IF I were writing history, it would delight me to linger
over the details of Cortes' management after the arrest
of Montezuma; for in them were blent, fairly as ever before
seen, the grand diversities of war, politics, and governmental
administration. Anticipating interference from the headquarters
in Cuba, he exercised all his industry and craft to
recommend himself directly to his Majesty, the Emperor
Charles. The interference at last came in the form of a
grand expedition under Panfilo de Narvaez; but in the interval, —
a period of little more than five months, — he had

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practically reduced the new discovery to possession, as attested
by numerous acts of sovereignty, — such, for instance,
as the coast of the gulf surveyed; colonies established;
plantations opened and worked with profit; tribute levied;
high officials arrested, disseized, and executed; the collection
and division of a treasure greater than ever before seen by
Christians in the New World; communication with the capital
secured by armed brigantines on the lakes; the cross set
up and maintained in the teocallis; and last, and, by custom
of the civilized world, most absolute, Montezuma brought to
acknowledge vassalage and swear allegiance to the Emperor;
and withal, so perfect was the administration of affairs, that
a Spaniard, though alone, was as safe in the defiles between
Vera Cruz and Tenochtitlan as he would have been in the
caminos reales of old Spain, as free in the great tianguez as
on the quay of Cadiz.

Narvaez's expedition landed in May, six months after
Cortes entered Tenochtitlan; and to that time I now beg to
advance my reader.

Cortes himself is down in Cempoalla; having defeated
Narvaez, he is lingering to gather the fruits of his extraordinary
victory. In the capital Alvarado is commanding,
supported by the Tlascalans, and about one hundred and
fifty Christians. Under his administration, affairs have
gone rapidly from bad to worse; and in selecting him for
a trust so delicate and important, Cortes has made his first
serious mistake.

At an early hour in the evening Mualox came out of the
sanctuary of his Cû, bearing an armful of the flowers which
had been used in the decoration of the altar. The good
man's hair and beard were whiter than when last I noticed
him; he was also feebler, and more stooped; so the time
is not far distant when Quetzal' will lose his last and

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most faithful servant. As he was about to ascend the stairway
of the tower, his name was called, and, stopping, he was
overtaken by two men.

“Guatamozin!” he exclaimed, in surprise.

“Be not alarmed, father, but put down your burden, and
rest awhile. My friend here, the lord Hualpa, has brought
me news, which calls me away. Rest, therefore, and give
me time for thanks and explanation.”

“What folly is this?” asked Mualox, hastily, and without
noticing Hualpa's salutation. “Go back to the cell.
The hunters are abroad and vigilant as ever. I will cast
these faded offerings into the fire, and come to you.”

The 'tzin was in the guise of a paba. To quiet the
good man's alarm, he drew closer the hood that covered
his head, remarking, “The hunters will not come. Give
Hualpa the offerings; he will carry them for you.”

Hualpa took them, and left; then Mualox said, “I am
ready to hear. Speak.”

“Good father,” the 'tzin began, “not long since, in the
sanctuary there, you told me — I well remember the words —
that the existence of my country depended upon my action;
by which I understood you to prefigure for me an honorable,
if not fortunate, destiny. I believe you had faith in what
you said; for on many occasions since you have exerted
yourself in my behalf. That I am not now a prisoner in the
old palace with Cacama and the lord Cuitlahua is due to you;
indeed, if it be true, as I was told, that the king gave me
to Malinche to be dealt with as he chose, I owe you my life.
These are the greatest debts a man can be bound for; I acknowledge
them, and, if the destiny should be fortunate as
we hope, will pay them richly; but now all I can give you
is my thanks, and what I know you will better regard, — my
solemn promise to protect this sacred property of the holy
Quetzal'. Take the thanks and the promise, and let me have
your blessing. I wish now to go.”

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“Whither?” asked Mualox.

“To the people. They have called me; the lord Hualpa
brings me their message.”

“No, you will not go,” said the paba, reproachfully.
“Your resolution is only an impulse; impatience is not a
purpose; and — and here are peace, and safety, and a holy
presence.”

“But honor, father, —”

“That will come by waiting.”

“Alas!” said the 'tzin, bitterly, “I have waited too long
already. I have most dismal news. When Malinche
marched to Cempoalla, he left in command here the red-haired
chief whom we call Tonatiah. This, you know, is
the day of the incensing of Huitzil' —”

“I know, my son, — an awful day! The day of cruel
sacrifice, itself a defiance of Quetzal'.”

“What!” said Guatamozin, in angry surprise. “Are you
not an Aztec?”

“Yes, an Aztec, and a lover of his god, the true god,
whose return he knows to be near, and,” — to gather energy
of expression, he paused, then raised his hands as if flinging
the words to a listener overhead, — “and whom he would
welcome, though the land be swimming in the blood of unbelievers.”

