As a first step to demonstrate his power he treated the inhabitants of the capital to a discharge of the artillery, which the poor terrified people regarded as powers wielded by the white-faces' very gods themselves. But this was not enough for Cortes. He decided by one great theft, made at once, to gain a bloodless victory. He decided to steal from them their king. CHAPTER XXXVII. _ESCALANTE'S FATE DECIDES IT._ "I cannot help it, Diego. It is the force of circumstances. Either we must be the aggressors or the victims. And how, thinkest thou, I could then answer it to myself, were I to see these men, who have with so full a trust followed me, butchered before mine eyes?" Hernando Cortes was striding up and down the enormous apartment of the palace appointed him for a residence by Montezuma. His whole bearing, his face, his voice, betokened excessive agitation. He had only one companion with him at that hour, Montoro de Diego, and Montoro also looked very sorely troubled. "We have received nought at the hands of this heathen monarch," he murmured, in tones of heartfelt grief; "nought but the noblest generosity, the most chivalrous respect." "That is true," was the stern reply. "And we are going to return it with--with--" "The basest treachery and black ingratitude." There was silence in the apartment, but for those tramping feet, and the somewhat heavy breathing of the men. At last Cortes turned aside, and came to where his friend sat with clasped hands and bowed head, pondering over the inscrutable ways of Providence. He stood before him, looking down upon him with an expression of impatient sorrow. "Toro, thou and I have been friends for many a stirring year now. We have never yet had cause to doubt each other's truth. Whatever I do in these coming days, believe, or strive to believe, that I act--I declare it by the holy faith itself--according to what I feel to be the loudest calls of duty." Montoro grasped the other's hand for a moment. He did believe the assurance, although, to his more tender conscience and more enlightened mind, it seemed extraordinary that a glaring wrong could assume the garb of duty. As the friends thus stood together the gold-embroidered, brilliantly-dyed cotton hangings before the entrance of the room were hastily thrust aside, and a young Spanish knight entered, and advanced impetuously towards the Captain-General. He paused in some confusion when he had approached near enough to see the two grave faces. "Well, Velasquez," said his superior, with an accent of friendly encouragement, "methinks thy countenance betokens a whole budget of news. What is its nature? Good or evil? Fear not to speak out. I hold myself ever prepared in spirit to accept either." Thus encouraged, the young soldier of fortune came a step or two nearer, as he replied with suppressed eagerness--