attired, though she was worn with travel and suffering, and grief had dimmed her beauty for a while, she seemed the queenliest woman that my eyes have seen.  Next she caused me to be laid upon my rude litter, and when the hour of noon was come, she commanded those soldiers who had borne me across the mountains to carry me by her side.  Thus we issued from the wide doorway of the palace and took our stand upon the platform at the head of the steps.  As we came a great cry rose from the thousands of the people, a fierce cry like that of wild beasts howling for their prey.  Higher and higher it rose, a sound to strike terror into the bravest heart, and by degrees I caught its purport.

‘Kill them!’ said the cry.  ‘Give the liars to the Teules.’

Otomie stepped forward to the edge of the platform, and lifting the ebony sceptre she stood silent, the sunlight beating on her lovely face and form.  But the multitude screamed a thousand taunts and threats at us, and still the tumult grew.  Once they rushed towards her as though to tear her to pieces, but fell back at the last stair, as a wave falls from a rock, and once a spear was thrown that passed between her neck and shoulder.

Now the soldiers who had carried me, making certain that our death was at hand, and having no wish to share it, set my litter down upon the stones and slipped back into the palace, but all this while Otomie never so much as moved, no, not even when the spear hissed past her.  She stood before them stately and scornful, a very queen among women, and little by little the majesty of her presence and the greatness of her courage hushed them to silence.  When there was quiet at length, she spoke in a clear voice that carried far.

‘Am I among my own people of the Otomie?’ she asked bitterly, ’or have we lost our path and wandered perchance among some savage Tlascalan tribe?  Listen, people of the Otomie.  I have but one voice and none can reason with a multitude.  Choose you a tongue to speak for you, and let him set out the desire of your hearts.’

Now the tumult began again, for some shouted one name and some another, but in the end a priest and noble named Maxtla stepped forward, a man of great power among the Otomie, who, above all had favoured an alliance with the Spaniards and opposed the sending of an army to aid Guatemoc in the defence of Tenoctitlan.  Nor did he come alone, for with him were four chiefs, whom by their dress I knew to be Tlascalans and envoys from Cortes.  Then my heart sank, for it was not difficult to guess the object of their coming.

‘Speak on, Maxtla,’ said Otomie, ’for we must hear what there is for us to answer, and you, people of the Otomie, I pray you keep silence, that you may judge between us when there is an end of talking.’

Now a great silence fell upon the multitude, who pressed together like sheep in a pen, and strained their ears to catch the words of Maxtla.