e
wounded. The maddened roar of countless thousands of the fiercest
warriors surging around their bulwarks almost deafened the ear. Every
moment it was apprehended that the walls would be scaled, and the
inundation pour in resistlessly upon them.

In this extremity Cortez decided to appeal to his captive Montezuma,
and try the effect of his interposition to soothe or overawe his
subjects. Assuming the tone of humanity, he affected to deplore the
awful carnage which had taken place. He affirmed that the city must
inevitably be destroyed entirely, and the inhabitants generally
slaughtered, unless they could be induced to lay down their arms.
Montezuma, from one of the towers of the Spanish fortress, had
watched, with a throbbing heart and flooded eyes, the progress of the
fight as the flames swept through the streets, and destruction, like
a scythe, mowed down his subjects. The amiable, beloved, perplexed
sovereign was thus induced, though with much hesitation, to interpose.
He was adored by his people; but he believed that the Spaniards were
enthroned by the voice of destiny, and that resistance would but
involve the nation in a more bloody ruin.

Another morning dawned upon the combatants. In its earliest light the
battle was again renewed with increasing fury. No pen can describe
the tumult of this wild war. The yell of countless thousands of
assailants, the clang of their trumpets, gongs, and drums, the clash
of arms, the rattle of musketry, and the roar of artillery, presented
a scene which had never before found a parallel in the New World.

Suddenly all the tumult was hushed as the venerated emperor, dressed
in his imperial robes, appeared upon the walls, and waved his hand to
command the attention of his subjects. At the sight of their beloved
sovereign silence almost instantaneously prevailed, all bowed their
heads in reverence, and many prostrated themselves upon the ground.
Montezuma earnestly entreated them to cease from the conflict,
assuring them that the Spaniards would retire from the city if the
Mexicans would lay down their arms.

"The war will soon be over," a Mexican shouted from the crowd, "for we
have all sworn that not a Spaniard shall leave the city alive."

[Illustration: THE FALL OF MONTEZUMA.]

As Montezuma continued his urgency, pleading for the detested
Spaniards, the natives for a few moments longer continued to listen
patiently. But gradually a sullen murmur, like a rising breeze,
be