"There is a stir in the camps of the enemy also," said Teotlili, receiving a message from one of the look-outs. "Our men are prepared on the causeways, and we are expecting attack."
"Then we will set out in the canoes as soon as the brigantines are within a few leagues," answered Roger. "I will go now to the port and prepare to sail."
An hour later he, with Philip to keep him company, set foot on one of the bulky craft constructed of several canoes, and put off from Mexico. They were followed by Peter and a host of the Mexicans, some in the larger craft which were propelled by sails, and more in the single canoes urged by means of paddles. The whole fleet steered from the city towards the enemy, and met them some three leagues away, where they lay, the brigantines swaying to and fro, their canvas flapping idly, for there was now no wind at all.
"Nothing could be more favourable," exclaimed Roger. "We will attack at once, and before they get a breeze to help them."
The cotton sheets which were hoisted aboard the larger craft were lowered, and paddles seized. Then the fleet of canoes dashed forward, forty or more making for each brigantine.
Boom! A cannon-shot thundered from the nearest brigantine, and a ball ploughed its way through the very heart of the fleet of Mexican canoes. Boom! a second shot rang out, and was followed by a fusillade, which was helped from each one of the ships.
"Forward!" called out Teotlili, who was with Roger and Philip. "Take no heed of their shot, but close in and scramble aboard. Our numbers will overwhelm them."
"Shout to the men to separate," called out Roger; "then there will be less chance of being hit. Now, push on. A breeze would ruin our chances."
"And one is coming, my leader," said Peter, mournfully, pointing to the sky. "There is wind there, and it will fill the sails before we can get to this fleet. They are a long cannon-shot from us yet, and there is time for them to gather way. Better perhaps to retire."
"Better to risk disaster than do that," exclaimed Roger, sharply. "To retire would be to dishearten the men. Forward! We will make a brave attempt to capture them."
He urged the rowers to get the bulky craft ahead of the others, and, thanks to the fact that more than thirty were plying the paddles, the boat shot ahead and took the lead. Then Roger pointed to the largest of the brigantines.
"Run us aboard that," he said in peremptory tones, "and, Philip, prepare to follow me over the side. The natives will come after us willingly, and with a rush we may capture the craft. Now, push on, push on!"
His eye shifted from the brigantines to the sky, and back to the surface of the lake. It was ruffled already, he noticed, and the large, flapping sails of the enemy's fleet flapped louder still, while some bellied. It was a question of time, he knew, for if the brigantines could get the wind, and a good one, too, they could sail away from the canoes, could circle round them, and deluge the Mexicans with shot. Worse still, these bulky vessels, the like of which had never appeared on the lake before in the memory of man, would, if they were sailed boldly down upon the canoes of the Mexicans, overwhelm them, and ride over them as if they were straws floating in the water. It was a race, and Roger and his men made strenuous efforts to win it.
"They are off. Look at their sails. They are under way! Master Roger, 'twould be better to beat a retreat."
Peter took him by the sleeve, but our hero shook him off.
"We have men to spare, even if the whole fleet be sunk," he said, "and at this stage of the battle it is better to risk all than to set a bad example. Let us show the Spaniards that we will not be conquered without a struggle. Come, take the tiller, and set us aboard."
He was inflexible now that he had given his orders, and, come what might, was determined to give battle to the enemy.
"It may seem unwise," he said to himself over and over again, "but it is a necessary act, I am sure. Besides, if we could cripple one of the brigantines only it would be something gained, even at the cost of thousands of lives. And, if the wind is really coming steadily, they would be after us if we retired, and would treat us just as badly as they can do now. No. Attack is the only thing for us, and we will see it through."
By now the two fleets were rapidly approaching one another—the Spaniards moving slowly through the water, with their sails only half filled, while the Mexican fleet advanced at a swifter pace, propelled by paddles. Those who were free to do so answered the cannon-shots with shouts and shrill whistles, while every canoe showed a number of dusky figures brandishing their arms. Occasionally a shot would strike one of the tiny craft, and she would sink at once, the occupants swimming away to others, or turning their heads toward the city. Roger hardly noticed these, however. His eye was fixed upon the large brigantine, which he was determined to capture. And those aboard her evidently saw his object, for they trained a gun upon him and took careful aim.
"'Tis the dog of a white giant," said the gunner who trained the piece. "Stand back, while I blow him to atoms!"
He waved his comrades to one side and squinted along the sight. Then he raised his head and peered over the side.
"The breeze comes stronger," he said with a husky laugh, "and maybe the gun will not be required. But I will try. I would give a gold doubloon to be able to strike the head from that fellow."
Once more his eye went to the piece, and he adjusted the aim minutely. Then he touched the vent with his port-fire and sprang away. There was a roar, a spout of smoke and flame flew from the brigantine's side, and a shot hummed over the craft in which Roger stood.
"A close ball," he remarked with a laugh. "The Spaniards have singled us out and hope to sink us. But we shall be there before they can repeat the attempt. Warn the men to be ready."
Teotlili did as he was asked, and then stood beside his friend, both watching the gunner aboard the brigantine. By now they were much closer, and it was possible to make out his figure distinctly, and even to see his features.
"A face which I have good cause to know," exclaimed Roger, suddenly, staring at the enemy. "That is Alvarez, the traitor who stole the golden sign and afterwards nearly stabbed me to death. There is added reason for capturing that vessel. Urge the rowers on, Teotlili. Time is of the utmost importance."
Time was, in fact, of more than the utmost importance. Every minute brought added freshness to the wind, and the brigantines, which a little while before had lain there rolling lazily, were now running free, and churning up a salt wave at their bows. It became no longer a race, for the Spaniards now bore down upon the fleet of Mexican canoes; but it was simply a question of where the combatants would meet, and whether the canoes would be able to grapple with the enemy.
"We shall be stove in and sunk at once," said Peter; "and now it is too late to retire. Better give orders to all to seize the vessel and abandon this."
"Whereby we shall make sure of her capture," exclaimed Roger. "A good thought, Peter, and the order shall be given. Tell all the crew to spring for the rail and fight their way on to the deck, Teotlili. Let them desert this craft, for it will be useless. Ah! the distance grows less. That ruffian is about to fire."
He pointed to the bows of the brigantine, to the figure posted there, now without doubt that of Alvarez. He was peering over the rail again, waiting for the craft to come to closer quarters, and the smoke of his port-fire could be seen as he blew upon it.
"For the god of air!" he shouted out, catching sight of Roger and waving the brand. "This will send him quicker to his end than would the stroke of a dagger. One minute and he and his men will be blown from the water."
He shook his fist at the approaching canoe, and then bent to his sights again.
"Put us over a little," said Roger, quietly, touching Peter's arm to attract his attention. "Now, Teotlili, let the men stop rowing."
Paddles were at once drawn from the water, while the way on the craft allowed her to be steered to one side. She shot to the left, while the brigantine held on her course. Almost at the same moment Alvarez blew on his port-fire again and applied it to the vent, sending a charge of small shot tearing through the air, to strike the surface of the lake within a few feet of the canoe.
"Row, and put us over again," shouted Roger. "That is right. She will strike us within a minute, and we must climb. Put her nose up as the brigantine gets close, and then she will not roll us over."
