He could not indeed but admire the fearless intrepidity, or rather audacity, with which Guzman (more oppressed by a sense of humiliation, at being made a spectacle among a crew so despised and abhorred, than by any other feeling,) looked around him upon the pagans, and extended his foot to the ligature, with which it was to be secured to the stone. Whatever were his faults, it could not be denied, that Don Francisco was a man of unflinching courage, which was indeed a constitutional trait. His presence on the stone of battle indicated that he had been captured after a heroic resistance. His resolution was, in this case, kept up by a knowledge of the nature of the ordeal through which he was to pass, and by full confidence in his ability to win all the privileges it conferred upon him. He had some little acquaintance with the Mexican tongue, and was by no means ignorant of the more remarkable institutions of the country. A victory over six awkward and half-starved barbarians, was an exploit not to be despaired of by a well-trained cavalier, even when denied any advantage of weapons, and defensive armour. Yet it was a curious circumstance, that he, who had not often kept faith himself, when his interest called upon him to break it, should rest with such perfect reliance upon the willingness of the Mexicans to liberate him, in the event of his prevailing over their champions. But he knew, that never but _once_ had a tribe of all the broad regions of Anahuac broken its pledged faith to a successful gladiator; and that tribe was, for that reason, ever after held infamous. It was the tribe of Huexotzinco; and Cortes himself placed the circumstance on record. As soon as his foot was properly secured, his arms were unbound, and a noble, who stood upon the scaffold in the character of a herald, addressed him in the following official terms: "This is the law of Mexico, and let the people hear: 'The prisoner who is brave, the gods honour. If he kill six strong men upon the stone Temalacatl, he shall be set free.' This is the law." "This is the law, then," repeated Guzman, in imperfect Mexican, turning his eyes upon Guatimozin, as if he disdained to hold converse with any meaner infidel: "Is it a law that will be remembered, when the prisoner is a Spaniard?" "He who is a prisoner, has no name and no country," replied the prince. "He is neither Tlascalan nor Castilian, but a man who kills or dies." "And if I prevail over six of thy soldiers," again cried Guzman, as the attendants strapped upon one arm a light buckler of basket-work, and gave him also a short macana, "dost thou warrant me by thy gods, that I shall be sent back to Don Hernan?" "Let the prisoner fight," said the king sternly: "Are the warriors of Mexico blades of grass, that they should be blown down by a man's breath, before the sword has struck them?"