Juan raised his eyes once more to the general, and seemed as if he would have spoken; but, confused and bewildered by the extraordinary termination of the drama of the day, chilled by frowns, oppressed by a consciousness of having provoked his fate, his head sunk in a deep dejection on his breast, and he suffered himself to be led silently away.
A gleam of light, such as flares up at night from a decaying brand, just lost in ashes, sprang up in the leader's eyes, as they followed the steps of the unhappy youth, until, passing from that door, which he had so vainly sought to gain with the Mexican, he vanished from sight. Its lustre was hidden from all but the captive, who, maintaining throughout the whole scene, the self-possession, characteristic of all the American race, from the pygmies of the Frozen Sea to the giants of Patagonia, did not lose the opportunity thus afforded, of diving into the thoughts of the Invader.
As soon as Juan Lerma had departed, with the mass of the soldiers, Cortes turned to the Mexican, and with a mild countenance, and a gentle voice, which were designed to convey the proper interpretation of his Castilian speech, said,
"Let my young friend, the Tlatoani, be at peace, and fear not; no harm is designed him."
Then, making a signal to those who remained, to lead the captive after him, he passed into the garden, and thence, by a private entrance, into the hall of audience.
CHAPTER XIII.
It has been already mentioned, that the person of Guatimozin was familiar to few, or none, of the Spaniards. Intensely and consistently hostile to the invaders, from the first moment of their appearance in the Valley, he had ever kept aloof from them, and was one of the few princes of Mexico, whom neither force nor stratagem could reduce to thraldom. His youth, indeed,—his want of authority, (for though of the loftiest birth and the highest military fame, he enjoyed, at first, no independent command or government,) and, hence, his apparent insignificance,—had made the possession of his person of no great consequence; and it was not until he was seen leading the incensed citizens up against the guns of the garrison, and directing the assault which terminated in the life of Montezuma, that he began to be considered an enemy worthy to be feared. Even then, however, he was but one among the warlike followers of Cuitlahuatzin,—the successor of Montezuma,—and on the famous battle-field of Otumba, he fought only as a second in command. But from that time until the present moment, his name was constantly before the Spaniards, first as the king of Iztapalapan, then as a leader among those royal warriors, sent forth by Cuitlahuatzin, now to annoy the Spaniards, even among their fortresses on the borders of Tlascala, and now to chastise those rebellious tribes which were daily acknowledging allegiance to the Spaniard, and preparing to march with him against Tenochtitlan.
The death of Cuitlahuatzin had suddenly exposed him to view as the probable successor to the imperial dignity; and the act of the royal electors, (the kings of Mexico were chosen by the crowned vassals of the empire,) in bestowing the mantle and sceptre, had left nothing to be done to confirm his authority, save a solemn inauguration on the day of an august religious and national festival.
He had thus assumed the attitude which Montezuma had once preserved in the eyes of the Conquistador; and it was as much the policy of Cortes to attempt the acts of delusion with him, as it had been with his predecessor. The craftier and haughtier Guatimozin had, however, rejected his overtures with disdain; and, justly appreciating the character and designs of his enemy, he prepared for war as the only alternative of slavery. He had already concentrated in his city, and in the neighbouring towns, the whole martial force of the tribes yet valiant and faithful; he had laboured, with an address that was not always ineffectual, to regain the false and rebellious; and, rising above the weakness of national resentments, he had even striven to unite his hereditary foes in a league of resistance against the stranger, who, whether frowning or smiling, whether courting with friendship, or subduing with arms, was yet, and equally, the enemy of all.