The countenance of the king darkened:
"Is not the Great Eagle brave? He fears his enemies!"
"I fear nothing," said Juan, with conscious dignity, "else would I speak no words to lose thy favour. I will be thy prisoner, thy sacrifice, if thou wilt.—I lament the fate that is coming upon thee, but I cannot fight in thy cause."
Guatimozin eyed him earnestly, as if to read his soul; and then said, a little softly,
"The Great Eagle knows all things: he shall rest in the palace all day, and at night, speak wise things to the king."
"Neither in this can I aid thee," replied Juan, resolutely. "What I know of religion and moral duties,—nay, all that I know of civilized arts, that are not military,—this much I am free to communicate; but nothing more. I can no more help thee to fight with my knowledge, than with my arm."
This was a declaration of principles somewhat above the powers of the infidel to appreciate, and it filled him, as Juan saw, with serious displeasure. He took him by the arm, and spoke sternly and even menacingly:
"The faith of a Christian is not that of a Mexican. The Indian kills his foes and the foes of his friend: the Christian forgets his friend, when his friend is in trouble."
Juan was stung by the reproach, and replied with emphasis:
"The king took me from the prison-house of Tezcuco: the block was in waiting for me. Who talked to me of prisons and of blocks, before Olin came to the garden?"