CHAPTER VII.
"Señor Juan Lerma," said Cortes, when the last of the assemblage had reluctantly departed:—He had descended from the platform, and spoke with a voice, which, if not decidedly friendly, was, at least, free from every trace of sternness:—"Señor Juan Lerma, I have to say, that for the result of your enterprise, however it has been attended by calamity, you deserve both thanks and honours; and it will rest upon your own determination whether you shall obtain them or not. Some things there are, growing out of this affair, of which it becomes me to speak; and thereby I shall give you an opportunity to remove certain stains not yet washed from your good name; and after that, to take off others that are thought to attach to mine. Hast thou not heard of those fierce and fatal wars, that broke out in Mexico shortly after thy departure."
"I have," said Juan; "the king's spies brought the news to Tzintzontzan; and they were not only lamentable to hear, but they caused us to be cast into cages, and devoted, as we feared, to die the death of sacrifice: For know, señor, the sanguinary Mexitli is the god of all this land."
"And hadst thou no suspicion, before departing, that these wars were brewing, and threatening us with destruction? Thou wert somewhat quicker in catching the heathen tongue than others, and wert not without counsellors and friends even among the household of Montezuma."
To this demand, the young man, though embarrassed by the innuendo that followed it, did not hesitate to answer:
"I had such suspicions, and I made them known to your excellency."
"You did indeed," said Cortes, musingly; "and I derided them, being somewhat heated at the time: but counsel to an irritated temper is even sharper than salt on a wounded skin.—This knowledge, señor," he went on, "some will impute to thee as good reason why thou shouldst loiter fourteen months in the wilderness, to avoid sharing in our perils, which were somewhat more horrible than have ever before beset Christian men."
"This," said Juan, firmly, and a little dryly, for there was something in the tone of the speaker, which, though he knew not why, impressed him unpleasantly,—"this is to make me a coward, which your excellency will not believe me to be."
"By my conscience, no!" said Cortes, with emphasis. "Without much thought of this present expedition of which we speak, there is no man will accuse thee of fear, who has heard of thy voyage in the fusta. By my conscience, a most mad piece of daring!" he continued as if in admiration, although it was observable, that, while he spoke, his countenance darkened, as though there were some disagreeable thought associated with the recollection. "No," he went on, "there will be more said of anger and ambition than of terror. Thou knowest, we have envy and detraction about us, that spare none. I can hear, already, how Villafana and other knaves of his peevish, malicious temper, will speak of thee.—They will speak of thy causes for resentment, of the promised favour of the plotting king, a principality among the lakes, with the hope of loftier succession, and the hand of the princely Maiden of the Star,——"