The canoes of the voyageurs—I use that term because it more nearly expresses the meaning of the word the Aztecs themselves were wont to apply to persons thus abroad—were, at the time, about the middle of the little sea. After the ’tzin’s reply, they were soon alongside, when lashings were applied, and together they swept on rapidly, for the slaves at the paddles vied in skill and discipline.
“Iztlil’, of Tezcuco!” said the ’tzin, lightly. “He is welcome; but had a messenger asked me where at this hour he would most likely be found, I should have bade him search the chinampas, especially those most notable for their perfume and music.”
The speech was courteous, yet the moment of reply was allowed to pass. The ’tzin waited until the delay excited his wonder.
“There is a rumor of a great battle with the Tlascalans,” he said again, this time with a direct question. “Has my friend heard of it?”
“The winds that carry rumors seldom come to me,” answered Iztlil’.
“Couriers from Tlascala pass directly through your capital—”
The Tezcucan laid his hand on the speaker’s shoulder.
“My capital!” he said. “Do you speak of the city of Tezcuco?”
The ’tzin dashed the hand away, and arose, saying, “Your meaning is dark in this dimness of stars.”
“Be seated,” said the other.