Guatimozin to rally around, and it will be a tower of strength, which
can never fail us."

"Yes, yes, it is right," was whispered on every side--"Go, noble
monarch, go at once. It is a voice from heaven to save us."

To this counsel the priests added their earnest advice, and even
Tecuichpo ventured to say, "it whispered of hope to her heart."
Guatimozin suffered himself to be overruled. The canoes were made ready
in the grand canal, which yet remained open on the eastern side. All
that could be safely taken of treasure, and of convenient apparel, was
carefully stowed. The Queen and other ladies of the court, with her
faithful Karee, all wasted to skeletons, and moving painfully, like
phantoms of beauty in a sickly dream, were conveyed to the barges. The
Emperor and his attendants followed, and all was in readiness for the
departure. At that moment the martial horn was sounded from the great
Teocalli, and the shadowy host of the Aztec army staggered forth to
offer battle to the enemy. It was a fearful sight. It seemed as if the
armies of the dead, the mighty warriors of the past, had risen from
their graves, to fight for their desecrated altars, and to defend those
very graves from profanation. Feebly, but fearfully, with glaring eyes
and hideous grin, they rushed upon the serried ranks of the besiegers. A
kind of superstitious terror seized them, as if these shapes were
something more than mortal. For a moment they gave way to panic, and
fell back without striking a blow. Roused by the stentorian voice of
Cortez, they rallied instantly, and discharging their heavy fire arms,
swept away whole ranks of their frenzied assailants. It was a brief
conflict. Many of the Aztecs fell by the swords of the Spaniards, and
the spears of their merciless allies. Some fell, faint with their own
exertions, and died without a wound. Some grappled desperately with the
foe, content to die by his hand, if they could first quench their
burning thirst with one drop of his blood.

At length, a long blast from the horn sounded a retreat. The poor
remnant turned towards the city, and were suffered to escape unmolested
to their desolate homes.

Meanwhile, the little fleet of Guatimozin had put forth upon the lake.
The canoes separated, as they left the basin of the canal, taking
different directions, the better to escape the observation of the
brigantines. The precaution was a wise one, but unavailing. The watchful
eye of the besieging gen