Now the door was tottering, and another blow brought it down. The crowd surged through, led by Mendoza, Candia following close. Pizarro's drawn, anxious face and labored breathing showed that he was desperately hard pressed. Cristoval with merciless, silent determination upon his death, was pushing him closely, but weariness clogged his movements, and the fatal thrust was undelivered. Neither of the combatants seemed to see the inrush of the soldiers. Cristoval's back was toward them, and Mendoza drove at him without a word, putting all his strength and hate into a lunge with which he meant to settle all scores. His point caught in the links of the mail, the blade bent and snapped close at the hilt. The lunge whirled Cristoval half around and sent him full length upon the floor. Pizarro sank back against the wall in exhaustion, while Mendoza drew his dagger and with an oath sprang upon his prostrate enemy. Before he could use it Candia had seized him, hurled him back, and stood over Cristoval, facing the circle of soldiers.
Pizarro, half inarticulate with weariness and rage, found breath enough to gasp: "Kill him! Kill him!—In God's name!—will none of you put an end to that accursed mutineer?"
The circle closed a bit nearer, but Candia poised his sword, and they hesitated. Cristoval had regained his feet and placed himself back to the wall, panting, but undismayed. At this juncture Almagro hurried in and breaking through the crowd, demanded:—
"What is this? Our swords turned against one another? What meaneth it?" He was answered by an excited and unintelligible chorus. Pizarro started forward, his face distorted with frenzy.
"Kill him, I say, ye damned gawping sheep!" he bellowed again. "What!—will ye disobey? Fall upon him, or I'll flay you to the last man!"
"Nay!" interposed Almagro. "Stand back! All in good time and order. Peralta, thou 'rt a prisoner. Take him away, Candia."
"Out of the way, Almagro!" thundered Pizarro, struggling to pass him. "I'll have his life! Strike him down, ye dogs!"
"Away with him, Candia!" commanded Almagro, sturdily opposing the general and thrusting him back. "Fall in about him, men, and make him secure."
"Come!" said Candia, in a low voice, and seizing Cristoval by the arm, hurried him out, surrounded by a dozen pikes, leaving Almagro to quiet the infuriated Pizarro. In the hall outside Cristoval surrendered his sword.
Word of the affair spread rapidly over the town, and as prisoner and escort left the palace they encountered a throng already gathered at the door, held back by the crossed halberds of the sentinels, whom they besieged with questions. As Cristoval stepped out, still breathing heavily and disordered from the struggle, their clamor ceased, and they stared at him in silence, hardly able to believe they beheld the stanch Cristoval in arrest for having turned his sword against his general.