"To-day, they marched against it," said Abdalla, "with all their force, both of Spaniards and Tlascalans; and, I will say for them, that they marched well, fought boldly, and revenged their own heavy losses, in the blood of many barbarians, as well on the pyramid as in the temple-yard and the streets. They came against us, with four such turrets, moving on wheels——"
"Is it possible," cried Amador, "that the general was not sufficiently warned of the inefficacy of those engines, by the doleful fate of the manta, that day, when it was my mishap to be vanquished?—I shall remember the death of the ship-master, Gomez, to the end of my life.—Twice or thrice, did I long to be with him among the fire-worshippers, who must be a very strange people. But the Mexicans are very valiant."
"Of a truth, they are," said the Zegri. "I will not detain my lord with the account of the battle in the streets, wherein the mantas were again, in great part, destroyed; nor will I relate, with what suffering the Castilians won their way to the Wall of Serpents, and the temple-yard. It was here, that I beheld my lord's kinsman, the knight of Calavar, unhorsed, and in the hands of the infidel——"
"Accursed assassin!" cried the neophyte, springing to his feet, "and hast thou kept me in bonds, that my knight should perish thus, without succour?"
"The foe of Granada did not perish, and he was not without succour," said the Zegri, loftily. "When his steed, slipping on the polished stones, with which that yard is paved, fell to the earth, and many savage hands were fastened on his body, there was a friend hard by, who raised both the knight and charger, and preserved them from destruction."
"Give me the name of that most noble friend," cried Don Amador, ardently,—"for, I swear, I will reckon this act to him, in my gratitude, as the salvation of my own life. Tell me, what true Christian was he?"
"One," said Abdalla, calmly, "who hated him as the slayer of his people, but remembered that he repented his evil acts with misery and distraction,—one, who abhorred him for these deeds of sin, and yet loved him, because he was, like his kinsman, the protector of childhood and feebleness."
"I doubt not, that thou wert the man," said the cavalier, faltering, "and, therefore, I return thee my thanks. But I would have thee know, that, whatever blood was improperly shed by my kinsman, was shed by accident and not design; for, no man is more incapable of cruelty than the noble knight, Don Gabriel. But, this shows me, that thou art really of lofty blood; for none but a magnanimous soul can render justice to a hated enemy."
"Why should I dwell upon the conflict in the yard?" continued the Moor, hastily. "Through the flames of the many chapels, that filled it,—with shouts and the roar of muskets,—the Christians, ever victorious, and yet ever conquered even by victory, rushed against the steps of the pyramid, disregarding the stones tumbled on them from the terraces, the darts flung down from the little barbicans or niches in the wall, and the flaming logs shot down, endwise, from the steps. Terrace after terrace, stair after stair, were won; and the Christians stood, at last, on the summit, fighting hand to hand with the four thousand nobles who defended it. My lord cannot think, that even these numbers of naked men could long withstand a thousand Christians, robed in iron, and infuriated by desperation. Score after score were slain, and tumbled from the top; the flames burst from the altar of Mexitli,—the priest died in the sanctuary, the Tlatoani at the downfallen urns; and, in an hour's time, the Spaniards were masters of the pyramid."
"Thanks be to heaven, which fought with them!" cried Amador, devoutly. "And thus may the infidel fall!"