By Right of Conquest; Or, With Cortez in Mexico

by G. A. Henty

  Chapter 21: A Victim For The Gods.

  The street which the Spaniards entered, after leaving the causeway,intersected the city from north to south. It was broad andperfectly straight and, from the roofs of the houses which linedit, a storm of missiles was poured on the Spaniards, as theyadvanced. Cortez set the allies to work to level the houses, asfast as the Spaniards won their way along the street. This theydid, until they reached the first canal. The bridge here had beenbroken down, and after the Indians had crossed, the temporaryplanks were pulled after them, and they joined their countrymenbehind a solid rampart of stone, erected on the other side of thecanal.

  It was not until after two hours' hard fighting, and the use ofartillery, that this obstacle was cleared away; and the Spaniards,wading across the canal, pressed forward without further resistance,until they reached the great square, on one side of which stood thepalace they had so long occupied. The Aztecs--disheartened at themanner in which all the defenses on which they relied had beencaptured by the Spaniards, and by their presence in the heart ofthe city--for some time desisted from their efforts; but they wereroused to fury, as a body of Spaniards rushed up the winding terracesto the summit of the great temple, and hurled the priests from its summit.

  Then, with a yell of fury, they threw themselves upon theirenemies. Their headlong rush swept the Spaniards back into thesquare, when they were attacked by bodies of natives, pouring downevery street. For once the Spaniards lost their presence of mind,fell into disorder, and were swept before the torrent, down thestreet which they had just traversed.

  In vain Cortez attempted to stem the stream. The panic spread tothe allies, and the whole mass were flying before the natives; whena body of cavalry came up and plunged into the crowd. The nativeswere shaken by the appearance of the enemies they feared so much;and Cortez, taking advantage of the confusion, rallied hisfollowers, and again drove the Aztecs back into the square.

  Night was now at hand and, dragging off the cannon which had beenabandoned in their flight, the force marched off in good order,though hotly pressed by the natives, and retired to Xoloc. Alvaradoand Sandoval also succeeded in crossing their respective causeways,but neither of them could penetrate into the city.

  The attack had failed, but it had strengthened the position of theSpaniards; for seeing the speedy manner in which they had overcomeall the defenses erected by the Mexicans, many of the cities whichhad hitherto stood aloof now sent in their submission, and suppliedlevies to assist them in their work; while Ixtlilxochitl, who hadnow become Lord of Tezcuco, and was a strong adherent of theSpaniards, brought up a force of fifty thousand Tezcucans, who weredivided among the three armies.

  Another simultaneous attack was now made, the advance along thecauseway being, as before, covered by the ships; but the enemyfought stoutly, and some hours elapsed before the Spaniards againentered the city. The advance was now more easy than on theprevious occasion, owing to the destruction of the buildingsbordering the streets. The natives, however, still fought with thegreatest obstinacy; but the great square was at last reached.

  Thinking to discourage the natives, by the destruction of some ofthe principal edifices, Cortez ordered the palace which had servedas the former barracks to be set on fire, as also the house ofbirds adjoining Montezuma's palace, and those were soon a mass offlames. The Aztecs, however, were infuriated rather thanintimidated; and the fight raged with greater fury than ever.Having accomplished his object, Cortez again gave the order to fallback and, covered by the cavalry, retired down the street; sodesperately assailed, by the natives, that but few men reached thefort unwounded.

  Day after day the same tactics were repeated, the Mexicans everynight repairing the breaches cleared out every day by the Spanishallies. Cortez found it impossible to guard the causeway andprevent this, the soldiers being already overcome by the fatigue oftheir daily encounters. Alvarado's division, however, held at nightthe ground they won in the daytime; but the troops suffereddreadfully from the incessant toil, and from the rain, which poureddown in torrents. The soldiers of Cortez fared little better, forthe buildings in the fort of Xoloc afforded shelter but to few; andthe rest had to sleep on the causeway in its rear, exposed to allthe tempestuous weather.

  Frequently, too, they were called up to battle; for the Aztecemperor, contrary to the usual practice of his countrymen,frequently attacked by night; often making simultaneous attacks onthe three divisions on the causeways, while at the same momenttroops from the neighboring towns attacked their camps in the rear.He did not content himself with open attacks, but resorted tostratagem. On one occasion he had a large number of canoes inambuscade, among some tall reeds bordering the lake. Several largeboats then rowed near the Spanish vessels. Believing that they werefilled with provisions intended for the city, two of the smallervessels pursued them. The Aztec boats made for the reeds, theSpaniards followed, and presently struck upon submerged timbers theIndians had driven in. They were instantly attacked by the wholefleet of canoes, most of the men were wounded, and several,including the two captains, slain, and one of the Spanish craftcaptured.

  It was now three months since the siege had begun, and the attitudeof the Mexicans was as bold and defiant as ever. Several attemptswhich Cortez had made to open negotiations with the young emperorhad been received with scorn. It was certain that, sooner or later,famine would do its work; for the approaches to the city were allin the hands of the Spaniards, and as the towns of the lake wereeither friendly or overawed by the great army of their allies, eventhe canoes, which at first made their way in at night withprovisions, had ceased to steal across in the darkness. The greatnative levies were of little use to the Spaniards in the absolutefighting, but they did good service by overawing the towns, makingexpeditions against the tribes that had not yet consented to throwin their lot with the invaders, and by sweeping in provisions froma wide extent of country.

  But to wait until famine did its work little suited the spirit ofthe Spaniards. The process would assuredly be a long one, for menwho fought so stoutly would resist starvation with equal tenacity;besides, the duration of the siege was already beginning to excitediscontent among the allies, whose wars were generally of veryshort duration. The Spaniards, too, were suffering from severeillness brought on by fatigue, exposure, and hardship.

  It was now determined to make a grand effort to obtain possessionof the great market of Tlatelolco, which lay on the northwesternpart of the city. Its possession would enable the force of Cortezto join hands with those of Alvarado and Sandoval; and the spaciousmarket itself, with its halls and porticoes, would furnishaccommodation for the army; and enable them to attack the city atclose quarters, instead of having to fight their way, every day,along the causeway.

  Sandoval was to join Alvarado, sending seventy picked troops tosupport Cortez. Advancing along the causeway, and supported notonly by the ships, but by a countless host of canoes filled withthe allies of the lake cities, who penetrated the canals, andcaused confusion in the rear of the Aztecs, the division of Cortezcleared the suburbs of their opponents, and then advanced towardsthe square of Tlatelolco by three great streets.

  Alderete commanded the force that advanced by the main centralavenue. This was a raised causeway, with canals running on eitherside of the road. Tapia and a brother of Alvarado commanded one ofthe other columns, while Cortez led the third. A small body ofcavalry, with three guns, remained in reserve in the great streetleading to the causeway; and here the column were to rally, in caseof disaster.

  The three columns advanced simultaneously. The Spanish pressed theAztecs back before them. Their allies filled up the canals as theytook them, one by one. The Tlascalans stormed the houses, andattacked the enemy on their roofs; while the canoes engaged thoseof the Aztecs, and so prevented them from interfering with the menoccupied in filling up the breaches. The parallel streets were nearenough to each other for the Spaniards to hear the shouts of theircompanions in the other columns, and to know that all were gainingground steadily.
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  The enemy in the streets fought with less obstinacy than usual; andCortez, with his usual keen-sightedness, at once apprehended thatthe feebleness of the resistance indicated some device, and thatthe Aztecs were allowing them to advance, only to lead them into atrap.

  He had received a message from Alderete saying that he was gettingon fast, and that he was but a short distance from the greatsquare. Fearing that this officer, eager to be the first to gainthe marketplace, was not taking proper precautions to secure hisretreat; Cortez, with a small body of troops, retraced his steps,and turned up the street by which Alderete's column had advanced.He had gone but a short distance, when he saw that his stringentorders had been neglected; for he came upon an opening some thirtyfeet wide, full of water at least twelve feet deep. A slightattempt, only, had been made to stop the gap; and stones andtimber, lying by the side, showed that it had been abandoned assoon as commenced.

