"It has been no pretence, Malinche. I have learnt to love and trust you." "Then prove your words," cried Cortes, with a rapid glance round at his Spanish officers, who gathered instantly close up about him and the Emperor,--that poor Emperor, who had already, one would think, sufficiently proved his trust by dismissing all his own faithful guards and attendants from the apartment where he entertained his treacherous visitors. "Then prove your words," exclaimed Cortes a second time, striding a step nearer to the trembling monarch. "Trust yourself to our care for awhile. We have been your guests; now be our guest in our quarters, until you have proved your innocence of this cruel slaughter of our comrades. So only will we credit what you say." Montezuma rose from his pile of cushions, and grasping the embroidered hangings of the wall behind him for support, he replied, with a brave effort at self-command, and with returning dignity-- "Nay, ye white-faces, as messengers from the gods have I received you; but you, as a culprit prisoner would hold me in your power." "Not would, but will, or as a corpse," exclaimed that hot-brained Velasquez de Leon; and, drawing his sword with unforeseen speed, he had it already touching the Emperor's breast, before Montoro could spring forward and dash it down again. But the rash, discourteous act had pushed matters to an extremity beyond recall. Even had Hernando Cortes felt any inclination to repent of his harsh purpose, it would now truly have been impossible. After suffering such a gross indignity Montezuma must have consulted his high estate by destroying, or expelling, the handful of foreigners who had dared to inflict it, were he able. Even he seemed conscious of this new aspect of the affair. "Do you desire to have me in your power that you may kill me?" he asked at length, with a tone of calm despair that touched even Cortes' heart. He answered eagerly-- "Nay, verily. You profess affection for me; I swear to it for you. But I cannot let my followers be slain with impunity. I have their lives to answer for to my sovereign." "That may well be," was the answer. "But now they are slain; and although, on my kingly word I declare, without my will or knowledge, I yet profess my deepest grief for the mischance. What would you more, Malinche?" "That you should come with us now," was the ready answer. "Not as a prisoner, as you put it, but as an honoured guest, surrounded by your own attendants, and free of access to all your subjects as you are here in your own palace."