There was a moment of confusion while the orders were carried out. But Peter was an excellent seaman, and had been in dangerous work before. He held his tiller firmly, beckoned to the rowers to give a few strokes with their paddles, and then, just as the stem of the brigantine bore up for the broadside of the craft, he put his helm over again, causing the enemy's vessel to sail smoothly alongside.
"Aboard her! Cling to her rails," shouted Roger, springing to that side of the canoe and leaping for the deck of the brigantine. He was followed by every man aboard, and ere a minute had passed some fifty natives were hanging to the brigantine—some half upon the deck, while others merely retained a grip of the rail. As for their canoe, it swung round till the stern was caught by the brigantine, which happened to roll at that instant. The impact caused the Mexican craft to crumple up as if she had been made of paper, and before anyone could have thought it possible it had gone to the bottom. It was a desperate situation for the attackers, and all recognized that victory must be won if they wished to live. One by one they scrambled on to the deck, though a few were flung off by the Spaniards. But the latter had been taken by surprise at the sudden manœuvre of the Mexicans, and before they could dash along to that side, Roger and Peter and Philip stood firmly upon the deck, with some forty natives beside them.
"Charge before they can use their muskets and crossbows!" shouted Roger. "St. George! St. George! Follow to the stern."
His sword was held firmly in his hand, and he had long ago donned his steel cap. With that to protect him, and a thickly padded cotton jerkin over his chest, he flung himself upon the astounded Spaniards recklessly, his eye searching for Alvarez. Men opposed him, and dashed at him with their swords. But he hardly seemed to notice. His deft blade put the thrusts and cuts aside, while his furious blows cut his assailants down. One man even discharged a musket in his face, the bullet tearing over his head, while the flames from the discharge singed his hair. But Roger hardly noticed the incident, for at that very moment he had caught sight of the crafty Alvarez standing in rear of his comrades, where he had run from the bows.
"Ah, Alvarez the traitor!" he shouted scornfully, while the Spaniard glared at Roger like a tiger. "Alvarez the traitor, who took us all in and deceived us. Well, within a minute I shall be with you, and then there shall be payment of my debt. Let every one who comes within reach of that man secure him alive, for I want him. And be sure to take him with the satchel which he wears beneath his arm."
Roger's quick eye had seen the same bag in which he had brought the golden sign ashore now secured over Alvarez's shoulder, and doubtless containing the coveted disc—the plaque which held the secret of the Mexican treasure, and which, if he could only secure it, would lead to an immense reward for himself and the expedition; that is, supposing he and his comrades escaped from Mexico, which was not at all certain. In the meanwhile they had their hands sufficiently full, for as they fought on the deck of the Spanish brigantine, the other vessels sailing beneath the flag of Castile bore down upon them, churning their way through a mass of canoes, which were swamped for all the world as though they were but tiny shells. None of the Mexican craft could withstand these heavy vessels—not even those constructed by Peter Tamworth. The huge prows of the brigantines crashed into them and bore them down, rolling them and their freight over, and sending the canoes to the bottom. The natives, however, could swim like fish, and while numbers made vain attempts to clamber aboard the brigantines, others swam to their comrades or turned for the long swim home. But they had to contend with more than water alone, for as the brigantines ran, the Spanish plied the enemy with their guns, using small shot, one of which was sufficient to wreck a canoe, while broadsides often slew fifty and more of the unfortunate Mexicans. Then the crossbow-men aboard turned to the brigantine on which Roger and his friends fought, sending their shafts amongst them.
"Tell some of our men to keep down that fire," gasped Roger, halting for a moment and turning to Teotlili. "Now, Peter and Philip, one more effort and we will drive these Spaniards out into the lake. Shoulder to shoulder, and bring up some of the natives with the lances. We will make a capture, and will take this fellow Alvarez; for see, the disc is hanging to his shoulder."
They gathered into a close body again, and at a shout from our hero advanced along the deck at a run. The Spaniards opposed them stubbornly, but the lances kept the swordsmen well away, while the crossbows held the fire from the nearest brigantines. And while the lances hampered the enemy, Roger and his two comrades, together with a number of the Mexicans who were armed with their obsidian swords, dashed into close quarters, and struck fiercely at their opponents. There was a desperate mêlée, a struggle, the fate of which hung in the balance, and a conflict at which Alvarez the traitor stared as if he were dumfounded. He was cornered. He saw before him men who were determined to win, and men, moreover, who had a personal enmity for himself. He remembered his treachery—the dastardly blow which he had struck at the young giant fighting in the very centre of the ship's deck, and he trembled now for the consequences. He stood with the port-fire still smouldering in his hand, and a look of terror on his face. Then seeing his comrades slowly giving way, he dived below and disappeared for a moment.
"He is a coward at heart," shouted Roger, who had kept an eye on him. "He has slunk below the deck, and there we shall find him. Now, one rush and we shall have the craft."
"He has come up again. What devil's trick is he playing?" suddenly exclaimed Philip. "See him; he has something in his hand! He is laying a train!"
"And will blow the brigantine up! The villain!" shouted Roger. "Let us get to him before he can apply the match."
They made frantic efforts to come at Alvarez, and their terrific blows forced the enemy back. Then Roger rushed like a maddened bull into the very centre of the Spaniards, and with a shout of consternation they gave way and ran to the stern. But they were not allowed to pause there, for the Mexicans were now fully roused. The lances were levelled, and the natives came at a run full tilt at their enemies. It was a desperate situation for the Spaniards. They had to choose between death from those lances and the swords of the Englishmen, or a leap into the lake and the possibility of being rescued by their friends or of being taken by the enemy.
"Jump!" shouted Alvarez; "they shall not have the vessel. Jump! I have made a train ready and will fire it. Now overboard, every man of you."
He glanced along the deck, gave Roger a look which spoke volumes, and which threatened unutterable reprisals, and then blew on his match.
"We will send their god of air higher than he had hoped," he shouted with a derisive laugh. "We will send him to the skies, and in little pieces. Farewell, Roger de Luce, one-time lieutenant aboard the brigantine, and now Roger the Cacique, lord of Mexico. We shall not meet again."
The lances were within four yards of him when he thrust the match into the black train trailing across the deck. But even then his coolness and determination did not desert him. He pushed in the glowing end and waited till the grains commenced to splutter. Then he tossed the brand full at Roger, and setting the example to his men, leaped over the side, the Spaniards following instantly, tumbling into the lake with a series of loud splashes, and with loud shouts to attract the attention of their comrades. As for the attackers, the Mexicans hardly realized what was happening, for they were unacquainted with the powers of gunpowder, and even then, after their conflicts with the Spaniards, did not know how the thunder of their guns was produced, nor the means by which the ball was driven. They stared over the side, therefore, while the crossbow-men sent their shafts at the swimmers. And there they would have remained, deafening the air with their shouts of triumph, had it not been for their leader. Roger bounded forward and leaped at the spluttering train, hoping to put out the fire with his foot. But it ran as swiftly as a man could travel, and as he reached the black and smoking line which it had left, he saw that it was already descending the rough ladder which led below, and was racing over the piece of canvas on which Alvarez had laid it. Beyond, in the darkness, which the flashes of the powder helped to lighten spasmodically, was the faint outline of a barrel.
"The powder! We are dead men if we do not leap overboard!" he shouted. Then he seized Teotlili and dragged him to the side.
"Tell all to leap at once for their lives," he said. "Come, Philip, Peter, and every one. We will capture Alvarez in the water."
