exicans, at the misfortune, that they offered no resistance to
the return of the Spaniards from the temple, and retired to their
houses without further fighting.

At night the Spaniards sallied out again, relying upon the habit of
the Mexicans to abstain from fighting at night, and burnt several
hundred houses.

Believing that the spirit of the Mexicans would be broken now,
Cortez, on the following morning, mounted the turret from which
Montezuma had addressed them. Malinche was by his side; and when he
held up his hands, to show that he wished to address them, a
silence fell upon the multitude; and Malinche's voice was heard
plainly by them, as she translated the words of Cortez. He told
them they must now feel that they could not struggle against the
Spaniards. Their gods had been cast down, their dwellings burnt,
their warriors slaughtered. And all this they had brought on
themselves, by their rebellion. Yet if they would lay down their
arms, and return to the obedience of their sovereign, he would stay
his hand. If not, he would make their city a heap of ruins, and
leave not a soul alive to mourn over it.

But Cortez learned, at once, that the spirit he had roused in the
Mexicans was in no way lowered by their reverses. One of the great
chiefs answered him that it was true he had hurled down their gods,
and massacred their countrymen; but they were content to lose a
thousand lives for every one that they took.

"Our streets," he said, "are still thronged with warriors. Our
numbers are scarcely diminished. Yours are lessening every day. You
are dying with hunger and sickness. Your provisions and water are
failing. You must soon fall into our hands. The bridges are broken
down, and you cannot escape. There will be too few of you left to
satisfy the vengeance of the gods."

When he had finished, a shower of arrows showed that hostilities
had recommenced.

The garrison were now completely disheartened. Of what use the
tremendous exertions they had made, and the lives that had been
lost? They were still, as they had been on the first day of their
arrival, hemmed in in their fortress, surrounded by foes thirsting
for their blood. Great numbers were wounded, more or less severely.
Their provisions were well-nigh gone. The enemy were bolder than
ever. They had been promised wealth and honor--they were starving,
and death stared them in the face. They loudly exclaimed that they
had been deceived, and betrayed.

Bu