Montezuma clapped his hands, and drooped his head.
“Yet more,” said Tecetl, almost immediately; “another crowd comes on, a band reaching far down the street; they are naked, and come without order, bringing—”
“The tamanes,” said Mualox, without looking from her face.
“And now,” she said, “the city begins to stir. I look, and on the house-tops and temples hosts collect; from all the towers the smoke goes up in bluer columns: yet all is still. Those who carry the censers come near the gate below me; now they are within it; the plumed train follows them, and the square begins to fill. Back by the great door, on one of the animals, the god—”
“Quetzal’,” muttered Mualox.
“A company, glistening, surrounds him; his face seems whiter than before, his eyes darker; a shield is on his arm, white plumes toss above his head. The censer-bearers cross the square, and the air thickens with a sweet perfume. Now he speaks to them; his voice is harsh and high; they are frightened; some kneel, and begin to pray as to a god; others turn and start quickly for the gate.”
“Take heed, take heed, O king!” said Mualox, his eyes aflame.
And Montezuma answered, trembling with fear and rage, “Has Anahuac no gods to care for her children?”
“What can they against the Supreme Quetzal’? It is a trial of power. The end is at hand!”
Never man spoke more confidently than the paba.