old it until we should join them.
Even now it was certain that in going down through the city we should
have to fight our way, and each moment that we delayed our retreat
increased our danger. Capturing the temple now was a sheer
impossibility. Our only hope of saving Pablo's life lay in our getting
away promptly, and so beginning the preparations that would lead to
ultimate victory.

All the while that Tizoc spoke he was edging us away towards the outer
face of the terrace, where steps led downward; and when the men who had
been searching the building once more for Pablo returned without him, he
resolutely gave the order to march. To the arguments that he had
advanced we were compelled to yield; but our hearts were heavy with
sorrow for the boy whom we were leaving behind us, and little hope was
in our breasts that we ever again should see him alive.

The truth of Tizoc's words about the great danger that we ourselves were
in became apparent as we crossed the terrace next below that on which
our march began. Where the street passed through the rampart by a narrow
portal, and so by a flight of stone steps descended to the next level,
soldiers were clustered together with the evident intention of disputing
the way with us. Their number was so much less than ours that we made
short work of them; killing a few, and driving the remainder down the
steps before us. But those who escaped ran on ahead of us to where the
next rampart was, and there joined themselves to a much larger body that
lay in wait for us. Here our work was less easy; for the force that
confronted us was nearly our equal, and some resolute fighting was
required before we could drive it before us and so pass on. Some of our
men were killed there, and more of the enemy; and I got a trifling hurt
in my arm from the point of a javelin, that, luckily, did little more
than graze the skin. I do not think that I killed anybody there, but I
remember very plainly the look of pain and of anger on the face of that
fellow who poked his javelin at me when I gashed his arm, and broke the
bone of it, with a blow from my sword. I was glad, at the moment, that I
had succeeded in giving him a worse hurt than he had given me; and then
the absurdity occurred to me of my thus fighting with a total stranger,
against whom I had no personal ill-will; and I could not but feel sorrow
for him as I thought of the long time that he must suffer severe pain
and great inconvenience becau