"Your general has made a fatal mistake," he said, "in sending Cuitlahua out to pacify the populace. He is of very different stuff from Montezuma, who has become a woman in the hands of the Spanish. You will see that he will never return, but will lead the people on to the attack. "It matters little to us. I know that we shall never escape. The Spaniards will slay us all, rather than that we should rejoin our people. But for that I care not. One would rather die in battle than be slain as a captive; but in either case we shall be dying for our country, and what can we wish for more? It is the duty of all to risk their lives, whenever they be needed for their country. Some here have fought in fifty battles for Mexico. I am younger, but not too young to have shared in many a battle. I fear death in no way, my friend, and should welcome it, as a change from captivity. "I am well content, now. I should have grieved to have died, believing that the Mexicans had lost all their ancient spirit and courage, and were content to be slaves beneath the yoke of a handful of strangers; but now I see that they were asleep, and not dead; and that these boasting strangers will find that the despised Mexican is a match for them; I shall die happy." The news of the wounding of Montezuma, and the desperate fighting in the streets and round the palace, excited the prisoners to the utmost. In their place of confinement they heard the thunder of the guns, the perpetual rattle of the musketry, and the shouts and yells of the combatants; but it was only when Roger visited them that they obtained any details as to the combat that was going on. They were filled with enthusiasm, as they heard how desperately their countrymen were fighting; and their only regret was that they could not join in the struggle, and die leading the assault against the Spaniards. Roger did not see them, upon the last day, until he took his place by their side, when the column formed up in the courtyard. "I am to keep near you, Cacama," he said, "in order to translate anything the officer may have to say to you." "We are going to leave the city?" Cacama asked, eagerly. "Yes, we are going to cross the causeway." The officer in charge here came up, and gave an order which Roger interpreted: "He asks whether you will all give a pledge to remain silent, as we march out. If you will do so, he will accept your promise; but if not, he will be forced to gag you, as the safety of the army depends upon our getting beyond the streets, before our march is discovered." "I wonder that they are ready to take our promise," Cacama said disdainfully, "after their own treachery. However, an Aztec noble is not like a Spaniard. Our faith may be depended upon. We will give our word to be silent." The other prisoners also promised, and were allowed to take their places in the column, ungagged.