"Pooh! They would hang me later on with my comrades if not to-morrow," he exclaimed aloud, rising to his feet and stalking backwards and forwards as if his thoughts had given him cause for vexation. "And, besides, friends are friends, and I will not be the one to tell tales even for such a stake. This Cortes shall find things out for himself, and discover that an English lad is not so easily frightened." Having made up his mind on the matter, he gave it scarcely another thought, though it is not to be wondered at that his impending end weighed upon his mind. But Roger had been closer to death. He had looked the scarlet-robed priest in the face, and had seen the glint of the obsidian blade which he carried. And he had been within a few feet of the hideous altar on which the sacrifice was laid. Why should he falter now? Let him think of his comrades, of the brigantine, and of Tamba and Teotlili. "They will attempt a rescue," he said to himself. "I am sure of that, and the fact of their pursuing shows how earnest they are. Tamba will never rest till I am dead, and then he will become worse than an enemy to these Spaniards. I shall wait for the night, and shall not give up hope till the morning dawns. I wish I could reach Sir Thomas and Philip and old Peter Tamworth. It would be nice to look on his face again." The thought sent him to the wall, on the far side of which the Spanish captain had told him that Sir Thomas and his comrades lay, and he inspected it carefully. It was built of dried mud, and presented a smooth surface some twenty feet in height. Clearly the task of clambering to the top was out of the question. And, besides, his guards would discover the action, and there would be trouble. "All depends on their posts," said Roger, thoughtfully. "The men who brought me here seem to have marched away again, and I have seen no one. I will stroll to the doorway and watch." He moved slowly across the square, inspecting the walls and the tiled flooring, till he came to the doorway which gave access to the long passage-way leading to the street beyond. There was a dark figure standing in the sunlight, and he bore a javelin of native manufacture over his shoulder. A second native joined him at that moment, while within a few minutes Roger caught sight of others. It was clear that the guard was composed of allies alone, and that they considered the walls of the square sufficient protection against escape. The doorway was the only exit, and they filled that, while in the space of ten or more minutes some hundreds of natives passed along the street. "They seem to have made up their minds to leave me alone," thought Roger. "But I should like something to eat. I will call, and ask for food and water." He strolled into the passage, and called softly to the sentry, using the few Aztec words with which he was acquainted. "Bring me food and drink," he said. "I am hungry, and have been travelling since early morning."