"I suppose nothing my son. The Wacondah holds in his right hand the hearts of the Chiefs. He can alone dispose them in your favour."
"My father is right. I will go immediately to the Council. It must be assembled at this moment."
"In truth," the Amantzin answered, "the first hachesto of the powerful Sachems came to summon me a few moments before I had the pleasure of seeing my son."
"Then my father is proceeding to the Council?"
"I will accompany my son, if he consents."
"It will be an honour for me. I can, I trust, count on the support of my father?"
"When has that support failed Addick?"
"Never. Still, today, above all, I should like to be certain that my father will grant it to me."
"My son knows that I love him. I will act as my duty ordains," the Priest replied, evasively. Addick, to his great regret, was forced to put up with this ambiguous answer.
The two men then went out, and crossed the square, to enter the palace of the Sachems, where the Council assembled. A crowd of Indians, attracted by curiosity, thronged this usually deserted spot, and greeted with shouts the passage of renowned sachems. When the High Priest appeared, accompanied by the young Chief, the Indians fell back before them with a respect mingled with fear, and bowed silently to them. The Amantzin was more feared than loved by the people, as generally happens with all men who hold great power. Chiuchcoatl did not seem to notice the emotion his presence produced, and the hurried whispers that were audible on his passing. With eyes sunk, and modest even humble step, he entered the palace at the heels of the young Chief, whose assured countenance and haughty glance formed a striking contrast with the demeanour his comrade affected.