"Very good, daughter. I am pleased to hear you speak in that way. Rise, my child, these men only respect the stoical courage of the condemned wretch who laughs amid his tortures; so we will not give them the spectacle of our weakness. By haughty behaviour we may succeed in inspiring these men with respect, if not with commiseration."
The girl rose with passive obedience.
"Alas!" she murmured, "I am not like you, mother; I feel that my strength is not equal to my courage."
"Let me speak to these ferocious men; the fear with which I have so long inspired them is not yet extinct; perhaps the step I am about to take will prove successful."
"Heaven grant it!" the maiden murmured, as she clasped her hands fervently, and raised her eyes to heaven.
Doña Emilia walked towards the Indians, who, collected at a respectful distance, watched her movements with ill-disguised anxiety. A singular scene then took place. In proportion as Doña Emilia advanced towards them, the Indians fell back, though without breaking the circle they formed; at length one of them, bolder than the rest, stopped, and placing the butt of his gun on the ground, said, in bad Spanish, to the lady who was still advancing—
"What does the paleface squaw want? Why does she not remain by the fire? The night is cold; it will be better for the stranger to remain where the warriors placed her."
"Who are you, dressed in the garb of civilized men, although your features are those of a ferocious redskin?" she answered haughtily. "By what right do you address me before I spoke to you? If you have any influence over the men who surround, us, order them to retire and let me pass, before my patience is exhausted."
"The warriors must not let the paleface squaw pass until the return of the chief."
Doña Emilia smiled disdainfully.