"A slave!" Antinahuel cried.
"Yes, a slave." The Linda clapped her hands, and the Indian we have seen talking with her entered.
"Take away this woman!" she said.
"Oh, madam!" Rosario exclaimed, falling on her knees, "can you be inexorable towards a poor girl who has never injured you?"
The Linda gave her a fiery glance, and repulsed her with her foot.
"I ordered this girl to be taken away," she said, perilously.
At this flagrant insult, the blood rushed to the heart of the poor girl; her pallid brow flushed with scarlet, and drawing herself up majestically and proudly, she said in a piercing voice, the prophetic tone of which struck the Linda to the heart—
"Beware, madam! God will punish you! As you today are without pity for me, so the day will come when there will be no pity for you!"
And she left the room, after darting a look at her implacable enemy that made even her blench.
When Antinahuel and the Linda were left alone, a long silence ensued. The last words of Rosario had wounded the Linda like the stroke of a poniard; it was in vain she endeavoured to steel herself against the emotion she experienced. She felt herself conquered by the weak girl. She, however, gradually overcame the incomprehensible sensation that oppressed her. Passing her hand across her brow, as if to drive away the importunate idea that pursued her, she turned towards Antinahuel—