me to
Malinche; I am his prisoner. But let no harm come to my wife and
followers.'

[Illustration]

Holguin took them on board, and then requested that the emperor would
order the people in the other canoes to surrender. 'There is no need,'
he answered sadly, 'they will fight no longer when they see their prince
is taken.' And so it was, for when the news of his capture reached the
shore the Mexicans at once ceased to defend themselves. It seemed as if
they had only gone on so long to give their sovereign a better chance
of escape. Cortes, who had taken up his station on the flat roof of one
of the houses, now sent to command that Guatemozin should be brought
before him, and he came, escorted by Sandoval and Holguin, who each
claimed the honour of having captured him. The conqueror, who was, as
usual, accompanied by the Lady Marina, came forward with dignified
courtesy to receive his noble prisoner. The Aztec monarch broke the
silence saying, 'I have done all I could to defend myself and my people.
I am now reduced to this state. Deal with me, Malinche, as you will.'
Then laying his hand on a dagger which hung from the belt of Cortes, he
added, 'Better despatch me at once with this and rid me of life.'

'Fear not,' answered the conqueror. 'You shall be treated with honour.
You have defended your capital like a brave warrior, and a Spaniard
knows how to respect valour even in an enemy.' He then sent for the
queen, who had remained on board the Spanish ship, and after ordering
that the royal captives should be well cared for and supplied with all
they needed, he proceeded to dispose of his troops. Olid and Alvarado
drew off their divisions to their quarters, leaving only a small guard
in the wasted suburbs of the pestilence stricken city, whilst the
general himself, with Sandoval and the prisoners, retired to a town at
the end of the southern causeway. That night a tremendous tempest arose,
such as the Spaniards had never before witnessed, shaking to its
foundations all that remained of the city of Mexico. The next day, at
the request of Guatemozin, the Mexicans were allowed to leave the
capital, and for three days a mournful train of men, women, and children
straggled feebly across the causeways, sick and wounded, wasted with
famine and misery, turning often to take one more look at the spot which
was once their pleasant home. When they were gone the conquerors took
possession of the place and purified it as speedily