"That may well be," was the answer. "But now they are slain; and although, on my kingly word I declare, without my will or knowledge, I yet profess my deepest grief for the mischance. What would you more, Malinche?"
"That you should come with us now," was the ready answer. "Not as a prisoner, as you put it, but as an honoured guest, surrounded by your own attendants, and free of access to all your subjects as you are here in your own palace."
"And for how long to remain such a guest?" asked Montezuma. He was beginning to waver, not indeed from inward conviction of the truth of the plausible words, but from a growing knowledge that they covered an iron, inflexible resolve; and that he would be allowed no power to summon any of his subjects to his aid from this snare, but at the peril of instant death from that circle of ready, flashing swords. "How long would you that I should thus abide amongst you, Malinche?"
"Until Guanhpopoea and his warriors shall have obeyed your summons hither, to answer for their crimes."
"Crimes," repeated the Emperor. "Their crime, it is but one, Malinche."
"Not so," was the stern, cold answer, while Hernando's piercing eyes fixed themselves with a full gaze upon the monarch's face. "Not so, your Majesty. For one crime, there is the unprovoked slaughter of our brethren. That is for us to avenge. For the other crime, there is the presumptuous warfare waged by your general against those with whom you are at peace, and without your will or knowledge. That is the act of a rebel. That is for you to avenge, that insult to your supreme authority. And it merits—death!"
Before that look, and at that word, Montezuma blanched, as before a fatal blow, and he grew pale as death himself. Even Montoro, in his secret heart, asked himself whether a faithful general were not about to suffer, not for presumption, but for too great fidelity to one who knew the arts of treachery, and of wearing a double face, almost as well as did his Spanish brethren themselves.
One more feeble effort Montezuma made to maintain the dignity of his sovereignty.
"My people will never submit to such an indignity for me, as that I should quit my own royal domain to take up my dwelling with a handful of needy strangers, who have to be dependent on our bounty even for the food they eat."
But this last remonstrance was as vain as all the others had been.