“Give me a moment’s audience.”
“Certainly. The laggard comes not; the rest of the day is yours.” And to Maxtla he said, “In the palace are the queens, and the princesses Tula and Nenetzin. Inform them that I am coming.”
When the chief was gone, the monarch turned to Cuitlahua, smiling: “Yes, the rest of the day is yours, and the night also; for I must wait for the merchant’s son; and our mother, were she here, would say it was good of you to share my waiting.”
The pleasantry and the tender allusion were hardly observed by the cacique. “I wished to call your attention to Iztlil’, the Tezcucan,” he said, gravely.
“Iztlil’? what of him now?”
“Trouble. What else can come of him? Last night at the house of Xoli, the Chalcan, he drank too much pulque, quarrelled with the good man’s guests, and abused everybody loyal,—abused you, my brother. I sent a servant to watch him. You must know—if not, you should—that all Tenochtitlan believes the Tezcucan to be in alliance with Malinche and his robbers.”
“Robbers!” said Montezuma, starting.
The cacique went on. “That he has corresponded with the Tlascalans is well understood. Only last night he spoke of a confederacy of tribes and cities to overturn the Empire.”
“Goes he so far?” exclaimed the king, now very attentive.
“He is a traitor!” replied Cuitlahua, emphatically. “So I sent a servant to follow him. From the Chalcan’s, he was seen go to the gates of the palace of Axaya’. Malinche received him. He is there now.”