Now from that night
till the dreadful hour of sacrifice, no kiss or tender word passed
between me and the princess of the Otomie. And yet our friendship and
affection grew daily, for we talked much together, and I sought to turn
her heart to the true King of Heaven. But this was not easy, for like
her father Montezuma, Otomie clung to the gods of her people, though
she hated the priests, and save when the victims were the foes of her
country, shrank from the rites of human sacrifice, which she said were
instituted by the pabas, since in the early days there were no men
offered on the altars of the gods, but flowers only. Daily it grew and
ripened till, although I scarcely knew it, at length in my heart, after
Lily, I loved her better than anyone on earth. As for the other women,
though they were gentle and beautiful, I soon learned to hate them.
Still I feasted and revelled with them, partly since I must, or bring
them to a miserable death because they failed to please me, and partly
that I might drown my terrors in drink and pleasure, for let it be
remembered that the days left to me on earth were few, and the awful end
drew near.
The day following the celebration of my marriage was that of the
shameless massacre of six hundred of the Aztec nobles by the order of
the hidalgo Alvarado, whom Cortes had left in command of the Spaniards.
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