a moment I wavered. On the one hand was the loss of honour with life
and liberty and the hope of home, on the other a dreadful end. Then I
remembered my oath and Otomie, and what she would think of me living or
dead, if I did this thing, and I wavered no more.

'I know nothing of the treasure, general,' I answered coldly. 'Send me
to my death.'

'You mean that you will say nothing of it, traitor. Think again. If you
have sworn any oaths they are broken by God. The empire of the Aztecs
is at an end, their king is my prisoner, their great city is a ruin. The
true God has triumphed over these devils by my hand. Their wealth is my
lawful spoil, and I must have it to pay my gallant comrades who cannot
grow rich on desolation. Think again.'

'I know nothing of this treasure, general.'

'Yet memory sometimes wakens, traitor. I have said that you shall die
if yours should fail you, and so you shall to be sure. But death is not
always swift. There are means, doubtless you who have lived in Spain
have heard of them,' and he arched his brows and glared at me meaningly,
'by which a man may die and yet live for many weeks. Now, loth as I am
to do it, it seems that if your memory still sleeps, I must find some
such means to rouse it--before you die.'

'I am in your power, general,' I answered. 'You call me traitor again
and again. I am no traitor. I am a subject of the King of England, not
of the King of Spain. I came hither following a villain who has wrought
me and mine bitter wrong, one of your company named de Garcia or
Sarceda. To find him and for other reasons I joined the Aztecs. They are
conquered and I am your prisoner. At the least deal with me as a brave
man deals with a fallen enemy. I know nothing of the treasure; kill me
and make an end.'

'As a man I might wish to do this, Wingfield, but I am more than a man,
I am the hand of the Church here in Anahuac. You have partaken with the
worshippers of idols, you have seen your fellow Christians sacrificed
and devoured by your brute comrades. For this alone you deserve to be
tortured eternally, and doubtless that will be so after we have done
with you. As for the hidalgo Don Sarceda, I know him only as a brave
companion in arms, and certainly I shall not listen to tales told
against him by a wandering apostate. It is, however, unlucky for you,'
and here a gleam of light shot across the face of Cortes, 'that there
should be any old feud between you, seeing that it is to h