THE movement of the fugitive army was necessarily
slow. Stretched out in the street, it formed a column
of irregular front and great depth. A considerable portion
was of non-combatants, such as the sick and wounded,
the servants, women, and prisoners; to whom might be
added the Indians carrying the baggage and ammunition, and

[figure description] Page 563.[end figure description]

laboriously dragging the guns. The darkness, and the rain
beaten into the faces of the sufferers by the wind, made the
keeping order impossible; at each step the intervals between
individuals and between the divisions grew wider and
wider. After crossing two or three of the bridges, a general
confusion began to prevail; the officers, in dread of the enemy,
failed to call out, and the soldiers, bending low to protect their
faces, and hugging their arms or their treasure, marched in
dogged silence, indifferent to all but themselves. Soon what
was at first a fair column in close order became an irregular
procession; here a crowd of all the arms mixed, there a
thin line of stragglers.

It is a simple thing, I know, yet nothing has so much to
do with what we habitually call our spirits as the condition
in which we are at the time. Under an open sky, with the
breath of a glowing morning in our nostrils, we sing,
laugh, and are brave; but let the cloud hide the blue expanse
and cover our walk with shadow, and we shrink
within ourselves; or worse, let the walk be in the night,
through a strange place, with rain and cold added, and
straightway the fine thing we call courage merges itself into
a sense of duty or sinks into humbler concern for comfort
and safety. So, not a man in all the column, — not a cavalier,
not a slave, — but felt himself oppressed by the circumstances
of the situation; those who, only that afternoon, had
charged like lions along that very street now yielded to the
indefinable effect, and were weak of heart even to timidity.
The imagination took hold of most of them, especially of
the humbler class, and, lining the way with terrors all its
own, reduced them to the state when panic rushes in to
complete what fear begins. They started at the soughing of
the wind; drew to strike each other; cursed the rattle of
their arms, the hoof-beats of the horses, the rumble of the
carriage-wheels; on the houses, vaguely defined against the

[figure description] Page 564.[end figure description]

sky, they saw sentinels ready to give the alarm, and down
the intersecting streets heard the infidel legions rushing upon
them; very frequently they stumbled over corpses yet cumbering
the way after the day's fight, and then they whispered
the names of saints, and crossed themselves: the dead, always
suggestive of death, were never so much so to them.

And so, for many squares, across canals, past palaces and
temples, they marched, and nothing to indicate an enemy;
the city seemed deserted.

“Hist, Señor!” said Duero, speaking with bated breath.
“Hast thou not heard of the army of unbelievers that, in
the night, while resting in their camp, were by a breath put
to final sleep? Verily, the same good angel of the Lord hath
been here also.”

“Nay, compadre mio,” replied Cortes, bending in his saddle,
“I cannot so persuade myself. If the infidels meant
to let us go, the going would not be so peaceful. From
some house-top we should have had their barbarous farewell,—
a stone, a lance, an arrow, at least a curse. By many
signs, — for that matter, by the rain which, driven through
the visor bars, is finding its way down the doublet under my
breastplate, — by many signs, I know we are in the midst of
a storm. Good Mother forfend, lest, bad as it is, it presage
something worse!”

At that moment a watcher on the azoteas of a temple near
by chanted the hour of midnight.

“Didst hear?” asked Cortes. “They are not asleep!
Olmedo! father! Where art thou?”

“What wouldst thou, my son?”

“That thou shouldst not get lost in this Tophet; more
especially, that thou shouldst keep to thy prayers.”

And about that time Sandoval, at the head of his advanced
guard, rode from the street out on the open causeway.
Farther on, but at no great distance, he came to the

[figure description] Page 565.[end figure description]

first canal. While there, waiting for the bridge to be brought
forward, he heard from the lake to his right the peal long
and loud of a conch-shell. His heart, in battle steadfast
as a rock, throbbed faster; and with raised shield and closegriped
sword, he listened, as did all with him, while other
shells took up and carried the blast back to the city, and far
out over the lake.

In the long array none failed to interpret the sound aright;
all recognized a signal of attack, and halted, the slave by
his prolong, the knight on his horse, each one as the moment
found him. They said not a word, but listened; and as they
heard the peal multiply countlessly in every direction, — now
close by, now far off, — surprise, the first emotion, turned to
dismay. Flight, — darkness, — storm, — and now the infidels!
“May God have mercy on us!” murmured the
brave, making ready to fight. “May God have mercy on
us!” echoed the timid, ready to fly.

The play of the wind upon the lake seemed somewhat
neutralized by the density of the rain; still the waves
splashed lustily against the grass-grown sides of the causeway;
and while Sandoval was wondering if there were
many, who, in frail canoes, would venture upon the waste at
such a time, another sound, heard, as it were, under that of
the conchs, yet too strong to be confounded with wind or
surging water, challenged his attention; then he was assured.

