Mitla answered by a shake of the head, at the same time giving him a look of trustful helplessness. The look spoke more than words could have expressed, and told how grateful she was for the deliverance his coming had brought her, from a fate too terrible for contemplation.
When Euetzin's support was no longer required, he conducted her to a place where she could be seated, and waited for her to speak. After a moment's pause she turned her eyes, beaming with gratitude, full upon him, and said:
"It is now Mitla's turn to be grateful. If I have done aught to place a debt upon the prince, or his friends, you have paid it a hundredfold. I shall never cease to regard you as my preserver from a fate against which death would be a welcome deliverance."
"Any true man, in my place, would have done the same for you," he answered. "I am entitled to no especial gratitude for doing my duty, I would assure you. Because I happened to be here at the right moment to rescue you from the hands of those villainous soldiers, the act should not make a hero of me."
He spoke jocularly, hoping to impart cheerfulness by a cheerful manner.
"Your words do not affect the sense of obligation which fills my heart, and that it is so I am glad, for I could not be generous were I ungrateful," she returned, still deeply affected.
"I shall certainly bear in mind, with no little satisfaction, Mitla, that I have earned a place in your remembrance. Let that suffice to reward me for the service done, and think no more about it," he replied, endeavoring to dispose of the matter by depreciation, in which he failed, for Mitla said:
"I am sure you are generous. Will you not, then, permit me to be so, too? Would you have me stifle the feeling which fills my heart—the feeling of immeasurable gratitude which goes out to you, my deliverer?"
Her eyes shone with intense brightness as she spoke, showing how deep were the fires of passion in her nature, which only required stirring to become irresistible. The passionate vehemence with which her words were uttered was affective. The tzin was human, though a young man with the profoundest sense of right; for the nonce, however, he allowed himself to yield to impulse, and replied to her impassioned appeal with the warmth, almost, of a lover:
"I am reproved. I would not that you stifle one generous impulse of your peerless woman's heart. I shall not soon forget the glowful expression which but now lighted up your beautiful face—so earnestly fixed in kindness upon me. The recollection of it will be an ever-present reminder of the noble girl I rescued from peril, and whose friendship I shall always prize."