CHAPTER III.
THE PORTRAIT.
Next day, after the removal of the noon comfitures, and when theprincess Tula had gone to the hammock for the usual _siesta_, Nenetzinrushed into her apartment unusually excited.
"O, I have something so strange to tell you,--something so strange!" shecried, throwing herself upon the hammock.
Her face was bright and very beautiful. Tula looked at her a moment,then put her lips lovingly to the smooth forehead.
"By the Sun! as our royal father sometimes swears, my sister seems inearnest."
"Indeed I am; and you will go with me, will you not?"
"Ah! you want to take me to the garden to see the dead tiger, or,perhaps, the warrior who slew it, or--now I have it--you have seenanother minstrel."
Tula expected the girl to laugh, but was surprised to see her eyes fillwith tears. She changed her manner instantly, and bade the slave who hadbeen sitting by the hammock fanning her, to retire. Then she said,--
"You jest so much, Nenetzin, that I do not know when you are serious. Ilove you: now tell me what has happened."
The answer was given in a low voice.
"You will think me foolish, and so I am, but I cannot help it. Do yourecollect the dream I told you the night on the _chinampa_?"
"The night Yeteve came to us? I recollect."
"You know I saw a man come and sit down in our father's palace,--astranger with blue eyes and fair face, and hair and beard like the silkof the ripening maize. I told you I loved him, and would have none buthim; and you laughed at me, and said he was the god Quetzal'. O Tula,the dream has come back to me many times since; so often that it seems,when I am awake, to have been a reality. I am childish, you think, andvery weak; you may even pity me; but I have grown to look upon theblue-eyed as something lovable and great, and thought of him is a partof my mind; so much so that it is useless for me to say he is not, orthat I am loving a shadow. And now, O dear Tula, now comes the strangepart of my story. Yesterday, you know, a courier from Cempoalla broughtour father some pictures of the strangers lately landed from the sea.This morning I heard there were portraits among them, and could notresist a curiosity to see them; so I went, and almost the first one Icame to,--do not laugh,--almost the first one I came to was the pictureof him who comes to me so often in my dreams. I looked and trembled.There indeed he was; there were the blue eyes, the yellow hair, thewhite face, even the dress, shining as silver, and the plumed crest. Idid not stay to look at anything else, but hurried here, scarcelyknowing whether to be glad or afraid. I thought if you went with me Iwould not be afraid. Go you must; we will look at the portraittogether." And she hid her face, sobbing like a child.
"It is too wonderful for belief. I will go," said Tula.
She arose, and the slave brought and threw over her shoulders the longwhite scarf so invariably a part of an Aztec woman's costume. Then thesisters took their way to the chamber where the pictures were kept,--thesame into which Hualpa had been led the night before. The king waselsewhere giving audience, and his clerks and attendants were with him.So the two were allowed to indulge their curiosity undisturbed.
Nenetzin went to a pile of manuscripts lying on the floor. The eldersister was startled by the first picture exposed; for she recognized thehandiwork, long since familiar to her, of the 'tzin. Nor was she lesssurprised by the subject, which was a horse, apparently a noblerinstrument for a god's revenge than man himself.
Next she saw pictured a horse, its rider mounted, and in Christianarmor, and bearing shield, lance, and sword. Then came a cannon, thegunner by the carriage, his match lighted, while a volume of flame andsmoke was bursting from the throat of the piece. A portrait followed;she lifted it up, and trembled to see the hero of Nenetzin's dream!
"Did I not tell you so, O Tula?" said the girl, in a whisper.
"The face is pleasant and noble," the other answered, thoughtfully; "butI am afraid. There is evil in the smile, evil in the blue eyes."
The rest of the manuscripts they left untouched. The one absorbed them;but with what different feelings! Nenetzin was a-flutter with pleasure,restrained by awe. Impressed by the singularity of the vision, as thusrealized, a passionate wish to see the man or god, whichever he was, andhear his voice, may be called her nearest semblance to reflection. Likea lover in the presence of the beloved, she was glad and contented, andasked nothing of the future. But with Tula, older and wiser, it wasdifferent. She was conscious of the novelty of the incident; at the sametime a presentiment, a gloomy foreboding, filled her soul. In slumber wesometimes see spectres, and they sit by us and smile; yet we shrink, andcannot keep down anticipations of ill. So Tula was affected by what shebeheld.
She laid the portrait softly down, and turned to Nenetzin, who had nowno need to deprecate her laugh.
"The ways of the gods are most strange. Something tells me this is theirwork. I am afraid; let us go."
And they retired, and the rest of the day, swinging in the hammock, theytalked of the dream and the portrait, and wondered what would come ofthem.