“Her vengeance is to be dreaded. If I do as you wish me, Shebotha—”
“Won’t hurt a hair of your head,” says Gaspar, interrupting. “Nor can’t. She’ll not be near enough to do you any injury. That worthy woman is on the eve of a long journey, to be made in our company, if you agree to assist us in getting the paleface away. You do agree to it, amiga mia?”
The girl fully comprehending, and relieved at the thought of the dreaded sorceress being taken out of the way, at length not only signifies assent to their scheme, but embraces it with alacrity. Its success will be to her advantage as theirs, ridding her of that rival feared, and it may be, restoring to her the affections of him on whom she has fixed her own.
And now that confidence is established between her and her captors, she gives them a full account of how things stand in the tolderia, and the place where the captive is confined. Having heard which, Gaspar counsels her how to act, as a last word, saying—
“Tell this white man, who has charge of the niña, he need no longer be a prisoner himself, nor Shebotha’s slave. Say to him, that men of his own race and colour are near, ready to rescue and take him back to his people, wherever they may be. Surely that will be enough to gain him to our side, and get his help also.”
Nacena hesitates for a time; then answering, says—
“No, not enough, I fear.”
“But why?”
“The white man is not in his senses. He has lost them long ago. The little left him is given to Shebotha. He fears her, as all our people do; but he more than any. She has surely left him with commands to keep a close watch. He does not disobey her; and it may be impossible for me to speak with the paleface, much more get her away from him.”
“Caspita!” exclaims Gaspar, his countenance again turning grave. “There will be a difficulty there, I see it; if the man’s crazed, as you say he is, Nacena. You think he won’t let you speak with the prisoner, unless you have permission from Shebotha?”