"We must finish with that bandit," Valentine said, "kill him at all risks."
"One moment, I implore you," Don Miguel entreated, "let me first speak to him, perhaps I may move his heart."
"Humph!" the hunter muttered, as he rested his rifle on the ground, "it would be easier to move a tiger."
Don Miguel walked a few paces forward. "Red Cedar," he exclaimed, "have pity on me—give me back my daughter."
The pirate grinned, but gave no answer.
"Red Cedar," Don Miguel went on, "have pity on me, I implore you, I will pay any ransom you ask; but in the name of what there is most sacred on earth, restore me my daughter; remember that you owe your life to me."
"I owe you nothing," the squatter said brutally; "the life you saved you tried to take from me again; we are quits."
"My daughter! Give me my daughter."
"Where is mine? Where is Ellen? restore her to me; perhaps, after that, I will consent to give you your daughter."
"She is not with us, Red Cedar, I swear it to you; she went away to join you."