Roger at Bay

"Creep to the fire and gently throw some wood on it," whispered Roger in Tamba's ear, as soon as he was sure that the enemy were coming. "Be careful that they do not see you against the light. I will wait here till you rejoin me; and recollect, when they advance make no movement till I give the word, or, rather, till you hear me throw one of the bricks. I shall rely on those to defeat them."

The native went off into the darkness as if he were a ghost, and presently, as Roger looked, he saw that the flames were licking round the new fuel.

"The light will help us, while it will not show our figures," he said to himself with a feeling of satisfaction, for it happened that one of the corner towers threw a deep shadow where he was. "Our best defence will be to act in silence. Our bricks ought to account for a few, and after that I have a method which may check them. Ah! they are coming rapidly, and Tamba will have to hurry. He is a long while away."

A second or two later the native appeared at his side, or, rather, Roger knew he was there, for Tamba touched his arm. He had approached in absolute silence.

"They are on the last terrace below," he whispered in Roger's ear. "I heard them talking. The fire is built up, and will give a better light in a little while. I thought it would be well to look at the prisoners. They are asleep, master. We have no need to expect treachery from them."

"Then we shall be all the better able to defend this place. If we are rushed, we run to our new defence, while they will probably go to the chapel where the idol lies. Perhaps we might even descend during the darkness."

"We might, master; but there is a ring of sentries about us. I saw them as I watched. We are more secure up here than in any other place. Fortune has favoured us."

"Hist! They are nearer. Silence, and gather your bricks."

They leaned over the pile which they had accumulated close to the top of the steps, and filled an arm. Then, with one ready in their hands, and a sufficient space between them to give ample room for throwing, they waited. By now the fire had commenced to burn up a little, and the flames illuminated the top of the stairs feebly, showing the big jars of earth. Roger watched them, and heard whispering, for the Mexicans had also seen the obstruction. Then a man's head squeezed between two of them, while his body slowly wriggled its way through the narrow opening. A second appeared at another, while a third, a venturesome fellow, clambered round the outside margin of the one which stood on the very border of the steps. A slip of the hand, a toppling of the jar, would have sent him into space, with a fall of some hundreds of feet below him. Roger lifted his arm, aimed for the central man, and launched his brick. There was a dull thud, a shriek—more of fear than of pain—and the Mexican withdrew. Then Tamba attempted the same, and with equal fortune, his brick glancing from the man's back and clattering down the stairs. As yet not a sound other than the shriek had come from either of the combatants. But now a voice was heard. Some one gave a sharp order, and at once an attempt was made to repeat the process of wriggling through, while, on the side nearest to the centre of the tower, arms encircled the jar, and an effort was made to remove it. But Roger frustrated the attempt, a well-aimed brick crashing against one of the arms, and breaking it as if it had been a stick. Meanwhile Tamba had pelted the others, and had caused them to withdraw.

"They are talking again," whispered Roger, as he crouched in the darkness. "We will remain here till they attempt to remove the jars, and then we will use our swords. Make no noise, but cut at them with all your strength. If they become dangerous, wait for my shout, and then do what I order."

There was a lull for some few minutes, while the ever-brightening fire permitted the defenders to see that no one was at their obstruction. But down below an occasional dusky figure could be observed, while there was the dull sound of whispered conversation, and a click now and again as a club or sword struck the masonry. Suddenly there was silence again, and Roger nudged Tamba.

"A sure warning," he whispered. "Get your sword ready. But one second. Can they possibly reach us in any other way?"

"It is out of the question, master. The walls are steep and smooth, and there is no one to lower a rope. We have only the stairs to defend."

"Then I have little fear. If I were unarmed I could hold them, I think, unless they came prepared to cut us down. That would be different."

It would indeed have made a vast amount of difference, and would nearly certainly have led to capture or death. But these Mexicans had a blind faith in their war god and other deities, and groaned under a system of superstition which the priests took good care to keep alive. It would have been far easier, and far better for themselves, to fling themselves against these foreigners with their best arms, and cut them down by sheer advantage of numbers. But their superstition taught them that a sacrifice was needed, that prisoners should not be slain in battle, but merely taken with as little hurt as possible, so that they might be afterwards offered to their idols. And now that they had a huge and strange opponent to deal with, one who fought with his hands in a manner which none had ever seen, they still adhered to their practice, determining to take him alive. It gave Roger and his comrade an enormous advantage—an advantage which they needed, however, even though they held such a commanding position. For the Mexicans had the numbers. Life was of no consequence, and they were prepared to throw away many of their fighting men to attain their object. The insult to their deities lent added desperation to their attack, and when they advanced up the stairs again it was with the determination to conquer. They found on the upper side of the barrier a young giant filled with equal determination, prepared to seize his enemies, and, if he were surrounded and capture imminent, to drag them all by sheer force to the edge of the tower, and there hurl himself and his captors to the court below. Yes; let the reader imagine himself in a similar predicament, and he may realize to some small degree the desperate valour with which Roger was filled, and the reckless thoughts which flowed through his mind. "Anything is better than that hideous altar and the sacrifice," he told himself; and he prepared to act up to the thought.

But the Mexicans were advancing, and a shout rang out from the stairs below. It was answered from every quarter of the city, telling the defenders that thousands were waiting to learn the issue, and to praise their comrades if successful. There was movement on the towers all round, seen by the aid of the fires, while a murmur came from the courts below.

"Waiting for us," said Roger, grimly. "We will give them work to do before we are taken. Now, prepare."

The shuffle of feet was heard on the bricked steps, and soon a number of figures appeared behind the jars. But on this occasion there was no waiting. The Mexicans commenced to creep between them, while others were hoisted by their comrades and clambered over the top. They were met with a fusillade of bricks, which hardly deterred them. Then Roger and Tamba silently leapt forward from their dark nook behind the smaller tower, and fell on the enemy with the native swords. The sound of their blows could be easily heard at first, but in a minute the air was filled with shrieks and cries, while a hoarse roar came from the streets below. Three men fell in as many seconds to their blows, while Roger contrived to stun one of the enemy who was clambering over the obstacle, dropping him like a stone on the very top, where he hung amidst the flowers. But others followed, and soon it was clear that the rush would succeed.

