Notwithstanding his habitual serenity, Ix gave evidence in his mien of both interest and sympathy as the account of the prince's distressed condition, when rescued, was told to him by the hunter. He said nothing, however, until the latter was through.
"I know not of what blood you are, O Tezcot, nor do I ask to know; but, from the words you have often spoken in my presence, to which I have hearkened with pleasure, together with the deep concern you now manifest for the welfare of the Prince of Tezcuco, I am assured that you are kindly disposed toward his people. Although Ix is without a country, still he has his preferences. Your sympathy for the young prince finds an echo in my lonely heart. Fetch him hither, good friend, and let him abide with me, for mine is a dreary cell to which his presence will bring a welcome relief." Such was Ix's gratifying response to Tezcot's plea for Hualcoyotl.
Expressing his gratification in a very hearty manner for the hermit's ready consent to receive the prince as a companion, and promising to see him again in the evening, accompanied by the latter, the hunter took his departure.
After leaving the cavern, Tezcot went to talk with a few of the leading mountaineers about the prince; and, especially, with reference to putting the hermitage under a close surveillance. The cavern would afford a comparatively safe refuge as it was, but to make it so beyond a doubt was an important part of the hunter's plan. To do this would require the cooperation of a number of his friends. He found the mountaineers whom he went to see cheerfully acquiescent, and ready to assist in any way they could.
In order that no delay might ensue in arranging for Hualcoyotl's security it was decided that a council of friendly hunters should be held at one of their homes, conveniently located, where explanations could be made and an organization effected to meet the exigency. Runners were dispatched accordingly, to notify those whose presence at the council was particularly desired. After matters were shaped agreeably to the hunter's ideas, he turned his footsteps homeward, where his arrival has already been noted.
Everything was working well for securing the safety of the royal fugitive, and greatly to the satisfaction of his deeply interested friend, who felt in his big heart a profound sense of self-approval for what he was doing for suffering Tezcuco, by giving aid to her persecuted prince.
Night came on, and the mountaineer's home was enveloped in deep darkness. The hour was at hand when Hualcoyotl was to be conducted thence to the hermit's cave. In taking leave of the hunter's family he had words of kindness for all, especially for Mitla, whom he looked upon as a deliverer, and toward whom he felt a profound sense of gratitude. He could not forget that her quick thought and ready hand had saved him from capture and a subsequent cruel death at the hands of his enemy, and placed him in the way of a final escape, as he believed, from his pursuers. Whatever that was worth to him he owed to her.
To Oxie he said, holding up the little bouquet of flowers she had given him a few hours before:
"I bear away with me this token of your kindness, Oxie. It will soon fade and pass from my keeping; not so a recollection of the giver. That," turning to Zoei, "with the remembrance of the peaceful hours I have enjoyed beneath your hospitable roof, will pass from me only with my life. Good-by." The next moment he was gone, disappearing with his conductor in the deep shadows of the night.