But I took no heed even when their insults pierced me like
arrows, for though many of the Aztecs were my friends and I hated
the Spaniards, it was a shameful thing that a Christian man should be
warring on the side of cannibals who made human sacrifice. I took no
heed, since always I was seeking for my foe de Garcia. He was there I
knew, for I saw him many times, but I could never come at him. Indeed,
if I watched for him he also watched for me, but with another purpose,
to avoid me. For now as of old de Garcia feared me, now as of old he
believed that I should bring his death upon him.
It was the custom of warriors in the opposing armies to send challenges
to single combat, one to another, and many such duels were fought in
the sight of all, safe conduct being given to the combatants and their
seconds. Upon a day, despairing of meeting him face to face in battle,
I sent a challenge to de Garcia by a herald, under his false name of
Sarceda. In an hour the herald returned with this message written on
paper in Spanish:
'Christian men do not fight duels with renegade heathen dogs, white
worshippers of devils and eaters of human flesh. There is but one
weapon which such cannot defile, a rope, and it waits for you, Thomas
Wingfield.'
I tore the writing to pieces and stamped upon it in my rage, for now,
to all his other crimes against me, de Garcia had added the blackest
insult.
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