  The general saw, too, that the road had been narrowed as itapproached this point, and that the work had evidently beenrecently done. Much alarmed at the consequence of this neglect, heat once set his men to fill up the breach; but they had scarcelybegun the operation when a terrific yell arose, drowning themingled clamor of the distant conflict.

  Alderete had, as Cortez supposed, pressed on the retreating Aztecswith too great eagerness. He had carried the barricades whichdefended the breach, and had given orders that the chasm should befilled up. But in their eagerness to be first in the square, theSpaniards had pressed on, none caring to stop to see that theallies carried out the order. So, taking position after position,they pressed on until they were close to the square.

  Suddenly the horn of Guatimozin, the emperor, sent forth a piercingnote from the summit of a temple. As if by magic, the retreatingAztecs turned and fell on their pursuers; while swarms of warriorsfrom the adjoining streets, lanes, and corners attacked theadvancing column.

  Taken completely by surprise, bewildered by the suddenness and furyof the onslaught, appalled by the terrific war yells, smitten downby the rain of missiles from the Aztecs, the Spaniards fell intoconfusion, and were swept down the street like foam on the crest ofa wave. In vain their leaders attempted to rally them. Their voiceswere drowned in the din, and their followers, panic stricken, nowthought only of preserving their lives.

  On they came, until they reached the edge of the cut. Here someplunged in, others were pushed in by the pressure from behind.Those who could swim were pulled down by their struggling comrades.Some got across and tried to climb the slippery side of the dike,but fell back and were seized by the Aztecs; whose canoes nowdashed up, and added to the confusion by hurling a storm ofmissiles into the crowd.

  Cortez, with his little party, kept his station on the other sideof the breach. They were already surrounded by Aztecs, who hadlanded on the causeway behind them; but held their grounddesperately, and endeavored, as far as possible, to assist theircomrades to climb out of the water. Cortez was speedily recognized,and storms of missiles were poured upon him, but these glancedharmlessly from his helmet and armor. Six of the Aztecs threwthemselves upon him together, and made a desperate effort to draghim into their boat. In the struggle he received a severe wound inthe leg, and fell.

  Olid, one of his followers, sprang to his rescue, severed the armof one of the natives, and ran another through the body; and beingjoined by a comrade named Lerma, and by a Tlascalan chief, stoodover the body of Cortez and drove off his foes, dispatching threemore of his assailants; but Olid fell, mortally wounded, by theside of his leader.

  Quinones, the captain of the guard, with several of his men nowfought his way up, lifted Cortez from the water, and laid him onthe road. One of his pages brought up his horse, but fell, woundedin the throat by a javelin. Guzman, the chamberlain, then seizedthe bridle, and held it while Cortez was helped into the saddle;but was himself seized by the Aztecs, and carried off in a canoe.

  Cortez, wounded as he was, would still have fought on; butQuinones, taking his horse by the bridle, turned it to the rear,exclaiming that his leader's life was "too important to the army tobe thrown away there!"

  The mass of fugitives poured along the causeway. The road was soft,and was so cut up that it was knee deep in mud; and in some placesthe water of the canals beside it met across it. Those on theflanks were often forced, by the pressure, down the slippery sides;and were instantly captured and carried off by the canoes of theenemy. Cortez's standard bearer was among those who fell in thecanal, but he succeeded in recovering his footing, and saved thestandard.

  At last the fugitives reached the spot where the cannon and cavalryhad been placed in reserve. Here Cortez rallied them, and chargedthe Aztecs with the little body of horse, while the artilleryopened a hot fire upon them. He then sent orders to the other twocolumns to fall back and, when these had rejoined him, the divisionretired, Cortez covering the movement with the cavalry.

  As soon as they were freed from the city, Tapia was sent round onhorseback to acquaint the other commanders of the failure. They hadadvanced at the same time as Cortez, and had on their side nearlygained the square; when they, too, were startled by the blast ofGuatimozin's horn, and by the terrible yell that followed it. Thenthey heard the sound of battle, which had before been clearlyaudible, roll away in the distance; and knew that the division ofCortez had been driven back.

  In a short time the attack upon themselves increased in fury, asthe troops who had been engaged with Cortez returned and joined inthe attack upon them. Two or three bloody heads were thrown amongthem, with shouts of "Malinzin!"

  Although Sandoval and Alvarado did not credit the death of theircommander, they felt that it was useless to persevere, and indeedwere unable to withstand the furious assaults of the Aztecs. Withgreat difficulty they drew off their troops to the entrenchment onthe causeway, and here the guns of the ships, sweeping the road,drove back their assailants. The greatest anxiety prevailed as tothe fate of Cortez, until Tapia arrived, bleeding from severalwounds, which he had received from parties of men whom Guatimozinhad stationed to interrupt the communication between the two camps.

  Sandoval at once rode round. He, too, was attacked on the road; buthis armor, and that of his horse protected him from the missilesshowered upon them. On arriving at the camp, he found the troopsmuch dispirited. Numbers had been killed and wounded, and no lessthan sixty-two Spaniards, with a multitude of allies, had falleninto the hands of the enemy. Indeed, the column around Alderete hadbeen almost entirely destroyed, and two guns and seven horses hadbeen lost.

  Cortez explained to his follower the cause of the disaster, andtold Sandoval that, as he should be unable to take the field for afew days, he must take his place, and watch over the safety of thecamps.

  Roger Hawkshaw had borne his full share in the desperate conflictsthat had taken place. In the previous combats he had fought only topreserve his own life, but now he was eager for the fray. Hisfriend Cuitcatl and his promised bride were prisoners in Mexico,and he fought now to deliver them. It was nearly a year from thetime when he had first retreated along the fatal causeway; and inthat time his frame had broadened out, and his strength increased;and so terrible were the blows he dealt that Cortez, himself, hadseveral times spoken to him in terms of approval of his valor, andhad appointed him to be one of his own bodyguard. He had stoodbeside him at the edge of the breach, and had done good servicethere.

  "You fight like a paladin," Cortez said, as Roger cut down threenatives who had rushed upon him; "but see, Sancho, put up yoursword for a minute, and take up that pike. If you hand the end tothose poor fellows in the water, your strength will be sufficientto haul them up."

  Roger at once set to, at the work of saving life, and dragged morethan a score of men who would otherwise have been drowned. He heardthe cry which was raised, when Cortez was attacked; and throwingdown his pike and drawing his sword, turned to rush to hisassistance; but at this moment two Mexicans threw themselves uponhim, his foot slipped in the mud, and in another moment he and histwo assailant
s were rolling down the deep bank into the water.

  With a mighty effort, he freed himself from their grasp and,gaining the bank, tried to climb up; but a canoe dashed upalongside, a dozen Mexicans threw themselves upon him, and with atriumphant shout drew him into the boat, which at once paddled offfrom the scene of conflict.

  Roger, as he lay at the bottom of the canoe, felt that all hope wasover. He knew that the Aztecs never spared a captive taken in war,and that all who fell into their hands were destined for the altarsof their gods. He regretted deeply that he had not fallen inbattle; but determined that, at any rate, he would not die tamely;and resolved that, rather than be slaughtered in cold blood on thealtar, when the time came, he would offer so desperate a resistancethat they would be forced to kill him.

  Passing along several canals, the canoe stopped at some stairs.Roger was taken out, and led through a shouting crowd to a greattemple, where he was thrust into a prison room, already occupied byseveral Spaniards. Their numbers increased, until they amounted totwenty.

  Few words were spoken among the prisoners. Their arms were free,but their legs firmly secured with ropes; and ten armed Aztecs keptwatch over them, to see that they made no attempt to unfasten theirbonds.

  One of the prisoners Roger saw, to his regret, was his friend Juan.He was severely wounded in several places; as indeed was Rogerhimself, although in the excitement of the battle he had scarcenoticed it.

  "Well, lad!" the old soldier said. "This is a bad ending of ourgold seeking. Who would have thought that it was to be one's lot,first to be murdered on the altars of a hideous god, and then tofurnish a meal to a race of savages?"

