'It has long been prophesied that his children would return, and now it seems that the hour of their coming is at hand,' and he sighed heavily, then added: 'Go now.

To-morrow you shall tell me of these Teules, and the council of the priests shall decide your fate.' Now when I heard the name of the priests I trembled in all my bones and cried, clasping my hands in supplication: 'Slay me if you will, O king, but I beseech you deliver me not again into the hands of the priests.' 'We are all in the hands of the priests, who are the mouth of God,' he answered coldly.

'Besides, I hold that you have lied to me.' Then I went foreboding evil, and Guatemoc also looked downcast.

Bitterly did I curse the hour when I had said that I was of the Spanish blood and yet no Spaniard.

Had I known even what I knew that day, torture would not have wrung those words from me.