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Updated: June 13, 2025
"The gods have, indeed, deserted us," he said; "when they have turned a monarch who was considered brave and honorable into a base slave. May their vengeance fall upon him! May the curse of our ruined country descend upon the man who is the real author of our misfortunes!" "Do you think, Cuitcatl," Amenche asked, "that the people will receive this usurper?"
Besides, you will be able to consult the princess, and can bring down such things as you may consider will aid me in my flight though how I am to escape the search there will be after me is more than I can guess. Pray go at once, for the sooner you go the sooner you can bring me back news of what is being done up there." Cuitcatl saw the justice of Roger's reasoning.
The story of the defeat of a band of Montezuma's soldiers by the white man had been whispered abroad, and Cuitcatl had mentioned to his friends what he had heard, from Bathalda, of the mighty bow Roger had used; but when they saw the weapon with which he was now provided, their wonder was to a large extent mingled with incredulity.
He was one of the party who had been captured with the emperor; and had been at once released, by Cortez, when the latter was informed by Malinche that he had befriended and released Roger. That evening, the two friends had a long talk together. "You will be happy," Cuitcatl said, "and will come, in time, in your home in your own country, to look back at this terrible time as a troubled dream.
"I thought it better to do so, for the purpose of coming here," Roger replied; "for if the priests want a victim so sorely, it seemed to me that, if I ventured to leave the palace dressed in my Spanish garb, I might be seized and carried off." "You are quite right," Cuitcatl agreed. "The priests are furious against you all, and I cannot altogether blame them.
Roger was sitting in the evening, conversing with Maclutha and Amenche on the probabilities of the battle that was expected to take place on that day, when Cuitcatl suddenly entered. His robe of bright feather work was gone. The panache of floating plumes was shorn from his head. His white garment was stained with blood. He was overcome by exhaustion and grief.
Cuitcatl had often urged him to try a bout with himself, or others, with the sword; but this, too, he had always declined, and his friend had supposed that he was aware his skill was by no means equal to his strength. But now the Spaniards had proved to the Mexicans the fighting powers of white men, Roger had no longer any reasons for hanging back.
I was one of his favorite nieces, and I thought of going to him and obtaining his permission to marry you, in order that you should be received into the nation. Now that hope is gone. "But I must leave you for a while, and go to Maclutha. I must not leave her longer, alone in her grief." Soon afterwards, Cuitcatl entered the room.
I was set aside until the last, because the priest who had daily chosen out the victims had been bribed by my friend Cuitcatl." Roger hastened away, as soon as Cortez dismissed him, and hurried back to Malinche's apartment. Her Mexican attendant, who was standing outside the door, opened it when she saw him approaching; and as she came up Malinche stole out, with her finger on her lips.
After the meal Cacama told him that, having heard from Bathalda of the wonderful shooting he had made with his great bow, he was desirous of seeing it; and that by his orders the forester, who had been sent for the evening before by Cuitcatl, had been directing some of the artisans to manufacture a weapon of similar strength. "We will go and see how it is getting on," he said.
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