The Apache listened with evident attention to the words of the hacendero. When the latter ceased, he answered: "Wagh! My father has spoken well. Wisdom has taken up her abode in him. The chief will come; but who will insure his safety when in the camp of the palefaces,—he alone, with twenty Yarri (Spanish) braves around him!"
"My word of honour, redskin; my word of honour,—which is worth more than all your chief could give me," said Don Pedro haughtily.
"My father's word is good; his tongue is not forked. The Tigercat asks no more; he will come."
Having uttered these words with Indian emphasis, the Apache warrior bowed profoundly, and retired with the same quiet step which marked his coming.
"What do you think of that Luciano?" said Don Pedro, as soon as they were alone.
"By Heavens, señor! I think it conceals some Indian devilry. I fear the white who changes his colour, and turns redskin, a hundred times words than the true Indian. I never liked chameleons."
"Right, Luciano! But we are placed in a difficult position. Before all things I must have my daughter; for her sake I must overlook many things."
"True, señor! Nevertheless, you know as well as I, that the Tigercat is a miscreant without faith or honour. Do not trust him too far."
"I am obliged to trust him. Have I not given my word?"
"You have," growled the capataz; "but I have not given mine!"