  "The furnishing the meal does not trouble me," Roger replied."Whether one is drowned and eaten by fishes, or killed and eaten byAztecs, makes, as far as I can see, but little difference to one.However, I don't quite make up my mind to the worst yet, Juan. Theymust have captured a great number of us, for I saw many carried offwho are not here; besides a multitude of Tlascalans and our otherallies. I do not suppose they will sacrifice us all at once, butare likely to take so many a day. In that case, we may have theluck to be among the last; and before our turn comes, the Spaniardsmay be masters of the town."

  Juan shook his head.

  "It is just as well to hope, lad; but I think the chances are nextto nothing. Even if Cortez himself gets out safe, and the troopsdraw off without much further loss, it will be some days beforethey will attack again, after such a maiming as we got, this time.Even then their chances of success will be no better than they weretoday; worse, in fact, for we have lost something like a sixth ofour force, beside what may have fallen in the attack from the otherside; put it at a quarter, altogether. Our natives will bedispirited by their defeat today, and the Aztecs will have gainedin confidence.

  "By Saint James, but those fellows fight well! Who would havethought, when we saw them bowing and smiling when we first arrivedin the city, and submitting so meekly to everything, that theycould fight like fiends? Never did I see men so reckless of life.

  "Pedro has fallen. I loved him as a son. But far better dead thanhere."

  "I am sorry, indeed, to hear that he has fallen, Juan. I fearedthat he had, for he would not have let you be captured, had he beenalive.

  "I don't give up all hope for ourselves. The Mexicans fight likeheroes, but in the end we must win, in spite of their valor. Evenif we do not take the town by storm, which I don't think we evershould do, if it were provisioned, we shall take it by hunger. Theymust be well-nigh starving now. In another month there will not bea soul alive in the city.

  "You do not think there is any chance of our making our escape?"

  "Not unless wings could sprout out from our shoulders," Juan said,"and we could fly through the air. You may be sure these fellowswill keep too sharp a lookout upon us to give us the shadow of achance; besides, if we were to get out, we could not go on footwithout being detected.

  "You might manage, lad, with a dark night to hide your color, andwith the aid of a native dress, for you can speak their tongue; butas for me, the idea is hopeless, and not to be thought of. No, no,lad, I do not delude myself. My time has come; and I shall bear it,I hope, like a man, and a Christian."

  From time to time, Aztecs came in to see that the prisoners weresafe. From their conversation with the guards, Roger gathered thatthe attack had everywhere failed, and that the Spaniards hadretired to their camps.

  Late in the afternoon some priests entered. Two of the prisonerswere selected by them, their bonds cut, and they were taken away.Soon afterwards, the sound of the great war drum reverberatedthrough the city.

  The Spaniards in their camps started to arms, on hearing the sound;but they were not long in understanding its meaning, for from theircamps they beheld a great procession winding up the principalpyramid. Alvarado's camp, which was the nearest to the city, was ashort mile away from the temple; and in the clear evening air thetroops could see that there were five or six white figures amongthem.

  As usual, the victims were decorated with plumes of feathers, to dohonor to their own sacrifice. They were driven along with blowsand, when they reached the summit of the temple, were seized andthrown, one by one, upon their backs upon the sacrificial stone,which was convex, so as to give a curve to their bodies. Theprincipal priest then, with a sharp stone knife, cut through theskin and flesh between two of the ribs and, plunging his hand intothe orifice, dragged out the heart, which he presented to thefigure of the god.

  The sight, distant as it was, excited the Spaniards to the verge ofmadness; and if it had not been for their officers, they would haveseized their weapons and rushed forward again to the attack, toavenge the murder of their comrades.

  The feelings of the captives, as they heard the sound of the drums,the shouts of the natives, and once or twice caught the scream ofagony of their comrades, were terrible. This was the fate thatthey, too, were to undergo; and men who had, a hundred times,looked death in battle in the face, shuddered and trembled at theirapproaching doom.

  Each day two of their number were taken, and the same terriblescene was gone through. Roger was rather surprised that he himselfwas not one of the first selected, as his height and figure madehim specially conspicuous among his comrades; but he supposed thathe was being one of those reserved for some special festival.Whatever the famine might be in the city, the captives were wellfed; for it was a point of honor, among the Aztecs, that allvictims offered to the gods should be in good health and condition.

  The guards were changed every six hours, and on the third day, inthe officer over the relief, Roger recognized, to his surprise anddelight, his friend Bathalda. The latter, as he entered, made asignificant motion to Roger, as he caught his eye, to make no signthat he recognized him.

  The Aztecs, as usual, sat down in groups, chatting. They had nofear whatever of the prisoners attempting to escape in the daytime,and it was only at night that they exercised any special vigilancein seeing that they did not attempt to unloose their bonds.Bathalda presently sauntered up into the corner in which Roger wassitting.

  "How are my friends?" the latter asked, in a low voice.

  "Well," Bathalda replied. "Cuitcatl explained to the young emperorthe circumstances under which he came to know and assist you, andwas at once restored to favor, and now commands a large body oftroops here. I have not seen the princess. She is at the palace.Cuitcatl bade me tell you that they are working for you, and willrescue you before the time comes for your sacrifice; but at presentthe watch is too strict."

  "But I may be chosen, any day," Roger said.

  Bathalda shook his head.

  "Cuitcatl has bribed the priests who choose the victims to leaveyou until the last; so you need not feel uneasiness on that score.Be patient and watchful. If any of your guard approach you and say,'The time is at hand,' you will know that he is a friend. Act as hetells you. I dare not say more, now."

  Ten days passed. Juan had gone, and Roger had been much moved atparting with him--more so, ind
eed, than the old soldier himself,who had kept up firmly, and was prepared to meet his fate withcontempt for his enemies, in the assurance that his death would beterribly avenged.

  Bathalda had not reappeared. As the number of prisoners haddecreased, the guard had been diminished; and as there now onlyremained Roger and one other, and both were still bound, a singleAztec relieved the two who had, the night before, kept guard.

  He stood, indifferently gazing through the loophole, until Roger'scompanion fell asleep. Then he approached him and said:

  "The time is at hand. Tomorrow the other will be taken. The numberwill be made up from the other prisons. At night Cuitcatl will beoutside. The door here will not be bolted. You will have but oneman to watch you; but we know not whom he may be, and may not beable to arrange with him. If we do, he will give you the password.If not, you must deal with him. The man who will follow me is inthe secret. You must unfasten your ropes while he is here, and hewill aid you to do them up again, so that, while to the eye theywill seem secure, they can be shaken off instantly.

  "Bathalda and another will accompany you. I do not know who theother is; but I was told that you would understand."

  That other Roger felt sure must be Amenche; and his heart beathotly, at the thought that his dear princess would share hisflight.

  The hours passed quickly. The next day the last Spaniard was taken;and no sooner had he been forced, struggling and resisting, fromthe chamber; than the guard who, since he had taken up his postfour hours before, had made no sign to Roger, gave the passwordagreed upon. The latter rose to his feet and, with the aid of thenative, unfastened the cords that bound his ankles together.

  For half an hour he paced up and down the chamber, to restore thecirculation to his feet. Then the guard replaced the cords, but didit in such a way that, though they seemed as tight and secure asbefore, they would at a slight effort fall off, and leave him free.

  At eight o'clock in the evening the guard was relieved. He had toldRoger that he was to listen for the cry of an owl outside, twicerepeated; and that upon hearing this, he would know that hisfriends were without. Roger listened anxiously for the passwordfrom his new guard; but as it did not come, he concluded thatCuitcatl had not been able to bribe him, and that he must himselfoverpower the man.

  The Aztec placed himself at the loophole, and stood looking out;turning, from time to time, to see by the light of the torch, whichwas fixed close to where Roger was lying, that he was making noattempt to release himself from his bonds.

  It was not until nearly midnight that Roger heard the expectedsignal. No sooner was the second call given, than he pulled theknot which kept the cords together, raised himself noiselessly tohis feet, and sprang upon the Aztec. Taken by surprise, the man wasno more than a child in Roger's strong grasp. In a moment he wasthrown down, his cloth was twisted round his mouth, so as toprevent any cry from escaping him, and his arms were bound behindhim with Roger's rope.

