A gloom was over the sky, the camp, and Cortes; and a spirit of doubtfulness and disappointment seemed to be brooding in the atmosphere. Alvarado, Gonzalo de Sandoval, Escalante, Juan de Cabrera, and Montoro, gathered into a group not far from their leader, watched him, and discussed the present position of affairs. "The conspiracy is put down for the moment," said Alvarado gravely, "but at any hour it may be rekindled so long as we stay inactive in this unhealthy place. And some morning we may rise to find two thirds of the small handful of our comrades gone, and no ships left with which to effect our own escape." "What would you say, Alvarado," said a voice suddenly,--"what would you all say, in truth, if you did find yourselves thus with the means of escape cut off--with no safety for us but in victory?" Cortes had suddenly stepped up to them as his comrade and follower had been speaking, and there was so strange a tone in his voice as he put this question, so deep and burning a light glowing in the depths of his eyes, that the little group of men stood as though breathless, gazing at him, and waiting to hear more. The tension on their minds was strained to the utmost. Having asked his searching question, Hernan Cortes appeared for the moment indifferent as to the answer. Folding his arms across his broad and powerful chest, he once more turned, and gazed out across the waters to where the ten vessels that composed his fleet rode quietly at anchor. They looked well enough to the eye at any rate. And besides, they signified to those few hundreds of men, encamped on that foreign coast, home and life and liberty. While they had those ships to flee to, they felt brave to dare and attempt much. But without those ships, in an unknown world and surrounded by myriads of foes, their case would indeed be desperate. And even so Cortes, in his far-seeing wisdom, wished it should be. He turned back to his companions, and began abruptly as before. "Comrades, to many, doubtless to most of our brethren in arms, those ships signify home and life and liberty, and yet--I wish you to aid me in burning them." Montoro and the others of the group gazed at him speechless for one instant, and then cast startled glances around towards the distant camp. "Yes," said Cortes, answering the looks, "most assuredly it is we who should be burnt before the ships, if some of yon timorous or turbulent spirits heard word prematurely of such intention. But nevertheless, minute by minute, as I have stood here thinking, the conviction has grown upon me that only in the burning of those ships lies victory for us." "Break down the bridge behind," muttered Juan de Cabrera, "and the mule must go forward."