"They are getting too strong for us," gasped Roger, during a short pause. "We will try once more, and then if not successful we will upset the jars. When I shout, place your foot against the one before you, and push with all your strength. It will topple over, and in the confusion we will rush down upon them. Fists will then be better than swords, and I shall make use of mine just as I did before."

He had hardly time for the words before the enemy came on again. Their shouts were deafening, while there was little doubt that their courage was increased by the clamour of their friends below. This time they swarmed over the huge vases of flowers, and threatened to overcome the two defenders before they could strike them down. The time for further action had arrived even sooner than Roger had anticipated, and with a shout he gave the order.

Cutting fiercely at the enemy, he made a path for himself, while his free arm clutched one of the men who was in the act of clambering over. Then his foot went up to the jar, and he threw all his weight downward. The thing toppled over, and then suddenly bounded down the steps, followed by the one which Tamba had taken in hand. But that was not sufficient. Roger moved to the third, and sent it flying. Then he threw his sword over his shoulders, and leapt down the steps. But there was no need for him to strike at a single Mexican, for fierce though these men were, and doughty fighters as they had proved themselves to be when opposed to the Spaniards, the sight of Roger brought fear to their minds, and his extraordinary methods of warfare astounded them. They were nonplussed and disheartened, and this last measure of defence cowed them. Indeed, fortune on this dark night had been on the side of those who held the steps, and the very vases aided them. Toppling over, they bounded down the steps, carrying some of the men with them. But the last struck against an edge, and fractured into pieces, the earth and the plants being shot out into the enemy. In an instant Roger picked up the larger pieces, and flung them after the Mexicans, while Tamba raced back for an armful of bricks, and hurled them down the steps. There was a series of loud bangs, a chorus of shrieks, and the Mexicans were gone, their flight being accelerated by the missiles which the two above poured upon their heads. Indeed, once they had reached the court below they raced to their houses, saying that the white man, the giant who had come amongst them, was a god in no way less than their own deities.

"That ends the trouble for to-night," said Roger, with a hearty laugh, for he was beginning to regain his assurance, and numbers no longer troubled him as they had done a few hours before. "We can sit down and rest, and, by the way, I think I am hungry."

"Then I will fetch food and water, master. Sit here till I return. I will go to our lodgings quietly, for it will be as well to see how our prisoners are behaving."

He was gone like a ghost again, for this native, accustomed from his childhood to hunting and life in the forest, and being barefooted, could pass from one spot to another without so much as a sound. Indeed, Roger had already learned much from him, for he had watched his methods in the forest, when he himself was too weak to do much more than stand or sit. Tamba had an eagle-like glance, an eye which detected everything and allowed nothing to pass. Even when creeping through the underwood in search of an enemy, he seemed to see the path at his knees as well as the forest ahead, and, as if intuitively, felt and removed the sticks and thorns in his way. It was an easy matter, therefore, for him to cross the tiled summit of the tower, and no one heard him, not even the prisoners, though the sound of the conflict had rendered them alert. Tamba crept to the new quarters which Roger had selected, and stared in cautiously. He found the noble diligently talking to the priest, and the latter nodding. As the native entered they both looked up, and it was plain from their innocent expressions that they had not been plotting.

"You have been successful again?" asked the noble. "Then I am glad," he added, as Tamba nodded; "for it is as well that my countrymen should learn soon that it is useless to fight with such a man. He bears a charmed life, and is truly a great lord, greater even than this Malinché (the native word for Cortes). Tell me, have many fallen, have many lost their lives?"

"None, I believe. We beat them back with swords and bricks. Many are hurt, but they will not die."

"I am glad," was the simple answer; "for then the people will be all the more ready to forgive, to forget the fighting, and accept this young lord as a friend. Did they but know the use that he will be to our arms, they would long ago have welcomed him with shouts of joy. But they thought him a Spaniard, just as I did, and the priest here also, and those we do not spare. Tell me how you met with this lord, and how it is that you are his servant."

Tamba hastened to tell the story, while he gathered food and took a bowl full of water.

"I will send my lord," he said, "and he will discuss this matter with you. He will be glad to talk."

A little later he appeared at Roger's side, and told him what had occurred.

"They are desirous of making peace," he said, beating his hands together to show his delight. "The priest thinks now that you are a mighty man, even as I do, my lord. Go to them. I said that you would come and talk this matter over. Perhaps when the morning comes our danger will have passed, and we shall become the friends of the Mexicans."

The news was excellent, almost too good to be true, and the relief to Roger was immense. He gulped down the food hastily, and emptied the bowl at a draught. Then he waited while Tamba went for a second supply, and having seen him posted at the head of the stairs, and given strict orders to him that he was to patrol round the terrace and watch every side, he slipped off to the little chamber in which the two Mexicans were seated, and pushed the curtain aside. Then he clambered over the forms which had been placed to barricade the door, and was in the act of seating himself when the noble and the priest rose to their feet. The latter had hunted out a tiny oil lamp, and this afforded sufficient light to show their features. Roger noticed with a thrill that the priest no longer scowled, and rubbed his elbows, as if to remind himself of his injuries. He made a deep obeisance, and spoke gravely.

"He says that you are a god, and that after this he will obey your wishes," said the noble. "He speaks the words which I also think. Surely you are a god, a different man from these others who have come here to hunt us for our gold, and to take us into captivity."

"Tell him that I thank him, and am glad that he is prepared to be friendly," said Roger, simply, motioning them to be seated, while he threw himself on a lounge on which the priest on duty was wont to rest. "Say, however, that I am no god; that there is but one God, the ruler of the whole earth."

