o listened to every word. _I_ listened--not a syllable
escaped me.

"Now!" began he, in an exulting tone--"Now, Dona Isolina de Vargas! you
have heard? I know you understand the tongue in which the council has
spoken--your _native_ tongue. Ha, ha, ha!"

The brute was jeering her!

"You are mine--soul and body, mine; you have heard?"

"I have heard," was the reply, in a tone of resignation!

"And surely you are satisfied; are you not? You should be. I am white
as yourself--I have saved you from the embrace of a red Indian. Surely
you are satisfied with the judgment?"

"I am satisfied."

This was uttered in the same tone of resignation. The answer somewhat
surprised me.

"'Tis a lie!" rejoined the brutal monster; "you are playing false with
me, sweet senorita. But yesterday you spoke words of scorn--you would
scorn me still?"

"I have no power to scorn you; I am your captive."

"Carrambo! you speak truth. You have no power either to scorn or refuse
me. Ha, ha, ha! And as little do I care if you did; you may like me or
not at your pleasure. Perhaps you will take to me in time, as much as I
may wish it; but that will be for _your_ consideration, sweet senorita!
Meanwhile, you are mine, body and soul, you are mine--and I mean to
enjoy my prize after my own fashion."

The coarse taunt caused my blood, already hot enough, to boil within my
veins. I grasped the haft of my knife, and like a tiger stood cowering
on the spring. My intent was, first to cut down the ruffian, and then
set free the limbs of the captive with the blood-stained blade.

The chances were still against me. A score of savages were yet around
the fire. Even should he fall at the first blow, I could not hope to
get clear.

But I could bear it no longer; and would have risked the chances at that
moment, had not my foot been stayed by some words that followed.

"Come!" exclaimed the renegade, speaking to his victim, and making sign
for her to follow him--"Come, sweet senorita! This place is too public.
I would talk with you elsewhere: I know where there are softer spots
for that fair form to recline upon--pretty glades and arbours, choice
retreats within the shadow of the grove. There, dearest, shall we
retire. _Vamos_!"

Though hideous the signification of this mock-poetic speech, I joyed at
hearing it. It arrested my hand and limb, both of which had been ready
for action. The "choice retreats within the shadow of the gro