"You are wrong, father," said Doña Hermosa, with much animation; "let us hear, at least, what this chance is. Perhaps it is the only good one. Explain, señor," continued she, addressing the hunter. "After all you have done for us, we should be ungrateful not to listen to your counsel. I am convinced that what you hesitate to propose, for my sake, is the only means of safety open to us."
"That may be," answered the hunter; "but I repeat, señorita, that the means are impracticable—you being with us."
The girl drew herself up, a gay smile played about her rosy lips, and, commencing her speech in a voice slightly ironical, she said:
"You surely think me very weak and pusillanimous, señor, since you dare not speak out. I am but a woman, it is true, and feeble, as we all are; but I think I have proved to you, in the few hours during which we have travelled together, that my heart is above vulgar fears; and that if my physical strength is not equal to my moral energy, my will triumphs over my woman's weakness, and makes me superior to circumstances, let them be what they will."
Stoneheart listened attentively to the beautiful girl. The mask of impassiveness which covered his features melted away at the sound of that melodious voice, and a deep blush suffused his face.
"Pardon me, señorita," he said in a voice which the secret feelings agitating him caused to waver; "I was wrong; I will speak out."
"Good!" said she, with a pleasant smile; "I knew what your answer would be."
"The Apaches," began the hunter, "are encamped, as I have told you, at a short distance from the bank of the river. Certain that they will not be molested, they keep no watch; they sleep, drink the firewater, and await the time for attacking you. We are six men, well armed and determined; we know that our safety depends on the success of our expedition. Let us land on the island, surprise the redskins, and fall on them boldly. Perhaps we may succeed in opening ourselves a passage, and in that case we shall be saved, for they will not pursue us after they have been defeated. This is my proposal."
There was a long silence; it was Doña Hermosa who broke it.
"You were wrong in hesitating to acquaint us with this project," said she, fervently; "it is the only one practicable. It is better to meet danger halfway than to tremble in cowardly expectation of its advent. Let us go! Let us go! We have not a minute to lose."