“Now, gentlemen,” he said, “get ye ready; they are
coming. Pass the word, and ride one to Magarino, —
speed to him, speed him here! His bridge laid now were
worth a hundred lives!”

As the yells of the infidels — or, rather, their yell, for the
many voices rolled over the water in one great volume —
grew clearer their design became manifest.

Cortes touched Olmedo: —

“Dost thou remember the brigantines?”

[figure description] Page 566.[end figure description]

“What of them?”

“Only, father, that what will happen to-night would not
if they were afloat. Now shall we pay the penalty of their
loss. Ay de mi!” Then he said aloud to the cavaliers,
Morla, Olid, Avila, and others. “By my conscience, a dark
day for us was that in which the lake went back to the
heathen, — brewer, it, of this darker night! An end of
loitering! Bid the trumpeters blow the advance! One
ride forward to hasten Magarino; another to the rear that
the division may be closed up. No space for the dogs to
land from their canoes. Hearken!”

The report of a gun, apparently back in the city, reached
them.

“They are attacking the rear-guard! Mesa spoke then.
On the right hear them, and on the left! Mother of God,
if our people stand not firm now, better prayers for our
souls than fighting for our lives!”

A stone then struck Avila, startling the group with its
clang upon his armor.

“A slinger!” cried Cortes. “On the right here, — can
ye see him?”

They looked that way, but saw nothing. Then the sense
of helplessness in exposure smote them, and, knightly as
they were, they also felt the common fear.

“Make way! Room, room!” shouted Magarino, rushing
to the front, through the advance-guard. His Tlascalans
were many and stout; to swim the canal, — with ropes
to draw the bridge after them, — to plant it across the
chasm, were things achieved in a moment.

“Well done, Magarino! Forward, gentlemen, — forward
all!” so saying, Sandoval spurred across; after him, in reckless
haste, his whole division rushed. The platform, quivering
throughout, was stancher than the stone revetments
upon which its ends were planted; calcined by fire, they

[figure description] Page 567.[end figure description]

crumbled like chalk. The crowd then crossing, sensible
that the floor was giving way under them, yelled with terror,
and in their frantic struggle to escape toppled some of
them into the canal. None paused to look after the unfortunates;
for the shouting of the infidels, which had been
coming nearer and nearer, now rose close at hand, muffling
the thunder of the horses plunging on the sinking bridge.
Moreover, stones and arrows began to fall in that quarter
with effect, quickening the hurry to get away.

Cortes reached the bridge at the same time the infidels
reached the causeway. He called to Magarino; before the
good captain could answer, the waves to the right hand
became luminous with the plashing of countless paddles, and
a fleet of canoes burst out of the darkness. Up rose the
crews, ghost-like in their white armor, and showered the
Christians with missiles. A cry of terror, — a rush, — and
the cavaliers were pushed on the bridge, which they jammed
deeper in the rocks. Some horses, wild with fright, leaped
into the lake, and, iron-clad, like their riders, were seen no
more.

On the further side, Cortes wheeled about, and shouted
to his friends. Olmedo answered, so did Morla; then they
were swept onward.

Alone, and in peril of being forced down the side of the
dike, Cortes held his horse to the place. The occasional boom
of guns, a straggling fire of small arms, and the unintermitted
cries of the infidels, in tone exultant and merciless, assured him
that the attack was the same everywhere down the column.
One look he gave the scene near by, — on the bridge, a mass
of men struggling, cursing, praying; wretches falling, their
shrieks shrill with despair; the lake whitening with assailants!
He shuddered, and called on the saints; then the
instinct of the soldier prevailed: —

“Ola, comrades!” he cried. “It is nothing. Stand, if

[figure description] Page 568.[end figure description]

ye love life. Stand, and fight, as ye so well know how!
Holy Cross! Christo y Santiago!”

He spurred into the thick of the throng. In vain: the
current was too strong; the good steed seconded him with
hoof and frontlet; now he prayed, now cursed; at last
he yielded, seeing that on the other side of the bridge was
Fear, on his side Panic.

When the signal I have described, borne from the lake to
the city, began to resound from temple to temple, the rear-guard
were yet many squares from the causeway, and had,
for the most part, become merely a procession of drenched
and cowering stragglers. The sound alarmed them; and
divining its meaning, they assembled in accidental groups,
and so hurried forward.

Nenetzin and Marina, yet in company, were also startled
by the noisy shells. The latter stayed not to question or
argue; at her word, sharply spoken, her slaves followed fast
after the central division, and rested not until they had
gained a place well in advance of the non-combatants, whose
slow and toilsome progress she had shrewdly dreaded. Not
so Nenetzin: the alarm proceeded from her countrymen;
feared she, therefore, for her lover; and when, vigilant as
he was gallant, he rode to her, and kissed her hand, and spoke
to her in lover's phrase, she laughed, though not understanding
a word, and bade her slaves stay with him.

