What Juan had said in relation to the cause of his confinement, was true, although he was not aware of the whole extent of the truth. In releasing him from impending death at Tezcuco, the young infidel did not doubt, in the simplicity of his heart, that he was adding a powerful engine of defence to his preparations, as well as requiting the obligation, which, he believed, had been the principal cause of Juan's downfall. He reckoned confidently upon Juan's desire for vengeance, the absence of which feeling, after wrongs so stirring and manifold, his nature did not allow him to anticipate; and he dwelt also, with the security of pride, upon the incentive offered in the love of the daughter of Montezuma. In this spirit of confidence, without much regarding Juan's previous averments, he introduced him to his assembled forces, upon the day of coronation, that all might know him, and respect him thenceforth as one honoured with the highest of titles--the king's brother. So far, all was well: the name of the Young Eagle was not wholly unknown to the Mexican warriors; and the sight of his manly figure, arrayed in a native cloak, his head crowned with a lofty penacho, put on by the king's hand, and the glittering axe of obsidian received from the same quarter, and grasped a moment with a military air, made an impression in his favour, that could only be obliterated by his own act of rejection. The spectacle was hailed with acclamations, and Far and wide, the thundering shout, Rolling among reduplicating rocks, Peal'd o'er the hills and up the mountain vales.[14] [Footnote 14: Southey's Roderic.]