The noble nodded and repeated the words, at which the priest looked pleased. Then they chatted together for a little while.

"It is as we thought," said the noble at length. "This Malinché has come to us with a new religion, and holds these gods of ours in scorn. He would do with them as he has done with those of another race close to the sea coast, and would force us to adopt his religion, even at the point of his lances. But we wait conviction, and we also have something of this religion; for listen, Roger." He pronounced the word in a strange accent, and looked our hero earnestly in the eyes. "We also know that there is one God, who cares for all, whoever they may be, but we also believe that there are others under Him. We worship them, and offer sacrifices to them because we can see their images. The idols are before us, while this other God is invisible. We do honour to Him through these images which we have put on the towers, and we also pay respect to the sun. Let these Spaniards prove that this is wrong, and we will listen to their arguments. But we will not be forced into a belief which we do not really feel. Let them show that these sacrifices are wrong."

"They are detestable!" said Roger, with decision, facing the two. "They are undoubtedly cruel and wrong, and some of you will live to believe that. But I cannot talk of these matters. I say that I am not a god, and that I am not a Spaniard. I came to these parts with comrades, at the bidding of a mighty king, and I hoped to obtain wealth. Yes, I admit that we hoped to gain gold and jewels, but not by force, except from the Spaniards. They opposed us from the first, and fought us. For that we are right, if we attack them in return. As for the land, it should be a fine thing for Mexico if Englishmen governed it."

"Perhaps it will come to that, Roger, but we will speak of yourself, though in spite of your words we believe that you are some powerful lord, a noble in your own land, if not a god, who has come to aid us at this critical time. When the morning comes we will speak to the people and to our king. We ask whether you will trust us to descend and meet our comrades?"

"You can go," said Roger, promptly, for they had already proved their intention to be faithful. "I will trust you, and will look for your return. I captured you so that you might remain in my hands as hostages."

"And we will return to you for that reason, my lord. We will set out when the sun has risen, and will come to you again before the day falls. And we will send food and water to you, and clothes to replace your own. Yes, it would be better that you should don our dress," he added, "for then there will be nothing to remind us of these hated enemies. Ah, you wonder why I speak the tongue, and I will tell you. Perhaps I have done my nation a service by doing so, however."

"It has proved my salvation," answered Roger, warmly. "But how did you learn? Tell me when you first met these Spaniards, and what has happened."

"Wait till the dawn comes, my lord," answered the noble; "then I will speak. You have need of sleep, and will do well to take it. To-morrow, if my words are received, you will go to the king, and he will show you honour. Then the people will shout and follow you to your quarters. Have no fear. You can sleep as if you were surrounded by friends."

Roger thanked him, and rose to rejoin Tamba. He found the latter softly patrolling the terrace, and listened to his report.

"Not a man to be seen except on the towers, where priests have replenished the fires. The city is quiet, and no one else is stirring."

"Then we will take turns to sleep," said Roger. "I am tired with the fight, and will lie down now. Wake me in two hours, and I will relieve you. After that it will be morning, and let us hope that it will dawn brightly for us."

He paced round the terrace, and then, satisfied that all was quiet, stretched himself on the tiles. He was an old campaigner now, for even a matter of three months roughing it makes a man accept hardships as trifles. Roger had slept in many strange places since he sailed from England, and a bed beneath the trees of the forest, or on the deck of the brigantine, or on these hard tiles, came as welcome to him as would a feather mattress at home. It was therefore only a few minutes before his heavy breathing told that he was asleep. Nor did he move till Tamba came to his side and shook him.

"The dawn is breaking clear and bright, my lord," he said. "It is time to rise and take a meal."

"But I meant to watch. I said that I would relieve you," exclaimed our hero, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "You were tired too. Why did you not rouse me earlier?"

"You had done all the fighting and were worn out, master," was the simple answer. "I am used to watching throughout the night, and the loss of sleep is nothing to me. You require your strength, and it is better that you should rest, better for yourself, for you are stronger to fight, and better also for me, because then you are able to protect me."

The argument silenced Roger, though he did not forget. But it was only another method by which the native showed his devotion. He was a faithful fellow, who lived to serve this humble crossbow youth, and he seemed to anticipate every want. Indeed, when Roger had risen from the tiles he found a meal of bananas and a bowl of water beside him, and in spite of the food he had taken during the night, fell upon it hungrily. Then he went to the edge of the terrace and stared out at the city of Mexico, tracing its boundaries and marking the viaducts which led to its heart, and the aqueducts which brought clear water to the townspeople, for the lake about the walls was salt and unfit for drinking purposes. We will leave him there for a little while, for this city was sufficiently beautiful in these days to attract the eye by the hour together. Indeed, it was a second Venice, rivalling that magnificent city by the water, and justly laying claim to being the finest and the most beautiful city the world could produce. Nor has a better ever been built since old Mexico disappeared.

Let us now return to the coast for a little while and see what fortune had befallen Fernando Cortes after he had sailed from Tabasco, bringing with him the native woman, Marina, for that was the name given to this slave when she was baptized by the Spaniards. The reader will remember that Cortes disembarked at a port to which he gave the name of St. Juan de Ulua, and that there he met with a friendly reception from the natives, and also received envoys from the great king Montezuma, ruler of the wide provinces over which the Mexicans held sway. He will recollect also that this king sent rich gifts, while forbidding the strangers to come nearer to his city, and that, for his own reasons, Cortes defied the order, and determined to go; for to have retired to Cuba would have meant his ruin, he already having disobeyed orders. Now he showed the firm material of which he was made, and also displayed no small amount of astuteness. For it happened that tales began to filter into the Spanish camp, telling of the huge armies of the Mexicans, and of their ferocity in warfare. These had their effect in time, and it is not to be wondered at that some of the soldiers under Cortes began to have fears. Not all had his reasons for not turning back. They could come again, and no punishment or disgrace awaited them in Cuba. And at length the camp became broken into two factions, one of which went with their leader, while the other clamoured for retreat.