The violence and incoherency astonished the 'tzin, and as
he looked at the paba fixedly, he was sensible for the first
time of a fear that the good man's mind was affected. And
he considered his age and habits, his days and years spent in
a great, cavernous house, without amusement, without companionship,
without varied occupation; for the thinker, it
must be remembered, knew nothing of Tecetl or the world
she made so delightful. Moreover, was not mania the effect
of long brooding over wrongs, actual or imaginary? Or, to
put the thought in another form, how natural that the

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solitary watcher of decay, where of all places decay is most affecting,
midst antique and templed splendor, should make
the cause of Quetzal' his, until, at last, as the one idea of
his being, it mastered him so absolutely that a division of
his love was no longer possible. If the misgiving had come
alone, the pain that wrung the 'tzin would have resolved
itself in pity for the victim, so old, so faithful, so passionate;
but a dreadful consequence at once presented itself. By a
strange fatality, the mystic had been taken into the royal
councils, where, from force of faith, he had gained faith.
Now, — and this was the dread, — what if he had cast the
glamour of his mind over the king's, and superinduced a
policy which had for object and end the peaceable transfer
of the nation to the strangers?

This thought thrilled the 'tzin indefinably, and in a moment
his pity changed to deep distrust. To master himself,
he walked away; coming back, he said quietly, “The day
you pray for has come; rejoice, if you can.”

“I do not understand you,” said Mualox.

“I will explain. This is the day of the incensing of Huitzil',
which, you know, has been celebrated for ages as a festival
religious and national. This morning, as customary,
lords and priests, personages the noblest and most venerated,
assembled in the court-yard of the temples. To bring the
great wrong out in clearer view, I ought to say, father, that
permission to celebrate had been asked of Tonatiah, and given,—
to such a depth have we fallen! And, as if to plunge
us into a yet lower deep, he forbade the king's attendance,
and said to the teotuctli, `There shall be no sacrifice.'”

“No victims, no blood!” cried Mualox, clasping his hands.
“Blessed be Quetzal'!”

The 'tzin bore the interruption, though with an effort.

“In the midst of the service,” he continued, “when the
yard was most crowded, and the revelry gayest, and the good

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company most happy and unsuspecting, dancing, singing,
feasting, suddenly Tonatiah and his people rushed upon
them, and began to kill, and stayed not their hands until, of
all the revellers, not one was left alive; leaders in battle,
ministers at the altar, old and young, — all were slain!*
O such a piteous sight! The court is a pool of blood.
Who will restore the flower this day torn from the nation?
O holy gods, what have we done to merit such calamity?”

Mualox listened, his hands still clasped.

“Not one left alive! Not one, did you say?”

“Not one.”

The paba arose from his stooping, and upon the 'tzin
flashed the old magnetic flame.

“What have you done, ask you? Sinned against the
true and only god —”

“I?” said the 'tzin, for the moment shrinking.

“The nation, — the nation, blind to its crimes, no less
blind to the beginning of its punishment! What you call
calamity, I call vengeance. Starting in the house of Huitzil',—
the god for whom my god was forsaken, — it will next
go to the city; and if the lords so perish, how may the
people escape? Let them tremble! He is come, he is come!
I knew him afar, I know him here. I heard his step in the
valley, I see his hand in the court. Rejoice, O 'tzin! He
has drunk the blood of the sacrificers. To-morrow his house
must be made ready to receive him. Go not away! Stay,
and help me! I am old. Of the treasure below I might
make use to buy help; but such preparation, like an offering
at the altar, is most acceptable when induced by love.
Love for love. So said Quetzal' in the beginning; so he
says now.”

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“Let me be sure I understand you, father. What do you
offer me?” asked the 'tzin, quietly.

“Escape from the wrath,” replied Mualox.

“And what is required of me?”

“To stay here, and, with me, serve his altar.”

“Is the king also to be saved?”

“Surely; he is already a servant of the god's.”

Under his gown the 'tzin's heart beat quicker, for the question
and answer were close upon the fear newly come to him,
as I have said; yet, to leave the point unguarded in the
paba's mind, he asked, —

“And the people: if I become what you ask, will they
be saved?”

“No. They have forgotten Quetzal' utterly.”

“When the king became your fellow-servant, father, made
he no terms for his dependants, for the nation, for his
family?”

“None.”

Guatamozin dropped the hood upon his shoulders, and
looked at Mualox sternly and steadily; and between them
ensued one of those struggles of spirit against spirit in which
glances are as glittering swords, and the will holds the place
of skill.

“Father,” he said, at length, “I have been accustomed to
love and obey you. I thought you good and wise, and conversant
with things divine, and that one so faithful to his
god must be as faithful to his country; for to me, love of
one is love of the other. But now I know you better. You
tell me that Quetzal' has come, and for vengeance; and that,
in the fire of his wrath, the nation will be destroyed; yet
you exult, and endeavor to speed the day by prayer. And
now, too, I understand the destiny you had in store for me.
By hiding in this gown, and becoming a priest at your altar,
I was to escape the universal death. What the king did, I

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was to do. Hear me now: I cut myself loose from you.
With my own eyes I look into the future. I spurn the destiny,
and for myself will carve out a better one by saving or
perishing with my race. No more waiting on others! no
more weakness! I will go hence and strike —”

“Whom?” asked Mualox, impulsively. “The king and
the god?”

