“So old Tepaja wanted you to be a merchant,” said the Chalcan, in his full, round voice, as, comfortably seated under the curtains of his portico, he smoked his pipe, and talked with our young friend, the Tihuancan.
“Yes. Now that he is old, he thinks war dangerous.”
“You mistake him, boy. He merely thinks with me, that there is something more real in wealth and many slaves. As he has grown older, he has grown wiser.”
“As you will. I could not be a merchant.”
“Whom did you think of serving?”
“The ’tzin Guatamo.”[23]
“I know him. He comes to my portico sometimes, but not to borrow money. You see, I frequently act as broker, and take deposits from the merchants and securities from the spendthrift nobles; he, however, has no vices. When not with the army, he passes the time in study; though they do say he goes a great deal to the palace to make love to the princess. And now that I reflect, I doubt if you can get place with him.”
“Why so?”
“Well, he keeps no idle train, and the time is very quiet. If he were going to the frontier it would be different.”
“Indeed!”