Enough has been said to explain the purpose for which he so rashly threw himself into the power of the Conqueror. The certain assurance of disaffection in the invader's camp, not only among the allies, but among the Spaniards themselves, was enough to fire his heart with the desire of employing against Don Hernan a weapon which his foe had used so fatally against him; and, besides, the opportunity of detaching the Tlascalans from the Spanish interest, was too captivating to be rejected. These were advantages to be investigated and promoted by himself, rather than by agents; and, confiding in his enemies' ignorance of his person, in his cunning, and in the interested fidelity of traitors, who had already grasped at bribes, and were eager to be better acquainted with his bounty, he did not scruple to direct his midnight skiff among the reeds on the lakeside, and, in the guise of a mere noble, trust himself alone in their power.
If the reader desire to know what could induce any of the followers of Cortes to treat thus perfidiously with the infidel enemy whose wealth was promised as the certain guerdon of war, he may be answered almost in a word. The dangers of the war were manifold and obvious to all, and the horrors of the five days' battles in the streets of Mexico, and more than all, the calamities of the midnight retreat, had given such a foretaste of what might be expected from a prosecution of the campaign, that full half the army looked forward to it with equal terror and repugnance. A majority of those who survived the Noche Triste, were followers of the unfortunate Narvaez, and some of them yet friendly to the deceived Velasquez. They remained with Cortes upon compulsion, and they hated him not only for their inability to return to their peaceable farms among the islands, for past calamities, and coming misfortunes, but for the superior favours showered so liberally, and indeed so naturally, upon those who had been his original, and were yet his faithful, adherents. In a word, they regarded the reduction of the Mexican empire as hopeless, and their own fate, if they remained, as already written in characters of blood. The bolder scowled and complained, the feeble and the crafty dissembled, but evil thoughts and fierce resolutions were common to all. They burned to be released from what was to them intolerable bondage, and the means were not to be questioned, even though they might involve connivance and collusion with the foe. But such collusion was by no means known, nor even suspected, by any save the few desperadoes who had risen to the bad eminence of leaders. Even Villafana was ignorant of the true character of his guest, and esteemed him to be only what he represented himself,—Olin, the young noble, an orator, counsellor, and confidential agent of Guatimozin. It was not possible for the Captain-General to regard him in any other light.
Whatever may have been the young monarch's thoughts, his secret misgivings and self-reproaches, as he strode, closely environed by cavaliers, into the great hall, now dimly lighted by tapers of vegetable wax and torches of fragrant wood, they were exposed by no agitation of countenance or hesitation of step; and when Cortes ascended the platform to his seat, and turned his penetrating eye upon him, he preserved an air of the most fearless tranquillity. For the space of several moments, the general regarded him in silence; then commanding all to leave the apartment, excepting Sandoval, Alvarado, and another cavalier who officiated as interpreter, he said to Alvarado, with a mild voice, very strangely contrasted with the rudeness of his words,
"Look into the face of this heathen dog, and tell me if thou knowest him."
Alvarado had been, as the historical reader is aware, left in Mexico, the jailer of Montezuma and the warden of the city, during the absence of Cortes, when he marched against Narvaez. It was supposed, therefore, that Don Pedro was better acquainted with the persons of the principal nobles than any other cavalier. He examined the captive curiously, and at last said, shaking his head,
"Methinks his visage is not unknown; and yet I wot not to whom it belongs. The knave is but a boy. If he be a noble, never trust me but he is one of Guatimozin's making, and therefore not yet of consequence."
At the sound of his own name, the only word distinguishable by the prisoner, Alvarado observed that his brow contracted a little. But this awoke no suspicion.
"Demand of him," said Cortes to the interpreter, "his name, and the purpose of his coming to Tezcuco?"
When this was explained to the Mexican, his brow contracted still further, but rather with inquisitiveness than embarrassment:
"I am Olin-pilli," (that is, Olin the Lord, or Lord Olin,) he replied, "the speaker of wise things to the king, and the mouth of nobles."