"No," Doña Emilia answered, "your presence does not terrify us, it merely excites disgust." The chief frowned angrily, but checked himself. "It is dangerous," he said, "to rouse the lion when you are in his power." "The lion?" she continued, disdainfully; "You mean the coyote. The lion is brave, his character is noble, and he only attacks enemies worthy of his fury." "Very good, I am a coyote," he continued with perfect calmness, "insult is permissible to persons who are about to die." "Die?" Doña Diana exclaimed, with an outburst of joy that confounded the Indian. "Oh, thanks, señor; this is the first time you have brought me good news. When are we to die?" "Tomorrow," he replied, in a hollow voice. There was a mournful silence, and then the majordomo continued-- "You seem very weary of life?" "Yes, of such a life as you have made it; I prefer death to remaining longer exposed to the sufferings of every description to which I have been subjected during my captivity." "You can both live if you like," he said significantly. They shook their heads in denial, but said nothing. "At liberty," he continued. "At liberty?" the young lady repeated, her eyes suddenly lighting up with a flash of hope. Doña Emilia gently laid her hand on her shoulder, and addressed the chief-- "Come," she said, "explain yourself frankly; your words must conceal some terrible trap; on what condition are we to live and be free? We must be told these conditions in order to know whether we are able to accept them." "Can life be bargained for in this way?" "Yes, where life is to be purchased with dishonour." "Tomorrow you will be fastened to the stake, and tortured for four hours without respite or mercy." "What next?" Doña Emilia asked haughtily. "After that," he continued with an ill-omened smile, "you will be flayed alive, and burnt while still quivering." While uttering these cruel words, the chief fixed a viper glance on his captives. Doña Emilia shrugged her shoulders contemptuously. "I am waiting for you to tell us the conditions on which you will allow us to live," she went on with a bitter smile. "They must be very horrible, since you, whom nothing checks, hesitate in revealing them to us." "You know the condition already," he said slowly. "Repeat it, I have forgotten it," Doña Emilia remarked. The chief made an effort over himself, and said in a choking voice-- "That your daughter consents to become my wife." Doña Emilia broke into a loud harsh laugh, and looked at her daughter. The latter drew herself up proudly, walked toward the chief, who was apparently calm, although a terrible tempest raged in his breast and fixed on him a glance of sovereign contempt. "Invent the most atrocious tortures," she said to him, "I prefer death to such fearful degradation." "Well said, my child!" Doña Emilia exclaimed, as she passionately pressed her to her heart.