I had been snatched from the altars of Tobasco that I might grace the higher altars of Tenoctitlan, and that was all.

My fate would be to perish miserably far from my home, and in this world never to be heard of more.
Musing thus sadly at last I slept.

When I woke the sun was up.

Rising from my mat I went to the wood-barred window place and looked through.
The palace whence I gazed was placed on the crest of a rocky hill.

On one side this hill was bathed by the blue waters of Tezcuco, on the other, a mile or more away, rose the temple towers of Mexico.