“Not by my order.”
“Then make good the denial, by sending for the officer who did the murder, that he may be punished according to the wickedness of his crime.”
The king took a signet from his wrist, and said to one of his councillors, “Let this be shown to the governor of that province. I require him to come here immediately, with all who were concerned with him at the time spoken of by Malinche.”
The smile with which the monarch then turned to the Spaniard was lost upon him, for he continued, pitilessly as before,—
“The punishment of the governor is not enough. I accuse thee further. Thou treacherous king! Go with me to the temple, and now,—this instant,—I will show thee thy brother, with an army at call, waiting thy signal to attack us in the palace where so lately we received thy royal welcome.”
The listener started from his seat. Upon his bewildered faculties flashed the remembrance of how carefully and with what solemn injunction he had locked his plans of war in the breasts of the members of his family, gathered about him on the azoteas at Chapultepec. His faith in them forbade suspicion. Whence then the exposure? And to the dealer in mysteries Mystery answered, “The gods!” If his former faith in the divinity of the stranger came not back, now, at least, he knew him sustained by powers with which contention were folly. He sunk down again; his head dropped upon his struggling breast;—HE WAS CONQUERED!
And the stern Spaniard, as if moved by the sight, said, in a softened voice,—
“I know not of thy religion; but there is a law of ours,—a mercy of the dear Christ who hath us in his almighty keeping,—by which every sin may be atoned by sacrifices, not of innocent victims, but of the sinner’s self. In the world I come from, so much is the law esteemed, that kings greater than thou have laid down their crowns, the better to avail themselves of its salvation. Thou art an unbeliever, and I may do wrong,—if so, I pray pardon of the Holy Ghost that heareth me,—I may do wrong, I say, but, infidel as thou art, if thou wilt obey the precept, thou shalt have the benefit of the privilege. I do not want war which would end in thy destruction and the ruin of thy city and people; therefore I make thee a proposal. Hear me!”
The unhappy king raised his head, and listened eagerly.
“Arise, and go with us to our quarters, and take up thy abode there. King shalt thou continue. Thy court can go with thee, and thou canst govern from one palace as well as another. To make an end of speech,”—and Cortes raised his hand tightly clenched,—“to make an end of speech, finally and plainly, choose now: go with us or die! I have not brought these officers without a purpose.”