subordinate, and demanded the apprehension of the cacique to answer for the slaughter of their inoffensive countrymen. Montezuma, of course, immediately disavowed the treason and ordered the arrest of the Governor; but Cortéz would not receive an apology or verbal reparation of the injury,—although he professed to believe the exculpation of Montezuma himself,—unless that sovereign would restore the Spaniard's confidence in his fidelity by quitting his palace and changing his residence to the quarters of the invaders!
This was, indeed, an unexpected blow. It was one of those strokes of unparalleled boldness which paralyzed their victim by sheer amazement. After considerable discussion and useless appeals, the entrapped Emperor tamely submitted to the surprising demand, for he saw, in the resolved faces of his armed and steel-clad foes, that resistance was useless, if he attempted to save his own life, with the small and unprepared forces that were at hand.
For a while the most ceremonious respect was paid by the conqueror and his men to their royal prisoner, who, under strict surveillance, maintained his usual courtly pomp, and performed all the functions of Emperor. But Cortéz soon became his master. The will of an effeminate king was no match for the indomitable courage, effrontery and genius of the Spanish knight. The offending cacique of Cempoalla was burned alive, either to glut his vengeance or inspire dread; and when the traitor endeavored to compromise Montezuma in his crime, fetters were placed for an hour on the limbs of the imprisoned sovereign. Every day the disgraced Emperor became, more and more, the mere minister of Cortéz. He was forced to discountenance publicly those who murmured at his confinement, or to arrest the leading conspirators for his deliverance. He granted a province to the Castilian crown and swore allegiance to it. He collected the tribute and revenue from dependant cities or districts in the name of the Spanish king; and, at last, struck a blow even at his hereditary and superstitious faith by ordering the great Teocalli to be purged of its human gore and the erection of an altar on its summit, on which, before the cross and the images of the Virgin and her Son, the Christian mass might be celebrated in the presence of the Aztec multitude.
It was at this moment, when Cortéz tried the national nerve most daringly by interfering with the religious superstitions of a dissatisfied town, and when every symptom of a general rebellion
