The boy went to his own canoe, and, returning, held up a shield of pearl and gold. “See! With a bow I beat our father and the lord Hualpa, and this was the prize.”
“That a shield!” Nenetzin said. “A toy,—a mere brooch to a Tlascalan, I have a tortoise-shell that will serve you better.”
The boy frowned, and a rejoinder was on his lips when Tula spoke.
“The flowers in your vases are very beautiful, lord Hualpa. What altar is to receive the tribute?”
Nenetzin’s badinage had charmed the ambassador into forgetfulness of his embassy; so he answered confusedly, “The noble Tula reminds me of my duty. Before now, standing upon the hills of Tihuanco, watching the morning brightening in the east, I have forgotten myself. I pray pardon—”
Tula glanced archly at Nenetzin. “The morning looks pleasant; doubtless, its worshipper will be forgiven.”
And then he knew the woman’s sharp eyes had seen into his inner heart, and that the audacious dream he there cherished was exposed; yet his confusion gave place to delight, for the discovery had been published with a smile. Thereupon, he set one of the vases at her feet, and touched the floor with his palm, and said,—
“I was charged by Guatamozin to salute you again, and say that these flowers would tell you all his hopes and wishes.”
As she raised the gift, her hand trembled; then he discovered how precious a simple Cholulan vase could become; and with that his real task was before him. Taking the other vase, he knelt before Nenetzin.
“I have but little skill in courtierly ways,” he said. “In flowers I see nothing but their beauty; and what I would have these say is, that if Nenetzin, the beautiful Nenetzin, will accept them, she will make me very happy.”