The Fair God; or, The Last of the 'Tzins

And they did the bidding cheerfully. All night the good father was engaged in holy work, confessing, shrieving, praying. So the morning found them.

CHAPTER XI

THE CHRISTIAN TAKES CARE OF HIS OWN

Hualpa returned to the city about the time the stars, which in that clime and season herald the morning, take their places in the sky. He had lightened his heart, and received the sympathy of a lover in return; he had told the great things done and promised by the king, and sorrowed that his friend could take no part in the events which, he imagined, were to make the day heroic forever; and now, his enthusiasm of youth sobered by the plaints to which he had listened while traversing the dusky walks of the beautiful garden, he clomb the stairs of the teocallis. Before the day was fairly dawned, he was at his post, waiting, dreaming of Nenetzin, and hearkening to the spirit-songs of ambition, always so charming to unpractised souls.

And the lord Cuitlahua perfected his measures. On all the dikes, and at the entrance of all the canals, guards were stationed. The bridges nearest the palace occupied by the strangers were held by chosen detachments. Except those thus detailed, the entire military in the city were pent in the temples. And to all, including the lord steward, the proper orders were confided. All awaited the signal.

And the king, early in the night, ignorant of the flight of Nenetzin, had come from Chapultepec to his palace in the capital. He retired as he was wont, and slept the sleep as restful to a mind long distracted by irresolution as to a body exhausted by labor; such slumber as comes to him who, in time of doubt, involving all dearest interests, at last discovers what his duty is, and, fully determined, simply awaits the hour of performance, trustful of the action taken, and of the good-will of the god or gods of his faith.

On the side of the Christians, the preparation, more simple, was also complete. From mass the little host went to breakfast, then to arms. The companies formed; even the Tlascalans behaved as if impressed with a sense that their fate had been challenged.

To the captains, again convoked in the audience-chamber, Cortes detailed his plan of operation. His salutation of each was grave and calm. Though very watchful, they heard him without question; and when they went out, they might have said, The hour of trial is come, and now will be seen which holds the conquering destiny,—the God of the Christian or that of the Aztec.

From the council, Alvarado went first to Marina; finding that Nenetzin slept, he joined his companions in the great court, where, gay and careless, he carolled a song, and twirled his sword, and, in thought of smiling fortune and a princely Indian love, walked complacently to and fro. And so wait, ready for action, the Christian lover and the heathen,—one in the palace, the other in the temple,—both, in fancy, lord of the same sweet mistress.

At the stated hour, as had been the custom, the three lords came, in splendid costume, and with stately ceremonial, bringing the king’s compliments, and asking Cortes will for the day. And they returned with compliments equally courteous and deceptive, taking with them Orteguilla, the page, instructed to inform the monarch that directly, if such were the royal pleasure, Malinche would be happy to visit him in his palace.

A little later there went out parties of soldiers, apparently to view the city; yet the point was noticeable that, besides being fully armed, each was in charge of a chosen subordinate. Later, the army was drawn up, massed in the garden; the matches of the gunners were lighted; the horsemen stood at their bridles; the Tlascalans were stationed to defend the outer walls. De Oli, Morla, Marin, and Monjarez passed through the lines in careful inspection.

“Heard’st thou when the drum was to be sounded?” asked De Oli, looking to the sun.

“At noon,” answered Marin.

“Three hours yet, as I judge. Short time, by Our Lady!”

The party was impatient. To their relief, Cortes at last came out, with his five chosen cavaliers, Sandoval, Alvarado, Leon, Avila, and Lugo. As he proceeded to the gate, all eyes turned to him, all hearts became confident,—so much of power over the weak is there in the look of one master spirit.

At the gate he waited for the Doña Marina.

“Are ye ready, gentlemen?”

“All ready,” they replied.

“With thee, De Oli, I leave the command. At sight or sound of attack or combat, come quickly. Charge straight to the palace, lances in the lead. Bring our horses. Farewell. Christ and the Mother for us!” And with that, Cortes stepped into the street.

For a time the party proceeded silently.

“Is not this what the pagans call the beautiful street?” Sandoval asked.

“Why the question?”

“I have gone through graveyards not more deserted.”