Last man in the column was Leon, brave gentleman,
good captain. With his horsemen, he closed upon the
artillery.

“Friend,” he said to Mesa, “the devil is in the night.
As thou art familiar with wars as Father Olmedo with mass,
how readest thou the noise we hear?”

The veteran, walking at the moment between two of his
guns, replied, —

“Interpret we each for himself, Señor. I am ready to
fight. See!”

[figure description] Page 569.[end figure description]

And drawing his cloak aside, he showed the ruddy spark
of a lighted match.

“As thou seest, I am ready; yet” — and he lowered his
voice — “I shame not to confess that I wish we were well
out of this.”

“Good soldier art thou!” said Leon. “I will stay with
thee. A la Madre todos!”

The exclamation had scarcely passed his lips when to their
left and front the darkness became peopled with men in
white, rushing upon them, and shouting, “Up, up, Tlateloco!
O, O luilones, luilones!”*

“Turn thy guns quickly, Mesa, or we are lost!” cried
Leon; and to his comrades, “Swords and axes! Upon them,
gentlemen! Santiago, Santiago!”

The veteran as promptly resolved himself into action. A
word to his men, — then he caught a wheel with one hand,
and swung the carriage round, and applied the match.
The gun failed fire, but up sprang a hissing flame, and in
its lurid light out came all the scene about: the infidels
pouring into the street, the Tlascalans and many Spaniards
in flight, Leon charging almost alone, and right amongst
the guns a fighting man, — by his armor, half pagan, half
Christian, — all this Mesa saw, and more, — that the
slaves had abandoned the ropes, and that of the gunners the
few who stood their ground were struggling for life hand to
hand; still more, that the gun he was standing by looked
point-blank into the densest ranks of the foe. Never word
spoke he; repriming the piece, he applied the match again.
The report shook the earth, and was heard and recognized by
Cortes out on the causeway; but it was the veteran's last
shot. To his side sprang the 'tzin: in his ear a war-cry,
on his morion a blow, and under the gun he died. When
Duty loses a good servant Honor gains a hero.

[figure description] Page 570.[end figure description]

The fight — or, rather, the struggle of the few against the
many — went on. The 'tzin led his people boldly, and they
failed him not. Leon drew together all he could of Christians
and Tlascalans; then, as game to be taken at leisure,
his enemy left him. Soon the fugitives following Alvarado
heard a strange cry coming swiftly after them, “O, O luilones!
O luilones!”

And through the rain and the night, doubly dark in the
canals, Hualpa sped to the open lake, followed by nine
canoes, fashioned for speed, each driven by six oarsmen, and
carrying four warriors; so there were with him nine and
thirty chosen men, with linked mail under their white tunics,
and swords of steel on their long lances, — arms and armor
of the Christians.

Off the causeway, beyond the first canal, he waited, until
the great flotillas, answering his signal, closed in on the right
hand and left; then he started for the canal, chafing at the
delay of his vessels.

“Faster, faster, my men!” he said aloud; then to himself,
“Now will I wrest her from the robber, and after that
she will give me her love again. O happy, happy hour!”

He sought the canal, thinking, doubtless, that the Christians
would find it impassable, and that in their front, as the
place of safety, they would most certainly place Nenetzin.
There, into the press he drove.

“Not here! Back, my men!” he shouted.

The chasm was bridged.

And marvelling at the skill of the strangers, which overcame
difficulties as by magic, and trembling lest they should
escape and his love be lost to him after all, he turned his
canoe, — if possible, to be the first at the next canal. Others
of his people were going in the same direction, but he outstript
them.

“Faster, faster!” he cried; and the paddles threshed the

[figure description] Page 571.[end figure description]

water, — wings of the lake-birds not more light and free.
Into the causeway he bent, so close as to hear the tramp of
horses; sometimes shading his eyes against the rain, and
looking up, he saw the fugitives, black against the clouds, —
strangers and Tlascalans, — plumes of men, but never scarf
of woman.

Very soon the people on the causeway heard his call to
the boatmen, and the plash of the paddles, and they quickened
their pace.

“Adelante! adelante!” cried Sandoval, and forward
dashed the cavaliers.

“O my men, land us at the canal before the strangers
come up, and in my palace at ease you shall eat and drink
all your lives! Faster, faster!”

So Hualpa urged his rowers, and in their sinewy hands
the oaken blades bent like bows.

Behind dropped the footmen, — even the Tlascalans; and
weak from hunger and wounds, behind dropped some of the
horses. Shook the causeway, foamed the water. A hundred
yards, — and the coursers of the lake were swift as the
coursers of the land; half a mile, — and the appeal of the infidel
and the cheering cry of the Christian went down the
wind on the same gale. At last, as Hualpa leaped from his
boat, Sandoval checked his horse, — both at the canal.

