‘Say, Teule,’ gasped the emperor, ’do I not well to be afraid when such portents as these meet my eyes day by day?  Hearken to the lamentations in the city; we have not seen this sight alone.  Listen how the people cry aloud with fear and the priests beat their drums to avert the omen.  Weep on, ye people, and ye priests pray and do sacrifice; it is very fitting, for the day of your doom is upon you.  O Tenoctitlan, queen of cities, I see you ruined and desolate, your palaces blackened with fire, your temples desecrated, your pleasant gardens a wilderness.  I see your highborn women the wantons of stranger lords, and your princes their servants; the canals run red with the blood of your children, your gateways are blocked with their bones.  Death is about you everywhere, dishonour is your daily bread, desolation is your portion.  Farewell to you, queen of the cities, cradle of my forefathers in which I was nursed!’

Thus Montezuma lamented in the darkness, and as he cried aloud the great moon rose over the edge of the world and poured its level light through the boughs of the cedars clothed in their ghostly robe of moss.  It struck upon Montezuma’s tall shape, on his distraught countenance and thin hands as he waved them to and fro in his prophetic agony, on my glittering garments, and the terror-stricken band of courtiers, and the musicians who had ceased from their music.  A little wind sprang up also, moaning sadly in the mighty trees above and against the rocks of Chapoltepec.  Never did I witness a scene more strange or more pregnant with mystery and the promise of unborn horror, than that of this great monarch mourning over the downfall of his race and power.  As yet no misfortune had befallen the one or the other, and still he knew that both were doomed, and these words of lamentation burst from a heart broken by a grief of which the shadow only lay upon it.

But the wonders of that night were not yet done with.

When Montezuma had made an end of crying his prophecies, I asked him humbly if I should summon to him the lords who were in attendance on him, but who stood at some distance.

‘Nay,’ he answered, ’I will not have them see me thus with grief and terror upon my face.  Whoever fears, at least I must seem brave.  Walk with me a while, Teule, and if it is in your mind to murder me I shall not grieve.’

I made no answer, but followed him as he led the way down the darkest of the winding paths that run between the cedar trees, where it would have been easy for me to kill him if I wished, but I could not see how I should be advantaged by the deed; also though I knew that Montezuma was my enemy, my heart shrank from the thought of murder.  For a mile or more he walked on without speaking, now beneath the shadow of the trees, and now through open spaces of garden planted with lovely flowers, till at last we came to the gates of the place where the royal dead are laid to rest.  Now in front of these gates was an open space of turf on which the moonlight shone brightly, and in the centre of this space lay something white, shaped like a woman.  Here Montezuma halted and looked at the gates, then said: