At no time appears this hero stronger, grander, than now, when, without authority, without the royal sanction, in one sense an outlaw, with the people of the country against him, his own countrymen coming to war on him, his force insignificant as compared with that of any one of his several enemies, he yet holds them all at bay, by his iron nerve and ever ready strategic resources, keeping them asunder, pitting one against another, playing on the foibles of them all as easily and serenely as a lady fingers her guitar.
Greatly imperilled were now the conqueror's brilliant visions of conquest and conversion, of fame and wealth. If Narvaez were to advance on Mexico, the Aztecs could not fail to take advantage of the opportunity, either to join the professed liberator of their emperor and themselves, or to attack the foreigners' quarters on their own account. This would place him between two fires, to which famine would prove an effective ally. If Narvaez remained on the coast, it would be to cut off both retreat and reinforcement, leaving him to Aztec vengeance. To abandon Mexico for a campaign against the enemy would be to surrender the most important part of the conquest.
To divide his forces, so as at once to retain his hold on the capital and meet this new visitation — such a measure would render his already small force less able to cope with an enemy not only its equal in courage and military art, but far superior to it in number and resources. Yet this he determined to do. The revelations of Narvaez' messengers had shown how possible it might be, by judicious gifts and promises, to sow discord in the enemy's camp. The priests Guevara and Olmedo, and others of both parties, were even then at work, and chiefly on their efforts depended his prospects. Thus would he seduce to his purpose the opponent's troops, in so far at least as to effect a compromise by which
