to Otomie, princess of the Otomie, the daughter of Montezuma my lord, for so long as her life shall endure.  I swear to attempt no escape from these shores.  I swear to renounce my father and my mother, and the land where I was born, and to cling to this land of my new birth; and this my oath shall endure till the volcan Popo ceases to vomit smoke and fire, till there is no king in Tenoctitlan, till no priest serves the altars of the gods, and the people of Anahuac are no more a people.”

‘Do you swear these things, one and all?’

‘One and all I swear them,’ I answered because I must, though there was much in the oath that I liked little enough.  And yet mark how strangely things came to pass.  Within fifteen years from that night the volcan Popo had ceased to vomit smoke and fire, the kings had ceased to reign in Tenoctitlan, the priests had ceased to serve the altars of the gods, the people of Anahuac were no more a people, and my vow was null and void.  Yet the priests who framed this form chose these things as examples of what was immortal!

When I had sworn Guatemoc came forward and embraced me, saying:  ’Welcome, Teule, my brother in blood and heart.  Now you are one of us, and we look to you for help and counsel.  Come, be seated by me.’

I looked towards Cuitlahua doubtfully, but he smiled graciously, and said:  ’Teule, your trial is over.  We have accepted you, and you have sworn the solemn oath of brotherhood, to break which is to die horribly in this world, and to be tortured through eternity by demons in the next.  Forget all that may have been said in the hour of your weighing, for the balance is in your favour, and be sure that if you give us no cause to doubt you, you shall find none to doubt us.  Now as the husband of Otomie, you are a lord among the lords, having honour and great possessions, and as such be seated by your brother Guatemoc, and join our council.’

I did as he bade me, and Otomie withdrew from our presence.  Then Cuitlahua spoke again, no longer of me and my matters, but of the urgent affairs of state.  He spoke in slow words and weighty, and more than once his voice broke in his sorrow.  He told of the grievous misfortunes that had overcome the country, of the death of hundreds of its bravest warriors, of the slaughter of the priests and soldiers that day on the teocalli, and the desecration of his nation’s gods.  What was to be done in this extremity? he asked.  Montezuma lay dying, a prisoner in the camp of the Teules, and the fire that he had nursed with his breath devoured the land.  No efforts of theirs could break the iron strength of these white devils, armed as they were with strange and terrible weapons.  Day by day disaster overtook the arms of the Aztecs.  What wisdom had they now that the protecting gods were shattered in their very shrines, when the altars ran red with the blood of their ministering priests, when the oracles were dumb or answered only in the accents of despair?