The servant busied himself about the table for a short time, and then took a position at a respectful distance, apparently waiting his master's return.
The minutes went by and the prince did not return. It suddenly dawned upon the mind of the officer that something was being done to thwart him—that he had been duped; and, quickly rising from his seat, he rushed into the saloon, followed by his men. No trace of the prince was found, and a general search of the palace was ordered. It proved fruitless, however, for the prince was not discovered, nor could anything be learned from the servants concerning him. He had vanished, to all appearances, in the clouds of incense which enveloped him as he passed from the banqueting hall to the saloon.
CHAPTER V.
Among the many ruins of ancient Mexico, and not the least of interest and wonder, were those of the great aqueducts, by means of which vast quantities of water were brought from distant points to supply an extensive system of irrigation, and, presumably, the palaces and villas of the rulers and their wealthy adherents.
The Tezcucan palace, while Hualcoyotl's father was yet a prosperous and independent sovereign, was furnished with all the advantages attainable, among which was an abundant supply of water, brought into the palace through a large conduit, or earthen pipe. After the subjugation of the Tezcucans, and death of their king, this pipe fell into disuse and ruin.
There was a passageway leading from within the palace to the abandoned conduit, which was concealed by a secret door. In this outlet Itzalmo saw a sure avenue of deliverance for his young master, and devised a plan of escape for him through its offered adaptedness, which was successfully carried out, as recorded at the close of the last chapter.
The plan of escape, so ingeniously devised by the old preceptor, was communicated to the prince, who, after being again urged to save himself for the sake of his people, concluded to acquiesce; for he began to realize that death certainly awaited him should he remain, while in the plan of Itzalmo there was hope, a strong argument against his false notion of defiance in the face of such overwhelming odds.
When Hualcoyotl left the banqueting hall and entered the saloon he was hurried to and through the secret door into the passageway and on to the conduit, where he found present security. It was not his purpose to reenter the palace, but to follow the pipe to a point where an opening had, in the gradual decay of the structure, appeared in its side, and from there make his escape. To do this was not an easy task, for he had a considerable distance to go, and the pipe being too small to permit him to rise, he was compelled to proceed in a crawling manner, and, frequently, to work his way through accumulated obstructions. After much vexatious toiling he found himself nearing the opening in the conduit, through which he expected to make his exit. A flood of light, most welcome, was streaming in through the breach, the sight of which freshened his flagging energies and relieved the arduousness of his advance. The goal was finally reached, and just beyond was freedom—to him, however, a freedom to be gained only under cover of darkness.
It had been arranged that the prince should remain in the conduit until night, when, at a preconcerted signal, to be given by his faithful and trusted attendant, Oza, to assure him that the way was clear, he should come forth and be conducted to a place of safety.