Up the dike the infidels clambered to the attack. And
there was clang of swords and axes, and rearing and plunging
of steeds; then the voice of the good captain, —

“God's curse upon them! They have our shields!”

A horse, pierced to the heart, leaped blindly down the
bank, and from the water rose the rider's imploration:
“Help, help, comrades! For the love of Christ, help! I
am drowning!”

Again Sandoval, —

“Cuidado, — beware! They have our swords on their

[figure description] Page 572.[end figure description]

lances!” Then, observing his horsemen giving ground,
“Stand fast! Unless we hold the canal for Magarino, all is
lost! Upon them! Santiago, Santiago!”

A rally and a charge! The sword-blades did their work
well; horses, wounded to death or dead, began to cumber the
causeway, and the groans and prayers of their masters caught
under them were horrible to hear. Once, with laughter and
taunting jests, the infidels retreated down the slope; and
once, some of them, close pressed, leaped into the canal.
The lake received them kindly; with all their harness
on they swam ashore. Never was Sandoval so distressed.

Meantime, the footmen began to come up; and as they
were intolerably galled by the enemy, who sometimes landed
and engaged them hand to hand, they clamored for those
in front to move on. “Magarino! The bridge, the
bridge! Forward!” With such cries, they pressed upon
the horsemen, and reduced the space left them for action.

At length Sandoval shouted, —

“Ola, all who can swim! Follow me!

And riding down the bank, he spurred into the water.
Many were bold enough to follow; and though some were
drowned, the greater part made the passage safely. Then
the cowering, shivering mass left behind without a leader,
became an easy prey; and steadily, pitilessly, silently,
Hualpa and his people fought, — silently, for all the time he
was listening for a woman's voice, the voice of his beloved.

And now, fast riding, Cortes came to the second canal,
with some cavaliers whom he rallied on the way; behind
him, as if in pursuit, so madly did they run, followed all of
the central division who succeeded in passing the bridge.
The sick and wounded, the prisoners, even king Cacama
and the women, abandoned by their escort, were slain and
captured, — all save Marina, rescued by some Tlascalans,
and a Spanish Amazon, who defended herself with sword
and shield.

[figure description] Page 573.[end figure description]

At points along the line of flight the infidels intercepted
the fugitives. Many terrible combats ensued. When the
Christians kept in groups, as did most of the veterans, they
generally beat off the assailants. The loss fell chiefly upon
the Tlascalans, the cross-bowmen, and arquebusiers, whose
arms the rain had ruined, and the recruits of Narvaez, who,
weighted down by their treasure and overcome by fear, ran
blindly along, and fell almost without resistance.

One great effort Cortes made at the canal to restore
order before the mob could come up.

“God help us!” he cried at last to the gentlemen with
him. “Here are bowmen and gunners without arms, and
horsemen without room to charge. Nothing now but to save
ourselves! And that we may not do, if we wait. Let us
follow Sandoval. Hearken to the howling! How fast they
come! And by my conscience, with them they bring the
lake alive with fiends! Olmedo, thou with me! Come,
Morla, Avila, Olid! Come, all who care for life!”

And through the mêleé they pushed, through the murderous
lancers, down the bank, — Cortes first, and good
knights on the right and left of the father. There was
plunging and floundering of horses, and yells of infidels, and
the sound of deadly blows, and from the swimmers shrieks
for help, now to comrades, now to saints, now to Christ.

“Ho, Sandoval, right glad am I to find thee!” said
Cortes, on the further side of the canal. “Why waitest
thou?”

“For the coming of the bridge, Señor.”

“Bastante! Take what thou hast, and gallop to the next
canal. I will do thy part here.”

And dripping from the plunge in the lake, chilled by the
calamity more than by the chill wind, and careless of the
stones and arrows that hurtled about him, he faced the fight,
and waited, saying simply, — “O good Mother, hasten
Magarino!”

[figure description] Page 574.[end figure description]

Never prayer more hearty, never prayer more needed!
For the central division had passed, and Alvarado had come
and gone, and down the causeway to the city no voice of
Christian was to be heard; at hand, only the infidels with
their melancholy cry, of unknown import, “O, O luilones!
O, O luilones!” Then Magarino summoned his Tlascalans
and Christians to raise the bridge. How many of them had
died the death of the faithful, how many had basely fled, he
knew not; the darkness covered the glory as well as the
shame. To work he went. And what sickness of the spirit,
what agony ineffable seized him! The platform was too
fast fixed in the rocks to be moved! Awhile he fought,
awhile toiled, awhile prayed; all without avail. In his
ears lingered the parting words of Cortes, and he stayed
though his hope was gone. Every moment added to the
dead and wounded around him, yet he stayed. He was
the dependence of the army: how could he leave the
bridge? His men deserted him; at last he was almost
alone; before him was a warrior whose shield when struck
gave back the ring of iron, and whose blows came with the
weight of iron; while around closer and closer circled the
white uniforms of the infidels; then he cried, —

“God's curse upon the bridge! What mortals can, my
men, we have done to save it; enough now, if we save ourselves!”

