"Oh!" Leon exclaimed, "I understand it all now. Unhappy child! unhappy father!"
And quick as thought, he drew a pistol from his girdle, and placed the muzzle against the half-breed's chest. The latter, calm and haughty, raised his eyes and looked at Leon, without making the slightest motion to escape death. The young man trembled, and let his weapon sink again.
"And yet I cannot kill him!" he said, the first feeling of surprise over. The Indians rushed furiously on him to make him pay dearly for this insensate attempt.
"Stay," Diego said, "this man is an adopted son of the Moluchos, and I forbid you touching him."
The Indians fell back.
"Is this the way in which you avenge yourself?" Leon exclaimed. "What! instead of attacking your enemy face to face, you cowardly carry off a child to make her your victim! Oh! I curse the day when my hand clasped yours for the first time: I believed you to be a man of heart, and you are a ferocious brute. I no longer hate you, I despise you."
"Leon, your heart is no longer your own; it belongs to a Spanish girl, and a cloud covers your mind; one day you will render me justice."
"Never!" Leon replied, "never! I curse you, and I swear by the ashes of my mother, that if you let me leave this place, my vengeance shall pursue you; you will ever find me on your road ready to fight you and overthrow your plans."
"Your will be done, brother: my hand will never be laid upon you to ask an account of your outrages. But woe to the Spaniards who have broken our friendship!"
"Speak no more of friendship, since you have crushed my life and destroyed my happiness for ever."