"I am here, sir," said Doña Luz, coming forward. Concealed amidst the crowd of hunters, she had heard all that had been said.
The pirate threw away his half-consumed cigarette, bowed courteously to the young lady, and saluted her with respect.
"I am proud of the honour, señora, that you deign to do me."
"A truce to ironical compliments, if you please. I am listening to you; what have you to say to me?"
"You judge me wrongly, señora," the pirate replied; "but I hope to reinstate myself in your good opinion hereafter. Do you not recognise me? I thought I had left a better remembrance in your mind."
"It is possible, sir, that during a certain time I retained a favourable remembrance of you," the young lady answered, with some degree of emotion; "but, after what has taken place within these few days, I can only see in you a robber and a murderer!"
"The terms are harsh, señora."
"Pardon them, if they wound you, sir; but I have not yet recovered from the terrors you have caused me—terrors which your proceedings of today augment instead of diminishing. Be pleased, then, without further delay, to let me know your intentions."
"I am in despair at being thus ill-understood by you, señora. Attribute, I implore you, all that has happened solely to the violence of the passion I feel for you, and believe——"
"Sir! you insult me," the young lady interrupted, drawing herself up haughtily: "what can there be in common between me and the leader of bandits?"