“I am going for my arms. I will take them a hundredfold from those who have robbed me. I swear I will!”
“You do not love me. What are these Americans to you? I am your wife. Your Maria—”
“These Americans are my brothers—my sons. My mother is an American woman.”
“And I?”
“You are my wife—my dear wife! I love you—God Almighty knows how well I love you; but we must part now, at least for a short time. Maria, my dear one, I must go.”
“Go? Where to?”
“I am going to join General Houston.”
“I thought so. I knew it. The accursed one! Oh that I had him here again! I would bury my stiletto in his heart! Over the white hilt I would bury it! I would wash my hands in his blood, and think them blessed ever afterwards! Stay till daylight, Roberto. I have so much to say, dearest.”
“I cannot. I have stayed too long. And now I must ride without a gun or knife to protect me. Any Indian that I meet can scalp me. Do you understand now what disarming means, Maria? If I had gone with my boy, with my brave Jack, I could at least have sold my life to its last drop.”
“In the morning, Roberto, Lopez Navarro will get you a gun. Oh, if you must go, do not go unarmed! There are ten thousand Comanche between here and the Brazos.”