“Men must worship, O Tula, and there can be no worship without faith. So I had next to renew the sacred fire and restore the gods. The first was easy: I had only to start a flame from the embers of the sanctuaries; the fire that burned them was borrowed from that kept immemorially on the old altars. The next duty was harder. The images were not of themselves more estimable than other stones; neither were the jewels that adorned them more precious than others of the same kind: their sanctity was from faith alone. The art of arts is to evoke the faith of men: make me, O sweetheart, make me master of that art, and, as the least of possibilities, I will make gods of things least godly. In the places where they had fallen, at the foot of the temple, I set the images up, and gave each an altar, with censers, holy fire, and all the furniture of worship. By and by, they shall be raised again to the azoteas; and when we renew the empire, we will build for them sanctuaries richer even than those of Cholula. If the faith of our people demand more, then—”
He hesitated.
“Then, what?” she asked.
He shuddered, and said lower than ever, “I will unseal the caverns of Quetzal’, and,—more I cannot answer now.”
The influence of Mualox was upon him yet.
“And if that fail?” she persisted.
Not until the stars at the time overhead had passed and been succeeded by others as lustrous, did he answer,—
“And if that fail? Then we will build a temple,—one without images,—a temple to the One Supreme God. So, O Tula, shall the prophecy of the king, your father, be fulfilled in our day.”
And with that up sprang a breeze of summery warmth, lingering awhile to wanton with the tresses of the willow, and swing the flowery island half round the circle of its anchorage; and from the soothing hand on his forehead, or the reposeful motion of the chinampa, the languor of sleep stole upon his senses; yet recollection of the battle and its cares was hard to be put away:—
“I should have told you,” he said, in a vanishing voice, “that when the companies abandoned us, I went first to see our uncle, the lord Cuitlahua. The guards at the door refused me admittance; the king was sick, they said.”