"It is well, daughter!" Doña Emilia replied, as she took Diana in her arms, and pressed her passionately to her heart.
So great is the effect that a powerful resolution always produces, that the two ladies awaited the chief's coming more calmly than they had hoped. They had scarce finished breakfast ere he appeared. The majordomo had, for this interview, doffed his Indian dress, and resumed that of the Mexican campesinos. This change denoted a resolution formed that he would allow no consideration to stop him. On recognizing him the two ladies uttered a cry, of surprise on the part of Diana, but of terror on that of her mother. She had discovered what she long suspected, that is to say, that her husband's majordomo was a traitor. On entering, he bowed to the ladies with ironical politeness; his face was smiling, his manner firm, and his voice coaxing.
"I venture to hope, señoras," he said, "that you will pardon a poor Indian."
"Oh," Doña Emilia said bitterly, "what a viper we have cherished!"
"Alas! Madam," he answered lightly, "why employ such ugly epithets? Everybody in this world is obliged to bow before necessity. It was not, be assured, of my own accord that I have so long remained a stranger to you."
"You are, then, really the chief of the men who carried us off, and it was you probably who prepared the odious snare into which we fell?"
"I will not attempt to deny it, madam," he said.
"What harm have I done you, who have been, living for more than twenty years beneath my roof, where you were taken in through charity; you whom my husband loves and places entire confidence in?"
"A confidence which I still possess, madam. But why lose our time in vain discussions? The open step I have taken must prove to you that my mind is irrevocably made up, and that I shall not hesitate or recoil in the execution of the plan I have formed."
"What you are doing is horrible; you requite with the blackest ingratitude the kindness with which my family has overwhelmed you."