"Tell her nothing superfluous," he cried. "The slave must be cunning and prudent, or he will never have the chance to obtain his freedom. Many a time, though, I have let go the chance to obtain it alone."
"You were right! For what would have become of a boy like you in these deserts in a storm such as shook the earth last night? You would be a mite!"
Leon the Drudge smiled disdainfully, and his pale face was set in an expression of energetic will.
"That is not the fear that held me, señorita," he replied. "I am young, but Indian boys go on the warpath at my age. I have broken in horses that great men about this camp have shrank from backing, and can back a mule or fire a shot to the centre with any of them. But for my double oath, I should have been alone—yes, but free on the prairie, long before this!"
"Explain! For you speak beyond my comprehension."
"Señorita, I made a vow to be revenged on this horde of villainous men, and not to fly save with you. You have not been spared so long but for some fiendish end which a man of honour is bound to loathe beforehand and baffle when discovered. That is why I remain, and why, however tempting the opportunities to slip away, I shall remain until it is possible for you to follow me."
"Alas! I am too closely guarded for that. A princess could not be more narrowly watched if she were affianced to the grandest king on earth and by her hand her father would be saved from ruin."
"Maybe you are more free than you imagine, señorita."
"Now, pray do not fill me with any baseless hopes. And talk less loud, lest you awake that poor slumberer. Alas! I weep, it being only a girl—a child who is incapable of doing anything but wail and pray for deliverance."
"Your defenders, if not deliverers, are at hand."