And drawn by the great law, supreme in times of such
peril, they came together, and retired across the bridge.

Then rose the cry, “Todo es perdido! All is lost! The
bridge cannot be raised!” And along the causeway from
mouth to mouth the warning flew, of such dolorous effect
as not merely to unman all who heard it, but to take from
them the instincts to which life so painfully intrusts itself
when there is no judgment left. Those defending themselves
quitted fighting, and turned to fly; except the gold,

[figure description] Page 575.[end figure description]

which they clutched all the closer, many flung away everything
that impeded them, even the arquebuses, so precious
in Cortes' eyes; guns dragged safely so far were rolled into
the lake or left on the road; the horses caught the contagion,
and, becoming unmanageable, ran madly upon the
footmen.

When the cry, outflying the fugitives with whom it began,
reached the thousands at the second canal, it had somewhere
borrowed a phrase yet more demoralizing. “The bridge
cannot be raised! All is lost! Save yourselves, save yourselves!”
Such was its form there. And about that time, as
ill-fortune ordered, the infidels had gathered around the fatal
place until, by their yells and missiles there seemed to be
myriads of them. Along the causeway their canoes lay
wedged in, like a great raft; and bolder grown, they flung
themselves bodily on the unfortunates, and strove to carry
them off alive. Enough if they dragged them down the
slope, — innumerable hands were ready at the water's edge to
take them speedily beyond rescue. Momentarily, also, the
yell of the fighting men of Tenochtitlan, surging from the
city under the 'tzin, drew nearer and nearer, driving the
rear upon the front, already on the verge of the canal
with barely room for defense against Hualpa and his
people. All that held the sufferers passive, all that gave
them endurance, the virtue rarer and greater than patience,
was the hope of the coming of Magarino; and the announcement,
at last, that the bridge could not be raised,
was as the voice of doom over their heads. Instantly,
they saw death behind them, and life nowhere but forward, —
so always with panic. An impulse moved them,—
they rushed on, they pushed each with the might
of despair. “Save yourselves, save yourselves!” they
screamed, at the same time no one thought of any but
himself.

[figure description] Page 576.[end figure description]

To make the scene clear to the reader, he should remember
that the causeway was but eight yards across its
superior slope; while the canal, about as wide, and crossing
at right angles, was on both sides walled with dressed masonry
to the height, probably, of twelve feet, with water at
least deep enough to drown a horse. Ordinarily, the peril
of the passage would have been scorned by a stout swimmer;
but, alas! such were not all who must make the attempt
now.

The first victims of the movement I have described were
those in the front fighting Hualpa. No time for preparation:
with shields on their arms, if footmen, on their horses, if
riders, — a struggle on the verge, a cry for pity, a despairing
shriek, and into the yawning chasm they were plunged; nor
had the water time to close above their heads before as
many others were dashed in upon them.

Cortes, on the further side, could only hear what took
place in the canal, for the darkness hid it from view; yet
he knew that at his feet was a struggle for life impossible to
be imagined except as something that might happen in the
heart of the vortex left by a ship foundering at sea. The
screams, groans, prayers, and execrations of men; the neighing,
snorting, and plunging of horses; the bubbling, hissing,
and plashing of water; the writhing and fighting, —
a wretch a moment risen, in a moment gone, his death-cry
half uttered; the rolling of the mass, or rather its impulsion
onward, which, horrible to think, might be the fast
filling up of the passage; now and then a piteous appeal for
help under the wall, reached at last (and by what mighty
exertion!) only to mock the hopes of the swimmers, — all this
Cortes heard, and more. No need of light to make the
scene visible; no need to see the dying and the drowning,
or the last look of eyes fixed upon him as they went down,
a look as likely to be a curse as a prayer! If never before or

[figure description] Page 577.[end figure description]

never again, his courage failed him then; and turning his
horse he fled the place, shouting as he went, —

“Todo es perdido! all is lost! Save yourselves, save
yourselves!”

And in his absence the horror continued, — continued
until the canal from side to side was filled with the bodies
of men and horses, blent with arms and ensigns, baggage,
and guns, and gun-carriages, and munitions in boxes and
carts, — the rich plunder of the empire, royal fifth as well as
humbler dividend, — and all the paraphernalia of armies,
infidel and Christian; filled, until most of those who escaped
clambered over the warm and writhing heap of what
had so lately been friends and comrades. And the gods of
the heathen were not forgotten by their children; for sufferers
there were who, snatching at hands offered in help,
were dragged into canoes, and never heard of more. Tears
and prayers and the saving grace of the Holy Mother and
Son for them! Better death in the canal, however dreadful,
than death in the temples, — for the soul's rest, better!

