"The tale comes from the Alguazil Villafana—"
"Hah!" said Cortes, in surprise; "how knowest thou that?"
"Because there is no other,—no other, save one, who will not speak it,—in all this land, who knows so much of me; and because, were there twenty, the man whom heaven has cursed with the industrious treachery of a spider, and the rage to entangle all things in his flimsy web, would be the first to betray me."
"Thou sayst the truth of Villafana," said Cortes, with a laugh of peculiar exultation. "In spirit and intention, he is the insect you have named; but yet he spins his web, less like the spider, with the chance of destroying, than the silken-caterpillar, that toils for his master, who will smother him in his work, as soon as it is perfected. Ay, thy penetration is clear, thy conception just; the knave is, in all things, a traitor,—a double, a triple,—a centupled traitor!"
"And you both spare him, and give him the means of multiplying his dangerous villanies?"
"I do, by my conscience!" said Cortes, vivaciously. "There is a charm in it, and no little policy. Dost thou think this little fly can deceive? can deceive me?—Wert thou a man, thou wouldst know, that even above the triumph of vengeance, is the joy of him who watches the nets that his foe is spreading, and, as he watches, fastens them softly down upon the ensnarer."
"And is the insect worthy to be toiled by the lion?"
"Ay,—when the lion is a man!—This is my diversion; it is also my profit. I would not for a thousand crowns, any harm should come to so serviceable a tool: a better decoy never circled the disaffected about him. He is the touchstone that reveals me the metal of the doubtful,—the diamond that cuts me the adamant of malignancy. I look through him, as through the philosopher's glass, and behold the million things of corruption that swarm in the hearts of the curs beneath him.—By heaven! it joys me, that I have one to whom I can speak these secret blisses. Thou art my vizier, my very familiar. Know then, that this very night, the dog meditates a treachery, with which I will be acquainted, and yet seem unacquainted. By my conscience, it delights me to tell thee, with what exquisite industry the poor knave works me a good, while foolishly believing he is doing me an ill. Dost thou not remember that I have told thee, how much it concerns me to procure some trusty envoy, to go between me and the young infidel, Guatimozin of Tenochtitlan?"
"I am familiar with your wishes."
"Learn then, that, this night, Villafana himself procures me the emissary I have myself sought after in vain,—a Mexican noble of high rank.—I could kiss the dog for his knavery!"