my voice for you. Now come, friend, for
the torch burns low. By this time you must be well seasoned in dangers;
one more or less will matter as little to you as to me.'

Then I rose and followed him into the great cedar-panelled hall, where
that very morning I had received adoration as a god. Now I was a god no
longer, but a prisoner on trial for his life. Upon the dais where I had
stood in the hour of my godhead were gathered those of the princes and
counsellors who were left alive. Some of them, like Guatemoc, were clad
in rent and bloody mail, others in their customary dress, and one in
a priest's robe. They had only two things in common among them, the
sternness of their faces and the greatness of their rank, and they sat
there this night not to decide my fate, which was but a little thing,
but to take counsel as to how they might expel the Spaniards before the
city was destroyed.

When I entered, a man in mail, who sat in the centre of the half circle,
and in whom I knew Cuitlahua, who would be emperor should Montezuma die,
looked up quickly and said:

'Who is this, Guatemoc, that you bring with you? Ah! I remember; the
Teule that was the god Tezcat, and who escaped the sacrifice to-day.
Listen, nobles. What is to be done with this man? Say, is it lawful that
he be led back to sacrifice?'

Then the priest answered: 'I grieve to say that it is not lawful most
noble prince. This man has lain on the altar of the god, he has even
been wounded by the holy knife. But the god rejected him in a fateful
hour, and he must lie there no more. Slay him if you will, but not upon
the stone of sacrifice.'

'What then shall be done with him?' said the prince again.

'He is of the blood of the Teules, and therefore an enemy. One thing is
certain; he must not be suffered to join the white devils and give
them tidings of our distresses. Is it not best that he be put away
forthwith?'

Now several of the council nodded their heads, but others sat silent,
making no sign.

'Come,' said Cuitlahua, 'we have no time to waste over this man when the
lives of thousands are hourly at stake. The question is, Shall the Teule
be slain?'

Then Guatemoc rose and spoke, saying: 'Your pardon, noble kinsman, but
I hold that we may put this prisoner to better use than to kill him. I
know him well; he is brave and loyal, as I have proved, moreover, he is
not all a Teule, but half of another race that hates them as he hates
them. Also he has k