And with that sententious remark the politic priest edged himself away to safer neighbourhood, and resumed the cry as lustily as the truest among Cortes' followers-- "To Mexico! Lead on to Mexico!" Well satisfied with the change effected thus rapidly in his soldiers' sentiments, the Commander suddenly resolved to give the new-born enthusiasm a safe outlet, and at the same time to further one of his own most solemnly-cherished purposes. He raised his hands to claim silence once more, then his voice. But his efforts were vain. He had roused a new uproar, which, though a joyous one, was universal, and more difficult to allay. Threats to fly might be toned down by some tinge of shame, but offers and entreaties to be allowed to fight needed no restraint. The cry rang on and on unceasingly: "To Mexico! Lead on to Mexico!" "To Mexico indeed! To the depths of the sea with you rather, squalling rabble that ye are," said Cortes at last impatiently. Turning to the group of officers about him he added in comic despair: "Can no one befriend me thus far?" "How far?" asked Alvarado and Escalante together, and with some wonder. "How far!" repeated the Captain in a tone of increasing irritation. "Why, to the extent of ramming something down those screaming throats, to stop this Babel, to be sure." Juan de Cabrera gave a delighted leap. "I have it. I'll set the dogs barking; that will drown them." "Ay, and thy Captain also," ejaculated Cortes, breaking into a short laugh in spite of himself. "Wilt thou never outgrow thy boyhood, thou madcap Juan? Thinkest thou--" But his remonstrance died away on his lips, and they curved into an awe-struck smile. From a few feet behind him there arose the first notes of a solemn chant--loud and strong as a battle-cry, sweet as the tones of a silver bell. Alone and unaided the glorious voice sang on for a few moments, and then Father Olmedo's rich bass joined in, and Pedro de Alvarado's, then the light tenors of Escalante and Cabrera, and the ringing voice of Gonzalo de Sandoval. For the space, perhaps, of a quarter of a minute the shouting soldiers continued their cry through the chant, "To Mexico! to Mexico!" then, with a startled sensation of thrilling wonder, the foremost ranks caught the sweeter sounds, hushed their own discordant tones, paused, and joined in. "Hearken!" came the smothered ejaculation of the man Morla to Juan Diaz, who had just come up to him. And Juan the priest gazed at him with wide eyes, and then, accepting this new vent for his restlessness, he too joined in with a tremendous vigour that soon let all ears, that were not absolutely deaf, in the neighbourhood know what was going forward. By some unconscious impulse the rough company of Spanish adventurers fell upon their knees, and still the solemn chant rose and fell, and swelled again, on that new-found western shore of an idolatrous land, to the glory of the one true God.