  Roger then took his sword and javelin, and went to the door. As hehad been told would be the case, the outer bolts were unfastened.Passing along a passage, he came to the outside gate. This wassecurely fastened, but Roger had no difficulty in scaling the roofof a building leaning against the outer wall; and on reaching this,he pulled himself up and dropped down into the street beyond.

  Three persons were standing at the gate, and he at once madetowards them. One ran forward with a little cry, and threw herselfinto his arms. The others were, as he had expected, Cuitcatl andBathalda. The former saluted him warmly.

  "Thank the gods you are free, Roger," he said. "I have a canoeclose at hand for you. Bathalda will accompany you and theprincess. I cannot leave. I am an Aztec, and shall fight until thelast, with our brave young emperor."

  "I hope, Cuitcatl, that when the resistance is over--as it must bebefore long, for I know from the talk of the guards that famine isamong you, and that hundreds are dying daily--I hope that I may beable to aid you, as you are aiding me."

  "I care not to live," Cuitcatl said. "The empire is lost."

  "But there is no dishonor in that," Roger replied. "No men coulddefend themselves more bravely than you have done, and there is nodisgrace in being vanquished by superior arms. I trust that you maylive, and be happy, yet."

  "Let us not stand here talking," the young cazique said. "It is notas it was before. Then you might walk through the city at midnight,without meeting with a single person. We sleep no longer now, butmake nightly attacks on the Spaniards; and at any moment bodies oftroops may come along."

  The little party moved forward, and in a minute descended thesteps. Bathalda took his place in a small canoe lying there.

  "Here is a weapon which will suit you better than that sword andjavelin," he said, handing him a war club, a heavy weapon, withpieces of sharp-pointed obsidian fixed in it.

  Roger helped Amenche into the canoe, wrung Cuitcatl warmly by thehand, and then stepped in.

  "Go," the latter exclaimed. "I can hear troops approaching."

  So saying, he bounded swiftly away. Bathalda sat listening for amoment, to discover the direction from which the troops werecoming. As soon as he made out the soft tread of the shoeless feet,he dipped his paddle in the water, and the boat glided noiselesslyaway.

  It was not long before they emerged from the narrow water way on tothe lake; and then the boat's head was turned in the direction inwhich lay the Tlacopan causeway. Presently Amenche, who had beensitting nestled close to Roger--too happy even to speak--sat up andsaid:

  "Hush!"

  Bathalda ceased rowing.

  "There is a large canoe coming up behind us," he said, listeningintently. "I can hear others on the lake, beyond us."

  "We had better make into the shore again," Roger said, "and letthem pass us."

  The canoe, however, was not very far behind; and those on boardcaught sight of the little craft, as she rowed in towards shore. Itwas unusual to see so small a boat at night. The idea that it mightcontain a spy occurred to them, and they shouted to them to stop.

  Bathalda exerted himself to the utmost, but the canoe came rapidlyup to them. As the command to stop was again disregarded, a volleyof javelins was discharged.

  "We cannot escape," Bathalda said. "They will be upon us, before wecan land."

  "Cease rowing," Roger said.

  "Amenche, lie still, dear, at the bottom of the boat. I will dealwith them."

  Seeing that the oarsmen had stopped paddling, the volley ofjavelins ceased; and the canoe, which contained some twenty men,ran alongside.

  As she did so, Roger sprang on board her. Three or four of thenatives were struck down in an instant, with his terrible weapon.The others, as soon as they recovered from their astonishment, rosefrom their seats and attacked him. Their numbers were but of slightavail. Standing in the bow of the boat, and swinging his weaponround his head, Roger kept them off; beating down one, each timehis weapon fell. In vain they tried to close with him. His greatsize, and the suddenness with which he had attacked them, actedupon their superstitious fears. They knew not what sort of being itwas with whom they had to deal, and the terrible strengthdisplayed, and the instant fate that fell on all who approachedhim, appalled them.

  Roger soon took the offensive and, making his way along the boat,drove them back before him. At last, when more than half theirnumber had fallen, the rest sprang overboard and swam to the shore.Roger had been wounded by three or four spear thrusts, but thesehad been too hastily given to penetrate very deeply.

  "I am unhurt, Amenche," he said, making his way forward again, andstepping into the canoe.

  There was no reply. He stooped over, as she lay quietly there.

  "She has fainted," he said.

  "Row on, Bathalda. You had best give me the other paddle. I canhear boats coming in this direction. No doubt they heard the yells.

  "Skirt along the shore. We shall be unseen, close in; and if theyapproach us, can take refuge in a canal."

  But they passed along unnoticed. When they cau
ght sight of thecauseway, stretching away dimly in front of them, they again rowedout into the lake and, making a long circuit to avoid the canoesattacking Xoloc, the guns of which were firing hotly, came down onthe causeway again in its rear.

  They were hailed as they approached, for the Spaniards were allunder arms. Roger shouted that he was a friend, who had escapedfrom the prison; and the Spaniards, in return, gave a shout ofwelcome. In another two minutes, the canoe lay alongside thecauseway.

  Bathalda sprang on shore, and held the canoe while Roger liftedAmenche up, and stepped out. A dozen hands were held out to assisthim to climb the slippery bank.

  His figure was known by them all. Many exclamations of welcomegreeted him, and many were the inquiries as to the other captives.

  "I will tell you all about it, directly. Bring the torch a littlecloser. I have a lady here who has fainted. We were attacked as wecame out. The fight was a sharp one, and has scared her."

  A soldier brought a torch and, as he did so, Roger uttered a loudcry. Amenche's face was bloodless, and her eyes were closed. But itwas not this that had caused Roger's cry. There was a dark stain onher white dress, and in its center the feathered head of an arrow.While Bathalda and Roger had escaped the missiles, with which thosein the boat heralded their attack; an arrow had struck Amenche, asshe turned, when Roger sprang on board.

  So great was Roger's horror that he reeled, and would have fallen,had not the soldiers standing round supported him.

  "I think that she has but fainted from loss of blood," Bathaldasaid; and Roger, refusing all assistance, carried Amenche to thefort through the ranks of the Spaniards, who were engaged hotlywith their assailants in the canoes.

  He bore her, at once, to the chamber occupied by Marina. She was upand dressed, for the attack was a hot one, and there was no sleepin Xoloc. She uttered a cry of welcome, and gladness, as Rogerentered.

  "I have escaped, Malinche," he said; "but I fear that she has diedin saving me. I have brought her to you, as you are the only womanhere."

  Marina took the girl tenderly, and laid her on a couch.

  "I will see to her," she said, softly. "Leave her to me, Roger."

  As Roger, blinded with tears, left the room, an officer met him atthe door, and told him that Cortez had just heard of his arrival,and desired his presence. The general received him with greatkindness.

  "It is something to see one of my comrades back again, Sancho," hesaid. "I hear how sad a misfortune has befallen you; for I supposethe lady you brought ashore was she of whom Marina spoke to me. Shetold me that she did not give up all hope that you might return;for that the princess whom you loved was in the city, and would,she was sure, do all that she could to save your life."

  "She did so, General," Roger said; "and I fear at the cost of herown--she and a noble young cazique, who was a brother to me, when Iwas living at Tezcuco."

  "I will not trouble you now with questions," Cortez said; "but tellme--do you know whether any of the other prisoners are alive? Everyevening we have marked that terrible procession to the summit ofthe temple. Fifty-eight have been sacrificed, but we know notexactly how many more remain; being ignorant which of our comradesfell, and which were captured."

  "I cannot tell," Roger replied. "I was the only one left, out oftwenty who were in prison together. If they were taken in the sameproportion from the other prisons, there can be but a few remainingnow. I was set aside until the last, because the priest who haddaily chosen out the victims had been bribed by my friendCuitcatl."

  Roger hastened away, as soon as Cortez dismissed him, and hurriedback to Malinche's apartment. Her Mexican attendant, who wasstanding outside the door, opened it when she saw him approaching;and as she came up Malinche stole out, with her finger on her lips.

  "We have taken out the arrow," she said. "She is still insensible;but the leech thinks that it is from loss of blood, and hopes thatno vital point has been injured. More than that he cannot say, atpresent.

  "You had best have your own wounds attended to, now. I will have apile of rugs laid for you, in this little room to the left; andwill let you know if any change takes place."