There was not a moment to be lost, and therefore, without another glance at those aboard, he flung himself into the water, and swimming beneath the surface as far as possible, rose at length when he was forced to do so by the need of air. At the same instant there was a deafening explosion, the brigantine split into fragments, while her deck and spars, together with some dozen of the unhappy natives, were flung into the air with terrific force, thedébrisdescending within a few seconds, and splashing into the lake. Roger trod water and looked vainly for Alvarez. But he was nowhere to be seen. Then he turned to look for Peter and Philip, to find them close behind him.
"The enemy are being picked up by that brigantine," gasped Philip, pointing to one which was close at hand. "We had better move away, or they will take us prisoners."
"Or shoot us down with their shafts," spluttered Peter, who was no great swimmer. "Better get aboard one of the canoes."
"We must do so at once," answered Roger. "Alvarez must escape for the time, but I know that he is with the enemy now, and that he has the disc. Let him wait, for I will take him yet, and make him pay for his treachery. Ah, here is Teotlili."
"My lord, I have whistled for one of the larger craft. Let us get aboard and be gone. It would be well to signal to all to retire. The brigantines are too strong for us."
The Mexican noble trod water vigorously, and waved his arm. At the signal one of the larger craft dashed up at a brisk pace, for the sails had been hoisted again, and very soon she had taken the swimmers aboard. Then Roger had an opportunity of seeing how the battle went, and realized that Teotlili had spoken correctly. For the brigantines would have conquered even if they had had no armed men aboard, and merely sufficient to man the ropes and the tiller. The breeze had freshened, and the surface of the lake was now driven into little waves, on which the canoes danced up and down. And through the water came the brigantines, handled by men who knew their work well. They came down upon the line of canoes, and plunged through and through them, upsetting them, crashing their timbers, and sending them to the bottom. Then they wheeled, and came back again, spreading shot and crossbow shafts amongst the swimmers and those on the canoes. Nothing could withstand them, and though Roger and his friends made another gallant attempt to board one of the enemy, they failed, a cannon-shot stripping their craft of its free-board, and causing it to sink. Once more he was thrown into the water, and with difficulty was picked up by another of the craft made up of several canoes.
"Better turn our faces to Mexico," said Teotlili, who possessed wonderful vitality. "All is lost here, my lord, while there we can still fight. The ships are too strong for us."
Roger reluctantly admitted the fact, and at once the shrill whistle, the signal for retreat, sounded across the lake. The canoes turned about, and men laboured at the oars to get away from the enemy. But the breeze that day was unfriendly to the Mexicans. It filled the sails of the brigantines, till the vessels heeled with the pressure, while they came through the water with a big foaming wave at their cutwaters. Their pace easily enabled them to come up with the flying canoes, and once again they ploughed through them, sinking them and killing or drowning the occupants. It was a disaster, and Roger was not to escape from it so easily. For Alvarez had never lost sight of him.
"That is the craft," he bellowed in the ear of the commander of the brigantine on which he had taken refuge. "There is their god of air, the Mexican cacique hailing from England. Follow the canoe, and you will win honour for all of us. Cortes will give you promotion and a special reward."
He raced to the bows and stood there staring out at Roger, shaking his fist at him, and aiming a musket at his figure as often as possible.
"We shall be overwhelmed before we can return to the city," said Teotlili, after a little while. "They sail so swiftly that even we cannot get away. I fear that all will perish."
"Then let us strike off this course and make for the northern shore," exclaimed Roger, standing to his full height and surveying the terrifying scene. "We have drifted close in there during the battle, and a half-hour's run will take us to the land. There we can desert the canoes and make overland to the city. Better that than see all perish."
It was, in fact, the only means of saving the occupants of the Mexican fleet, which had put out with such confidence from the city, and at a signal from Teotlili all turned their prows towards the shore. And now, for the very first time on this disastrous day, fortune smiled upon the Mexicans. For it happened that the shore on this northern side of the lake shelved very gradually—so much so that within a little while the fleet was fleeing over a portion of the lake where the water was very shallow. The brigantines came after them at their swiftest pace, till the foremost came to a gradual stop, and remained fixed in the mud. Then the others lay to, firing with their guns.
"Had all gone ashore we should have had them at our mercy," said Roger, in tones of vexation. "But the attempt would be useless now. They can lie off within easy range, and we should lose heavily. Better make the best of our way home."
"And comfort ourselves with the thought that we have made a brave attempt, and that we have aided in the destruction of one of the vessels," answered Teotlili. "My lord must not be down-hearted. These men who have died on the lake to-day have done service to Mexico, for we cannot always win. We have opposed an enemy of whom we were afraid in former times, and we have shown our men that by using strategy we can capture vessels. May the opportunity not occur later for a second attack? Surely it will be possible, with the knowledge gained this day, to organize an attempt on another occasion. We can lay an ambush for the Spaniards on the water, and perhaps take all these brigantines. Let my lord consider that, and think of the future rather than of what has just happened."
The noble laid his hand on Roger's shoulder, for he saw that the latter was troubled and depressed at the defeat suffered by the fleet. And who can blame Roger for feeling so? The whole responsibility of the affair rested on his shoulders, and as he made for the shore he asked himself over and over again whether he had not been rash—mad, indeed—to make such an attempt.
"It might have succeeded," he said at length. "Had the wind not risen we could have surrounded the fleet of brigantines, and they would have been overwhelmed. Yes, the attempt was justifiable, and its non-success is no fault of ours. Circumstances were too strong for us. And, as Teotlili says, the knowledge we have gained will prove useful, for we will lay a trap for the enemy."
His mind at once became occupied with the thought, and so interested was he that he hardly noticed when the canoes reached the land.
"We are as close as we can get now," said Teotlili, touching him on the arm. "We had better wade ashore and run to the city, for their horsemen might attempt to cut us off. Hark! I hear sounds of fighting."
They stood up in the canoe and listened, the noise of some conflict coming to their ears.
"The first attack on the causeways," said Roger. "We need have no fear of the enemy breaking in while we are absent. But we had better run, for, as you say, the Spaniards might send out their horse to cut us off. Let the men keep together."
They stepped into the water, and waded across the mud-flats till they reached dry ground, the Mexicans dragging their canoes after them. Then all set their faces toward Mexico, where they arrived within half an hour. They found each of the three Spanish divisions hotly engaged on the causeways, and hastened at once to aid in the defence, the arrival of Roger being hailed with loud shouts of triumph.
"The cacique has come," the men bellowed to one another. "Here is the fighting chief who has promised to lead us. We will show these Spaniards what we can do."
Men rushed out and picked the young giant up in their arms. Then he was borne to the main causeway, to where the King of Mexico was stationed.
"I am glad that you have come," said the latter, grasping his hand warmly. "I am lost without you. You know these men against whom we fight, and you are able to meet their strategy with methods which are new to us. Come to the edge of the breach and see what is happening."
They walked along the causeway to that part which faced the far shore, and was within a stone's throw of it. A wide breach had been made, on the near side of which the Mexican crossbow-men were posted, while on the far side stood the Spaniards, baulked for the moment, and viciously plying the defenders with a hail of shot and cannon-ball. The attack had commenced, in fact—an attack which was to develop, and which was to be of unparalleled ferocity.
