At this terrible revelation the two ladies concealed their faces in their bands, uttering a piercing cry.
"Do you think," continued the chief, vehemently, "that your disguise has deceived us for a moment?"
"Oh! We are lost!" cried the marchioness.
"Eh, no! you are saved, or at least I hope so; you are our guests. Your enemy himself is powerless to injure you, so long as you remain near us. All his efforts will break against a rock—my immovable will!" said the chief.
"Oh, chief!" cried the marchioness, taking his hand; "It is not for myself that I implore you—it is for my daughter."
"Alas! Chief," said the young girl, "if a victim must be sacrificed, choose me, save—save my mother!"
Notwithstanding his Indian stoicism, Arnal was moved by this sincere sorrow. His brow was pale, and tears rolled down his cheek.
Emile stamped with rage.
"Do not afflict yourselves thus," at last said the chief, "I have promised to save you, and I hope to succeed. I will employ all my power, only allow me to act. Courage and hope."
"Yes, thank God!" cried Emile, who could no longer contain himself, "I have confidence in you. Be comforted, then, Madame, and you also señorita, the position of affairs is improving. Rejoice, instead of weeping like this. Instead of one friend you have two."