None saw us, or if they saw us, none hindered us, for all the company were intent upon the consummation of a fresh sacrifice; moreover, the tumult was such, as I afterwards discovered, that we were scarcely noticed. Two minutes passed, and our feet were set upon the winding way, and now I breathed again, for we were beyond the sight of the women. On we rushed swiftly as the cramped limbs of the Spaniards would carry them, till presently we reached that angle in the path where the breach began. The attacking Spaniards had already come to the further side of the gap, for though we could not see them, we could hear their cries of rage and despair as they halted helplessly and understood that their comrades were beyond their aid. “Now we are sped,” said the Spaniard with whom I had spoken; “the road is gone, and it must be certain death to try the side of the pyramid.” “Not so,” I answered; “some fifty feet below the path still runs, and one by one we will lower you to it with this rope.” Then we set to work. Making the cord fast beneath the arms of a soldier we let him down gently, till he came to the path, and was received there by his comrades as a man returned from the dead. The last to be lowered was that Spaniard with whom I had spoken. “Farewell,” he said, “and may the blessing of God be on you for this act of mercy, renegade though you are. Say, now, will you not come with me? I set my life and honour in pledge for your safety. You tell me that you are still a Christian man. Is that a place for Christians?” and he pointed upwards. “No, indeed,” I answered, “but still I cannot come, for my wife and son are there, and I must return to die with them if need be. If you bear me any gratitude, strive in return to save their lives, since for my own I care but little.” “That I will,” he said, and then we let him down among his friends, whom he reached in safety. Now we returned to the temple, giving it out that the Spaniards were in retreat, having failed to cross the breach in the roadway. Here before the temple the orgie still went on. But two Indians remained alive; and the priests of sacrifice grew weary. “Where are the Teules?” cried a voice. “Swift! strip them for the altar.” But the Teules were gone, nor, search where they would, could they find them. “Their God has taken them beneath His wing,” I said, speaking from the shadow and in a feigned voice. “Huitzel cannot prevail before the God of the Teules.” Then I slipped aside, so that none knew that it was I who had spoken, but the cry was caught up and echoed far and wide. “The God of the Christians has hidden them beneath His wing. Let us make merry with those whom He rejects,” said the cry, and the last of the captives were dragged away.