“Thou’rt right,” said Lugo. “By Our Lady! when last we went this way, I remember the pavements, doors, porticos, and roofs were crowded. Now, not a woman or a child.”

“In faith, Señor, we are a show suddenly become stale.”

“Be it so,” replied Leon, sneeringly. “We will give the public a new trick.”

“Mirad, Señores!” said Cortes. “Last night, all through this district, particularly along this street, there went patrols, removing the inhabitants, and making ready for what the drum is advertised to let loose upon us. Don Pedro, thy princess hath told the truth.” And looking back to the towers of the teocallis, he added, after a fit of laughter, “The fools, the swine! They have undone themselves; or, rather,”—his face became grave on the instant,—“the Holy Mother hath undone them for us. Give thanks, gentlemen, our emprise is already won! Yonder the infidel general hath his army in waiting for the word of the king. Keep we that unspoken or undelivered,—only that,—and the way of our return, prisoner in hand, will be as clear of armed men as the going is.”

The customary guard of nobles kept the portal of the palace; the antechamber, however, was crowded to its full capacity with unarmed courtiers, through whom the Christians passed with grave assurance. To acquaintances Cortes bowed courteously. Close by the door of the audience-chamber, he found Orteguilla conversing with Maxtla, who, at sight of him, knelt, and, touching the floor with his palm, offered to conduct the party to the royal presence; such were his orders. Cortes stopped an instant.

“Hath the king company?” he asked Orteguilla.

“None of account,—a boy and three or four old men.”

“He is ours. Let us on, gentlemen!”

And forthwith they passed under the curtains held aside for them by Maxtla.

On a dais covered with a carpet of plumaje, the monarch sat. Three venerable men stood behind him. At his feet, a little to the right, was the prince Io’, in uniform. A flood of light poured through a window on the northern side of the chamber, and fell full on the group, bringing out with intense clearness the rich habiliments of the monarch, and every feature of his face. The Christians numbered the attendance, and, trained to measure dangers and discover advantages by a glance, smiled at the confidence of the treacherous heathen. Upon the stillness, broken only by their ringing tread, sped the voice of Cortes.

“Alvarado, Lugo, all of ye, watch well whom we have here. On your lives, see that the boy escape not.”

Montezuma kept his seat.

“The gods keep you this pleasant morning,” he said. “I am glad to see you.”

They bowed to him, and Cortes replied,—

“We thank thee, good king. May the Holy Virgin, of our Christian faith, have thee in care. Thus pray we, than whom thou hast no truer servants.”

“If you prefer to sit, I will have seats brought.”

“We thank thee again. In the presence of our master, it is the custom to stand, and he would hold us discourteous if we did otherwise before a sovereign friend as dear to him as thou art, great king.”

The monarch waved his hand.

“Your master is no doubt a rare and excellent sovereign,” he said, then changed the subject. “The lords, whom I sent to you this morning, reported that all goes well with you in the palace. I hope so. If anything is wanted, you have only to speak. My provinces are at your service.”

“The lords reported truly.”

“I am very glad. Thinking of you, Malinche, and studying to make your contentment perfect, I have wondered if you have any amusements or games with which to pass the time.”

As there were not in all the New World, however it might be in the Old, more desperate gamblers than the cavaliers, they looked at each other when the translation was concluded, and smiled at the simplicity of the speaker. Nevertheless, Cortes replied with becoming gravity,—

“We have our pastimes, good king, as all must have; for without them, nature hath ordered that the body shall grow old and the mind incapable. Our pastimes, however, relate almost entirely to war.”

“That is labor, Malinche.”

“So is hunting,” said Cortes, smiling.

“My practice is not,” answered the monarch, taking the remark as an allusion to his own love of the sport, and laughing. “The lords drive the game to me, and my pleasure is in exercising the skill required to take it. Some day you must go with me to my preserves over the lake, and I will show you my modes; but I did not mean that kind of amusement. I will explain my meaning. Io’,” he said to the prince, who had arisen, “bid Maxtla bring hither the silver balls. I will teach Malinche to play totoloque.”

“Have a care, gentlemen!” said Cortes, divining the speech from the action of the speaker. “The lad must stay. And thou, Marina, tell him so.”