e carried to-morrow to the garden of which he speaks,
that he may point out the gold. As for the other two, cease tormenting
them for this day. Perhaps they may find another mind before to-morrow.
I trust so, for their own sakes I trust so!'

Then he drew to the corner of the room and consulted with Sarceda and
the other torturers, leaving Marina face to face with Guatemoc and with
me. For a while she stared at the prince as though in horror, then a
strange light came into her beautiful eyes, and she spoke to him in a
low voice, saying in the Aztec tongue:

'Do you remember how once you rejected me down yonder in Tobasco,
Guatemoc, and what I told you then?--that I should grow great in spite
of you? You see it has all come true and more than true, and you are
brought to this. Are you not sorry, Guatemoc? I am sorry, though were I
as some women are, perchance I might rejoice to see you thus.'

'Woman,' the prince answered in a thick voice, 'you have betrayed your
country and you have brought me to shame and torment. Yes, had it not
been for you, these things had never been. I am sorry, indeed I am
sorry--that I did not kill you. For the rest, may your name be shameful
for ever in the ears of honest men and your soul be everlastingly
accursed, and may you yourself, even before you die, know the bitterness
of dishonour and betrayal! Your words were fulfilled, and so shall mine
be also.'

She heard and turned away trembling, and for a while was silent. Then
her glance fell upon me and she began to weep.

'Alas! poor man,' she said; 'alas! my friend.'

'Weep not over me, Marina,' I answered, speaking in Aztec, 'for our
tears are of no worth, but help me if you may.'

'Ah that I could!' she sobbed, and turning fled from the place, followed
presently by Cortes.

Now the Spaniards came in again and removed Guatemoc and the cacique of
Tacuba, carrying them in their arms, for they could not walk, and indeed
the cacique was in a swoon.

'Farewell, Teule,' said Guatemoc as he passed me; 'you are indeed a true
son of Quetzal and a gallant man. May the gods reward you in times to
come for all that you have suffered for me and mine, since I cannot.'

Then he was borne out and these were the last words that I ever heard
him utter.

Now I was left alone with the Tlascalans and de Garcia, who mocked me as
before.

'A little tired, eh, friend Wingfield?' he said sneering. 'Well, the
play is rough till you get used to it. A