There are other shadows, too, that frequent the moss-hung alleys of Chapultepec, but these are creatures of a later day and unheeded by the sorrowful phantoms of the victims of the Conquest. As this is the story of the Mexicans, and not of the Conquest only, and as moreover that period of Mexican history is fully elsewhere described, we must pass slightly over the continued adventures of Cortés. When the adventurer saw that the presence of the monarch had produced no good effect upon his subjects, he withdrew to head-quarters, and after a consultation with his captains, resolved to abandon the city and to cut a passage for himself and his army, through the enraged assemblage of his enemies. This difficult and dangerous task was effected on the night of July 1, 1520. It was impossible to conceal so great a movement from the Mexicans. As soon as they became aware of it, they attacked the little army on its march, destroyed bridges before them, while suddenly the lagoons were covered with canoas from which showered arrows upon the Spaniards. Many soldiers were killed or drowned. They set out loaded with booty which they had seized in their palace, and their treasures impeded their progress, so that every Spaniard had to choose between abandoning these precious objects or saving his life. Quantities of gold and precious things according to the report, were thrown into the canals. Cortés, himself under a thousand dangers, succeeded in effecting his escape from the city to a spot where, under a large tree, he threw himself down to rest, and there reviewed the whole extent of his misfortune, recognized the loss of his most faithful and bravest companions, and faced the maimed condition of the last of his army. Tears came to the eyes of the bold commander, and for a moment all his vigor and energy abandoned him. Some few of his companions, however, were left to him. Alvarado, on whom rests the real blame in this disaster, had escaped by a miraculous leap across a breach in the causeway which it was necessary to pass. Pressing his long lance firmly on the bottom of the shallow lake, strewed with wrecks of every sort, he sprang across the chasm to the amazement of the beholders. Several others were there, and above all, Marina was safe in the hands of some Tlaxcallans who had faithfully protected her.