Slowly along the causeway, meantime, Alvarado toiled
with the rear-guard. Very early he had given up Leon
and Mesa, and all with them, as lost. And to say truth,
little time had he to think of them; for now, indeed, he
found the duties of lover and soldier difficult as they had
been pleasant. Gay of spirit, boastful but not less generous
and brave, skilful and reckless, he was of the kind to attract
and dazzle the adventurers with whom he had cast his lot;
and now they were ready to do his bidding, and equally
ready to share his fate, life or death. Of them he constituted
a body-guard for Nenetzin. Rough riders were they,
yet around her they formed, more careful of her than
themselves; against them rattled and rang the stones and
arrows; against them dashed the infidels landed from their
canoes; sometimes a cry announced a hurt, sometimes a fall

[figure description] Page 578.[end figure description]

announced a death; but never hand of foe or flying missile
reached the curtained carriage in which rode the little
princess.

Nor can it be said that Alvarado, so careful as lover, failed
his duty as captain. Sometimes at the rear, facing the 'tzin;
sometimes, with a laugh or a kiss of the hand, by the
palanquin; and always his cry, blasphemous yet cheerful,
“Viva á Christo! Viva Santa Cruz! Santiago, Santiago!”
So from mistress and men he kept off the evil bird Fear.
The stout mare Bradamante gave him most concern; she
obeyed willingly, — indeed, seemed better when in action;
yet was restless and uneasy, and tossed her head, and — unpardonable
as a habit in the horse of a soldier — cried for
company.

“So-a, girl!” he would say, as never doubting that she
understood him. “What seest thou that I do not? or is
it what thou hearest? Fear! If one did but say to me that
thou wert cowardly, better for him that he spoke ill of my
mother! But here they come again! Upon them now!
Upon them, sweetheart! Viva á Christo! Viva la Santa
Cruz!”

And so, fighting, he crossed the bridge; and still all went
well with him. Out of the way he chased the foe; on the
flanks they were beaten off; only at the rear were they
troublesome, for there the 'tzin led the pursuit.

Finally, the rear-guard closed upon the central division,
which, having reached the second canal, stood, in what condition
we have seen, waiting for Magarino. Then Alvarado
hurried to the palanquin; and while there, now checking
Bradamante, whose uneasiness seemed to increase as they
advanced, now cheering Nenetzin, he heard the fatal cry
proclaiming the loss of the bridge. On his lips the jest
faded, in his heart the blood stood still. A hundred voices
took up the cry, and there was hurry and alarm around him,

[figure description] Page 579.[end figure description]

and he felt the first pressure of the impulsive movement
forward. The warning was not lost: —

“Ola, my friends!” he said, at once aroused, “Hell's
door of brass hath been opened, and the devils are loose!
Keep we together —”

As he spoke the pressure strengthened, and the crowd
yelled “Todo es perdido! Save yourselves!”

Up went his visor, out rang his voice in fierce appeal, —

“Together let us bide, gentlemen. We are Spaniards, and
in our saddles, with swords and shields. The foe are the
dogs who have bayed us so to their cost for days and weeks.
On the right and left, as ye are! Remember, the woman we
have here is a Christian; she hath broken the bread and
drunken the wine; her God is our God; and if we abandon
her, may he abandon us!”

Not a rider left his place. The division went to pieces,
and rushed forward, sweeping all before it except the palanquin;
as a boat in a current, that floated on, — fierce the
current, yet placid the motion of the boat. And nestled
warm within, Nenetzin heard the tumult as something terrible
afar off.

And all the time Hualpa kept the fight by the canal.
Hours passed. The dead covered the slopes of the causeway;
on the top they lay in heaps; the canal choked with them;
still the stream of enemies poured on roaring and fighting.
Over the horrible bridge he saw some Tlascalans carry two
women, — neither of them Nenetzin. Another woman came
up and crossed, but she had sword and shield, and used
them, shrilly shouting the war-cries of the strangers. Out
towards the land the battle followed the fugitives, — beyond
the third canal even, — and everywhere victory! Surely,
the Aztecan gods had vindicated themselves; and for the
'tzin there was glory immeasurable. But where was Nenetzin?
where the hated Tonatiah? Why came they not?

[figure description] Page 580.[end figure description]

In the intervals of the slaughter he began to be shaken by
visions of the laughing lips and dimpled cheeks of the loved
face out in the rain crushed by a hoof or a wheel. At other
times, when the awful chorus of the struggle swelled loudest,
he fancied he heard her voice in agony of fear and pain.
Almost he regretted not having sought her, instead of waiting
as he had.

Near morning from the causeway toward the city he heard
two cries, — “Al-a-lala!” one, “Viva á Christo!” the other.
Friend most loved, foe most hated, woman most adored!
How good the gods were to send them! His spirit rose, all
its strength returned.

