"The hand of Maxtla, king at the royal city of Azcapozalco, is in it," answered the hunter.
At the mention of Maxtla's name, an expression of fierceness came over the hermit's face, but the taper's dim light did not reveal it. He inquired, in a voice in which there was evident displeasure, causing the hunter to give him a closer look:
"Where is the old destroyer of Tezcucan liberty, Tezozomoc, that Maxtla is king at Azcapozalco?"
"The old king is dead," replied Tezcot.
"The world is none the worse for that, I'm sure," returned the hermit, showing unmistakable enmity.
"It is surely not any better since Maxtla is king," answered the hunter, observing with interest the hermit's relaxing reserve.
"What would he—this Maxtla of Azcapozalco?" inquired Ix.
"It is known that he would destroy the Prince of Tezcuco, because of jealousy and hatred." A gleam of intelligence might have been seen to light up the anchorite's countenance on hearing these words, but it was not observed by the hunter, who continued: "The prince is a fugitive, hunted as a fox by the vassals of the king."
The hermit was silent and thoughtful for a moment, and then asked:
"Whence come the signs which speak to Tezcot of an approaching conflict?"