"Oh! to be tortured!" exclaimed Clara, wringing her hands and beginning to cry.
"We will ransom her," he hurried on. "I am going down to hold a parley with the Apaches."
"You!" exclaimed the girl, catching his arm. "Oh no! Oh, why did we come here!"
Fearing lest he should be persuaded to evade what he considered his duty, he pressed her hand fervently and hurried away. Yes, he repeated, it was his duty; to parley with the Apaches was a most dangerous enterprise; he did not feel at liberty to order any other to undertake it.
Finding Coronado, he said to him, "I am going down to ransom Pepita. You know the Indians better than I do. How many people shall I take?"
A gleam of satisfaction shot across the dark face of the Mexican as he replied, "Go alone."
"Certainly," he insisted, in response to the officer's stare of surprise. "If you take a party, they'll doubt you. If you go alone, they'll parley. But, my dear Lieutenant, you are magnificent. This is the finest moment of your life. Ah! only you Americans are capable of such impulses. We Spaniards haven't the nerve."
"I don't know their scoundrelly language."
"Manga Colorada speaks Spanish. I dare say you'll easily come to an understanding with him. As for ransom, anything that we have, of course, excepting food, arms, and ammunition. I can furnish a hundred dollars or so. Go, my dear Lieutenant; go on your noble mission. God be with you."
"You will see that I am covered, if I have to run for it."