“I know not what words you spoke, Itzimin Chac,” he declared, “but that it was not the ritual of Kukulcan, I knew well. Neither did my lord carry out the ceremonies of the setting sun as provided by my religion. Mayhap no man or woman of Mictolan knows how it should be done. Of a surety, Kinchi Haman does not know all. It is many Katuns since a true priest of the Itzaes held sway at the temple of Mictolan, and still longer since one of the Tutul Xius prayed at the altar of Kukulcan. But I, Nohul Voh, have looked upon the ceremony of the setting sun in the holy city of the Plumed Serpents, in the temples of Chichen Itza, and I know the secret ritual as well as did Kachiquel Xius himself. But also I know my lord is not the son of Kukulcan and that the symbol of the Titul Xius upon his breast was placed there by my own hands. So between us two it will remain a secret, and it matters not, for it was foretold in the Book of the Future.” To relate all my conversations with the old sorcerer, to tell in detail all my moves, all my experiences, all my adventures and to describe all of my discoveries during the weeks that followed my triumph over Kinchi Haman, would be monotonous. Moreover, many were of little importance and finally, to tell the truth, I cannot for the life of me feel sure of the chronological order of the innumerable incidents nor the reasons and causes that led up to them. The old priest seemed to have been completely squelched. I saw little of him and he was most servile and conciliatory when we met. But there was a fly in my ointment nevertheless. Once having taken the part, there was no way of getting out of it, and each night and each morning I was obliged to ascend to the temple and go through the ceremonies before the image of my supposed ancestor. Naturally, the ceremonies I inaugurated were most revolutionary, but as I found I was compelled to do something that savored of religion, I decided to do my best to carry out--as far as my limited knowledge permitted--the ritual of the Christian Church.