This unconditional surrender of these proud warriors was in obedience to what they believed to be a decree of the gods—those mysterious beings whose will was the sum of Aztec law. The same deep-rooted superstition led them to make a further sacrifice: the tribute once paid to the council was now to flow into the Spanish treasury. Tax-gatherers were sent out in all directions, coming back in due time laden with treasures, amounting to more than six millions of dollars in gold, drawn from every place subject to Aztec rule. The secret treasure-vault into which the Spanish carpenter had blundered soon after the arrival of the invaders was now thrown open, and its contents were divided. After one-fifth had been carefully set apart for the king, the remainder was distributed among the soldiers. But the more they had, the more they wanted. Murmurs of dissatisfaction had been heard before; now they became loud and deep. Suspicions were expressed that Cortez and his leading officers were getting more than their share of the spoils. It is probable that the war of words would soon have ended in bloodshed had not trouble arisen in a new quarter.
The army had now been six months in Mexico. The Christian worship, which they at all times upheld, had been so far performed in their own quarters. But the great teocallis near by was a perpetual reminder that, while they had succeeded in treading under foot the government of Mexico, heathenism was still flourishing. Possibly human sacrifices were not offered on the high altar—Cortez declares that he put an end to these shortly after he came—but the hideous rites to which the Aztecs were devoted no doubt went on as before in other parts of the city. Soon after Montezuma's formal surrender
