The adoption of a name for herself, corresponding with her disguise, before reaching her destination, now became a necessary expedient, and Mitla's genius for that kind of invention was for the first time--and, we might add, the last--brought into operation. After calling up all the names within her recollection, and, inventing not a few, she finally settled upon Hualla--very appropriate and well suited, and under it found her way into the allied army. Fear of detection made the disguised maiden wary of getting into a too close proximity to those who knew her best. This led her to avoid the mountain guard and her Tezcucan friends, and to go in search of the gallant young leader of the Tlacopan army, for whom she had conceived quite a liking, from his genial and kindly disposition. After considerable trouble and worry she found the gracious Macua, and, on being admitted to his presence, told him that she wished to go with the army, and could think of no position which she could fill except that of messenger, in which capacity, she asked, would he kindly allow her to serve him. She made an attractive appearing youth, and readily found favor with the young chief, who immediately installed her a member of his military household. To become an attachee of Macua's official family was not to become a slave, by any means, and our mountain heroine found frequent means for gratifying her peculiar longings. To be where she could occasionally have a look at the man she so wildly loved, her idol, was the sole object of Mitla's self-imposed masquerading. The tzin's division of Tezcucans was soon located by her, and no move or change was made by it that she was not aware of. Whenever her duty brought her near to where the young cacique--a title the tzin had acquired by virtue of his position as a leader--was stationed, she made it a point to have a good look at him, on several of which occasions he saw her, but, thinking her only an inquisitive lad, paid little attention to her actions.