"I would not seem unkind or unappreciative toward the dear friend of my childhood, whom I esteem above all men, and look upon almost as one of my own blood. You are like a brother to me, noble Hualcoyotl, but not like a lover."

"You will yet learn to love me, Itlza. You shall remain in my palace, and I will teach you," he rejoined, persuasively.

"Is there not someone else, O prince, more worthy and lovable than I, who would be pleased to become your queen, whose love might be had for the asking?" she pleaded, paying no attention to his persuasive tones.

Hualcoyotl was inexorable. He had resolved on a purpose, and was not to be dissuaded from pursuing it to the end. He said decidedly:

"The King of Tezcuco may find others to love him, but not another to be his queen. You, O Itlza, my first and only love, shall fill that place. I am king—my word is law. I have said it. Be wise, O Itlza, in this matter, and study to become the chief lady of the nation." As he finished speaking he knelt on one knee, took her hand and pressed it to his forehead—a mode of affectionate salutation, the kiss being reserved for those who were endeared—after which action he turned away, leaving her to the terrible realization of the hopelessness of her love for Cacami, and the certainty of a compulsory marriage with him, which death alone could prevent.

She was now alone, in the saddest sense, with no eye to witness the anguish of soul with which she was stricken, and to which she now gave away. Throwing herself prostrate upon the ground she forgot all else but her crushed hopes, and moaned in the agony of despair. She did not realize the quick approach and presence of the one for the love of whom she was now caused to suffer. He stood over her for a moment, contemplating her agony, while on his face was unmistakable evidence of great distress of mind. Though strong in his manhood, he could not entirely restrain his feelings, and could not have been expected to while his breast was being torn by a tempest of conflicting emotions. He presently kneeled at her side, and called softly:

"Itlza!" At the sound of her name on her loved one's lips she arose, and, throwing herself into his arms, cried in accents of unutterable woe:

"Cacami! Cacami!"


The lovers had arranged for a meeting in the conservatory, and Itlza, happy in the anticipation of an hour of sweet converse with her beloved, had come to fulfill her tryst, and, as we have seen, was met by the prince. Just when the latter, with mind wholly absorbed in the object which had brought him to the conservatory, was becoming impatient and imperative in his language at the unexpected evidence of a disinclination on the part of the former to look with favor upon his proposal to honor her above all other women, and she, too much frightened to think of anything save the terrible fact that her anticipations of a happy future with him she loved were about to be shipwrecked—forever swept away—Cacami, unheard by them, came upon the ground in the joyful expectation of soon meeting the object of his love. On discovering that Hualcoyotl was there ahead of him, talking with Itlza, and learning the significance of his presence from the few words which reached him, he was overwhelmed with amazement at the disclosure. He could not in honor remain to hear another word, so, quickly turning on his heel, withdrew.