As by immediate direction from heaven, all eyes were turned to Guatimozin. He was nephew to the last two monarchs, and though only a young man, had distinguished himself both in the council and in the field. He had uniformly opposed the admission of the Spaniards to the capital. He had been prominent in all the recent attacks upon their quarters, and had especially signalized himself in the terrible overthrow of the disastrous night of their retreat. He had all the coolness and intrepidity of a veteran warrior, with all the fire and impetuosity of youth. He was about twenty-five years of age, of an elegant commanding figure, and so terrible in war that even his followers trembled in his presence. The young prince felt the extreme difficulty of the crisis, but did not shrink from the arduous and perilous post assigned him. With a prudence and circumspection, only to have been expected from one long accustomed to the cares and perplexities of government, he set himself to fortify every assailable point, and to prepare for the worst that might arise, in the event of another invasion. The works commenced during the brief reign of Cuitlahua were carried forward to their completion. By means of regular couriers and spies, a constant communication was kept up with all parts of the country. The movements of the Spaniards were narrowly watched, and their supposed designs frequently reported to the Emperor. Nothing was omitted which a sagacious and watchful monarch could do or devise, to make ready for a severe and protracted contest, in whatever form it might come. Thus established on the throne, and strengthened against a sudden surprise, the ardent young monarch repaired to Chapoltepec, where the bereaved household of Montezuma still remained, in sad but peaceful seclusion, and claimed the hand of the fair Princess Tecuichpo. Her retiring disposition would have preferred a humbler and more quiet station. She had seen enough of the agitations and burdens of a crowned head; enough of the gaudy emptiness of life in a palace, and longed to hide herself in some sweet, sequestered spot, away from the noisy parade and anxious bustle of a court, where her own home would be all her world. "Oh! that that crown had fallen on some other head," she exclaimed. "Though there is not another in Anahuac so worthy to wear it, not one who would so well sustain its ancient glory, yet I would not that _you_ should bear the heavy burden, or be exposed to that desolating storm that is gathering over our devoted capital and throne."