Still holding my hand, she led me down the rocky passage, while all about us the strange light glowed. Whence it came I could not discover. I could see no device, no contrivance, no source to account for the light. Even where it streamed across the chasm, where it formed that miraculous bridge of light, it seemed to issue from the solid rock. It was all incomprehensible, incredible. The only real, natural, understandable thing I had seen was Itza, and while she was real and natural and lovable enough, yet even some of her words were incomprehensible to me. That she had mistaken me for a god, for the descendant of the Plumed Serpent, was not surprising. She and her people, of course, knew of the ancient prophecy, they had--as she herself had said--been long awaiting the appearance of some messenger bearing the token, the symbol of the Book of Kukulcan, and when she had seen me, a white man and bearded, she had naturally thought me either the bearded god himself or one of his sons. But who was this high-priest Kinchi Haman whom she both revered and feared? Who was this Kinich Ahau, whom she was to wed at the next new cycle of Tonalmatl? Well, I’d soon know, and would have something to say about whom she was to wed. And if Itza’s people looked upon me as an incarnated god, as the son of Kukulcan, what I had to say would carry weight. Even a high-priest would hardly dare defy the son of the Plumed Serpent, the bearer of the Book of Kukulcan. And even if he did, I’d have Itza for myself despite him and his fellows. If it came to a matter of force, I was quite prepared to slay the priest with my own hands. So elated was I, so filled with my new found happiness, so overwhelmingly in love with Itza, that no thought of danger; no thought of failure entered my mind. I felt able to cope with anything, to overcome anything, to defy the world if necessary. Nothing mattered but Itza, and I drew her to me and kissed her head, her neck, her upturned lips as we hurried on. But even in my obsession I noted something of our surroundings. I saw that the tunnel through which we were passing had been cut by hand--tool marks were everywhere visible upon the walls and roof, and at frequent intervals the rock was covered with sculptured figures and glyphs. In places, too, it led downwards in series of steps, and descending one of these flights of stone stairs and turning sharply to the left, we came abruptly to the end of the passage with an arched opening framing a section of a gorgeous sunset, of golden and crimson clouds above a purple range of lofty mountains. * * * * *