Cortes played with the knot of his sword, and reflected.
“Such, then, is the judgment of the army,” he finally said. “And such, gentlemen, is mine, also. But is that enough? What we do as matter of policy may be approved of man, even our imperial master, of whom I am always regardful; but, as matter of conscience, the approval of Heaven must be looked for. Stand out, Father Bartolomé! Upon thy brow is the finger of St. Peter, at thy girdle the cross of Christ. What saith the Church?”
The good man arose, and held out the cross, saying,—
“My children, upon the Church, by Christ himself, this solemn hest hath been placed, good for all places, to be parted from never: ‘Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.’ The way hither hath been through strange seas and deadly climates. Hear me, that ye may know yourselves. Ye are the swords of the Church. In Cempoalla she preached; so in Tlascala; so in Cholula; and in all, she cast out false gods, and converted whole tribes. Only in this city hath the gospel not been proclaimed. And why? Because of a king who to-day, almost in our view, sacrificed men to his idols. Swords of the Church, which go before to make smooth her path, Christ and the Holy Mother must be taught in yon temple of sin. So saith the Church!”
There was much crossing of forehead and breast, and “Amen,” and the sweet name “Ave Maria” sounded through the chamber, not in the murmur of a cathedral response, but outspokenly as became the swords of Christ. The sensation was hardly done, when some one at the door called loudly for Alvarado.
“Who is he that so calleth?” the captain asked, angrily. “Let him choose another time.”
The name was repeated more loudly.
“Tell the mouther to seek me to-morrow.”
A third time the captain was called.
“May the Devil fly away with the fellow! I will not go.”