rand soldiers; and at any rate, now that they see they
must win their way or perish, they will perform wonders."

"Ah!" the exclamation was caused by an arrow striking the young
prince in the chest.

At this time a terrible fight was raging all around them. The
natives had gained a footing on the causeway, and the Spaniards
were fighting hand to hand with them.

"I am mortally wounded, Roger," Cacama said. "Most of the others
have already fallen. It is better so. I have lived long enough to
see vengeance taken on our oppressors.

"Roger, there is one chance for you. Wrap round you one of our
mantles. In the darkness, none will see that you are not a Mexican,
and they will not shoot at you.

"Listen, there is Cuitcatl's war cry. I know his voice; and
doubtless they have discerned our white dresses, in the darkness,
and he is trying to rescue us."

The crowd, pressing along the causeway, had swept the guards away
from the prisoners--indeed, there were now scarcely any prisoners
left to guard. Unprotected by any defensive armor, most of them had
fallen very early in the conflict. Roger was supporting Cacama, and
another prisoner lay dead at their feet.

Roger stooped and snatched off his mantle; then, lifting Cacama in
his arms, forced his way through the press to the edge of the
causeway, just as a canoe ran up alongside, and a number of Aztecs
sprang ashore.

"Cuitcatl!" Roger shouted, at the top of his voice.

"Here," the young noble exclaimed, as he sprang forward.

"Here is Cacama," Roger cried.

At the same moment, he received a stunning blow on the back of his
helmet from one of the Spaniards, who took him for a Mexican; and
fell down the side of the causeway, into the water, with his burden
in his arms.

When Roger recovered his senses, he was lying in a canoe, which was
being paddled rapidly. He had been insensible but a few minutes,
for the cries of the combatants still sounded close at hand.
Cuitcatl was bending over him.

"How is Cacama?" he asked, as soon as he could speak.

"Alas! He is dead," Cuitcatl replied. "You did your best to save
him, Roger.

"He spoke but once, after we had got him into the canoe. He said
'Protect my wife, Cuitcatl; and save our friend.'"

"Where are you taking us?" Roger asked next.

"We will land some distance up the lake. There I will obtain
bearers, and carry Cacama home, that he may be buried as one of his
rank should be. As to you, we must think what had