The Infidel; or, the Fall of Mexico. Vol. I.

"The king is not wise – Guatimozin is in the hands of Cortes!" said Juan, with deep earnestness.

"Olin is the orator – the king is wise," replied the Indian, hastily.

"It is in vain," said Juan. "Thou art Guatimozin! and a captive, too, ere a blow has been struck, in the camp of thy foeman! Is this an end for the king of Mexico?"

"Quauhtimozin can die: there are other kings for the free warriors of Tenochtitlan," replied the young monarch, boldly and haughtily, avowing his name, – which is here given in its original and genuine harshness, that the reader may be made acquainted with it; though it is not intended to substitute it for its more agreeable and familiar corruption: "Guatimozin is a prisoner," he continued, with a firm voice and lofty demeanour, "but the king of Mexico is free. – When did the Great Eagle become the foe of Guatimozin?"

"I am not thy foe," replied Juan, "but thy friend; so far, at least, as it becomes a Christian and Spaniard to be. I lament to see thee in this place – I am not thy foe."

"Raise then thy weapon," said the prince, dropping his haughty manner and ceremonious style, and speaking, as he laid his hand on Juan's arm, with fierce emotion; "strike me through the neck, and cast my body into the pool. – It is not fit that Guatimozin should wear the bonds of Montezuma!"

It must not be supposed that this conversation took place in quiet. During the whole time, on the contrary, the garden continued to resound with the voices of men running from copse to copse, from alley to alley, sometimes drawing nigh, and, at other moments, appearing to be removed to the furthest limits of the grounds. At the moment when the Mexican made his abrupt and insane appeal to the friendship of his capturer, a party of Spaniards rushed by at so short a distance and with so much clamour, that he had good reason to conceive himself almost already in their hands. They passed by, however, and with them fled a portion of Juan's embarrassment. As soon as he perceived they were beyond hearing, he replied:

"This were to be thy foe indeed. But, oh, unwise and imprudent! what tempted thee to this mad confidence?"

"The craft of Malintzin," replied the Mexican, making use of a name which his people had long since attached to Cortes, – "the craft of Malintzin, who ensnares his foe like the wild Ottomi, hidden among the reeds; – he scatters the sweet berry on the lake, and steals upon the feeding sheldrake; so steals Malintzin. He sends words of peace to the foe afar; when the foe is asleep, Malintzin is a tiger!"

"And thou hast been deceived by these perfidious and unworthy arts?" said Juan, the innuendoes of Villafana and the monitions of Magdalena, recurring to his mind with painful force.

"Deceived and trapped!" replied the infidel, with fierce indignation; "cajoled by lies, circumvented by treachery, seduced and betrayed! – Is the Great Eagle like Malintzin?" As he spoke thus, sinking his voice, which was indeed all the time cautiously subdued, he again laid his hand on the young Christian's arm, and continued,

"Art thou such a man, and dost thou desire the blood of thy friend? What shall be said to the little Centzontli, the mocking-bird? The little Centzontli sang the song to Guatimozin, 'Let not the Great Eagle die in the trap!' What sings she now? Does the Great Eagle listen to the little Centzontli?"

"He does," replied Juan, on whom these metaphors, however mysterious they may seem to the reader, produced a strong impression. "Thou art my prisoner, not Don Hernan's; and it rests with me to liberate or to bind, not with him. Answer me, therefore, truly; for if thou hast been trained by treachery into this present danger, coming with thoughts of peace and composition, and not with an army, to surprise and slay, thou shalt be made free, even though the act cost me my life."

"I come in peace: does the leader of an army walk bareheaded and naked? My canoe lies hid among the reeds: my warriors are asleep on the island. The Christian sent for a lord of the city, to give his hand to the angry men of Tlascala. Guatimozin is not the king, but he brought them the hand of the king. – It was the lie of Malintzin! I am betrayed!"

"If I suffer thee to depart," said Juan, anxiously, "canst thou make good thy escape?"

"Is not Guatimozin a soldier?" replied the Mexican, with a gleaming eye. "Give me a sword, and hold fast the Christian tiger." —

"Hark! – peace!" whispered Juan, drawing the prisoner suddenly among the boughs: "we are beset. Hist, Befo, hist!"

With a degree of uneasiness, which approached almost to fear, when he found that Befo, instead of following him into his concealment, remained out upon the illuminated path, where he attracted notice, while expressing fidelity, by setting up an audible growl, Juan heard a man crash through the boughs on the further side of the pool, all the while calling loudly and cheerily to his companions.

