The company hushed their very breathing.
“All of them?” asked the ’tzin.
“All but the dead.”
Then on the ’tzin’s lip a smile, in his eyes a flash as of flame.
“Hear you, friends?” he said. “The time of vengeance has come. You know your places and duty. Go, each one. May the gods go with you!”
In a moment he and Hualpa were alone. The latter bent his head, and crossing his hands upon his breast said,—
“When the burthen of my griefs has been greatest, and I cried out continually, O ’tzin, you have held me back, promising that my time would come. I doubt not your better judgment, but—but I have no more patience. My enemy is abroad, and she, whom I cannot forget, goes with him. Is not the time come?”
Guatamozin laid his hand on Hualpa’s:—
“Be glad, O comrade! The time has come; and as you have prepared for it like a warrior, go now, and get the revenge so long delayed. I give you more than permission,—I give you my prayers. Where are the people who are to go with you?”
“In the canoes, waiting.”