The siege of Mexico had commenced in earnest, for now that the fleet of canoes had been scattered or sent to the bottom, the brigantines closed in on the fair city which lay on the bosom of the lake, till the long, straight causeway stretching north and south prevented further progress. And there the cannon were turned upon the defenders who manned the wide strip of masonry, while from the farther side of the breach other cannon belched forth shot at them. But this was not all. At two other and separate points the Spaniards had made an incursion on to the causeways, all of which led to the city, so that three parties of Mexicans were kept engaged, and their whole force posted on the main portion of the viaduct was exposed to the flanking fire of the brigantines.
Cortes had shown again and again how astute he was. The reader will have gathered already that he was a man of unusual determination, tenacious of his purpose even to the verge of recklessness, for otherwise he would have retired long ago. Indeed, there is little doubt that had he not been there Mexico would have survived. And more than that. Had Cortes been in the full favour of those in authority in Cuba and in Spain, the need for some special effort would have been absent, and his determination to subjugate these people probably less. However, during the whole course of his operations before the city he showed unusual forethought, and conducted the siege in a masterly manner. Indeed, the conduct of this gallant Fernando Cortes from the very beginning marked him out as a commander of unusual power and distinction; for who else would have dared to defy the authorities, to capture those sent out to take the command from him, and suborn their followers, and finally to dictate formal letters to the Regent in Spain, as if he still held the royal command to lead this expedition?
And now that the task of subjugating the people of Mexico faced him he set about the work in a manner which showed the thoughtful, careful leader; for the reader will remember that he had arranged for the building of the brigantines months before, and had meanwhile spent his time and his powers in bringing other native tribes under the sway of Spain, and in gaining allies who would aid in the attack on Mexico. That attack had commenced. Mexico was face to face with a formidable fleet on the lake side, while three of her main causeways were occupied by the mixed forces under Cortes' command.
"They fight fiercely and as if they were certain of defeating us," said the king, as Roger came to his side, and the two stood watching the combatants. "These Spaniards have sent their shot across the gap continually, and our men are struck down. Meanwhile the enemy fill up the gap so that they may cross."
"This is their first day at the work," answered our hero, "and therefore the attackers are fresh and eager. But we will alter that. As for the cannon-shot, the men must be told to build their barricade higher."
A few words from the king set the natives at work, and very soon such a pile of bricks anddébriswas thrown at the edge of the gap that the Spanish shot buried themselves in the wall without doing harm. At the same time their crossbow-men and their musketeers kept up a scathing fire to which the Mexicans made reply.
"They will succeed in filling up the gap," said Roger, after he had watched for a little while, "and we must fall back. But we have a dozen more of the gaps to defend before we come to the city, and shall hope to tire them out. Look! There come the brigantines. We shall have to beat a retreat very soon."
He pointed out into the lake, and there came the brigantines, sailing in toward the city proudly, as if conscious of their victory. They brought to within a long bow-shot, and before coming to the piles which the Mexicans had taken the trouble to drive in all directions close to the causeway, thus showing that their spies had obtained information for them. Then their guns opened, and a murderous discharge belched forth at the defenders of the causeway. The shot crashed against the masonry, or tore lanes through the unfortunate natives, killing and maiming huge numbers. At the same moment the guns on the far side of the gap opened upon the barricade, demolishing the upper parts.
"We must retire at once," said Roger. "We will recall the men to the next wall and make better preparations. Come, let us be going. To remain is to throw our lives away."
There was a shrill whistle, and the natives began to retire, crossing the next gap by means of planks left for that purpose. Then they set to work to raise their barricade with bricks, women and children bringing the latter, while an attempt was made to obtain cover on the lake side.
"We must do something to drive off the brigantines," said Roger, as he stood watching the men at work, and listened to the loud crashes in the distance, the sounds made by the attackers as they filled in the gap. "Come, Philip, or you Peter Tamworth, have you nothing to suggest? How can we keep them at a safer distance? They take us in flank with their fire, and while their ammunition lasts we are helpless. We must drive them off or relinquish the causeway."
This, in fact, was obvious to all, for the brigantines had matters in their own hands. There was nothing to keep them from the outer face of the causeway save the piles which had been driven there, and those could only be placed in the shallower parts, for long timber was not obtainable. Consequently the ships which the crafty Cortes had caused to be built could sail along the causeway ahead of his troops who were attacking it, and could take the Mexicans in flank and in rear. No one could stand there against their shot. No wonder that the king of Mexico and Teotlili looked at Roger in dismay, and that the latter stood to his full height, looking back along the causeway with a frown on his sunburned face.
"If they were in the ocean——" commenced Peter, shuffling from one leg to the other, for the presence of royalty always unsettled him, and he was beginning to have a huge respect for Roger.
"The brigantines, you mean? But they are here, in the lake. What then?"
"If they were at sea, I should try a plan to turn them out," said Peter, somewhat abashed. "They would fly if there was fire, and, master Roger, there might be fire here. We could float a canoe, one of the big ones, down upon them, and that would send them running."
"And they are close enough to be taken before they could get clear," burst in Philip. "In the confusion some might become entangled, and then——"
"We would send our canoes against them," exclaimed Roger. "'Tis a grand idea, and we will see what can be done. I will speak to Teotlili."
"We have resin here in abundance," said the latter, when the question was put to him, "and there are other inflammable matters. The plan may well be tried, and may succeed at first. But they will not be caught twice. Later on the houses will protect us."
He went off at once to make arrangements, and his men worked with such energy that when the Spaniards had contrived to fill in the far gap, and were preparing to advance again, a couple of craft composed of three canoes lashed together, lay in recesses beneath the causeway, their boards piled high with resin and other matters.
"And now comes the question of who is to take command," said Roger. "These natives are so terrified at the sound of the cannon that they will hardly fill the post. I will gladly take one canoe."
"And I a second," burst in Philip. "But you should not go, Roger, if you will forgive my saying so. You are the commander here. The king and all look to you, and already you have had one narrow escape. You are too valuable to the defence, and should protect your life as long as possible. I will go for one."
"And by your leave I will sail the second," exclaimed Peter, all aglow at the prospect. "There is little to do. We must push out, and pole along gently. Then, as we get to close quarters, we will fire the mass and leap overboard."
"Then it shall be arranged as you say. I will stay behind and will lead the attack. It is already getting dusk, and perhaps, if we delay a little, you will be able to get out to the brigantines without being seen. If that is the case we may do them some damage. I will have men armed with the crossbow in canoes, ready to take advantage of the confusion. Go to your places and prepare. I will send to you when the moment comes."
He dismissed them with a nod, and went to the barricade erected on the causeway. Like that at the last gap, it consisted of sun-dried bricks, and was so thick that it offered an effective resistance to the cannon-shot of the enemy. On its landward side there was a gaping chasm where the causeway had been entirely removed, and this the enemy now proceeded to fill, just as they had done in the case of the other one. Thanks to the huge amount of native labour which their allies provided, there was no difficulty about the matter, and for material there was the stone and bricks from the houses and forts built at the extreme land end of the viaduct. Already the Spanish allies had levelled these, and now they came in their thousands, each carrying a boulder, a beam, or some dozen bricks, which they threw into the gap. While they worked, the soldiers kept up a furious fire against the barricade beyond, while their crossbow-men sent shafts humming through the air. Then the brigantines hove up the stone anchors which each had cast, and poling higher up, dropped anchor in a position which gave them a clear and close range.