Had Cortes declined to listen to these men it is possible that he would have made many enemies, and that more would have urged the retreat. But he shewed his astuteness by hearing what they had to say and agreeing to go if they so wished. He even prepared for the embarkation, while he secretly set his own faction to work to point out the gold and wealth to be obtained, and to hold before the soldiers the honours they would win. The plot proved successful, so that at length the malcontents approached him again and urged him to remain. It is needless to tell how he demurred as if he himself wished to leave, and how at length the crafty leader consented to march on, providing his actions were duly set down on paper for the information of those at home. He declared the conditions of the expedition altered, and had a new set of rules drawn up. Then, having shifted his base a little higher up the coast to a port to which was given the name of Vera Cruz, he stripped the ships of their canvas and cordage and of all that they possessed in the way of guns and stores, and had them destroyed. He burnt his boats behind him, made escape impossible, and left death or victory alone to stare his men in the face. Never was there a more reckless or a more astute action, reckless because of his paucity of numbers and the overwhelming armies of the enemy, and astute because there was now no turning back, there was no retreating; the only course was a forward one, in the direction of Mexico.

And now to tell briefly how it happened that circumstances played into the hands of the adventurer, Fernando Cortes. It has already been told how the Mexicans were accustomed to battle with their neighbours with the sole object of obtaining prisoners who would serve as a sacrifice to their hideous deities, and how these fierce fighters entered the struggle with the intention of killing as few as possible and of capturing many. Their opponents very naturally did all that was possible to slay the Mexicans and escape. They themselves were not so addicted to the human sacrifice as were the men of Mexico, and the fate of the prisoners naturally made them fight with ferocity. But Mexico was strong. She had for very many years had a triple alliance, and her two allies were the Tezcucans and the small kingdom of Tlacopan, all at that time situated in the valley in which the lakes lay. When first this alliance was formed none of the three states was at all strong, and there was another race which dominated them. But the three together, once they had settled their differences and made friends, became a very powerful force, so much so they soon conquered this other race, and subjected it entirely. That done, they went to war with all the other states in the valley—for this fertile spot was thickly populated—and subjected their enemies, when they began to go farther afield, so much so that Mexico claimed a kingdom stretching from Atlantic to Pacific. Her numerous vassal states paid her tribute in specie and in slaves, and human toll was taken of all to satisfy their morbid craving for sacrificing.

It was at this juncture, when the taxes imposed were becoming too burdensome, when the same melancholy was beginning to settle down upon these remoter states, that Fernando Cortes and his ridiculously small force arrived, and making friends with the Cempoalans, a coast tribe of large proportions, advised them to refuse their usual tribute. He set them an example by seizing Montezuma's collectors. That done he determined to check the abominable practice of human sacrifice, which the Cempoalans indulged in to a minor degree. He raided their temples and destroyed their divinities, and when they would have rushed to arms and attacked him, he seized their cacique and the chiefs, and threatened to kill them if there was trouble. That pacified them, for the Cempoalans were beginning to feel as much respect for this strong man who had so unexpectedly come amongst them as they had felt for centuries for their gods. They fell in with his wishes, whitewashed their temples, removed all trace of sacrifice, and set up crosses. Then their own priests took charge of the new temples. Finally, he received the nation of Cempoalans as vassals to the king of Spain, a king whose orders, given through his governor of Cuba, he himself had directly disregarded.

He was now in possession of allies, and set off for Mexico. His first march was to Tlascala, where he met with much opposition, and at one time had some hundred and fifty thousand adversaries confronting him. But his horses and the superior armour of his men, together with the supernatural power with which he and all from Spain were now accredited, aided him in defeating them, and in a little while he induced these people to become his allies.

His next march was to Cholula, far down in the valley, where he learned, by the help of Marina, that there was a plot afoot whereby twenty thousand Mexicans were to fall upon his troops in the streets. Cortes took means to punish the people summarily, and no sooner had he made his preparations, than he and his men attacked the Cholulans, and massacred very many. It was a cruel and a severe lesson, and it helped to bring home to all the valley the fact that a troublesome time was come, and that the strangers were likely to prove strong. Indeed, Fernando Cortes behaved as if he had an army of many thousands, and as if he were aware that none could stay his march. His astuteness had gained for him huge numbers of allies, but these were still insufficient to quell the nation of Mexicans, who would be joined by their allies. However, the Spaniard did not falter. He had declared that he would march to Mexico, and see this Montezuma and his riches, and march he did, right to the city, passing through many towns of larger dimensions than any to be seen in Spain, and seeing buildings and streets, the like of which he and his men had never even imagined. Then, too, on every side there were signs of industry going hand-in-hand with this hideous sacrifice of human beings. Every foot of earth was carefully tilled, houses were well and securely built, and the tribes were governed in the most orderly manner. They had their priests, their judges, and their officers of the crown. Then, too, they had their historians, for though the Mexicans knew no alphabet, they put down their meaning by signs and pictures, and there was a college for the training of picture writers, an art now entirely lost. In fact, Cortes had arrived in a country where dwelt a marvellous people, infinitely more civilized than he could have expected, and particularly when compared with the natives of Cuba and adjacent isles. And these tribes had beautiful cities, excellent houses, an almost perfect administration, and a system of labour which provided work for all. There were no beggars, and all lived and fared well. In fact, luxuries were common throughout the land ruled over by Montezuma, while it is reported of that monarch that he dined off fresh fish, received within twenty-four hours of the catching, from a port two hundred miles away. It may be wondered how such a thing was possible, when no animal of any description was used for work. But the system of runners or couriers before alluded to made the matter possible, and helped to prove to Cortes that these Mexicans were indeed a wonderful nation.