Of his warriors, six were with the slain; the others he
called together, and said, —

“The 'tzin comes, and the Tonatiah. Now, O my friends, I
claim your service. But forget not, I charge you, forget not
her of whom I spoke. Harm her not. Be ready to follow me.”

He waited until the guardians of the palanquin were close
by, — until he heard their horses' tread; then he shouted,
“Now, O my countrymen! Be the 'tzin's cry our cry!
Follow me. Al-a-lala, al-a-lala!”

The rough riders faced the attack, thinking it a repetition
of others they had lightly turned aside on the way; but
when their weapons glanced from iron-faced shields, and they
recognized the thrust of steel; when their horses shrunk
from the contact or staggered with mortal hurts, and some
of them fell down dying, then they gave way to a torrent of
exclamations so seasoned with holy names that they could
be as well taken for prayers as curses. Surprised, dismayed,
retreating, — with scarce room for defence and none for
attack, still they struggled to maintain themselves. Sharp
the clangor of axes on shields, merciless the thrust of the
blades, — cry answered cry. Death to the horse, if he but
reared; to the rider death, if his horse but stumbled.

[figure description] Page 581.[end figure description]

Nevertheless, step by step the patient Indian lover approached the
palanquin. Then that which had been as a living wall
around the girl was broken. One of her slaves fell down,
struck by a stone. Her scream, though shrill with sudden
fear, was faint amid the discordances of storm and fight;
yet two of the combatants heard it, and rushed to the rescue.
And now Hualpa's hand was on the fallen carriage—
happy moment! “Viva á Christo! Santiago, Santiago!”
thundered Alvarado. The exultant infidel looked
up: right over him, hiding the leaden sky, — a dark impending
danger, — reared Bradamante. He thrust quickly,
and the blade on the lance was true; with a cry, in its
excess of agony almost human, the mare reared, fell back,
and died. As she fell, one foot, heavy with its silver shoe,
struck him to the ground; and would that were all!

“Ola, comrades!” cried Alvarado, upon his feet again, to
some horsemen dismounted like himself. “Look! the girl
is dying! Help me! as ye hope for life, stay and help
me!”

They laid hold of the mare, and rolled her away. The
morning light rested upon the place feebly, as if afraid of its
own revelations. On the causeway, in the lake, in the canal,
were many horrors to melt a heart of stone; one fixed Alvarado's
gaze, —

“Dead! she is dead!” he said, falling upon his knees,
and covering his eyes with his hands, “O mother of Christ!
What have I done that this should befall me?”

Under the palanquin, — its roof of aromatic cedar, thin as
tortoise shell, and its frame of bamboo, light as the cane of
the maize, all a heap of fragments now, — under the wreck
lay Nenetzin. About her head the blue curtains of the carriage
were wrapped in accidental folds, making the pallor of
the face more pallid; the lips so given to laughter were
dark with flowing blood; and the eyes had looked their

[figure description] Page 582.[end figure description]

love the last time; one little hand rested palm upward upon
the head of a dead warrior, and in it shone the iron cross of
Christ. Bradamante had crushed her to death! And this,
the crowning horror of the melancholy night, was what the
good mare saw on the way that her master did not, — so the
master ever after believed.

The pain of grief was new to the good captain; while yet it
so overcame him, a man laid a hand roughly on his shoulder,
and said, —

“Look thou, Señor! She is in Paradise, while of those
who, at thy call, stayed to help thee save her but seven are
left. If not thyself, up and help us!”

The justice of the rude appeal aroused him, and he retook
his sword and shield, and joined in the fight, — eight
against the many. About them closed the lancers; facing
whom one by one the brave men died, until only Alvarado
remained. Over the clashing of arms then rang the 'tzin's
voice, —

“It is the Tonatiah! Take him, O my children, but harm
him not; his life belongs to the gods!”

Fortunately for Alvarado a swell of Christian war-cries
and the beat of galloping horses came, about the same time,
from the further side of the canal to distract the attention
of his foemen. Immediately Cortes appeared, with Sandoval,
Morla, Avila, and others, — brave gentlemen come
back from the land, which they had safely gained, to save
whom they might of the rear-guard. At the dread passage
all of them drew rein except Morla; down the slope of the dyke
he rode, and spurring into the lake, through the canoes and
floating débris, he headed to save his friend. Useless the
gallantry! The assault upon Alvarado had ceased, — with
what purpose he knew. Never should they take him alive!
Hualpa's lance, of great length, was lying at his feet. Suddenly,
casting away his sword and shield, he snatched up

[figure description] Page 583.[end figure description]

his enemy's weapon, broke the ring that girdled him, ran to
the edge of the canal, and vaulted in air. Loud the cry of
the Christians, louder that of the infidels! An instant he
seemed to halt in his flight; an instant more, and his
famous feat was performed, — the chasm was cleared, and he
stood amongst his people saved.

Alas for Morla! An infidel sprang down the dike, and
by running and leaping from canoe to canoe overtook him
while in the lake.

