the rest, Cortés himself would soon come to Mexico and arrange everything.
The envoys replied that their sovereign was too engrossed in serious affairs to be able as yet to appoint an interview. “Adieu,” they concluded, “and beware of the Totonacs, for they are a treacherous race.”
Not to create needless alarm, nor leave on the minds of the envoys at their departure unpleasant impressions concerning his projects, Cortés entertained them hospitably, astonished them with cavalry and other exhibitions, and gratified them with presents.
The effect of this visit was to raise still higher the Spaniards in the estimation not only of the Aztecs, but of the Totonacs, who with amazement saw come from the dread Montezuma, instead of a scourging army, this high embassy of peace.
“It must be so,” they said among themselves, “that the Mexican monarch stands in awe of the strangers.”
Not long after, Chicomacatl came to Cortés asking aid against a Mexican garrison, said to be committing ravages at Tizapantzinco,7 some eight leagues from Cempoala.
Cortés was in a merry mood at the moment; he could see the important progress he was making toward the consummation of his desires, though the men of Velazquez could not—at least they would admit of nothing honorable or beneficial to Cortés, and they continued to make much trouble.
Here was an opportunity to test the credulity of these heathen, how far they might be brought to believe in the supernatural power of the Spaniards. Among the musketeers was an old Biscayan from the Italian wars, Heredia by name, the ugliest man in the army, uglier than Thersites, who