The Spaniards entered Mexico peacefully, and were received by Montezuma and by his people with awe, for now another circumstance came to help them. It happened that among the superstitions of the race was one concerning the god of air, called Quetzalcoatl, who was supposed to be chiefly instrumental in teaching the arts of metal-working, the methods of good government, and many other matters which aided in keeping the state successful and prosperous. This god had disappeared; it was said he had gone to the coast, to the Gulf of Mexico, and had there taken his place in a skiff made of serpents' skins. He had sailed away, promising to return with his descendants. Report said of him that he was tall, had a white skin and a flowing beard, with long hair over his shoulders. What wonder if this superstitious nation took Fernando for the god of air, and received him with joy! He had shown his superiority by disobeying the orders of Montezuma, a fact sufficient to declare him a superior being. He was white, and if not tall, he was moderately so. The description fitted the Spanish leader sufficiently well, while Mexican superstition and the chatter of the priests did the rest. Fernando was received with joy. Thousands of richly-dressed nobles crossed the viaduct to meet him, while Montezuma even came some way to do him honour. Quarters were assigned to the force, while their allies remained within call outside the city. Cortes had accomplished his desire; he had come to Mexico, and we shall learn in due course how his boldness was rewarded.

News of Fernando Cortes

Roger de Luce sat on the terrace of the great temple, where dwelt the fierce and remorseless god of war, and looked down upon Mexico, the delightful city nestling on the bosom of the lake. From his elevated perch he could command every cranny, see the outline of the enormous square dedicated to the priests, the huge palace in which the king lived, and the market. Then he followed the orderly streets, noticing that some had broad pavements, while some were composed of canals communicating with the lake, while yet others had pathway and canal, allowing the foot passengers to chat with those in the skiffs. Thousands of the latter were about, plying amongst the houses or on the lake. From the roof-tops came the smoke of many a fire, mingling with that from the altars. And the gardens were a delight. They stretched on every roof, scarlet, and pink, and mauve, and the finest green. They floated on the water of the lake—actually floated—for the Mexicans loved their flowers, and made up for lack of space by tying withies together, and covering them with reeds and earth. These were anchored in the lake, and arranged as gardens.

Roger could even catch the sparkle of the water as it flowed through the aqueducts on its way from the country outside, and was marvelling at the ingenuity displayed in bringing it to the city in this manner, when some one touched his shoulder, and he turned to find the priest and the noble. Both bowed low, as before, casting their eyes down as he looked at them.

"We ask you to fulfil your promise," said the latter. "It is time that some one went to the people, and we propose that the priest should first descend. Later on, when he has returned to this spot, I will go to the king, and he will come to do you honour. He, too, will see his mistake. We shall all be glad to admit that we have placed this Malinché in the wrong position. That he is no god of air as we thought. We shall rejoice that you have come at such a time to help us."

He bowed again, while the priest followed his action with the utmost humility. Roger stamped his foot and flushed with vexation.

"It is hard luck that I should be treated with more bobs and curtsies than King Harry at home," he said in English. "No matter how often I repeat it, these fellows will take me for one of their gods. I suppose it is the result of being so tall."

It was undoubtedly partly due to that, for Roger overtopped any one in Mexico. But Nature had given him a pleasant appearance and much courage, all of which played upon the imagination of the people. Then none had ever seen such a combat as had taken place on the previous evening. It seemed incredible that one so young could oppose so many. The success of the defence and the novel methods employed had convinced the Mexican priest that Roger was the god of air, the very one who was supposed to have returned in the person of Fernando Cortes. And the supposition explained why Roger was an enemy of the Spaniards. The latter had proved cruel and grasping, and had long ago shown that they were impostors, and had nothing to do with the god of air. Then this Roger must be he; and the priest prepared to descend and tell the people.

"They will believe me," he said to the noble. "There can be no doubt. This youth has no fear. When danger comes he stands to his full height, and watches. None could drag him to the ground, while at the touch of his hand men fell with a crash. We must show our friendship, for there is now no mistake. Have I his permission to go?"

"He will trust you. You will return when you have spoken, and then I will go to the palace. Have you anything to say before you leave?"

"Nothing, save that I crave the pardon of this gallant youth."

The priest evidently meant every word. He had been brought up in the precincts of the temple, and superstition was engrafted in his mind. It was, therefore, only natural that he should think of Roger as he did, and ask for his pardon. The noble repeated the words and the request.

"Tell him there is nothing to forgive on my side, but that I am sorry if I hurt him. Ask him how he feels, and whether I did much damage."

"He is well," was the answer. "He has no pain, and was well punished. He may go."

The priest gathered his black garments about him and hobbled to the steps, for despite his assertion to the contrary he still felt the effects of the toss which our young giant had given him. Then he disappeared from sight, to be seen again as he gradually circled the tower in his descent.

"Men are coming to meet him, and they are shamefaced," said the noble, looking over the edge. "There will be sorrow in Mexico when the full tale is learned, and afterwards there will be rejoicing. Will my lord eat? I will stand beside him, and any question that he may care to ask I will answer."

Roger had already satisfied his appetite, but his hunger for news was far from appeased, and for long he kept the noble beside him, telling him the names of the streets and of the town at various parts of the lakes. Then he suddenly turned and reminded him of his promise of the previous evening.

"Where are these Spaniards?" he asked. "You have said that they came to Mexico. Then where are they now, for I see no sign of them in the city."

"You can see traces of their going, my lord. Look there, and there also."

The noble took Roger's arm and attracted his attention to the causeway.

"Watch the line of the masonry and trace it to the bank from the heart of the city," he said. "Can you not see that it is broken, and that men are now labouring to repair the injury? That is where the fight took place. Yes, my lord, we showed them at length that we could fight, and we drove them out. Many lie beneath the water, or are covered by the fallen bricks, while their allies were slain in thousands."

"Then there has been a battle?" exclaimed Roger, in astonishment, for he had had no information. "And you have defeated the Spaniards?"

