“Am I not the princess?” she asked, proudly.
“You are the princess, and one day you will succeed your father as ruler of the Techlas—if you live. If you do not live, Nalig-Nad’s children by another mother will succeed him. Will you live, Ilalah—you who defy the traditional hatred of your race for the cursed white people?”
Ilalah flushed a little, but not with fear. She wanted Tcharn to understand her, though, and began to tell him how the white people had for many ages dominated the world beyond the seas, where they had many distinct nations that warred with each other. Some of the white nations were strong, and just, and wise; others were strong, but wicked and unjust. It was one of these latter nations, she explained, whose people were known as Spaniards, that had invaded the country of her forefathers and robbed and oppressed them; therefore the Techlas, knowing no better, had hated all of the white nations instead of that especial one that had wronged them.
“These friends,” she added, pointing to us, “have never injured us, nor have their people, who have themselves warred with the Spaniards, our old and hated enemies. Why then, should I condemn and hate the innocent?”
The dwarf listened carefully to this explanation, and without answering her appeal he said, in a doubtful tone:
“The chiefs who rule the islands and the coast, all of whom trade with the whites, have told me they are all alike. They are never satisfied, but always want something that belongs to others.”
I laughed at his shrewd observation, for that was our case, just then. We wanted the diamonds.
“Will you not permit us to see the beautiful pebbles?” I asked.
Tcharn hesitated.
“Will you let me see your moving house?” he demanded.