"My father is great and generous."
Nocobotha contemptuously threw one of his rich necklaces to the wretched sorcerer, who made a grimace to show his joy.
"Begone!" he said to him.
The matchi, satisfied with his reward, went away. The trade of an Indian sorcerer is a famous one.
"I have the time," Nocobotha muttered, after calculating the hours by the position of the stars.
He hastily bent his steps toward Doña Concha's toldo.
"She is there," he said to himself, "she is sleeping, lulled by her childish dreams; her lips are opened like a flower to inhale the perfumed breath of night. She is slumbering with her hand upon her heart to defend it. And I love her! Grant, O Heaven, that I may render her happy! Help my arm, which wishes to save a people!"
He went up to a warrior, standing at the entrance to the toldo.
"Lucaney," he said, in a voice that was powerfully affected, "I have twice saved you from death."
"I remember it."