"Hither, knaves!" he cried; "the fox is in cover! Hither! quick, hither!"

It was the voice of Guzman. He had caught the growl of the dog, and responded with a shout of triumph, as he ran forward, closely followed by three or four soldiers armed with spears;

"The bloodhound for ever! he has the fox in his mouth, I know by his growling! – Hah, Befo, fool?" he continued, when he had reached the animal; "art thou baying the moon then? – Pass on, pass on: no Indian passes scotfree by Befo at midnight – Pass on, pass on!"

In a moment more, the nook was left to its solitude, and Juan reappeared, with the prince. The sight and voice of Guzman had stirred up his wrath, and he took his measures with a quicker and sterner resolution.

"He protects and loves this man, who is a villain," he muttered through his teeth. "There is nothing else left. Follow me prince: if we are seen, thy fate is not more certain than mine – Follow me in silence."

The garden was still alive with men; they could be seen running about in different directions, though the greatest numbers seemed to be collected at the bottom, near to the lake side. It was not from this circumstance, however, so much as from his ignorance of every portion of the grounds except that by which he had approached the pool, that he bent his steps towards the wing of the palace he had so lately left. He advanced cautiously, taking advantage of every clump of trees, which could afford concealment from any passing group; and once or twice, to allay suspicion, adding his voice to those of the others, as if engaged in the same duty; in which latter stratagem he was ably seconded by the unconscious Befo, whose bark, excited by the shout of his master, was a sufficient warrant to all within hearing, of the friendly character of the party.

Thus assisted by the undesigned help of the dog, and by the imitative caution of the Mexican, he succeeded in reaching the wing of the palace, and the passage that led to his chamber, which was illumined by torches of resinous wood. A door, leading to the open square that surrounded the palace, opened opposite to that by which he entered from the garden. It was his intention, if possible, to pass through this into the city, not doubting that it would be easy to conceal the fugitive among the thousand barbarians of his own colour and appearance, who yet thronged the streets; after which, it would not perhaps be impracticable to find some way to discharge him from the gates. But, unfortunately, as he pressed towards it, he found the outer door beset by armed men, thronging tumultuously in, as if to join their comrades in the garden. There was nothing left him, then, but to seek his apartment, as hastily as he could, and there conceal the Mexican until the heat of pursuit was over. A motion of his hand apprized the fugitive of his change of purpose, and Guatimozin, darting quickly forward, was already stealing into the chamber, when a harsh voice suddenly bawled behind,

"Mutiny and miracles! here runs the rat with the viper! Treason, treason!"

It was the hunchback Najara, whose quick eye detected the vanishing hair, and who now ran forward in pursuit, followed by a confused throng of soldiers, from among whom suddenly darted the cavalier Don Francisco de Guzman.

Juan had reached the door. The cry of Najara assured him that he was discovered; and conscious that his act of generosity was, or of right ought to be, considered little better than sheer treason, the varied passions of hope, grief, indignation and wrath, which had been, the whole evening, chasing one another through his bosom, gave place at once to the single feeling of despair. He felt that he was now lost.

At this very moment, while his brain was confused, and his heart dying within him, a laugh sounded in his ear, and he heard, even above the clamorous shouts of the soldiers, the voice of Guzman, exclaiming,

"What think'st thou now, señor? Art thou conquered? – Stand! I arrest thee."

He turned; the cavalier was within reach of his arm, and the malignant sneer was yet writhing over his visage. The words of scorn, the look of exultation, were intolerable; the rapier was already naked in his hand, and almost before he was himself aware of the act, it was aimed, with a deadly lunge, at Don Francisco's throat.

"The deed has slain thee!" cried Guzman, leaping backwards, so as to avoid a thrust too fiercely sudden to be parried, and then again rushing forward, before he could be supported by the soldiers, who had also recoiled at this show of resistance; "the act has slain thee; and so take the fate thou art seeking!"

As he spoke, he advanced his weapon, which was before unsheathed, against an adversary, whom the recollection of a thousand wrongs had inflamed to frenzy, but who could scarcely be supposed to have retained, during a year of servitude and suffering, the skill in arms, which once made him an equal antagonist. Nevertheless, Guzman's pass was turned aside, and returned with such interest, that, had the field been fair and unincumbered, it is questionable how long he might have lived to repeat it. As it was, the combat was cut short by the interposition of the bloodhound, who, whining, at first, as if unwilling to attack a cavalier so long and so well known as Don Francisco, and yet unable to remain neuter, at last added his fierce yell to the clash of the weapons, and decided the battle by springing against Guzman's breast. It was perhaps fortunate for the cavalier that he did. He had a breastplate on; and, for this reason, Juan aimed the few blows that were made, full at his throat, with the fatal determination of one, who, hopeless of life himself, had sworn a vow to his soul that his enemy should die. It was but the third thrust he had made, (they had scarce occupied so many seconds,) and it was directed with such irresistible skill and violence, that the point of the weapon was already gliding through Guzman's beard and razing his skin, when the weight of Befo's assault, for the third time successful, hurled him from his feet, and thus saved his life, at the expense of a severe gash made through his right cheek and ear.

