Before the maidens had departed, it was evident that the firing and other noises on the causeway were subsiding. Before they had been gone the full space of an hour, a heavy step rang in the passage, and the next moment the Indian monarch stood before the captive. He was singularly and sumptuously armed. From head to foot, his body was covered with a garment, perhaps of escaupil, fitting so tightly as to display his limbs to advantage; and over all was a coat of mail, consisting of copper spangles or scales, richly gilded, and stitched upon a shirt of dressed leather. His head was defended by a morion of the same metal, shaped not unlike to those of the Spaniards, and equally strong; and its ability to resist a violent blow was increased by the folds of a stout serpent, painted green, wreathing over its whole surface. A shield of tapir-skin, studded with copper nails, hung from his neck; and he bore a macana, which was stained with blood. He wore none of the emblems of royalty, and his appearance was only that of some highly distinguished noble. His eye was bright and fiery, his step firm and proud, but his aspect was thin and haggard. "Has my brother heard the shouts of men near him, and does he yet say, 'Let me sleep?'" were the words with which he saluted the captive. "Prince," said Juan, eyeing him anxiously and interrogatively, though speaking with positive emphasis, "as I told you before, so has it happened. The cannon were ready on the dike, the falconets were charged in the ships, and the men of Sandoval slept with swords and matches in their hands, and with their eyes open. Guatimozin does not come back a victor!" "He comes back with a prisoner," said the prince, proudly; "and, to-morrow, the lord with red hair (Sandoval) will count the dead and weep, and Malintzin shall see the flames of sacrifice rising from the pyramid." "Alas!" exclaimed Juan, "in condemning captives to this horrible death, against your will, for I know your heart is not cruel, you harden the soul of Cortes against you; and he will remember each sacrifice, when the day of surrender comes at last." "Let it be harder than it is, what cares the Mexican who dies?" replied the king. "Does my brother think that I am weary, or that Malintzin can fight longer than I?" "Think not to deceive me, prince--I know that already your altars and palaces are within reach of the cannon-shot--nay, of the musket-bullet--You are hemmed in, like a wild-cat on a tree--Your enemies are all round you, and they look into your eyes. Are not the water-suburbs already taken?"