An hour later all was in readiness. The bowls, which were massive affairs, blocked the summit of the last flight of stairs, while their new quarters were more effectually guarded than had been the case when the idol stood in the way. The priest also had been removed to his new quarters, and so well had Roger's threats acted, as well as the remembrance of his strength and rough handling, that there seemed little doubt that the man would prove faithful and give no trouble. Roger and Tamba stood on the edge of the tower, looking down at the streets below, where there was less movement now. At their feet, and piled at intervals round the tower, were heaps of stones, or bricks, which they had wrenched from the sides of the smaller towers, for all were constructed of clay and earth, to which a facing of bricks had been added. "They are fairly small, and one can throw them easily," explained Roger. "We will use them in case of attack, and I rather think that that will be as soon as darkness falls. If they win their way up the stairs we will stand behind the flower jars and strike at them with our swords. Fortunately we are now well supplied with arms." "And there is food and drink too, as you tell me, master. We are fortunate. I begin to think that these Mexicans will do as their noble has done. They will change their minds, and will see in us valuable friends who can help them." "Not till they have attacked again," said Roger, with assurance. Nor did he prove to be mistaken, for as the dusk came, and it was no longer possible to see the lowest of the flights of steps, a movement was heard below. "Men at the foot of the stairs," said Tamba, who had wonderful hearing. "They are coming." Roger listened intently. Then he took an armful of bricks, and holding them against his chest with his left arm, began to hurl them down the side of the tower. He had carefully marked the spot to drop them from during the daylight, and now he had the satisfaction of hearing more than one clatter on the stairway. There was a sudden shriek and a scampering of many feet. After that, silence surrounded the tower, and though Tamba crept to the bottom, no one was to be seen. Then silence settled down upon the city, and the darkness became extreme. Nothing, in fact, could be seen save the flare of a number of sacrificial fires, which blazed upon the altars perched upon the summit of every tower. The scene was weird, for occasionally a gust of wind would stir these flames, and they burned up brightly, allowing Roger and Tamba to obtain a glimpse of the streets and the courtyards below, and of the water which surrounded the city. Then all was blackness again, save for the fires and for the occasional figure of an attendant who replenished them. "A good thought," said Roger. "Ours shall blaze too, and will perhaps help us to ward off danger. Throw some of the fuel on."