"After that," he continued with an ill-omened smile, "you will be flayed alive, and burnt while still quivering."
While uttering these cruel words, the chief fixed a viper glance on his captives. Doña Emilia shrugged her shoulders contemptuously.
"I am waiting for you to tell us the conditions on which you will allow us to live," she went on with a bitter smile. "They must be very horrible, since you, whom nothing checks, hesitate in revealing them to us."
"You know the condition already," he said slowly.
"Repeat it, I have forgotten it," Doña Emilia remarked.
The chief made an effort over himself, and said in a choking voice—
"That your daughter consents to become my wife."
Doña Emilia broke into a loud harsh laugh, and looked at her daughter. The latter drew herself up proudly, walked toward the chief, who was apparently calm, although a terrible tempest raged in his breast and fixed on him a glance of sovereign contempt.
"Invent the most atrocious tortures," she said to him, "I prefer death to such fearful degradation."
"Well said, my child!" Doña Emilia exclaimed, as she passionately pressed her to her heart.