lined the
proposal, and requested the general to say no more about it, if he would
retain the position he now held in his regard, and that of his people.

Upon this, the iron-souled Castilian assumed a loftier aspect, and a
bolder tone, and abruptly assured the monarch that it was a point he was
not at liberty to dispense with. If he would not remove peaceably and
quietly to the Spanish quarters, he must be carried there forcibly,
though it should involve a struggle that should drench the palace in
blood, and sacrifice the life of every man in his army.

Suddenly, the spirit of the monarch was gone. His old dread of the
white man revived in all its power. He felt himself compelled by his
destiny, to do as he was required. Signifying his assent to the haughty
demand of the stranger, he ordered his nobles to make ready his
palanquin, that he might go in royal state, and not appear in the eyes
of his subjects, as he passed along, as a prisoner in his own capital.

With looks of astonishment, not unmingled with indignation, the proud
chiefs obeyed, marching under their royal burden, with solemn pace and
downcast looks, in utter silence, but nursing in their hearts an
implacable hatred against the insulting Castilians, and a burning rage,
which was yet to burst upon their devoted heads in an overwhelming storm
of wrath. As they passed the threshold of the imperial palace, which
their once proud but now humbled lord was never to recross, they heaved
a deep sigh, as if the dark shadows of the future already hung
frowningly over their heads. It was responded to by a deep, mysterious,
sepulchral groan, which seemed to issue from the very heart of the
earth, while, at the same instant, a royal eagle, sailing proudly over
the capital, struck by an invisible leaden messenger from one of the
sure-sighted marksmen in the Castilian camp, fluttered in his lofty
flight, drooped his strong wing, and, with a terrible death shriek, the
blood streaming freely from his wound, fell into the court, at the very
feet of the royal procession.

The fate of Montezuma, and of his empire, was now sealed. He had, with
his own hand, taken the crown from his head, and laid it at the feet of
the Spaniard. And, more than all, he had humbled himself in the eyes of
his own subjects, and diminished, though few were hardy enough to avow
it, the profound respect and reverence with which they were accustomed
to regard him. To his own immediate household, he