Akaza patted him affectionately on the shoulder, and occupied himself with the change of clothing he was improvising from his own garments. He substituted a purple robe for the water-soaked tunic, gave Yermah sandals, and finally wrapped his own cloak around him.
“Thy attendants, Yermah? It were not well to leave them to the mercies of air and water lashed to fury.”
“None saw me leave Iaqua. Neither man nor beast shall suffer because of my misdeeds,” said the Dorado. “It has taken all this time to find my way. The dying day left me resolved.”
“Thy spirit called to mine at that hour,” said Akaza with a glad smile. “I felt it then.”
“And wilt thou have me for thy companion for the night?” questioned Yermah, happy in the restoration of harmony between them.
“That were the wish nearest my heart,” said Akaza, pouring hot water into a silver cup, into which he had already measured some spirits of maguey, some spices, and a bit of lemon.
“Sweeten as thy appetite dictates,” he continued, as he handed the cup to his visitor. “And may the Father of All Mysteries attend thy ventures in the future.”
Yermah arranged his disordered locks, and then nestled down beside Akaza in a caressing boyish fashion. It was plain that he had something on his mind. Finally, with considerable hesitation, he broke the silence by asking:
“Will the unbridled license of my tongue to-day count against me with the Brotherhood?”
His open countenance clearly showed what he feared.