Montoro did not, could not, approve of the new, stern step about to be attempted for the conquest of Mexico. Nevertheless, when he unobtrusively placed himself by the General's side, Cortes knew well enough that, should the matter on hand come to bloodshed, Montoro de Diego would die before his General suffered hurt.
Arrived at the palace, the unsuspecting monarch gave his usual gracious and ready assent to his guests' demand for an audience. His oracles of old had foretold the coming of white-faces as gods, or the messengers of the gods, and so he ever treated them with a singular reverential courtesy, even when he had learnt to recognize them as scourges of evil, rather than the bright angels of mercy, teaching and blessing, he had been led to look for and to await with eager hopefulness.
Stationed cautiously, at various intervals between their barracks and the royal residence, were companies of the Spanish soldiers, armed to the teeth, ready to support their General and their officers in case of need. The guns were loaded, and pointed at the palace. Every preparation and precaution was attended to that prudence or foresight could dictate, and with that consciousness Cortes advanced to the undertaking with his usual air of bold, calm confidence.
The poor Emperor was in a specially bright, gay humour. He entered into a cheerful conversation, through the interpreters, with the young Spanish knights, and to prove his brotherly attachment to 'Malinche,' offered him one of his daughters for a wife. He pleased his own generous love of giving, and his guests' love of receiving, by lavishing costly and elegant little gifts upon them after his usual fashion.
Cabrera caught sight suddenly of Montoro de Diego's scornful, curling lip, and eyes flashing with indignation, as Velasquez de Leon bent his head to have a gold chain hung about his neck.
"What is it now, good Long-face?" he muttered, in some slight surprise. "Methought that thou wouldst be well satisfied with this interval of amity."
Montoro turned upon his friend with the fierceness of his ungovernable boyhood.
"I would that yon poor monarch's gifts could burn ye all!" he exclaimed passionately. "The base love of gold hath turned Spaniards into a crew of the meanest hounds that walk the earth. Even a cat would not accept a gift from the mouse it meant to kill."
But Montoro's generous wrath acted as the unintentional signal for the consummation of the proposed act of treachery. His angry words and looks startled the Emperor, and Cortes took advantage of his anxious queries to reply to them in his own way. Suddenly dropping the mask of smiles from his face, he exclaimed sternly—
"Can it surprise you, Montezuma, that my followers should show some tokens of indignation, when their well-loved comrades have been slain by your generals, during the very hours when you have made pretence to grasp their hands as brothers?"