"Let the crossbow-men alone stand behind the barricade and pick off the enemy and hamper the work of filling in the ditch," cried Roger, calling Teotlili's attention. "The others are to throw themselves on their faces, and in that way they will escape the shot from the brigantines."
The warning came none too soon, for hardly had he spoken, and the natives obeyed the command of the noble, than the ships opened fire, and a hail of small shot and cannon-balls struck the side of the causeway and plunged over it. Some struck the protection of bricks thrown up on that side, and dashed the bricks over on to the defenders. But none were seriously hurt, while all escaped the bullets. A shout of derision arose, the Mexicans whistling and screaming aloud with delight.
"'Tis the first time that they have escaped so easily," said Teotlili. "My lord is full of methods to circumvent the enemy. A little while ago we stood bunched close together and waited death. These cruel guns slew us by tens and twenties, and cut deep lines in our ranks. We were robbed of our strength, and could not move hand or foot to escape; but now we are learning. It is possible to avoid death, and to save our lives for better work. Ah! the crash of the explosion is stunning. Even now I start and feel that I must fall."
"After all there is little more than the noise to alarm one," said Roger with a smile, showing wonderful coolness, which did not escape the Mexican noble. "Of course a ball might come and kill one while one crouched; but the wall makes their aim difficult, while those in front can do nothing. That was close, Teotlili. A little to the right and it would have mattered little to you or to me how the siege went."
"It would always matter," was the stern answer. "Even were I killed I think that I should still trouble. I could never sleep the long sleep knowing that these strange men were killing and hunting my countrymen. The place and the people are dear to me, my lord. I live for them only."
"And you would die for them cheerfully?" asked Roger.
"Surely I would. I would gladly suffer death on the swords of these men so that my king might escape. But listen, Roger. Should it happen that our king is slain, you will take the post? Promise me that? All are willing that you should succeed him, for without a leader we should be easily defeated. Promise me?"
The noble turned to Roger and looked him eagerly in the face, while Roger watched the brigantines. He their king! He, a simple crossbow-man but a few weeks ago, to be asked to accept such a post! It was beyond belief! Then he reflected on the faith which these simple people had in him, and thought of the times.
"I will act as king till the siege is raised, or till we are defeated," he answered; "that is, if the present king be killed, which God forbid. Till then I will remain as your cacique, and will lead the fighting men. But we must look to the defence. It gets dusk. A little while and our fire canoes may be of service."
He crept to the barricade, and looked across at the Spaniards. They were still maintaining a fierce fire with their guns, though they had withdrawn the weapons to a safer distance; for the crossbow-men on the Mexican side had already made a vast impression, and had taught the enemy the advisability of using discretion. As for their own musketeers and crossbow-men, they had retired altogether. Only the native allies came within range, carrying their burdens, and amongst their ranks the Mexican shafts created havoc.
"But we do not stop them," reflected Roger; "there are so many of them that the death of a few hundred seems not to matter. The gap will soon be filled; by then it will be dusk."
He waited eagerly, noting that the gap was now practically bridged across, though there still remained a strip close under the barricade which the allies had not yet reached.
"Have planks ready at hand," he said, suddenly turning to Teotlili, who was ever at his elbow. "Ah, Tamba, take charge of one and be ready. When I give the signal, leap the barricade and place the beam in position. Then let all the spearmen and those who have swords follow me. We will teach these invaders a lesson."
It was anxious work waiting there, with the guns of the brigantine playing on the causeway, and their shot swishing overhead. But Roger would not be hurried. The ditch on the far side was not yet filled, and it was still too light. Ten minutes would make a difference, he told himself, and though his inclination was to shout now without further delay, and throw his men on the enemy, he held back, showing thereby the qualities possessed by few leaders. He waited till the time had actually arrived. Then his messenger flew to Philip and to Peter, and very soon two dark objects, each propelled by a couple of long poles wielded by the Englishmen and by a single native helper, emerged from the causeway from one of the numerous archways, and went swiftly towards the brigantines. At first their sudden presence caused no comment from the enemy; for all through the contest canoes had darted from the recesses, and efforts had been made, sometimes with success, to pull down the native allies from the farther side of the gap with the hooks which were attached to poles. It was therefore not until the larger craft had shot out from the causeway and moved some little way towards the brigantines that the attention of the Spaniards was attracted to them. Then there was a shout.
"Some of the natives seeking death," shouted one of the captains, derisively. "Leave them to the muskets or to our pikes; or better, heave a stone into them as they come alongside."
"What if they are dangerous? I've seen and had to fly from simpler craft before," answered an old seaman, with a growl. "What if they're filled with things that will take fire? What if these craft are fire-craft sent to destroy us?"
The suggestion caused the captain to open his mouth, and he went along the deck at a run to where the gunners stood.
"Train your pieces on them," he shouted in his excitement. "They are fire-ships, and we shall be burned. Stop them with a shot. Come! Move aside and let me take the task in hand."
They threw themselves on the cannon, while the alarm spread to the other vessels. Meanwhile Philip and Peter poled for their lives, sending the craft swiftly across the water. And as they poled Roger and the defenders watched them eagerly.
"They have not yet noticed the commotion on the far side of the gap," he said to Teotlili. "But they will see that there is something wrong soon, and then——"
"They see now, my lord. Listen to their shouts. And they are turning their guns away from us to the canoes. Will they hit them?"
"More likely to strike friend than foe," was the reassuring answer. "Ah! That shot would have sunk a single canoe with the wash it caused. Philip is lighting up."
It was still sufficiently light to enable those on the causeway to see what was passing, and Roger distinctly noticed Philip stand erect, and lift his pole into the canoe. Then there was a glow from the smouldering match he carried, followed by a burst of smoke, and then by a leaping flame which seemed to spread all over the craft. No! Not all over, for there was Philip at the stern, surrounded by flame, it seemed, and still poling towards the enemy. As for Peter, a shot fired from the nearest brigantine had struck the water within a foot of him, and as Roger had said, had well-nigh swamped his frail boat. However, he was unhurt, and following Philip's example, struck his match and then poled the flaming craft towards the brigantines. Fierce shouts resounded on every side, while aboard the brigantines there was the utmost confusion. Men raced up and down the decks, while the crews were called to the anchors. Some endeavoured to handle the pieces. But none were fashioned to be rapidly depressed, and so it happened that not a single shot struck the fire-craft. Nor did those who held the muskets help in the matter, for they too were taken with a panic. They threw down their weapons and helped at the anchor, or seized the long poles and endeavoured to push the vessel away into the lake.
Thud! The canoe in which stood Philip struck the side of the nearest brigantine, and Roger saw the young Englishman coolly grapple the rail with the hook with which his pole was armed. Then he beckoned to the native, and handing him the pole, drew his sword. In another moment he had sprung aboard, and the last that Roger saw of him he was slashing furiously at the enemy, while the native, clinging to the fire-craft till he was scorched, kept it close to the enemy's vessel till it had caught fire. Then he called loudly to Philip, and waiting till the latter had leaped into the water, disappeared in the same himself. Peter had equal luck, and showed the same pluck and determination. Indeed, within five minutes two of the brigantines were in flames from end to end, for they were constructed of a highly inflammable wood, while their crews were plunging overboard in frantic alarm. As for the others, they cut away from their anchorage and poled into deep water, their crews aghast at the boldness and the success of the Mexicans. On the far side of the gap the Spaniards could hardly believe their eyes. They stared at the blazing vessels, forgetting their own particular portion of the conflict. It was an opportunity, and Roger seized upon it.
