CHAPTER II
WHOM THE GODS DESTROY THEY FIRST MAKE MAD
The morning after Hualpa’s return Xoli, the Chalcan, as was his wont, passed through his many rooms, making what may be called a domestic reconnoissance.
“What!” he cried, perplexed. “How is this? The house is empty! Where are all the lords?”
The slaves to whom he spoke shook their heads.
“Have there been none for breakfast?”
Again they shook their heads.
“Nor for pulque?”
“Not one this morning,” they replied.
“Not even for a draught of pulque! Wonderful!” cried the broker, bewildered and amazed. Then he hurried to his steward, soliloquizing as he went, “Not one for breakfast; not even a draught of pulque! Holy gods, to what is the generation coming?”