  "Do you think that there is any hope, Malinche?"

  Malinche shook her head.

  "I know not, Roger. I have already sent off to the mainland, tofetch a leech famous for his skill in the use of herbs. Our peoplehave many simples of which you know nothing in Europe, and they arevery skillful in the treatment of wounds--much more so, I think,than the white men."

  Chapter 22: Home.

  After having had his wounds dressed, Roger threw himself down uponthe bed that had been prepared for him, and lay tossing for hours.Hitherto he had believed, and had often reproached himself for it,that he had not loved Amenche as she had loved him. She had lovedhim with the passion and devotion of the people of her race, and itwas no figure of speech when she said that she was ready to giveher life for him.

  Roger knew that, until lately, his love had been poor by the sideof hers. From the time he had sailed from England, to his firstmeeting with her, he had pictured to himself that some day, when hecame to command a ship of his own, he would marry his cousin, ifshe had borne him in mind since he parted with her on Plymouth Hoe.This dream had faded away, from the time he had first met Amenche;and when Cacama had proposed the marriage to him, he had acceptedthe offer gladly. His chance of ever leaving the country, at thattime, seemed slight; and he felt sure that he should be happy withAmenche. Since that time, the girl's frank expression of her lovefor him, her tender devotion, and her willingness to sacrificecountry, and people, and all, to throw in her lot with him, hadgreatly heightened the feeling he had towards her; and he had cometo love her truly; but still, perhaps, rather with the calm earnestaffection of a brother, than the passionate devotion of a lover.

  But now he knew that she had his whole heart. If she died, itseemed of little consequence to him what became of his life. It wasfor his sake that she had risked everything, had left all--friendsand home and country--and he felt that he would gladly die withher.

  Morning was breaking before Malinche came into his room.

  "She is sensible," she said, "and my countryman, who is with her,thinks that she will live."

  The relief was so great that Roger burst into tears.

  "Come with me," Malinche said, taking his hand. "We do not thinkshe knows what has happened, but she looks anxiously about theroom. She is very, very weak; but the leech thinks that if she seesyou, and knows that you are safe and well, it will rouse her andput her in the way of recovery. You must not talk to her, or exciteher in any way."

  Roger followed Malinche into her room. Amenche was lying, without avestige of color on her face, and with her eyes closed and herbreathing so faint that Roger, as he looked at her, thought thatshe was dead.

  "Take her hand and kneel down beside her," Malinche whispered.

  Roger took the girl's hand. As he did so, a slight tremor ranthrough her, as if she recognized his touch. Then her eyes opened.

  "Amenche, my darling, do you know me?" Roger said, as he stoopedhis face close to hers.

  Her face brightened suddenly, and a look of intense happiness cameinto her eyes.

  "O Roger!" she whispered; "I dreamed that they had killed you."

  "I am safe and well, as you see," he said. "They have hurt you,darling; but you will get better, and we shall be happy together.You must not talk, but I may stay by you, if you will keep quiet.

  "Drink this first," and he handed to her a cup that the Mexicandoctor held out to him; and placing his arm under Amenche's head,raised it and poured the liquid between her lips.

  Then he laid her head down again on the pillow and, kneeling besideher, held her hand in his.

  She lay looking up into his face, with an expression of quiethappiness, occasionally murmuring, "Dear Roger."

  Presently her eyelids drooped, and in a few minutes her regularbreathing showed that she was asleep.

  The Mexican doctor placed another c
up of medicine within Roger'sreach, and murmured in his ear, "I think that she will do now. Giveher this when she awakes. I shall be within call, if I am wanted."

  Amenche slept for some hours, and Roger, overcome by want of sleep,and from the anxiety through which he had passed, dropped off manytimes into short dozes.

  He woke from one of these at a slight movement of Amenche's hand,and opened his eyes at the moment that she was opening hers.

  "What has happened, Roger? And where am I?" she asked, in wonder.

  "First drink this medicine, and then I will tell you," he said."You remember, dear, we were in the boat together, and we wereattacked. An arrow struck you, but I knew nothing about it until Ihad reached the causeway, and found you senseless, and brought youhere to Malinche's room; and she and one of the doctors of yourcountry dressed your wound, and now you have been sleeping quietlyfor some hours."

  "Oh yes," she said, "I remember now. I was struck with an arrow. Itwas a sharp pain, but I did not cry out; for you had need of allyour strength and vigor. I lay there quietly, and heard the din offighting; and at last, when I knew that you had conquered, I felt afaintness stealing over me, and thought that I was dying; and thenI remember nothing more, only it seemed that, in my dreams, youcame to me and knelt by the side of me and kissed me; and now Iknow that that part is true, and I have been having such happydreams, ever since.

  "But why should I lie here? Cannot I get up?"

  "No, dear. You are weak from loss of blood, and quiet is necessary.Lie here a minute. I will fetch the leech in, to see how you are."

  The Mexican was sleeping on some mats outside the door. He at oncecame in and, after examining Amenche, pronounced her decidedlybetter. Malinche, who had given orders that she was to be informedas soon as the princess was awake, came in a minute or two; and aconsultation was held, when it was decided that Amenche should atonce be taken from the fort, which was crowded with soldiers, aswell as exposed to the din and turmoil of the night attacks.

  Malinche went out and soon returned, saying that she had spoken toone of the Tezcucan caziques in alliance with the Spaniards. He hadat once offered to receive Amenche at his palace, which was situatebut three miles from the end of the causeway.

  "I cannot leave Roger again," the princess said, when sheunderstood what was proposed.

  "There is no thought of your leaving him," Malinche said, kindly."Roger is to accompany you. He needs rest and peace almost as muchas you do. Besides, he has been seriously wounded, though he makeslight of it.

  "The cazique has sent off a messenger for a party of his people tomeet you. A boat will be in readiness to take you across the lake,at sunset. You will be carried in litters from the landing place tohis palace."

  This programme was carried out and, by nine o'clock that evening,Roger and Amenche were both settled in luxurious apartments in thecazique's palace.

  Cortez, now recovered from his wounds, prepared for a freshadvance; which was this time to be conducted in a different manner.Against so stubborn and active a foe the advance must beirresistible, steady, and continued. In future, no step backwardwas to be taken. Every breach, every canal, was to be filled up sofirmly and solidly that it could never again be disturbed; and forthis purpose every building--whether a private house, temple, orpalace--was to be demolished. It was with the greatest reluctancethat Cortez arrived at this determination. He would fain have savedthe city intact, as the most glorious trophy of his success; buthis experience showed him that with every house a fortress, everystreet cut up by canals, it was hopeless to expect to conquer it.

  The Indian allies heard his intention with the greatestsatisfaction, for there was ever in their mind the dread that,should the white men depart, the Aztecs would take a terriblerevenge upon their rebellious subjects. Enormous numbers of menwere assembled, and provided with implements for the work. This wassteadily carried out, until the whole of the suburbs were leveled,and a wide space round the city left open for the maneuvers of thecavalry and the play of the artillery.

  Before making the last attack, Cortez tried once more to persuadethe emperor to yield; and sent three Aztec nobles, who had beencaptured in one of the late fights, to bear a message to him. Hetold Guatimozin that he and his people had done all that brave mencould, and that there remained no hope, no chance, of escape. Theirprovisions were exhausted. Their communications cut off. Theirvassals had deserted them, and the nations of Anahuac were bandedagainst them. He prayed him, therefore, to have compassion on hisbrave subjects, who were daily perishing before his eyes, and onthe fair city now fast crumbling into ruins. He begged him toacknowledge his allegiance to the sovereign of Spain; in which casehe should be confirmed in his authority, and the persons, theproperty, and all the rights of the Aztecs should be respected.

  The young monarch would have instantly refused the terms, but hecalled a council to deliberate upon them. Many would have acceptedthem, but the priests threw all their influence in the scaleagainst it; reminding the king of the fate of Montezuma, after allhis hospitality to the Whites, of the seizure and imprisonment ofCacama, of the massacre of the nobles, of the profanation of thetemple, and of the insatiable greed that had stripped the countryof its treasures.