"The plank, Tamba," he shouted. "Now follow, every one, and sweep them from the causeway."
He leaped upon the top of the barricade, his tall figure standing out finely against the glare of the blazing vessels. Then, as Tamba placed the plank in position, he ran across it, and threw himself alone upon the Spaniards.
"Ah! A sortie! The dog of an English giant!" shouted their leader, who happened to be nearest. "Rally men! To the gap! Hold the causeway!"
His sword leaped to the front, and he made a thrust at Roger, which might well have transfixed him. But Roger had not experienced all this fighting for nothing. He put the thrust aside with a swift movement, and returned the blow with a terrific cut which fell full upon the Spaniard's helmet. There was the noise of rending steel, the Spaniard gasped and let his sword fall with a clatter. Then he pitched forward on to the causeway, and happening to tumble into a portion of the gap which had been only partially filled, and which sloped steeply, he slid, an inert mass, down the slope, and disappeared in the lake.
"Rally! Rally! Men of Mexico. Your leader is here. Forward, and drive the enemy! Forward, till we reach their camp!"
It was Teotlili who took up the shout, and voiced it to the pitch of his lungs. Not that the Mexicans needed encouragement, for their excitement was great, and their spirits raised to the utmost pitch by the success of the fire-ships. They shouted lustily, and then, to the accompaniment of shouts and shrill whistles came over the barricade like a swarm of bees, and hurled themselves against the Spaniards. And now numbers and the suddenness of the sortie told in their favour; for whereas formerly those armed with the native sword had been practically helpless in the face of the Spanish swordsmen, now the rush carried all before the Mexicans. The Spaniards broke and fled, Roger and his men in hot pursuit.
"To their camp! To their camp!" he shouted. Then seeing Teotlili, he urged his way toward him, the Mexicans making a path at once.
"The guns and the ammunition," he said. "Tell off men to take them into the city. They will be useful. We must have them."
He went on at a run till he and his men were in the camp, which had been formed close to the edge of the causeway. But here the enemy rallied, while a strong force came to their aid. It was time to retire, and Roger whistled. Then he waved his arm.
"Back to the barricade," he shouted. "Run! Run!"
The retirement was carried out swiftly, so swiftly, in fact, that the Spaniards were dumfounded. They were preparing to hold their camp and administer punishment, when suddenly the attackers disappeared as quickly as they had come, carrying with them two cannon and a small supply of ammunition.
"'Tis the English dog's leading," said Cortes, with a growl, as he looked out at the lake and watched the blazing vessels. "Well is it for us that I had a fleet constructed. This man must be slain. Would that I had hanged him that very night instead of keeping him till the morrow. And that led to the freedom of all his friends. They say these Englishmen are dogged fighters, who battle with their heads as well as with their arms. We shall see, we shall see. But if I catch them——!"
No doubt he would have hanged them at once, and there was much cause for his vexation. Indeed, when the tale of the sortie was completed, and his losses known, the leader of the invaders ground his teeth with anger.
"But it will not occur again," he said to himself. "There will be no more fire-ships, and no more sorties. I will double the guards, while the brigantines will never anchor. Thus they will be able to slip away on the instant."
Roger and the Mexicans had indeed retrieved their defeat of the morning, and had caused great loss to the enemy; for they had destroyed three of the brigantines, and had killed many of the Spanish soldiers and sailors, a loss which Fernando Cortes could not easily replace. But it could not always be so, as they discovered in the course of the next few weeks; for the besiegers attacked in three separate parties every day, and the causeways rang with the sound of strife. Gaps which had been diligently constructed were filled in one by one, while, finding that the enemy repaired their losses and remade the gaps during the night, there being ample labour, Cortes caused his men to camp on the ground they had won, till that portion of the causeways which had fallen to the three parties presented a curious scene. Tiny huts were constructed along them, where the enemy lived.
By now another enemy was attacking the besieged. Starvation stared them in the face, for the brigantines prevented a fresh supply of provisions from being brought to the city. The water in the tanks was very low, and pestilence, the accompaniment of every siege and every campaign, stalked through the city. Men and women and children died by the score, till there were none to bury them. But still the gallant resistance was continued.
"Not till the city is in ruins and the last man slain shall we give way," said Teotlili. "In these matters the priests rule the king, and that is their decision. If it were not so, I should say the same. What sort of life awaits us if we are beaten and live? Slavery, and torture. Yes, Tamba has told me the tale of Cuba, and that is what will happen here. These foolish native allies who have gone over to the Spaniards are but helping in their own ruin, for they, too, will be trampled underfoot. They will be hewers of wood and drawers of water to these men who attack us. We will die at our posts. That is our last word."
The decision was, in fact, adhered to firmly, though, as the siege closed in and want and pestilence did its work, Cortes endeavoured time and again to alter it, and to induce the Mexicans to capitulate. Nothing but defeat of the last man would end the struggle, and therefore he set his parties to their task again. A huge effort was made to complete the junction of the three divisions, and we shall see how Cortes fared, and how the Mexicans struggled to prevent the junction.
It was early morning, and a brilliant sun threw slanting rays across the dancing waters of the great lake and across the picturesque buildings of the fairy-like city of Mexico. From the summits of a hundred sacrificial towers rose the smoke of the eternal fires, while the figures of the hateful priests stood out prominently. It was the dawn of a day likely to be momentous in the history of Spain and of Mexico; for Cortes was about to make his biggest attempt to conquer. Difficulties and danger but drew him on to further exertions, and increased opposition but whetted his appetite for conquest. This day must see the junction of his two divisions, for the troops under Cristoval de Olid had already joined with the force under Sandoval, and both occupied the camp of the causeway, the causeway leading directly north for more than a league into the heart of the city.
The reader has read of the fighting there, and a few words will relate the fortunes of that other division which had set out from Tlacuba, under the command of Alvarado. Like the others, it had advanced for more than a league, filling gaps continuously, and camping on the ground which it had won, for the simple reason that a night saw all its work repaired by the Mexicans. It had advanced, and, like the men under Cortes, it had met with disaster on one occasion; for the Mexicans, instructed by their English cacique, had laid an ambush for them, had lured them on, and then had surrounded them, capturing a few of the Spaniards alive, whom they had ruthlessly sacrificed, though Roger did his utmost to prevent the act. But they had not reached the market square yet, and had not come into touch with their comrades.
As for the brigantines, they had learned to be wary, and their commanders had gradually driven the canoes from the lake, had found huge water streets capable of containing them, and had in this manner reached both sides of the causeways, and the interior of some parts of the city. Everything, therefore, was ripe for a junction, and the king of Mexico, with Roger, Teotlili, and a score of his nobles and caciques, stood on the summit of the huge tower dedicated to the god of war, and looked out on this early morning awaiting the long-expected attack.
"Who would think that there was war?" said Roger, as he stepped to the very edge of the giddy height, just as he had done on that eventful morning when he and Tamba were alone with Teotlili, wondering whether it was to be peace or the reverse. "The city is unharmed, and nothing speaks of war save the broken causeways and the camps of the enemy. A pity it is that men cannot live in peace."
"A pity indeed," answered Teotlili, gloomily. "The morning is fair, and the city never looked better. But go into the houses and into the streets and there you will see much that speaks of war. Our people die by the hundred, and their bodies lie unburied. It is war, friend Roger, and this day will see a more bitter struggle than has hitherto taken place. Our spies have given us certain information. I trust that we are prepared. There is nothing that we have not discussed?"
