Often since that day I have wondered if some vision of the future entered into the girl’s breast in that hour, or if in her wrath she spoke at random.  I have wondered also whether this scene between her and Guatemoc had anything to do with the history of her after life; or did Marina, as she avowed to me in days to come, bring shame and ruin on her country for the love of Cortes alone?  It is hard to say, and perhaps these things had nothing to do with what followed, for when great events have happened, we are apt to search out causes for them in the past that were no cause.  This may have been but a passing mood of hers and one soon put out of mind, for it is certain that few build up the temples of their lives upon some firm foundation of hope or hate, of desire or despair, though it has happened to me to do so, but rather take chance for their architect—­and indeed whether they take him or no, he is still the master builder.  Still that Marina did not forget this talk I know, for in after times I heard her remind this very prince of the words that had passed between them, ay, and heard his noble answer to her.

Now I have but one more thing to tell of my stay in Tobasco, and then let me on to Mexico, and to the tale of how Montezuma’s daughter became my wife, and of my further dealings with de Garcia.

On the day of our departure a great sacrifice of slaves was held upon the teocalli to propitiate the gods, so that they might give us a safe journey, and also in honour of some festival, for to the festivals of the Indians there was no end.  Thither we went up the sides of the steep pyramid, since I must look upon these horrors daily.  When all was prepared, and we stood around the stone of sacrifice while the multitude watched below, that fierce paba who once had felt the beatings of my heart, came forth from the sanctuary of the god Quetzal and signed to his companions to stretch the first of the victims on the stone.  Then of a sudden the prince Guatemoc stepped forward, and addressing the priests, pointed to their chief, and said: 

‘Seize that man!’

They hesitated, for though he who commanded was a prince of the blood royal, to lay hands upon a high priest was sacrilege.  Then with a smile Guatemoc drew forth a ring having a dull blue stone set in its bezel, on which was engraved a strange device.  With the ring he drew out also a scroll of picture-writing, and held them both before the eyes of the pabas.  Now the ring was the ring of Montezuma, and the scroll was signed by the great high priest of Tenoctitlan, and those who looked on the ring and the scroll knew well that to disobey the mandate of him who bore them was death and dishonour in one.  So without more ado they seized their chief and held him.  Then Guatemoc spoke again and shortly: 

‘Lay him on the stone and sacrifice him to the god Quetzal.’

Now he who had taken such fierce joy in the death of others on this same stone, began to tremble and weep, for he did not desire to drink of his own medicine.