"Talk of true hearts, indeed! That Diego yonder is making the General well-nigh as soft-hearted as himself. What is a soldier, i' faith, if he sets up to have feelings for his foes?"
"I will tell thee," said the calm, clear voice of Montoro unexpectedly. "I will tell thee, friend Leon. He is then a true knight, such a knight as our Cid would have called comrades with, and not a rascal. But the General is calling for us. Father Olmedo waits to say mass, and to bless us ere we start."
"Finish your sentence, Toro," said Cabrera quietly, and with a smile, as he passed on with him to the chapel they had fitted up for their own services.
Montoro looked round at his companion with some slight surprise.
"What finish wouldst have to my sentence, Juan? I understand thee not."
The other laughed as he answered in low tones—
"Mind me not, my dear friend Long-face; but thou knowest well that thy tongue ached to say—'ere we start on our kidnapping expedition.' Ah!" with another low, merry laugh, "said I not truly? Thy face betrays thee."
It was indeed true that Montoro de Diego regarded the present intentions of his companions in anything but a favourable light, although, unless they would retreat, he knew well enough that some strong measure was needful under present circumstances.
All he could do now he did. Whilst Fathers Olmedo and Juan Diaz were engaged in the celebration of mass, he offered up the most fervent, heartfelt prayers that the Father of all would have pity upon all His children, that the Almighty Lord of the universe would so order all things that they should further His kingdom upon earth, and His glory.
The mass ended, Cortes at once set out for the palace of Montezuma, accompanied by a trusty band of his officers—the inflexible, sunny-haired Alvarado, the fiery Velasquez de Leon, the intrepid and upright Sandoval, the wary Lugo, Davila, ready-handed, careless and fearless Juan de Cabrera, and the calm, keen-eyed, dependable, noble Montoro de Diego.