"Nothing. We have talked through the night, and now the orders have been sent to the people. We must hope for success. Look now at the camps. There is a stir there. The Spaniards are moving."
"And there are the horses. The men are mounting. The attack will commence before the hour is gone. See, my lord, those at Tlacuba are prepared also."
From the elevation of this gigantic temple it was possible to see every corner of the city and of the surrounding lake, and there spread out below in the sunlight were the armies of the invaders, thousands upon thousands of native allies, and the handful of truly gallant and steadfast Spaniards who formed but a tiny nucleus. And they were moving forward. Mass had been attended with due reverence, and the two forces were advancing to the attack, hoping to unite in the market square. In the city every house was occupied. Thousands of bowmen and men armed with the new and more effective weapon introduced by Roger lay concealed on the terraces, in the gardens, and in every possible nook. The summit of every tower was crowded, bricks and stones were held in readiness to be hurled down on the attackers, while in the streets were thousands, all with complete instructions.
"Their boldness shall be their undoing," said the king. "We will follow the advice of Roger the cacique to the very letter, and this morn shall see a turn in the tide of our fortunes. Let all who have commands now go to them."
There was solemn leave-taking, and then Roger and his friends parted. An hour later the clash of arms was heard, while the city rang with the thunder of cannon and with the crash of musketry. The Spaniards forced their way along the causeways, while the brigantines poled along the canals, firing into the flanks. Then Cortes himself advanced, and divided his men into three parties.
"To the market square," he said, "and see that none penetrates beyond a gap till it is filled. Now forward, in the name of Our Lady."
At the command Spaniards and allies pressed on into the city, fighting every step of the way. Bolts were rained upon them from the houses, and every building meant an attack, a fierce resistance, and then victory. That accomplished, the next house called for the same efforts, while the native allies who followed destroyed the building just captured, levelling it to the ground. And so for many hours the conflict continued, the Mexicans resisting fiercely, and yet giving way steadily as if by preconceived design, while on the summit of the tower stood their king, his eyes on them, watching how they carried out his orders.
"We have them in our hands," he suddenly cried, with a shout of joy. "Look, all, and see the gap which has been passed. It has not been filled. Our people retire hastily, and lure the enemy on. They hear the shouts and the cannon of their friends, and they long to reach the market square first. They are rushing forward in the excitement, and they are neglecting to fill the breaches. In a little while we will turn. But let them advance farther in. Let the city close about them, and then——!"
He became almost inarticulate, so great was his enthusiasm. He leaned over the edge of the tower, watching the conflict as if his life depended upon it. And every second some ejaculation escaped his lips. His feet fidgeted. He would have rushed below had that been possible.
"My lord distresses himself," said one of the priests, advancing to his side, and displaying the red robes of the chief of his profession. "This day will go well for us. That is the answer of the war god. The English cacique, whom we once almost sacrificed, will be the saviour of our city and of the nation. See him there. He fights as one who values his life less than the honour of victory."
"He is a noble youth and a great leader," was the answer, "and his reward shall be great. Listen, and mark my words. This giant who came so strangely amongst us will stand by us to the end—if the end should unhappily come."
"He will die if need be," was the answer.
"And if resistance becomes no longer possible he will fly."
"That is due to him," replied the priest. "He is not of our blood. He came as a prisoner, and we treated him harshly. He has shown devotion to us, and if our cause be lost it will be right that he and his comrades should fly. They have homes of their own, no doubt. They have a right to return to them."
"And we owe them all. This Roger the cacique is the heart of the defence. His reward should be certain. Cannot you find this treasure and hand it to him now, so that it may be safe in his keeping?"
"Impossible," was the short answer. "He deserves all and more than we possess, that I acknowledge freely. But I cannot disclose its whereabouts till the disc comes to my hand. Would that I had never made the error of sending it away. But the mistake was made, and nothing but the return of the disc can set the matter right. With that before me I can read the secret, and hand this reward to the cacique. If it does not come, he must fly, rich in the memory of the gallantry he has shown."
It was useless to argue further, and the king, who, like his predecessors, was completely in the hands of the priesthood, was compelled to be satisfied with the assurance he had received. If the disc was discovered, then this Roger de Luce, for whom he had conceived a great affection, would receive reward, would have his pick of gold and gems which, to a Mexican, were of little or no value, but which to these white men were better than life itself, else why should the Spaniards fight so fiercely for their possession, sacrificing thereby so many thousands of innocent people, and bringing misery into so many homes?
But it was no time for soliloquizing, for down in the streets below the turmoil of the battle rose even louder. Flushed with their success the enemy were pushing forward, and were now within a little way of the rendezvous, where the two forces were to meet. They could hear one another's cannon, and even their comrades' shouts. They were spurred to even greater efforts, and forgetting the caution which their leader had impressed upon them they raced on, forgetful of the chasms left gaping behind, of the thousands of Mexicans concealed beneath the streets and in the side canals, forgetful of all save the mad desire to conquer, to end the siege, to reach this market square, than which there was none so fine in the whole of Spain, or even in Europe, and reach the goal before their comrades. It was a race, and a costly one it proved.
"The time has come. The cage door should be shut," said the king of Mexico, solemnly. "There is Roger the cacique. I see him plainly, and he waves to me. I will sound the signal which will set the dogs loose on them, and will drive them from the city."
He raised a huge horn to his lips and took in a deep breath. Then he sounded a long, deep, mournful note, which penetrated to every corner. Once more he sent it floating across the city. Then he threw the horn down, and raced to the streets below; for this king was a gallant young fellow, kind and gentle when not roused, but a plucky fighter, possessed of unusual courage.
What a change there was! The sound of the horn had roused the Mexicans to a frenzy, for it was a well-known signal, and signified some special danger threatening their king, and the people of this city, one and all, would gladly have died on his behalf. But on this particular day it meant more. It meant that a well-thought-out plan was to be accomplished. That this retreat, so carefully managed, was, after all, but a part of the plan, and that now that its purpose was accomplished, and the enemy lured into the city, the time had come to turn upon them. Never before had the Spaniards heard such demoniacal shouts, such whistling, and such terrible calls. The air was filled with them, while from every side swarmed Mexicans, who rushed in upon the swords, eager to die, eager to give their lives if only they could strike one blow for king and city. But their rush was organized. A leader sprang before each party. Every street had its force and its commander, while in the very centre the gigantic figure of the white cacique of Roger the Bold led the lines of fighters, hurled himself with resistless valour into the ranks of the enemy, and bore them back alone. No wonder that the Mexicans went mad, that the Spaniards quailed, and rushed back towards their camp, and that the fatal gap, which had not been filled by one of the parties, proved a death-trap to the men. Even Cortes was well-nigh taken, while huge numbers of allies and Spaniards were killed. Indeed, quite sixty of the invaders fell captive or died—a serious loss to Cortes.
