A little wind sprang up also, moaning sadly in the mighty trees above and against the rocks of Chapoltepec.

Never did I witness a scene more strange or more pregnant with mystery and the promise of unborn horror, than that of this great monarch mourning over the downfall of his race and power.

As yet no misfortune had befallen the one or the other, and still he knew that both were doomed, and these words of lamentation burst from a heart broken by a grief of which the shadow only lay upon it.
But the wonders of that night were not yet done with.
When Montezuma had made an end of crying his prophecies, I asked him humbly if I should summon to him the lords who were in attendance on him, but who stood at some distance.
'Nay,' he answered, 'I will not have them see me thus with grief and terror upon my face.

Whoever fears, at least I must seem brave.

Walk with me a while, Teule, and if it is in your mind to murder me I shall not grieve.' I made no answer, but followed him as he led the way down the darkest of the winding paths that run between the cedar trees, where it would have been easy for me to kill him if I wished, but I could not see how I should be advantaged by the deed; also though I knew that Montezuma was my enemy, my heart shrank from the thought of murder.