  The answer to the Spaniards was given in the form of a tremendoussortie along each causeway; but the guns of the Spanish batteriesand ships drove the assailants back, and the operations ofdestruction went on. Day by day the army of workers leveled thehouses and filled the canals, although the Mexicans made incessantattacks upon the troops who covered the workmen. For several weeksthe work continued, while the wretched inhabitants were fastwasting away with hunger. All the food stored up had long sincebeen consumed, and the population reduced to feed on roots dug upin the gardens, on the bark of trees, leaves, and grass, and onsuch rats, mice, and lizards as they could capture.

  The houses, as the besiegers advanced, were found to be full ofdead; while in some lay men, women, and children in the last stageof famine. And yet, weakened and suffering as they were, the Aztecsmaintained their resolution, rejecting every overture of Cortez.

  At last the division of Alvarado cleared its way into the greatsquare, and a party, mounting the great temple where so many oftheir comrades had been massacred, defeated the Aztecs who guardedthe position, slaughtered the priests, and set fire to thesanctuary; and the next day the division of Cortez won their way tothe same spot, and joined that of Alvarado.

  Seven-eighths of the city was now destroyed; and with the exceptionof the king's palace and a few temples, all the buildings that had,when they first saw it, so excited the admiration of the Spaniards,and had made the city one of the loveliest in the world, had beenleveled.

  In the portion that remained the whole of the Aztec population werecrowded. Their number was still vast, for before the siege beganthe people from many of the surrounding cities had flocked into thecapital. Pestilence was aiding famine in its work; and the Spanishwriters say that "as the troops advanced, the bodies lay so thickthat it was impossible to walk without treading on them."

  Again and again Cortez endeavored to negotiate with the emperor.Although so reduced by weakness that they could scarce keep theirfeet, the Aztecs maintained their defiant attitude, and the advanceof the allies recommenced. The Aztecs fought as bravely as ever;but they were so weakened that their missiles were no longerdangerous, and their arms could scarce lift their weapons.

  It was a dreadful carnage. The confederates, panting with hatred ofthe race that had subdued and so long humiliated them, showed nopity; and even when Cortez ordered that quarter should be shown toall who asked it, the allies refused to be checked, and the work ofslaughter went on until the Spanish trumpets sounded a retreat.

  During that day, alone, it was calculated that forty thousandpersons had fallen. That night a mournful stillness reigned overthe city. In silent despair, and yet with no thought of surrender,the Aztecs awaited their fate.

  The next morning, August 15th, 1521, the troops were formed upagain; bu
t before ordering the advance Cortez obtained an interviewwith some of the principal chiefs, and persuaded them to see theemperor, and try to induce him to surrender; but the answer camethat Guatimozin was ready to die where he was, and would hold noparley with the Spanish commander. Cortez still postponed theassault for several hours.

  Then, finding delay unavailing, he reluctantly gave the order forthe attack to recommence. As upon the previous day it was a mereslaughter. Many of the Aztecs sought to fly in canoes, but thesewere cut off by the fleet.

  Presently, however, while the butchery was still going on, thewelcome news was brought that Guatimozin himself had been capturedby one of the vessels. With him was his wife, the beautifulPrincess Tecuichpo, a daughter of Montezuma; and twenty nobles ofhigh rank. The news of his capture spread rapidly through the fleetand city, and the feeble resistance the Aztecs still offered ceasedat once.

  Guatimozin was brought before Cortez, and behaved with a dignityand calmness that excited the admiration and respect of the generaland his followers. The next morning, at the emperor's request,Cortez gave permission for all the survivors of the siege to leavethe town; and issued strict orders, both to the Spaniards and theirsavage allies, that no insult or injury should be offered to them.For three days sad processions of men, women, and children--wornout with fatigue, wasted with fever and hunger, and in many casesscarred with wounds--made their way along the causeways. The numberof men, alone, was variously estimated at from thirty to seventythousand.

  The losses during the siege were also placed at varying figures bycontemporary writers. The lowest estimate was one hundred andtwenty thousand, while some writers place it at double that amount.The higher figures probably approximate most nearly to the truth,for the population of the city, in itself very large, wasenormously swelled by the vast number of persons from all thesurrounding cities, who took refuge there at the approach of theSpaniards.

  The Spanish loss was comparatively small, the larger portion of itbeing incurred upon the day of the destruction of Alderete'scolumn. The loss of the allies, however, was very large; as theywere not provided, as were the Spaniards, with armor which defiedthe missiles of the enemy. Of the Tezcucans, alone, it is said thatthirty thousand perished.

  The amount of booty taken in the city was comparatively small, andthe army was bitterly disappointed at the poor reward which itreaped for its labors and sacrifices. There can be no doubt thatthe Aztec treasures were removed and buried, before the approach ofthe Spaniards to the city. Indeed, during the siege the Aztecsconstantly taunted them with shouts that, even if they ever tookthe city, they would find no gold there to reward their efforts.

  The defense of the city of Mexico has been frequently likened tothat of Jerusalem against Titus. In each case a vast population,ignorant of the arts of war, resisted with heroic constancy theefforts of a civilized enemy, and succumbed to hunger and diseaserather than to the foe.

  The fate of the Aztecs befell them because, while a conqueringpeople, they had enslaved and tyrannized over the nations theysubdued; extending to them no rights or privileges, but using themsimply as means of supplying the pomp and luxury of the capital,and of providing men for its wars. Even the cities of the valley,the near neighbors of Mexico, were kept in a galling state ofdependence; and the result was that the whole of the Aztec Empirebroke up at once, and fell upon its oppressors as soon as thecoming of the Spaniards afforded them the opportunity forretaliation and revenge. Had it not been for this, it would haveneeded a force many times as numerous as that of Cortez to conqueran empire so extensive and populous, and composed of peoples sobrave and fearless of death.

  Terrible as the destruction of life was, in the capture of Mexico,the Spaniards were not open to blame for it; except in the massacreof the nobles, for which conduct Cortez was in no way responsible.The war was not conducted with the cruelty that too oftendistinguished the warfare of the Spaniards. Cortez had certainly nodesire to destroy the beautiful capital of the country he hadconquered for Spain. The prisoners taken during the siege, and thepeople who came out and surrendered, were always treated withkindness, even when the Spaniards were maddened by the sight of thedaily sacrifices of their countrymen by the Aztecs. Again andagain, during the siege, Cortez endeavored to induce the enemy tocome to terms; and after the fighting was over, the whole of thesurvivors were permitted to depart unharmed.

  A fortnight after the fall of Mexico, Amenche and Roger were bothconvalescent. Amenche's wound had, after the first day, caused butlittle anxiety. She had fainted from loss of blood, and from theeffects of the long strain which she had undergone, from the timethat she had heard that Roger was a captive in the hands of theMexicans, and destined for sacrifice at the temple. Under theinfluence, then, of happiness; and of the care and attention shereceived; she was, in two or three days, well enough to get up andgo into the adjoining room, and sit by the couch of Roger; who wasprostrated by fever, the result of imprisonment, anxiety, and hiswounds. For a time his life was in danger; but after the crisis hadpassed, he too recovered rapidly.

  Malinche came several times to see them, and a warm affectionsprang up between her and Amenche.

  "What do you mean to do, Roger?" she asked him one day, when shefound him alone.

  "I mean to marry Amenche, at once," he said; "and to go back toEurope, if possible, without delay."

  "I have managed that for you," Malinche said. "I spoke to Cortezyesterday. The city cannot resist many days longer, and after thatwe hope that there will be no more fighting. At any rate, I toldhim that you were so shaken from what you had gone through, itwould be a long time before you would be fit to carry arms again;and that you desired greatly to go to Europe, for a time; and hehas consented that you shall go down to the coast with the firstconvoy of wounded, as soon as the city falls. Of course, he hasgiven consent for your marriage with Amenche; and said, when Iasked him, that she had fairly won you. He says that, if you returnhither, he will give to Amenche a wide portion of her brother'sdominions. I did not tell him that it was little likely he wouldever see you out here, again."