Never before had the enemy received such treatment. They had seen fighting in other parts, and had met the natives of Cuba. But that was child's play to these Mexican fights, where men swarmed out in their thousands, and with the help of their English allies fell upon them. Even their arms had improved during the siege. Numbers carried the crossbow, while spearmen in serried ranks bore down upon the horsemen and the soldiers armed with sword and buckler. And if that were not enough to cause defeat, the canoes which the commanders of the brigantines imagined that they had driven from the lake appeared from a thousand hiding-places, and advancing along the sides of the causeways, galled the retreating armies with their shafts, and dragged men into the water with their long poles and hooks. Could the tale of that eventful day be told, it would include a hundred and more dread single combats fought in the water, would describe how Spaniards, loaded with their armour, fell gasping with their exertions down the slope of the causeway, hooked from their feet by the poles, and then were seized by a dozen frenzied individuals, who threw themselves in a body upon each one, bearing him to the bed of the lake, and holding the unhappy wretch there till he was drowned. But there was worse to follow. The enemy had hardly reached their camp, and crept behind their defences there, when the bulk of the population returned to the city, and there commenced a scene of unparalleled ferocity. They dragged their captives to the huge tower dedicated to the god of war, and drove them to the summit with kicks and buffets. Then they decked them in feathers, and by main force caused them to dance before the idol, and in the sight of their miserable comrades in the camps below. After that came the gruesome sacrifice—a sacrifice which no efforts of Roger could put a stop to.
"They are clean out of hand, these Mexicans," he said with a groan to Philip, as they sat in their quarters below. "I can do nothing with them now, for they are mad. Their superstition is stronger than any belief that they have in me, and these priests control them. It is hateful to think that the wretched prisoners are being sacrificed."
"It makes the blood run cold," agreed Philip, with a shudder. "The death is a cruel one, and you should know something of the agonies endured by these unhappy prisoners. But let it be a warning to Cortes. He came here of his own free will. He and his men have attacked people who were disposed to be friendly, and this is their reward. They came hoping for gold and treasure, and with the wish to stop these human sacrifices. What have they accomplished? Their gold caused the death of numbers in that first retreat, and now, through their persistence, more victims are offered up, while thousands are dying deaths which are far worse and far more miserable than is that suffered on the altar. Pah! Though I hate sacrifice, and know that these enemies long to stop it, I know also that they are hypocrites, that they would sacrifice you and me and all of us this very day if we were captured. We should swing at the end of the causeway."
There was a grunt of assent from Peter Tamworth, while Roger was bound to agree. After all, he thought, what were the lives of the few who had been sacrificed since the coming of Cortes, compared with the lives, the happiness of the thousands perishing in Mexico.
"The fight will wane," he said, "but the net will not be opened; it will close in more tightly, until the end comes. Cortes will never give way."
Nor did our hero prove wrong in this surmise, for for many days the siege languished. Fighting still continued, but it was half-hearted. Meanwhile the huge success attained by the Mexicans brought numbers of vacillating adherents to their side, while thousands of the native allies left the army gathered under the banner of Castile. It was a turn in the fortunes of Fernando Cortes, and many another leader would have given way. But this redoubtable general was a diplomatist and a sagacious tactician as well. He rallied the natives to his banner again, and then once more pushed on with the attack. When seventy-four days had passed Fernando Cortes was in possession of more than seven-eighths of the city. In the remaining portion were gathered the survivors of the gallant defence.
Tall and gaunt, looking more like a slim ghost than the Roger of this story, our hero waited for the end, determined to see the siege to its bitter point. For days he had eaten nothing but a few herbs gathered from odd crevices by the faithful Tamba, while a fish sometimes added to his repast. Ten of his comrades were dead. The remainder were skeletons, too weak almost to walk, only able to fight when pressed by dire necessity. All were parched with thirst. As for the people of the unfortunate city, they had died literally in their tens of thousands. The streets were filled by their unburied bodies; they lay in the courtyards, in the temple squares, and in their houses, piled thickly together. Those who survived walked listlessly here and there, or squatted on the ground, too weak to move. They waited for the very last—for the coming of the Spaniards and of their allies.
"Nothing can save them," said Roger, huskily. "These native allies slaughter the poor people like sheep, and they are so weak that they make no resistance. It is terrible! Would that the priests would allow the king to surrender. But they will not do that. We shall fight to the bitter end, and then there are canoes to take us away. Remember and warn all our comrades. When the horn sounds they are to rush to the stage at the back of the palace, and there embark. We have the Spanish guns there, and just sufficient ammunition for one discharge; perhaps we shall succeed in getting off. Now let us go to our positions. This, surely, must be the last day of all."
An hour later the Spaniards swarmed into the city, and a desperate encounter commenced, the native allies bursting into the houses and killing those who were helpless. Others who still had strength and determination to fight retreated to the palace, showing a firm face to the enemy. But even they at length became demoralized, and soon the scene was one of confusion. Natives hunted for Mexicans on every side. Friends and enemies were mixed together, when Roger and his party, all separated by now, made the best of their way towards the landing-stage. Suddenly our hero gave expression to a startled cry.
"Alvarez!" he exclaimed in a whisper. "The traitor, and by himself! He is seeking for some one and——ah, there is the priest! The artful rogue has made him captive."
He crouched in the hollow existing between two of the buildings, and stared out at the intruders. And thanks to his quickness he escaped observation, the Spaniard passing some yards away, while following him were five of the native allies, in whose charge walked the chief priest, his red robe in tatters. They passed in through the palace gate, and were lost to view.
"Gone in search of treasure," thought Roger. "Shall I follow, or make for the stage?"
He hesitated, fearing that if he were to delay the canoes might leave without him. He listened to the distant shouts and to the cries of the combatants, for on every side small parties of famished Mexicans were offering a last resistance to the enemy. Then he sprang to his feet and ran after the Spaniard.
"No," he thought; "I have come so far, and have put up with so much, that I will not sacrifice all at the last for fear of being left behind. I will follow, and perhaps I may be successful. I wish that Phil or Peter, or even Tamba, were here to give me their help."
Darting across the street he passed through the gate and traversed a courtyard. At the exit he paused and suddenly crouched to the ground. Then he crawled forward on hands and knees, and gained some shrubs in the garden. Alvarez was again in sight, and the priest and his captors led the advance.
"This is the garden," Alvarez was saying. "Now, dog with the red robe, you who have slain so many of my comrades, lead the way to the treasure. Here is the disc. Lead swiftly, for I would have none else see me."
He looked round furtively, fearful that his comrades should discover his deceit and wrest the treasure from him. Then he stalked to the side of the priest, tore the disc from the very same leather pouch in which Roger had kept it, and thrust it in front of his face.
"Come," he said, with an oath, looking about him with frightened eyes. "Move! Let your wits work swiftly. This holds the secret. Fernando Cortes knew that, and you also. I have learned that you are the only man who can read that secret. Read, then, and quickly, or I will treat you as you have served those others."
He showed his teeth, while the hand which held the disc shook, so great was his anxiety. As for the priest, he had no alternative. A dagger was in the Spaniard's other hand, while the natives who held him looked as though they would slaughter him with glee. He trembled, for this man who had killed so many wretched victims feared to die himself. He trembled, stretched out his hand for the disc, and then suddenly hesitated. Courage came to him in this terrible position, and he realized that if he showed the whereabouts of the treasure, he would be slaughtered as surely as if he refused. And these Spaniards lived and fought for gold and jewels. If he refused, then they would have gained nothing but their conquest of the city, and besides—"It was promised to the gallant white chief who led us and gave us his counsel," he thought. "It belongs to him, and if he cannot take it away, then it shall lie hidden where it is now. No; I will die now. Let this wretch slay me, and have done."