“Don’t know. Alayon died. No one ever knew what became of the sacred book. Afterwards came the insurrection of the Indians, and the old friends also died.” “Do you remember what the book said?” “Now, one of the things comes to my mind. It said that there was a very old house called the _Akab-sib_, and in that house a writing, which recited that _a day would come when the inhabitants of Saci would converse with those of Ho [Merida] by means of a cord, that would be stretched by people not belonging to the country_.” When I heard this, the idea occurred to me that the old fellow was quietly having his little bit of fun at my expense. In order to be sure of it I inquired:-- “What do you say, father? How can that be? Do you imagine how people forty leagues apart can converse by means of a cord?” But when my interlocutor answered that he could not either know or imagine how that could be done, and particularly when my friends assured me that Chablé had no idea of the electric telegraph, I then became convinced of his good faith, and began to ponder on the strange disclosure we had just listened to. The old man soon rose to take his departure, and I invited him to call again, when he had not been to church and consoled himself with his spiritual friend, in order that I might be able to take his portrait. He repeated his visit a few days later, as requested. I took his portrait, and asked him again about the monuments of Chichen. But, alas! that day his lips were sealed, or his memory failed, or his Indian secrecy had returned. He knew nothing of them; had never been there; did not remember what the old men said of the enchanted houses when he was young, except that the place had been enchanted for many, many years, and that it was not good to sleep near them, because the _Xlab-pak-yum_, the lord of the old walls, would be angry at the intrusion, and chastise the offender by disease and death within the year.