"Miserable!" Don Tadeo cried.
"Ah, yes," the Linda replied, smiling, "that revenge was miserable; it did not at all amount to what I intended; but chance offered me what could alone satisfy me, by breaking your very heart."
"What frightful infamy can this monster have imagined?" Don Tadeo murmured.
"Antinahuel, the enemy of your race, your enemy, became enamoured of this woman."
"What!" he exclaimed, in a tone of horror.
"Yes, after his fashion, he loved her," she continued, coolly; "so I resolved to sell her to him, and I did so; but when the chief wished to avail himself of the rights I had given him, she resisted, and arming herself suddenly with a dagger, threatened to plunge it into her own heart."
"Noble girl!" he exclaimed, deeply affected.
"Is she not?" said the Linda, with her malign vacant smile; "so I took pity on her, and as I had no particular wish for her death, but a very anxious one for her dishonour, I this evening gave her some opium, which will place her, without means of defence, in the power of Antinahuel. Have I attained my object this time?"
Don Tadeo made no reply, this utter depravity in a woman absolutely terrified him.
"Well," she continued, in a mocking tone, "have you nothing to say?"