As Guatimozin spoke, he drew from his cloak a Spanish dagger, long, sharp and exceedingly bright,--a relic of the spoils won from the invaders in the Night of Sorrow,--and offered it to the prisoner, adding, "When I depart, a soldier will fasten the door. If thou art strong-hearted, thou canst rush by, dealing him a blow. At the water's edge, by the broken wall, thou wilt find a friend with a canoe; it is Techeechee. Is not Tenochtitlan hard by? Guatimozin, the king of Mexico, will make his friend welcome." "Prince," said Juan, sadly, "this thing cannot be. Why should I strike down the poor sentinel? He has done me no wrong. What would become of thee? Thou couldst not escape. What would become of Villafana, who, knave though he be, has yet done much to serve me? And what, to conclude, would become of _me_, escaping from Christians, to take refuge among thy unbelieving people? I can die, prince, but I can be neither renegade nor apostate." "Is there nothing in Tenochtitlan, that dwells in the thoughts of the captive? I will be very good to thee; and thou shalt drink the blood of thy foe." "Prince," said Juan, firmly, "thine eye cannot search the soul of a Christian. Malintzin has done me a great wrong, yet would I not harm a hair of his head; no, heaven is my witness! I can forgive him even my death, however unjust and cruel." "It is a dove of Cholula that speaks in the voice of my friend," said the infidel, struck with as much disdain as surprise at the want of spirit, which his barbarous code of honour discovered in a lack of vindictiveness: "Is a man a worm that he should be trampled on?" "No," said Juan, bitterly,--for he could not resist his feelings of indignation, when he suffered himself to consider his degradation in this light. "Had I resisted him in his first anger, had I resented his first injustice, had I provoked him by any complaint, then might I think of his course with submission. But I have not; I have been, indeed, as thou sayest, a worm, at all times helpless, at all times unresisting. Others have complained, some have defied him, but they passed unpunished. I, who have yielded, like a woman, escape not: I creep from the path of his anger, but his foot follows me,--turn which way I will, it crushes me. Even Befo will show his teeth sometimes--I have seen him growl when Cortes struck him--and by mine honour, I think he struck him, because he was once mine!" How far, by indulging such thoughts, he might have wrought himself into the very spirit which Guatimozin was surprised to find absent, we will not venture to say. He was interrupted by the sudden re-entrance of Villafana, who immediately exclaimed,