  During the next fortnight, Roger instructed Amenche in the outlinesof the Christian faith and, the day before the convoy was to start,three weeks after the fall of Mexico, Father Olmedo received herinto the Church, and the marriage ceremony took place. It wasattended by Cortez and most of his leaders, and by many of thenative nobles.

  Among them, Roger was glad to meet Cuitcatl. He was one of theparty who had been captured with the emperor; and had been at oncereleased, by Cortez, when the latter was informed by Malinche thathe had befriended and released Roger. That evening, the two friendshad a long talk together.

  "You will be happy," Cuitcatl said, "and will come, in time, inyour home in your own country, to look back at this terrible timeas a troubled dream. I do not mourn for Cacama or Maclutha. Theyare fortunate in escaping the troubles that yet remain, for myunhappy country; for I well foresee that the Spaniards willgradually subdue those who have served them so well in theircampaign against us. Their allies will in time become theirsubjects, until the whole empire of the Aztecs will lie prostrateat their feet.

  "But whatever happens, I shall take no further part in it. I havefought by the side of the Aztecs against my own countrymen. I havedone my best to save our nation from falling under the dominion ofthe Spaniards. I shall retire now to my estates, and devote myselfto them. Cortez has given me a paper, signed by him, saying that I,although fighting against him, saved the life of a Spanishprisoner, who was the only one of those captured who escaped beingsacrificed; and that, therefore, he orders all Spaniards to treatme with kindness and consideration, and confirms to me and myheirs, to all time, the possession of my estates free from alltakes or imposts whatever. Malinche obtained this document fromhim, and has induced the treasurer and chamberlain, also, to affixtheir seals to it; and she says that it will be undoubtedlyrespected.

  "As you know, Roger, I should long ago have married my cousin, whowas one of Maclutha's ladies in
waiting; but we deferred it untilthese troubles should be over. I have been to Tezcuco today, and weshall be married at the end of the week; so that I have every hopeof leading a quiet and happy life, and think that, in the end,these troubles will tend to the happiness of the people of thecountry. As a Tezcucan, I can acknowledge that the Aztec tyrannywas a heavy one, that the people were sorely oppressed. Thewholesale sacrifices at the temples, now abolished forever, werethe cause of constant wars; and I think that when the Spaniardsonce overcome all resistance, and establish a firm and stablegovernment, the people will be happier than they ever could havebeen under the Aztec rule.

  "What has become of Bathalda?"

  "He accompanied us here, and then went off to your estates; sayingthat he should collect a few of his friends and occupy your house,to see that none took advantage of the troubles to plunder it. Irecommend him to your care, Cuitcatl."

  "There is no occasion to do that, Roger. He has been a faithfulservant and friend, and shall in future be my right hand."

  The next morning Malinche came to say farewell to them.

  "How much has taken place, in the last four years, Roger!" shesaid. "Then, I was a slave girl. You were a captive in a strangecountry. What scenes we have passed through since then!

  "I am sorry, indeed, that you are going, Roger," and the tears cameinto her eyes; "you were my first friend, and I have loved you eversince, as a brother. I shall miss you sorely, indeed. However, Iknow that you and Amenche will be happy together.

  "Princess, I have something of yours," and she held up a heavygirdle.

  Amenche gave a cry of joy.

  "I missed it," she said, "but I thought that it must have fallenoff in the boat, or as Roger carried me thence to the castle.

  "See, Roger," she said, holding it out to them, "this is my dowry.I told you I should not come to you a penniless bride, but I havethought lately that I was mistaken. Maclutha, when she died, gaveme all the jewels we carried away from the treasure room atTezcuco. I selected all the most valuable ones, and sewed them intothis broad girdle, which I put on under my things on the night whenyou escaped. Its loss has grieved me, though you have said that thetwo little bags you have, already, would suffice to make you rich.Still, they were Maclutha's, and I wanted to give you mine; but Icould not think what had become of the belt."

  "I found it on you, Amenche, when we loosened your robe to examineyour wound; and put it by to give to you or Roger, whichever mightrecover; and now I am glad to hand it over, as your joint property.I have already returned Roger his own two little bags, that he hadgiven me to take care of.

  "And now, farewell to you both. You will think of me, sometimes, inyour distant home in England?"

  And Malinche, bursting into tears, hurried away.

  The journey to the coast was an easy one, as the sick were alltransported on litters, carried by native porters. The bracing airof the high land did much to restore the strength of the sick men,who had been suffering much from the terrible heat of the valley.The officer in command of the convoy halted them for a week on theTlascalan plateau, in order that they might get the full benefit ofthe cool air; and by the time they reached the coast, and werecarried on board ship, Roger felt his strength fast returning.

  A comfortable cabin was assigned to him and Amenche, as Cortez had,at Malinche's request, written a letter specially commending themto the care of the officer in command of the ship. The voyage toSpain was a long one and, before the vessel arrived at Cadiz, Rogerand Amenche were completely restored to health and strength.

  Roger's success, indeed, had been beyond his wildest hopes. The twobags of jewels, and those which Amenche had brought away with her,would suffice to make him a very rich man. He had, too, anassortment of the finest Mexican stuffs, which Malinche had givenhim as a special present for his friends at home; and he had a barof gold, of the value of a thousand pounds, which was his share (asone of Cortez's bodyguard) of the gold found at the capture of thecapital.

  He had learned, from a vessel which was spoken as they nearedSpain, that England and Spain were in alliance against France; andhe had no doubt, therefore, that he should find English ships atCadiz. His heart was gladdened, as the vessel entered the port, byseeing the English flag flying on several vessels in harbor.

  As soon as Roger and his companions landed, they were surrounded byan eager crowd, all anxious to learn more of the capture of Mexico;of which a swift vessel, sent off as soon as the city fell, hadbrought news six weeks earlier; and Roger had to tell the story ofthe siege a dozen times over.

  As soon as he could get free from the crowd, he went to a moneychanger's, and obtained Spanish gold in exchange for his bar. Thenhe purchased, at a clothier's, a suit of garments of Spanishfashion and, putting these on, was able to move about withoutattracting observation.

  Amenche did not disembark until after nightfall, but Roger's firstcare after landing was to purchase a chestful of garments, fit fora Spanish lady of rank, and to send them out to the vessel. Havingsent these off, he made his way down to the port and, inquiringamong the sailors, found that an English ship would sail on thefollowing day.

  Hiring a boat, he went on board. He determined to maintain hischaracter as a Spaniard to the last, as he would thereby avoid allquestions; and it was, accordingly, in that language that hearranged for a passage for himself and his wife, the captain takinghim for a Spanish gentleman having business with the Court inLondon.

  Having settled this, Roger returned on board and, late in theevening, was rowed with Amenche to the English ship, which was tosail early the next morning. The wind was favorable, and the shipmade a quick passage. The captain and sailors amused Roger by theircomments on his appearance. Never, they agreed, had they seen aSpaniard of such size and strength before.

  "He stands six feet three, if he is an inch," an old sailor said,"and he is as broad as any man I ever saw. He is never a bit like aSpaniard in appearance, with his blue eyes and light brown hair. Ifyou were to put him in good English broadcloth, and teach him totalk like a Christian, no one would dream he was other than anEnglishman. The Spaniards generally have solemn faces, but thischap looks as if he could laugh and joke with the best of us. Onecould almost swear that he understood what I am saying, now."

  Roger was several times tempted to say that he did understand, buthe kept his counsel.

  As soon as they landed, near London Bridge, they went to an inn;and when the sailors who had carried his trunk for him had left, headdressed the landlord in English.

  "Can you direct me to a clothier, where I can obtain suitableclothes?" he said. "I have been staying in Spain and, having beenwrecked and lost all my outfit, had to rig myself in Spanishfashion. I also wish to purchase clothing of English fashion for mywife."

  "I thought you were an Englishman, by your looks," the landlordsaid; "though the fashion of your clothes was altogether foreign,and you speak, too, with a strange accent."

  For indeed, Roger found the English words come with difficulty;after having, for nearly six years, spoken nothing but Mexican andSpanish.

  "I have been some time away," he said; "and have been talking withthe Spaniards until I have well-nigh forgotten my own tongue."

