"Give me the pistols hanging from your girdle."
"Pistols! Great Heaven! what would you do with them?"
"Kill ourselves," Maria said, simply, "sooner than return to the Indian city."
"Oh! am I not here to defend you?"
"We know it," Inez added, "and know, too, that you are the noblest and bravest of all your comrades: but I join my entreaty to that of my sister, and beg you not to refuse us."
"If you were killed, Leon," Maria at length said, "must not I die too?"
Inez looked at her sister, and was silent.
Leon started, and drew the pistols from his girdle.
"Here they are," he said, as he handed them to the ladies.
And, without adding a word, he left the room, with his face buried in his hands. Maria and Inez threw themselves into each other's arms, and passionately embraced.