Summoning my bodyguard of picked warriors, who heretofore had been wholly ornamental, I joined Azcopil, who arrived with a crowd of his friends and retainers. Already the news of my loss had spread like wildfire through the city. Crowds thronged and milled about some shouting vengeance on those who were responsible; others awed, terrified, declaring Itza had been carried off by some spirit or devil; others declaring the Sun God had taken her for his bride; others consoling me, still others volunteering their services. Somehow the rumor had spread that Kinchi Haman was at the bottom of the trouble, and among the curses, prayers, shouts and disputes, I heard many of the throng crying for the blood of the priest, demanding that he be seized and tortured. Quarrels arose, the people split into factions--one for Kinchi Haman, the other for me--and in a moment the streets became a riot, a pandemonium. But we paid no heed to the excited, struggling, arguing mob. Let them settle it as they might, let them break one anothers’ heads, if they wanted to. Itza must be found, and at the head of our men, Azcopil and I hurried towards the Temple of Kinich Ahau. Into the great court we poured, thrusting aside the temple guards, disarming them, binding them. Ordering a party of our men to search every outbuilding, to prevent anyone from entering or leaving the place, we dashed up the short flight of steps to the great sculptured doorway. A stalwart guard barred our way only to fall, gasping, from a savage blow of Azcopil’s war club. A frightened dishevelled priest sprang forward and with upraised arms forbade us to enter. “Back!” he shouted, “Back, defilers of the Temple of the Lord of Day! What seek you here with noise and violence?” I laughed hoarsely, wildly. “I seek the misshapen, evil thing you call your priest!” I cried. “The Kinchi Haman, Poisoner of the Year. Aside, man, or your spirit joins that of your guard yonder! This day Kinich Ahau bows to the will of Kukulcan.” “Kinchi Haman is not within,” stammered the terrified priest. “Not since the ceremony of the Rising Sun has he been within the temple. Turn back, O, Itzimin Chac, and bring not the vengeance of the All Powerful upon you and yours!” “That for your god and his vengeance!” I cried, snapping my fingers in his face. “You lie! Kinchi Haman _is_ within.”