"Why despair?" Doña Emilia exclaimed, starting up impetuously. "We are three now. The Indians tremble at the sight of me, and we shall succeed in escaping."
"Mother, mother," the girl said entreatingly, "dismiss that thought. Alas! Flight is impossible, as you know well. Melchior is as well aware of it as we are."
The young man hung his head.
"If I cannot save you, señorita," he answered, "I can die with you."
"Die with us!" she exclaimed impetuously. "Oh no, that must not be, I insist."
"It was my hope in coming here," he said.
"Very good, Melchior," Doña Emilia said; "but cease to fear for us. The Indians will not dare, I feel firmly convinced, to make an attack on our lives, in spite of their frightful threats."
"Mother, undeceive yourself, our death is resolved. It is close at hand, for the conditions offered us compel us to die."
"That is true," Doña Emilia murmured despondingly. "Great God, what is to be done?"
"Fly," Don Melchior exclaimed boldly.