“He is not my god,” said the 'tzin, interrupting him in
turn. “The enemy of my race is my enemy, whether he be
king or god. As for Montezuma,” — at the name his voice
and manner changed, — “I will go humbly, and, from the
dust into which he flung them, pick up his royal duties.
Alas! no other can. Cuitlahua is a prisoner; so is Cacama;
and in the court-yard yonder, cold in death, lie the lords who
might with them contest the crown and its tribulations. I
alone am left. And as to Quetzal', — I accept the doom of
my country, — into the heart of his divinity I cast my spear!
So, farewell, father. As a faithful servant, you cannot bless
whom your god has cursed. With you, however, be all the
peace and safety that abide here. Farewell.”

“Go not, go not!” cried Mualox, as the 'tzin, calling to
Hualpa, turned his back upon him. “We have been as
father and son. I am old. See how sorrow shakes these
hands, stretched toward you in love.”

Seeing the appeal was vain, the paba stepped forward and
caught the 'tzin's arm, and said, “I pray you stay, — stay.
The destiny follows Quetzal', and is close at hand, and brings
in its arms the throne.”

Neither the tempter nor the temptation moved the 'tzin;
he called Hualpa again; then the holy man let go his arm,
and said, sadly, “Go thy way, — one scoffer more! Or, if
you stay, hear of what the god will accuse you, so that,
when your calamity comes, as come it will, you may not
accuse him.”

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“I will hear.”

“Know, then, O 'tzin, that Quetzal', the day he landed
from Tlapallan, took you in his care; a little later, he caused
you to be sent into exile —”

“Your god did that!” exclaimed the 'tzin. “And why?”

“Out of the city there was safety,” replied Mualox,
sententiously; in a moment, he continued, “Such, I say,
was the beginning. Attend to what has followed. After
Montezuma went to dwell with the strangers, the king
of Tezcuco revolted, and drew after him the lords of
Iztapalapan, Tlacopan, and others; to-day they are prisoners,
while you are free. Next, aided by Tlalac, you planned the
rescue of the king by force in the teocallis; for that offence
the officers hunted you, and have not given over their quest;
but the cells of Quetzal' are deep and dark; I called you in,
and yet you are safe. To-day Quetzal' appeared amongst the
celebrants, and to-night there is mourning throughout the
valley, and the city groans under the bloody sorrow; still
you are safe. A few days ago, in the old palace of Axaya',
the king assembled his lords, and there he and they became
the avowed subjects of a new king, Malinche's master; since
that the people, in their ignorance, have rung the heavens
with their curses. You alone escaped that bond; so that, if
Montezuma were to join his fathers, asleep in Chapultepec,
whom would soldier, priest, and citizen call to the throne?
Of the nobles living, how many are free to be king? And
of all the empire, how many are there of whom I might
say, `He forgot not Quetzal”? One only. And now, O
son, ask you of what you will be accused, if you abandon this
house and its god? or what will be forfeit, if now you turn
your back upon them? Is there a measure for the iniquity
of ingratitude? If you go hence for any purpose of war,
remember Quetzal' neither forgets nor forgives; better that
you had never been born.”

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By this time, Hualpa had joined the party. Resting his
hand upon the young man's shoulder, the 'tzin fixed on
Mualox a look severe and steady as his own, and replied, —
“Father, a man knows not himself; still less knows he other
men; if so, how should I know a being so great as you
claim your god to be? Heretofore, I have been contented
to see Quetzal' as you have painted him, — a fair-faced,
gentle, loving deity, to whom human sacrifice was especially
abhorrent; but what shall I say of him whom you
have now given me to study? If he neither forgets nor
forgives, wherein is he better than the gods of Mictlan?
Hating, as you have said, the sacrifice of one man, he
now proposes, you say, not as a process of ages, but at
once, by a blow or a breath, to slay a nation numbering
millions. When was Huitzil' so awfully worshipped?
He will spare the king, you further say, because he has
become his servant; and I can find grace by a like submission.
Father,” — and as he spoke the 'tzin's manner became
inexpressibly noble, — “father, who of choice would
live to be the last of his race? The destiny brings me a
crown: tell me, when your god has glutted himself, where
shall I find subjects? Comes he in person or by representative?
Am I to be his crowned slave or Malinche's? Once
for all, let Quetzal' enlarge his doom; it is sweeter than
what you call his love. I will go fight; and, if the gods of
my fathers — in this hour become dearer and holier than
ever — so decree, will die with my people. Again, father,
farewell.”

Again the withered hands arose tremulously, and a look
of exceeding anguish came to the paba's help.

“If not for love of me, or of self, or of Quetzal', then
for love of woman, stay.”

Guatamozin turned quickly. “What of her?”

“O 'tzin, the destiny you put aside is hers no less than
yours.”

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The 'tzin raised higher his princely head, and answered,
smiling joyously, —

“Then, father, by whatever charm, or incantation, or
virtue of prayer you possess, hasten the destiny, — hasten
it, I conjure you. A tomb would be a palace with her, a
palace would be a tomb without her.”

And with the smile still upon his face, and the resolution
yet in his heart, he again, and for the last time, turned his
back upon Mualox.