Only a second or two do they remain silent, till the sorceress recovers breath; for it is she who breaks the silence, saying:—
“Nacena wants to speak with Shebotha? On what subject?”
“Need I tell you, Shebotha; you know!”
“I know that the sister of Kaolin is in love with our young cacique. That is no secret to others, any more than to me.”
“Oh! do not say that! I thought no one knew of it but—”
“But everybody,” interrupts the unfeeling hag. “And what if they do? Nacena is beautiful, the belle of our tribe, and need fear no rival; not even her with the eyes of blue, and the tresses of gold, who sleeps under Shebotha’s roof. Nacena is jealous of the paleface captive; she has no cause.”
“O, good Shebotha!” cries the young girl, in passionate tone, her heart heaving with rekindled hope, “can you assure me of that? If so, you shall have all I can give you; my armlets, neck ornaments, mantas, hamacas, everything. Fear not my rewarding you well!”
“Nacena is generous,” rejoins the sorceress, her eyes sparkling with pleasure at such a wholesale proffer of chattels. “She shall have that assurance; for Shebotha can give it without fail. See this!”
While speaking, she has drawn out, from under the skin robe that covers her bony breast, what appears to be a small horn, converted into a phial with bottom and stopper.
“In this,” she says, holding it up to the light, “is a fluid, one drop of which, given to Aguara will turn his heart whichever way Shebotha wishes it turned; make him love whomsoever she wants him to love; and that will be as Nacena wants it.”