that a kind of mad humour, or perhaps it was the drunkenness of worship,
entered into me in those days. Also I sought to forget my griefs, I
desired to forget that I was doomed to the sacrifice, and that every day
brought me nearer to the red knife of the priest.

I desired to forget, but alas! I could not. The fumes of the mescal
and the pulque that I had drunk at feasts would pass from my brain, the
perfume of flowers, the sights of beauty and the adoration of the people
would cease to move me, and I could only brood heavily upon my doom and
think with longing of my distant love and home. In those days, had it
not been for the tender kindness of Otomie, I think that my heart would
have broken or I should have slain myself. But this great and beauteous
lady was ever at hand to cheer me in a thousand ways, and now and again
she would let fall some vague words of hope that set my pulses bounding.
It will be remembered that when first I came to the court of Montezuma,
I had found Otomie fair and my fancy turned towards her. Now I still
found her fair, but my heart was so full of terror that there was no
room in it for tender thoughts of her or of any other woman. Indeed when
I was not drunk with wine or adoration, I turned my mind to the making
of my peace with heaven, of which I had some need.

Still I talked much with Otomie, instructing her in the matters of my
faith and many other things, as I had done by Marina, who we now heard
was the mistress and interpreter of Cortes, the Spanish leader. She for
her part listened gravely, watching me the while with her tender eyes,
but no more, for of all women Otomie was the most modest, as she was the
proudest and most beautiful.


So matters went on until the Spaniards had left Cholula on their road