"Defeated them and driven them beyond the valley. We took them for gods at first. Their boldness amazed us, and the late king Montezuma had faith in them. He was too good and too kind, and these men preyed upon him. They induced him to swear vassalage to their own king, and afterwards took him to the quarters which he had had prepared for them, saying that they would hold him as hostage. And we lived close at hand and did not move."

The announcement almost took our hero's breath away. It seemed incredible that four or five hundred strangers with their native allies could dare to do such a thing. And yet it had actually occurred. This Fernando Cortes had already showed both boldness and astuteness, and when in Mexico he displayed both qualities. He took advantage of Mexican superstition, to which the whole nation were abject slaves, and he actually persuaded Montezuma, a king who was feared by millions of subjects and vassals, to declare himself a vassal of a king whom he had never seen, and to come to the Spanish quarters as a hostage for the safety of the Spaniards, or on some such feeble excuse. Such boldness was almost ludicrous; it was impudence. But we have to remember the circumstances, and that a Western nation were here treating with a people who had never heard of Europe, and to whom their own religion was of supreme importance.

"Yes," continued the noble bitterly, "we lived at hand and did not stir; we made no effort to bring him back. But let me give you my name. I am Teotlili, and was selected at the first to act as envoy to these strangers. I went to the coast at the order of Montezuma to meet these men, and from my intercourse with them, and my conversation with Marina, their woman slave, I learned to speak the language. For they remained on the coast for a long time, founding their town of Vera Cruz. It was there that I took them a number of presents, amongst them the image of the sun, which was composed of pure gold."

Roger pricked up his ears. "Had it a sketch of this city on one side and the sun on the other?" he demanded.

"You know it—you have heard the tale then?" exclaimed Teotlili, in astonishment. "How is that, then? I thought that the matter was almost a secret. But then I am forgetting. It is only to be expected that you should have heard."

Roger was mystified. "Heard what?" he demanded hotly. "I know about the disc of course, for it brought me and my friends out to this part; and I have seen the sketch of the city. It seems exact."

"You have seen it. Then where?" demanded the noble, showing unusual excitement. "Tell me, my lord, where was it that you saw the disc?"

"In England first of all, and recently within fifty miles, or perhaps a little more, of Mexico. It was sent home to Spain by Fernando Cortes, this Malinché, as you call him, and some men of another nation, captured the ship, and were in turn captured by our sailors. The disc came into possession of one of the sailors who came here with us, and it was the sight of it, and the news of discoveries, and of gold in these parts, that brought about the formation of our expedition and our sailing here. I told you that I was no god. I am a simple crossbow man, and can fight if driven to it. Like the Spaniards, we desire riches; but we shall not take them from you in such a manner. We do not desire to destroy your city, though if you care to form an alliance with our king you can do so. Our main purpose out here is to obtain gold and jewels, to return home with a rich harvest."

"Could you give anything in return? Could you get comrades to aid us, or give us your own help? My lord, we need a leader—a cacique. We are not skilled in the class of fighting practised by these Spaniards. Their horses overcome us, and their lances kill before we can get to close quarters. Then who can sever the tough material of which their clothing is made? It is of some metal which breaks our swords, and turns aside every blow!"

For a little while the noble looked closely at Roger, and it was obvious that he was thinking. Then he began to speak again, earnestly, and in low tones, so that Tamba could not hear.

"Would you fight for us?" he asked. "As I have said, we need a leader who knows these Spanish methods, and we are prepared to give a handsome reward to any one who can help us, and who will accept the post of cacique or chief. You can fight. Have you not proved it to us? Have you not faced us all boldly, and beaten us too? Then will you help, and in return you shall have a prize which will amply repay? Yes, if successful, enough gold and jewels shall be given to you to make you and your friends rich for life, and to require a hundred men to carry to the coast; while if the Spaniards get the better of us and drive us from this fair city, our stores of gold will be useless to us, and you can have all that there is. But you must produce the disc of gold. For listen——"

He moistened his lips, while Roger sat forward, staring at him in amazement, while the thought and the mention of riches led him to wonder how his friends were faring, and whether it would not be possible to bring them to Mexico. Failing that, he would endeavour to earn this reward, and take back to the brigantine a sufficient sum to make the voyage a success, and to satisfy all parties concerned with its preparation. Suddenly the noble interrupted him as he was puzzling about the disc, and wondering what it could have to do with the treasure.

"You must produce this disc," he said quietly, lifting a finger to impress his words. "But to tell you why, I must relate more of these adventurers who came to us, domineered here, and captured our king—the wise and gentle Montezuma. They asked for gold, and were given an enormous pile, amounting to a fortune in their own country, so Marina has told me. But they demanded more, and we had none to give; for listen again, my lord, this disc commands the key to the treasury. We have little or no need of gold or jewels in this country, and we prize them most as ornaments. They do not pass as money, as with these Spaniards, for our currency is composed of maize and cocoa-beans. For very many years different races have lived in this beautiful valley, and they have gathered gold, some from the valley alone, while many have collected it from the states in the province which we now control. Thus, for seven hundred years, as you people speak of time, and even perhaps for longer, the treasure has been increasing. We who are Aztecs found it here when we came two hundred years ago, and we have gathered a hoard in that time. Of our store we set aside enough for all needs, and the remainder was secreted by the priests, for the day may come when Mexico may need more. Our customs may change, and it might happen that gold would take the place of the cocoa-bean. The fact remains that the priests stored away a huge treasure, and that they alone knew of its whereabouts. So that none should tamper with the hoard, the priest to whom it was handed, and who died more than a hundred years ago, caused a plan to be made in gold, so that those who followed might know of the spot. The plan was engraved on a disc, on which was also an image of the sun, such as our metal-workers are in the habit of making, and the disc was handed down from one priest to another. Now listen carefully to the end of this tale. In his generosity of heart Montezuma sent rich presents with me to the coast, so as to pacify these marauders, though instead the gold attracted them. The priests prepared the gifts, and arranged for the bearers, for their duties in the city are many. Somehow, I know not in what manner, this very disc was included, and handed by me to Malinché. You say that that disc was captured twice, and that it returned here to the country. Surely that is a marvellous happening! And if your friends possess it you will be able to recover it from them. Then the priest who has the secret, and can read the picture, will tell where the treasure is, and you will be given the reward. All seems to work favourably for our ends."