The whole of this encounter, from the first attack to the fall of Guzman, had not occupied the space of twenty seconds; and Don Francisco was at the mercy of his rival, before even the rapid Najara could advance a spear to protect him. It was not improbable that Juan would have taken a deadly advantage of the mishap, for, as he had declared, in a cooler moment, he hated Don Francisco, and his blood was now boiling. If such, however, was his purpose, he was prevented putting it into execution by another one of those opposing accidents, which seemed this night, to pursue him with such unrelenting rigour.

Before he could advance a single step, a cavalier, bareheaded and unarmed, save that he flourished a naked sword, sprang from the throng of soldiers, followed by the señor Camarga, now without his masking habit, the latter of whom cried with fierce emphasis, all the time, "Kill him! cut him down! kill him!" until the soldiers caught up the cry, and the whole passage echoed with their furious exclamations. These served but the end of still further exasperating the choler of the young man, thus beset as it seemed by the tyranny of numbers; and seeing the bareheaded cavalier advancing against him, and already betwixt him and his fallen rival, he turned upon him with fresh fury.

"Hah!" cried the new antagonist, when Juan's weapon clashed against his own; "traitor! dost thou provoke thy fate?"

The words were not out of his lips, before Juan perceived that he had raised his rapier against the bosom of Cortes. He beheld, in the countenance which he had once loved, the scowl of an evil spirit, and the fire flashing from the general's eyes, was no longer to be mistaken for aught but the revelation of the deadliest hatred. He flung down his sword, resisting no longer, and the next instant would have been run through the body, but that Befo, fearing to attack, and yet unable to resist the impulse of fidelity, sprang up, with a howl, and seized the weapon with his teeth. Before Cortes could disengage it, and again turn it upon the unfortunate youth, the Mexican fugitive glided from the apartment, threw himself before the latter, and taking the point of the weapon in his hand, placed it against his own naked breast. Then bowing his head submissively, he stood in tranquillity, expecting his death.

At his sudden appearance, the soldiers set up a shout, and Cortes was sufficiently diverted from his bloody purpose, to smooth his frowning brow into an air of official sternness.

"Olin is the prisoner of the Teuctli," murmured the captive, in words scarce understood by any one present, except Juan.

"Where bide mine Alguazils?" demanded the Captain-General, without condescending to notice the Mexican any further than merely by removing the rapier from his grasp. "Hah, Guzman! thou art hurt, art thou? By heaven," – But he checked the oath, when he observed that Guzman, already on his feet, notwithstanding the frightful appearance that was given him by the blood running down his cheek and neck, and drippling slowly from his beard, replied to the exclamation with a smile of peculiar coolness: "Get thee to a surgeon. Where bide the Alguazils? Is there no officer to rid me of a traitor?"

"Señor General," said Juan, sullenly, "I am no traitor – "

He was interrupted by the appearance of two men, carrying batons, who bustled from among the crowd, and laid hands upon him. The readiest and the most officious was Villafana, who concealed a vast deal of agitation under an air of extravagant zeal.

"Ha, Villafana! art thou found at last?" cried Don Hernan, with apparent anger. "Hast thou no better care of thy ward on the water-side, but that spies may come stealing into my garden?"

"May it please your excellency," said Villafana, recovering his wit, "I was neither gambling nor asleep; but – 'Slid, this is a pretty piece of villany! Oho, señor mutineer, this is hanging-work? – Speak not a word, as you love life." – This was spoken apart into Juan's ear. – "What is your excellency's will, touching the prisoner?"

"Have him to prison, and see that he escape not."

These words were pronounced with a coolness and gravity that amazed all who had witnessed the rage, which, but a moment before, had shaken the frame of the Captain-General. "And you, ye idle fellows," he continued, addressing the soldiers, "get you to your quarters, to your watch, or to your beds. Begone. – Why loiter ye, Villafana? Conduct away the prisoner."

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."