“Sword and shield, Señor Francisco! Sword and shield!
Look! The foe is upon thee!”

So he was warned; but quick the action. First, a blow
with a Christian axe: down sank the horse; then a blow
upon the helmet, and the wave that swallowed the steed received
the rider also.

“Al-a-lala!” shouted the victor.

“The 'tzin, the 'tzin!” answered his people; and forward
they sprang, over the canoes, over the bridge of the dead, —
forward to get at their hated enemies again.

“Welcome art thou!” said Cortes to Alvarado. “Welcome
as from the grave, whither Morla — God rest his soul!—
hath gone. Where is Leon?”

“With Morla,” answered the captain.

“And Mesa?”

“Nay, Señor Hernan, if thou stayest here for any of the
rear-guard, know that I am the last of them.”

“Bastante! Hear ye, gentlemen?” said Cortes. “Our
duty is done. Let us to the land again. Here is my foot,
here my hand: mount, captain, and quickly!”

Alvarado took the seat offered behind Cortes, and the
party set out in retreat again. Closely, across the third
canal, along the causeway to the village of Popotla, the 'tzin
kept the pursuit. From the village, and from Tlacopan the
city, he drove the bleeding and bewildered fugitives. At

[figure description] Page 584.[end figure description]

last they took possession of a temple, from which, as from
a fortress, they successfully defended themselves. Then the
'tzin gave over, and returned to the capital.

And his return was as the savior of his country, — the
victorious companies behind him, the great flotillas on his
right and left, and the clouds overhead rent by the sounding
of conchs and tambours and the singing and shouting of the
proud and happy people.

Fast throbbed his heart, for now he knew, if the crown
were not indeed his, its prestige and power were; and
amidst fast-coming schemes for the restoration of the empire,
he thought of the noble Tula, and then, — he halted suddenly: —

“Where is the lord Hualpa?” he asked.

“At the second canal,” answered a cacique.

“And he is —”

“Dead!”

The proud head drooped, and the hero forgot his greatness
and his dreams; he was the loving friend again, and as such,
sorrowing and silent, repassed the second canal, and stood
upon the causeway beyond. And the people, with quick
understanding of what he sought, made way for him. Over
the wrecks of the battle, — sword and shield, helm and
breastplate, men and horses, — he walked to where the lover
and his beloved lay.

At sight of her face, more childlike and beautiful than
ever, memory brought to him the sad look, the low voice,
and the last words of Hualpa, — “If I come not with the
rising sun to-morrow, Nenetzin can tell you my story,” —
such were the words. The iron cross was yet in her hand,
and the hand yet rested on the head of a warrior lying near.
The 'tzin stooped, and turned the dead man over, and lo!
the lord Hualpa. From one to the other the princely mourner
looked; a mist, not of the lake or the cloud, rose and hid

[figure description] Page 585.[end figure description]

them from his view; he turned away, — she had told him all
the story.

In a canoe, side by side, the two victims were borne to the
city, never to be separated. At Chapultepec they were laid
in the same tomb; so that one day the dust of the hunter,
with that of kings, may feed the grass and color the flowers
of the royal hill.

He had found his fortune!

Here the chronicles of the learned Don Fernando abruptly
terminate. For the satisfaction of the reader, a professional
story-teller would no doubt have devoted several
pages to the careers of some of the characters whom he
leaves surviving the catastrophe. The translator is not disposed
to think his author less courteous than literators generally;
on the contrary, the books abound with evidences of
the tender regard he had for those who might chance to
occupy themselves with his pages; consequently, there must
have been a reason for the apparent neglect in question.

If the worthy gentleman were alive, and the objection
made to him in person, he would most likely have replied:
“Gentle critic, what you take for neglect was but a compliment
to your intelligence. The characters with which I
dealt were for the most part furnished me by history. The
few of my own creation were exclusively heathen, and of
them, except the lord Maxtla and Xoli, the Chalcan, disposition
is made in one part or another of the story. The
two survivors named, it is to be supposed, were submerged in
the ruin that fell upon the country after the conquest was
finally completed. The other personages being real, for perfect
satisfaction as to them, permit me, with the profoundest
respect, to refer you to your histories again.”

[figure description] Page 586.[end figure description]

The translator has nothing to add to the explanation except
brief mention that the king Cuitlahua's reign lasted
but two months in all. The small-pox, which desolated the
city and valley, and contributed, more than any other cause,
to the ultimate overthrow of the empire, sent him to the tombs
of Chapultepec. Guatamozin then took the vacant throne,
and as king exemplified still further the qualities which had
made him already the idol of his people and the hero of his
race. Some time also, but whether before or after his coronation
we are not told, he married the noble Tula, — an event
which will leave the readers of the excellent Don Fernando
in doubt whether Mualox, the paba, was not more prophet
than monomaniac.