"But the disc is not in our possession," exclaimed Roger, aghast at the calamity which had happened to him when it had been stolen by Alvarez. "We picked up a Spaniard on the way out, and he stole it from me. Look, here is the treacherous wound he dealt me."

He bared his shoulder and showed the scar where the dagger had entered.

"We treated him as a friend and a comrade," he said bitterly, "and he repaid us in this manner. He has the disc now, and for aught I know is with his comrades. This Malinché, as you call him, must have heard of the disc and its secret, and he offered a reward. This fellow will have sought it already."

"If he has not kept the disc and the fact that he has it from his comrades, my lord," said Teotlili. "He might have done that. These Spaniards live for gold, as I can swear, for I saw many here die for it. They sacrificed their lives by carrying a weight of it when, had they been free of the burden, they might have lived. This man—a crafty and unscrupulous cheat, I should esteem him—will think not of the reward for the disc, but of the riches which the secret may bring him. He will hide it, and when the Spaniards come here again, as they will, I am assured, he will endeavour to worm out the secret, and discover the treasure. Then, as the first-comer, he will have the choice, and since jewels are more valuable than gold, and lighter to bear, he might within an hour secure more wealth than all these comrades of his put together. He must be captured, my lord. Upon his death and the return of the disc depends your reward."

"Then I will take him," answered Roger, quietly, after a few moments' silence. "I have sworn to punish him for the treacherous blow he dealt me, and now that I hear of the importance of the disc, I will redouble my efforts; for I do not desire this reward so much for myself as for the ship's company, and for those who sent us out. It is only right that we should do all that is possible to repay them, and any wealth that we may obtain will be divided. But, in any case, until I can return to my comrades I shall help you to prepare for the Spaniards. Let all this excitement die down, and an assurance be given me that no attempt will be made to sacrifice me, or Tamba, and I will help. I would wish also that your people would promise never to kill one human being for the sake of those hideous idols."

The noble looked pained for a few seconds, while he stared out at the city.

"We have been brought up from childhood to this belief," he said sadly, "and we cannot break ourselves of it all in a moment. If it is wrong, and we are shown so clearly, then as sensible beings we shall change, and for myself I shall be glad. For there is constant bloodshed here. The altar reeks of it, and we never know when our dearest and best will be summoned. But we will not be driven. These Spaniards have done with us what no others would have dared to attempt. They took Montezuma as a hostage, while we knew him only as a powerful king, swaying the people from here for many miles, till the sea is reached on either hand. We dared not look into his face, but always turned our eyes to the wall. And these barbarians came and took him. Then they gathered the gold, and, having our chief and head, ruled us. They cast our idols down from the towers, and ordered that there should be no more sacrifice. Then this Malinché went to the coast; for it happened that eighteen ships arrived, bearing a second expedition. While he was gone, his lieutenant attacked us treacherously, and we drove him and his followers into their quarters. Then Malinché returned, and we continued to fight, till our unhappy king fell at the discharge of our arrows. We slew many of the Spaniards and their allies, and we never left them at peace for a moment. Our arrows flew over their quarters day and night, while our labourers broke down the viaducts so that none could come or go, and no food or water reach the garrison. Look, my lord, there, where the men are now at work, is the spot where the viaduct was cut."

He pointed to a spot to which he had previously drawn Roger's attention, while the latter noticed that not only was this viaduct under repair, but that others also had been damaged. In fact, Cortes had barely returned in time. His call to the coast had been an urgent one, for the reader must remember that he was already in danger himself from the party in authority at Cuba. He was to all intents and purposes a political offender awaiting arrest, and this expedition had come to take the command from him, and to snatch the fruits of his hard work and daring. That was hardly suitable, and Cortes having first sent secret gifts to the soldiers, fell upon the troops in the darkness of night, captured their cannon, and those who were his opponents. At that the remainder went over to his side, and agreed to follow him as leader. Then he returned to Mexico to find the natives risen and his troops surrounded.

"We fought so fiercely, and hemmed them in so closely, that they were like to starve or die of thirst," continued Teotlili. "They were outnumbered by many thousands, and at length they stole away in the darkness, carrying their treasure with them. That was our opportunity. Our soldiers crowded the viaduct, and our men were everywhere on the lake in their boats. We clutched them and dragged them beneath the water. Some we upset, and the weight of gold dragged them down, while others lost their lives at the spot where we had broken the bridges or the masonry. We read them a lesson, and sent them out of our valley discomfited, and punished in some measure for the wrong they had done us. But these reinforcements have come to Cortes, who survived the retreat, and our spies tell us that he is about to renew the attack."

"At once?" demanded Roger, eagerly; "for if so, you must put thousands to work instead of the few I see below."

"Hardly so soon," was the answer; "for news reaches our ears that this Malinché will attack by way of the lake also. Hitherto his men have had to remain on the land, on the viaducts, while we have showered arrows upon them from the water, for we have an abundance of canoes. But he is having some big ships built—brigantines, they are called—and these are to be transported by the allies to the water, for they are under construction some distance away."

The information was serious, and for a little while Roger sat looking down at the smiling city, wondering how its defenders would fare when the Spaniards returned. He recognized already that these unfortunate Mexicans, who were so engrossed with their superstitions, were for all that a race of fierce fighters, to whom death was of little moment; for to die in battle or upon the altars was to be instantly transferred to the regions of the sun, to a Valhalla which was more than alluring. But they were badly led. Their attack was spasmodic, and often the work of a few men alone, when for success it was necessary that assault should be followed up, and forces combined. Against such fighting the Spaniards were bound to triumph.

