By Right of Conquest; Or, With Cortez in Mexico

by G. A. Henty

"Ah well," Juan grumbled. "If it must come, it must. It will not disturb my appetite."

When Roger learned that orders had been given for the massacre at the temple, he determined firmly that he would take no part in the deed, whatever it might cost him to refuse. Fortunately, he found no difficulty in persuading one of the soldiers, told off to act as a guard at the palace during the absence of the rest, to change places with him, as the man wanted to have his share in the expected plunder. Had Cacama been at liberty, Roger would not have hesitated a moment, but would have left the Spaniards and thrown in his lot with the Mexicans; but now it was impossible to do so. The frenzied population would have seized any white man they came upon, outside the walls of the palace, and would have carried him to the altars of their gods. It would be hopeless to endeavor to explain that he was of another race. All white men would be alike, in their eyes.

He bitterly regretted, now, that he had returned from Tezcuco. Had he, at that time, gone with the queen and princess to the house of his friend Cuitcatl, he could have remained there in quiet; and the natives would have seen that he, at least, had no part or share in this horrible massacre. Now it seemed to him that there was nothing to be done, save to share the lot of the Spaniards, whatever that might be.

He believed that the Mexicans would storm the palace, and slaughter all within it, long before the return of Cortez; and he by no means shared the confident anticipation of the soldiers, that the general, on his arrival, would very speedily put down any insurrection that might occur; and would, with the assistance of the soldiers of Narvaez, soon bring all Mexico into subjection.

It had happened that both Juan and Pedro had also been on guard, during the massacre. This was a great satisfaction to him, for he felt he could no longer have remained in intimate communion with them, had their hands been drenched with innocent blood. When, upon their being relieved at their posts, they joined each other in the chamber they shared in common, the old soldier held up his hand and said gruffly:

"Do you hold your tongue, Sancho. I know what you are thinking, lad, as well as if you said it; and maybe I do not disagree with you; but least said, soonest mended. These rooms without doors are not places for a man to relieve his mind by strong language, if he happens to differ from his superiors. It is a bad business, and a shameful one. At Cholula there was some excuse for it. Here there is none. I am an old soldier, and have taken many a life in my time, but never in cold blood like this. Say nothing, lad, at any rate until you get a chance of being outside this city; or on the lake, where none can get near you--then pour it out, as much as you like."

"It is like enough," Roger said, "that none of us will ever go out of the city alive; and it will serve us thoroughly right. If this is to be a Spaniard and a Catholic, let me be a Mexican and a heathen."

"There, there, that is enough," Juan interrupted. "Now let us have our supper."

"I can eat nothing," Roger said, throwing himself down on the couch, where he remained in silence until a sudden outburst of wild shouts and cries, followed instantly by the trumpet, calling every man to his allotted place on the walls, aroused him.

"The work of vengeance has begun," he said gravely, as he put on his thick padded jerkin and helmet, and took up his pike. "I only hope I may see Alvarado, the author of this massacre, killed before I am."