"Is not Malintzin the Son of Quetzalcoatl, the White God with a beard, who proclaimed from the Hill of Shouting[10] and from the Speaking Mountain,[11] the coming of his offspring? and shall Olin know more things than Malintzin? Guatimozin thinks, that the Spaniard should not slay his people." [Footnote 10: _Tzatzitepec_, a mountain near Tula.] [Footnote 11: _Catcitepetl_, a volcano.] "Wherefore, then, sent he not thee to _me_?" demanded the Captain-General. "I will listen to his words. It was not wise to send his ambassador to the soldier, when the general sat by, in his tent.--Hearken to me, friend Olin," he continued, with gravity: "Hadst thou brought his discourse to me, thou hadst then been listened to with honour, and dismissed in peace. Art thou a soldier?" "Olin is a counsellor," replied the Mexican, proudly; "but he has bled in battle." "And is not Guatimozin a warrior?" "He is the king of the House of Darts, and he has struck his foe." "When the lurking Ottomi is found skulking in his camp; when the angry Tlascalan creeps up to his fort; what does Guatimozin then with the prisoner? what says he to the Ottomi? what wills he with the Tlascalan?" "He binds them to the stone, and they die like the dogs of the altar!" replied the barbarian, with a fierce utterance. "Thou hast spoken thine own doom," replied Cortes, sternly; "only that, instead of perishing according to thy damnable customs, a sacrifice to spirits accurst, thou shalt have such death as we give to the dogs of Castile. Thou hast crept into my camp, like the spying Ottomi; thou comest with sword and shield, like the bravo of Tlascala; and thou hast addressed thyself to traitors and conspirators, to make them mine enemies. Why then should I not hang thee upon a tree? or why," he continued, with an elevated voice, descending from the platform, and, with a single motion, unsheathing his rapier and aiming it against the captive's breast--"why should I not kill thee, thou cur! upon the spot?" "I am a Mexican!" replied the young king, rather opposing his body to the expected thrust than seeking to avoid it; "I look upon my death, and I spit upon thee, Spaniard!" "Hah!" cried Cortes, whose desire was to intimidate, not to slay, and who could not but admire the fearless air of defiance, so boldly assumed by the captive, "thou hast either a true heart, or a penetrating eye.--Fear not; thy life is in my hands, but I design thee no wrong: death were but a just punishment for thy villany, yet I mean not to enforce it. What wilt thou do, if I discharge thee unharmed?" "I will know," said the barbarian, with a look of surprise, as soon as this was interpreted, "that Malintzin is not always hungry for blood; or rather, I will ask of my thoughts, what mischief to Mexico is meditated in the act of mercy."