“You asked, O, priest, what proof you had that I was the bearer of the symbol,” I said. “Is not my presence here enough? Who, but the bearer of the Book of Kukulcan, could pass the Valley of Death, the Tunnel of the Serpents, the Pool of the Alligators, the Eight Deserts, the Whirlwind, the Fiend Neztpehua, the Demon Ixputeque, the Blazing Mountains, the Realm of Hot Ashes, the Cave of the Bats and the Bridge of Light? But that none may doubt, here O, priest, is further proof.” As I spoke, I handed him the copy of the codex. Every neck craned forward, every breath was held as the priest studied the document. Dropping to his knees, he knocked his forehead in the dust. “O, great and mighty son of Kukulcan!” he cried, as he again arose. “Son of the mighty Gucumatz, Lord of the Thunder and the Heavens, we do you homage. At thy feet we prostrate ourselves and our gods bow before you. Thy will is law and thy breath our life. Great is our rejoicing that thou hast come unto us of Mictolan at last. Mighty will be our praise to Kinich Ahau, Lord of the Sun, for thy coming, and great will be the sacrifices on our altars. One hundred maidens shall be wed to Kinich Ahau on the moon of the Tonalmatl, and----” “Stop!” I ordered, interrupting him. “There will be no sacrifices. Know ye not that Kukulcan in the long ago ordered that the people of Xibalba, the Kingdom of the Great Snake, were to make no sacrifices of their fellow men? Know ye not that it was disobedience of this order that caused Kukulcan to leave you, to hide his face for many Baktuns; that in punishment, the people were destroyed and only those of the City of Mictolan were saved? And yet you, O, Kinchi Haman, would disobey that order, and that in the presence of the son of Kukulcan! Have a care that the vengeance of the Lord of Thunder falls not upon thy head, O, priest.” He glowered. I saw that in him I had an implacable enemy. But he was too fearful of my pistol, too fearful of my presence openly to protest, too fearful of popular opinion. Though he cursed me inwardly, for he was a cruel and bloodthirsty old rascal, yet his words were suave and humble enough. “It shall be as my lord wishes,” he declared. “He is the son of Kukulcan; he is our master and the gods bow to his will. But my Lord tires, he has come far. His place is awaiting him as it has been awaiting him for many Katuns in the past. Come, my Lord, to thy temple that thou mayest rest.” Turning, he beckoned to his litter bearers who came forward with his gorgeous, golden, gem-encrusted palanquin, and with it another even more wonderful which had been brought for my own use. With a quick motion I lifted Itza, seated her in the glorious vehicle, and took my place by her side. Never have I seen a more hideous, a more intense expression of hatred and anger than that which, for a brief instant, showed upon the death’s head features of the high priest as he saw the girl beside me in the litter.