"The ships will give them an enormous advantage," said Roger, at length, "and I advise that means be taken as soon as possible to prepare for them, and to stake the bottom of the lake so as to keep them from approaching. As to the land work, your thousands should be powerful enough."

"They should be, but are not, I fear," answered Teotlili; "for the horses strike dismay into the hearts of our men. The beasts are strange to them, and their struggles, the noise of their feet, and the sounds which they make startle our warriors."

"Then they must get over their nervousness. These horses are seen everywhere in England, and have long ago been servants to men, not their masters. You and your countrymen must rid your minds of all these superstitions, and recollect that these Spaniards are men like yourselves, though better armed, mounted in many cases, and trained to a form of warfare which is new to you. But I will teach you how to deal with them. I had a training under my father at the Tower of London, the fortress in our city, and there I saw many a sham attack and many a gallant defence. We will put our heads together, I and your king and some others, and we will commence to make preparations at once, for we must be ready when the day for action comes. Now tell me the allies upon whom you can rely, and their numbers, and the positions of their towns."

The two sat chatting on the terrace which encircled the summit of the tower, looking down as they talked into the busy streets, where the daily work of the city was progressing. The events of the previous day seemed to have made little if any difference, for the market was already thronged with buyers, while in the alcoves built round the vast square sat the king's officers, ready to settle any disputes, and prepared to pounce upon any who might make use of false weights. And round the square hummed the people of the city, thousands wafted along in boats, while a few were to be seen in the streets and on the viaducts. Farther afield the workers in the gardens could be seen tramping along the edges of the floating rafts of withies which bore the fruits of their cultivation, while outside were many canoes, some drifting idly, while others manned by five or six men were paddling off into the lake at their fastest pace. In the distance, backed by gorgeous mountains in broken array, were other cities, all well built, well governed, and inhabited by people who, till the coming of the enemy, had been happy and contented, if overcast by the shadow of the terrible altars. But times had changed, and now nations once friendly with the Mexicans were allies of the Spaniards, and therefore enemies of the Mexicans, while others who had groaned under Montezuma's tributes, and had thrown off his sway for the rule of the new-comers, had changed again, finding already that the rule of the Mexicans was light compared with the rapacious greed and the overbearing manners of the Spaniards. And beyond the mountains lay Vera Cruz, the town founded by Cortes, where he was making his preparations, and getting his men together.

Teotlili, the noble who sat beside Roger, had spoken barely the truth when he told how the Mexicans had turned in their anger, and had driven the Spaniards out with loss; for when Cortes came to review his men after their escape from Mexico, he found that he had lost four hundred and fifty of his own men, and all his artillery. In addition, he had to mourn the death of some of his principal lieutenants, and of one son and two daughters of the late King Montezuma, who also were held as hostages. Four thousand of the Indian allies had been slain as well as forty-six horses, while in the days which followed numbers of others lost their lives; for the Mexicans hung on their flanks, till it is said that the plain was black with them. But Cortes was not the man even then to admit that he was beaten, and he and his men fought on, till at length he charged home with a few of his officers to the spot where the Mexican general directed his army, and himself cut the noble down. Then the enemy fled, and in due course Cortes and his remnant of men reached friends. After that, as the reader will remember, he set to work to construct some brigantines, and while they were building he went through the province of Mexico, despoiling those cities which would not ally themselves to him, and making friends elsewhere. Thus in a few months he had gained huge treasures and larger reinforcements. Meanwhile the Mexicans had set up their gods again, and seeing that trouble was before them, had made big efforts to secure allies to their own side. They sent into the provinces and granted freedom from taxation for a year, provided the cities would come to their aid. Then they turned their attention to their own city, and began to prepare for attack. It was at this moment, when they were incensed with the Spaniards, that Roger arrived, and, as can readily be imagined, it was at this particular period that they were in urgent need of advice and of help in their work of preparation. What wonder if, in the arrival of this tall youth, who fought so valiantly and resisted their efforts to slay him on the altar, the Mexicans, led by their priests and by Teotlili, discovered in Roger their long-lost god of air, and now that they had made the discovery, looked to him for guidance, and for a plan with which to beat back the enemy.

As for our hero, the thought of the struggle which could not be much longer delayed occupied his mind less than did that of his comrades.

"If only they were here," he said to himself. "Then we would beat back these Spaniards, and drive them from the country. What a fine thing to return to England with the tale that there was a people out here ready to be vassals to King Harry—people whom we had conquered by kindness! And we could truly say that they are not ordinary natives, for they are as civilized as are our own people, except in their hideous forms of worship. Even that we could alter in time and with the use of patience."

He sat looking out at the streets for a little while, till Teotlili turned to him.

"My lord is lost in thought," he said. "He looks troubled."

"I was thinking of my comrades," answered Roger, "and wondering whether I could bring them here. I will try, that I promise, even for no reward. But if possible I will find this Alvarez who has the disc, and will bring that back also. How strange it is that it should have been in my possession, and that I should have so soon learned its history! We knew that it was connected in some way with the treasure here, but never guessed that it had come to Fernando Cortes' hands by a mischance. And now, supposing he has received it from Alvarez, or the latter, who is a traitor and deserving of death, has kept its possession to himself?"

"There will be nothing gained," was the answer, "for to make use of it our high priest must be consulted. He alone can read the secret written on the plan, for he has the special training. He then can learn where the treasure lies, and I promise that he will show it to you."

"And I will have it taken to another spot, for it might happen that this Alvarez might capture the priest and force him to disclose the place."

"A wise precaution," said Teotlili. "Capture the disc and it shall be carried out. But I see a stir in the streets below, and I think that the king is coming from his palace. I will descend and meet them if you will give your permission."