saw not, as he had fondly anticipated, the encampment of the invader of Mexico, and the resting-place of his kinsman. But if he beheld not what he so much desired to see, he surveyed another spectacle, which caused him no little wonder. At a short distance, and almost at the bottom of the hill, he was struck with the unexpected apparition of the army of Narvaez, drawn out in order of battle, as if awaiting the approach of a foe, and commanding the passage of the river. He rubbed his eyes with astonishment; but there was no delusion in the view. "Senor," said Botello, in a low voice, as if reading his thoughts, "you marvel to see this army, which we left sleeping at the temple, arrived at the river before us; but you forget Zempoala lies only a league from the river." "Let us descend, and cross to the other side," said Amador, impatiently. "I see the very spot where sits the knave Narvaez on his horse; and if the valiant Cortes have it in intention, as I do not doubt, to give him battle, I should sharply regret to watch the conflict from this hill-side." "I told Narvaez, himself," said the magician, with a sort of triumph, "he should not join battle with Cortes to-day; and he shall not!--When the time comes, Don Amador may join in the combat, if he will.--Be content, senor: we cannot stir from this hill without being observed, and captured or slain. The thunder roars, the bolt glitters in the heaven; the storm that levels the tall ceibas, will open us a path presently, even through that angry army."