  Two hours later, he was attired in the fashion of a well-to-domerchant; and Amenche made, as he told her, the prettiest wifemerchant ever had. They stayed for a week in London, Amenche beinggreatly amused and interested in all she saw. At the end of thattime, having purchased a stout horse, and a sword to defend himselfagainst any robbers he might meet with on the way, Roger started toride down to Plymouth, with Amenche behind him on a pillion.

  Six days after leaving London they entered the town, and Roger,having seen Amenche comfortably bestowed at the principal inn, tookhis way to the house of Master Diggory Beggs. The latter was in hisshop, and came forward, bowing, as Roger entered it.

  "What can I do for you today, good sir?" he said. "I have goods ofall sorts and kinds: Italian work and Spanish; silks, and satins,and velvets."
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  "I would have a talk with you alone, Master Beggs. I am the bearerof a message from an old friend of yours. If you will grant me afew minutes' talk, we may do business together."

  "By all means," the merchant said, thinking that such anintroduction offered some important transactions. "Will you be goodenough to follow me?" and he led the way upstairs.

  Dame Mercy was sitting at work with her youngest daughter when theyentered the room, Diggory saying:

  "Please to leave, Dame. This gentleman and I have business ofimportance to discuss together."

  "There is no occasion for you to leave us," Roger said. "Mybusiness is not so private but that you and Mistress Agnes may hearus."

  "You know my daughter's name!" Dame Beggs exclaimed, in surprise.

  "The gentleman comes with a message from an old friend of ours,"Diggory said; "and has doubtless heard him mention our daughter'sname."

  "And Dorothy," Roger asked; "she is well, I hope."

  "My eldest daughter was married, three months since," Dame Mercyreplied.

  Roger gave an exclamation of satisfaction.

  "And so none of you know me?" he asked. "And yet, you are butlittle changed; except that Mistress Agnes has grown into a youngwoman, whereas she was but a child when I parted from her."

  Diggory Beggs and his wife gazed at Roger in astonishment. Agnesstood up, with her hands tightly clasped together.

  "It is Roger," she cried. "Oh, mother! It is Roger, come back tous."

  "I am Roger, sure enough, aunt," he said, stooping and kissing her;and then shaking hands with his uncle, and kissing Agnes.

  "And your father," Diggory asked, "and the Swan?"

  "It is a sad story," Roger said. "A very sad story, uncle. Sixyears ago, the Swan was wrecked on the coast of Tabasco; and everysoul, save myself, lost."

  It was a blow for Diggory Beggs. He had, indeed, long since givenup all hope of ever seeing his cousin Reuben, or of obtaining anyreturn for the capital he had embarked on the Swan; but the sightof Roger had, for a moment, raised his hopes that the venture had,after all, been productive. However, he speedily recovered himself.

  "I am grieved to hear it, Roger, though in no ways surprised. Fortwo years we looked for your return; but we have all, long since,given up hope, and written off our shares in the Swan as lostmoney. I am sorry for Reuben, very sorry, for I loved him like abrother.

  "Well, well, do not let us talk about it, now. You are restored tous, safe and sound; and though the loss was a heavy one, andcrippled me for a time, I have got over it.

  "Now, tell us what have you been doing, ever since. And by whatmiracle have you returned, safe and sound?"

  "It is a long story, uncle. A very long story. But before I beginit, I may tell you that, though the ship and its venture were lost,I myself have returned by no means penniless; and can, indeed,repay to the full all the money expended upon the Swan and heroutfit.

  "Now I want you all to come round with me to the inn, for there Ihave left a lady whom I would fain introduce to you."

  "Your wife?" Mistress Mercy cried. "You don't say you have broughthome a wife, Roger?"

  "That do I, aunt. She is a princess, in her own country; but whatis much better, she is the dearest of women, and all but gave herlife to save mine."

  Mistress Mercy looked grave, and was about to speak, when Rogerinterrupted her.

  "I know what you are about to say, aunt. The thought of having aforeign woman for your niece is shocking to you. Never mind, leaveit unsaid, until you have seen her.

  "But as we go, let us call in and see Dorothy, and take her on withus. I should wish her to be one of the first to welcome my wife."

  Dorothy was as astonished as the others had been, when they arrivedat her house with Roger; and cast a meaning glance at him, when sheheard that he had brought home a wife.

  "I know what you are thinking of, Dorothy--our parting on the hoe."

  Dorothy laughed.

  "I meant it when I said it, Dorothy, and meant it for a good timeafterwards. It was only when it seemed that I should never comeback again that I fell in love with some one else; and when youhave heard my story, and know what she did for me, and how much Iowe her, and come to love her for herself, you won't blame me."

  "I don't blame you one bit, Roger," she said, frankly. "When youwent away, we thought we cared for each other; but of course wewere only boy and girl then, and when I grew up and you did notcome home, and it seemed that you never would come home, as yousay, I fell in love with someone else.

  "And now I will put on my hood, and come round and see your wife.What is her name?"

  "Her name is Amenche," Roger said; "and Amenche I mean to call her.When she was christened--for of course she had to be christenedbefore we were married--Father Olmedo said she must have aChristian name, and christened her Caterina; but for all that hername is Amenche, and we mean to stick to it.

  "But come along; she has been an hour alone in this strange place,already, and must begin to think that I have run away from her."

  Dorothy and Agnes were at once won by the soft beauty of thedark-skinned princess; and when, that evening, Roger told the storyof all that had taken place in Mexico, Dame Mercy's last prejudicevanished, and she took Amenche in her arms and kissed her tenderly.

  "My dear," she said, "Roger has always been as a son to me, andhenceforth you will be as one of my daughters."

  As to Diggory, his delight and satisfaction were almost too greatfor words. He was overjoyed that Roger had returned, vastlygratified that the money he expended on the Swan was to be repaid,and greatly captivated by Amenche.

  The princess could speak but a few words of English, for Roger hadbeen afraid to commence her tuition in that language until theywere safely in England: but she was greatly pleased with thewelcome she received; and began, for the first time, to feel thatsomeday she might come to regard this strange country as home.

  There was a long talk, between Roger and his uncle, as to the stepsthat should be taken. It was agreed that, now Spain and Englandwere so closely allied, it would be imprudent in the extreme toallow it to become known that the Swan had sailed for the WesternIndies, or that Roger had obtained wealth there; for if it came tothe ears of the Court--and such strange news would travel fast--itmight well be that a ruinous fine might be imposed upon allconcerned in the matter. Therefore, it was arranged that nothingwhatever should be said about it; but that it should be given outthat the Swan had been wrecked in foreign parts; and that Roger,who had been sole survivor of the wreck, had settled abroad andmade money there, and had married a foreign lady.

  More than that, it would be unnecessary to tell. The gems could besent over, a few at a time, to Amsterdam; and there sold tomerchants who would care nothing whence they came; and the partnersof Diggory Beggs, in the venture of the Swan, would be only tooglad to receive their money back again, and to ask no questions asto how it had been obtained. And so matters were carried out.

  For some months, Roger remained in nominal partnership with hisuncle; and then bought a large estate, a few miles out of the town,where he set up as a country gentleman. He was, for a time,somewhat shyly looked upon by the magistrates of the county, whodeemed it an unheard-of thing for a Plymouth merchant thus tosettle among them; but in time he was accepted, especially after itbecame known that, when he went up to town, he held his place amongthe highest there, and kept a state and expenditure equal to thatof many of the nobles.

  His wife was remarkable, not only for her beauty, but for therichness of her jewels, many of which were fashioned in a way suchas had never before been seen at the English Court. As time wenton, and the relations between England and Spain grew cold, therewas no longer any occasion for secrecy; and little by little itbecame known that the Swan had sailed to the Spanish main, thatRoger had formed one of the conquering band of Cortez, and thatAmenche was not a Spaniard but an Aztec Princess. This caused agreat talk at the time, and added much to the consideration inwhich Roger was held. He took a
leading position in the countryand, many years after, fitted out two ships at his own cost tofight against the Spanish Armada.

  Happily, Amenche's health never suffered from the change to thecomparatively cold climate of Devonshire. She bore Roger severalchildren, and to this day many of the first families in Devonshireare proud that there runs in their veins the blood of the Aztecprincess.