I laughed at their serious looks and words, kissed away Itza’s doubts, and reassured Azcopil. “You are both right and wrong, my brother,” I told him. “As you well know, I am of another race than yours. Those of my race worship another God in other ways than yours. And the God of my people welcomes the prayers and the offerings of all, whether priests or not. Upon the temple of Kukulcan I gave forth the prayers that I and my people render to my God, and in the tongue we use. And Kinchi Haman bowed to me by the will of the God of my people, who is the greatest of all Gods.” Azcopil nodded. Then for a space he was silent, thinking deeply. Suddenly Itza lifted her head from where it nestled on my shoulder and smiled into my eyes. “Tell me, Itzimin, my beloved, of this God of your people,” she begged. “Truly He must be great and good and powerful above all others. Did not Kukulcan permit you to worship this God of yours upon his altar? Did not Kinchi Haman tremble before Him? And you, Itzimin, are the best and greatest of men, so your God must be the best and greatest of gods, and I desire to know Him and to worship Him.” “Yes, Itzimin, tell us of your God,” added the prince. I am no theologian, and I fear I made a mess of trying to explain the tenets of the Christian faith to Azcopil and Itza. To people accustomed for generations to an involved mythology with a multitude of gods, a simple religion with a single God is a most difficult matter to comprehend. Moreover, the Zutugil tongue was woefully lacking in words to express my meaning or to describe many things in my religion. But that they grasped the fundamental principles, I was sure, when the prince spoke again. “It seems, Itzimin,” he said, choosing his words and speaking slowly, “that your God is like our Hunabku, the Invisible and Supreme One. To him all other gods bow. He rules all earth, heaven, the air, yet never is he seen. And like your God, who sent His son to walk upon earth and teach the people, so our Hunabku sent his son Kukulcan to walk among the Kitche Maya and to teach our father’s fathers. So perchance, Itzimin, your God and the supreme god of my people may be the same, and I for one see little difference as to which one we worship, for both are the source of all things.” I nodded assent. I had no wish to try my hand at missionary work; to stir up religious questions was to stir up trouble, and trouble of any sort I desired above all else to avoid. CHAPTER XIII The Mystery of the Green Sphere THERE was one man in Mictolan who had not been fooled by my involuntary rôle as a priest of Kukulcan. Old Nohul Voh chuckled over it when I next saw him.