the invited guests of themselves and of Montezuma, with the intention of assassinating them. But they had been caught in their own trap. The amazement of the chiefs deepened into terror as he concluded. “Surely it is a god that speaks,” they murmured, “since he reads our very thoughts.” On the impulse of the moment they admitted their guilt, but cast the blame on Montezuma. This, rejoined Cortés, did not justify treachery, and the excuse should avail them naught. The lords who had been opposed to the plot, and a few others less guilty or less responsible chiefs and priests, were now taken aside, and from them further particulars were obtained, which implicated the Mexicans only the more.
Returning to the envoys, who protested that their emperor was wholly blameless, he reassured them by saying that he believed not a word of the accusation. Montezuma was too great a prince, he continued, to stoop to such baseness, and had beside, by means of presents and messages, shown himself to be his friend. The Cholultecs should suffer the penalty not only of their treason but of their falsehood. The fact was that it did not suit Cortés to quarrel with Montezuma for the present, but rather to lull him into fancied security.25 A terrible punishment was now in store for the Cholultecs.
The signal being given, volleys poured from cannon, arquebuses, and cross-bows upon the warriors confined in the court, and then the Spaniards rushed in with sword and lance thrusting and slashing at the packed masses. The high walls permitted no escape, and at the gates gleamed a line of lances above the smoking mouths of the guns. Pressing one upon another, the victims offered only a better mark for the ruthless slayers, and fell in heaps, dead and dying intermingled, while many were trampled underfoot. Not one of those who had entered the court remained standing. Among the slain were the captain-general and the most inimical of the lords and leading men.26