“A chalchuite! What jeweller in the city could sell you one so rich?”
“Not one. I bought it of Cacama. It is a crown jewel of Tezcuco.”
“You were lucky, my lord. But, if you will allow me, what became of the priestess? Saw you ever such dancing?”
“You are late inquiring, Chalcan. The beggar was fast by starvation that night; but you were nearer death. The story was told the king,—ah! you turn pale. Well you may,—and he swore, by the fires of the temple, if the girl had been sold he would have flayed alive both buyer and seller. Hereafter we had both better look more closely to the law.”
“But she moved my pity as it was never moved before; moreover, she told me they had discharged her from the temple.”
“No matter; the peril is over, and our hearts are our own. Yesterday I saw her in the train of the princess Tula. The ’tzin cared for her. But speaking of the princess,—the banquet to-morrow night will be spicy.”
The Chalcan dropped the precious loop. Gossip that concerned the court was one of his special weaknesses.
“You know,” continued Maxtla, “that the ’tzin has always been a favorite of the king’s—”
“As he always deserved to be.”
“Not so fast, Chalcan! Keep your praise. You ought to know that nothing is so fickle as fortune; that what was most popular yesterday may be most unpopular to-day. Hear me out. You also know that Iztlil’, the Tezcucan, was down in the royal estimation quite as much as the ’tzin was up; on which account, more than anything else, he lost his father’s city.”