Hualcoyotl, recovering from the astonishment which the sudden discovery of his friend caused him, exclaimed: "Euetzin, my brother! This is, indeed, a glad surprise. Rise, that I may greet you as an equal--not as a vassal." The tzin arose to his feet, and the prince embraced him affectionately. He then inquired: "Who are these that accompany you?" "Oza, salute your master," was the tzin's response. "Oza here, too!" exclaimed, again, the now delighted prince. "I see through it all, Oza; to you it is that I am indebted for this most happy moment. You have my blessing, and more--your freedom, from this hour!" The slave had prostrated himself before his master, who now bade him rise. "I would not be free, master, if it will take me from you," said the devoted vassal, in reply. "It shall not take you from me, Oza, except to permit you to march with the army of liberation. You shall be an honored soldier." The moment was a happy one for the ever faithful slave, and the change in his condition would only make him a more willing servitor. "Here, O Prince, is a friend whom you will be pleased to greet, I am sure; for in him you see Cacami, the hunter, who delivered you from the Tepanec soldiers on the highway," said Euetzin, turning to his friend, who stood waiting to be presented. Cacami saluted the prince, who, in return, gave him a cordial greeting, and said: "Yes, Euetzin, I am more than pleased to know and greet the valiant hunter Cacami; for it is a hope realized, an opportunity I have truly wished for. More than gratitude is due from us to him, and when we are in position to requite his service he will find us not unmindful of the fact." Passing over Cacami's reply, except to say that he deprecated an allusion to the occurrence, which he regarded as a very little thing for him to do, and, with the presentation of the party to the hermit, who found in the occasion another opportunity in which to be profoundly impressive, we leave the friends to engage in explanations and consultation, and return to Tezcot's. Mitla was not so bright as was her wont, all through the morning hours. She was inclined to avoid conversation, and sought, more than was her practice, to be alone. After the mid-day meal she took her archer's outfit and sauntered off along the plateau, around the mountain. She was heedless, alike of time and distance. Her bow was seldom brought into use. A parrot or pheasant seemed to have no attraction for her. In one or two instances, however, when the mark was so conspicuous that the attention of a less interested person would have been drawn to it, she let go an arrow with good effect, but showed no animation at the result; she was manifestly _distrait_.