"I have come to say 'farewell,' Maria. We have been very happy
together--Maria--our children--dearest--"

"Oh, Roberto! My husband! My soul! My life! Leave me not."

"I am going for my arms. I will take them a hundredfold from those who
have robbed me. I swear I will!"

"You do not love me. What are these Americans to you? I am your wife.
Your Maria--"

"These Americans are my brothers--my sons. My mother is an American
woman."

"And I?"

"You are my wife--my dear wife! I love you--God Almighty knows how well
I love you; but we must part now, at least for a short time. Maria, my
dear one, I must go."

"Go? Where to?"

"I am going to join General Houston."

"I thought so. I knew it. The accursed one! Oh that I had him here
again! I would bury my stiletto in his heart! Over the white hilt
I would bury it! I would wash my hands in his blood, and think them
blessed ever afterwards! Stay till daylight, Roberto. I have so much to
say, dearest."

"I cannot. I have stayed too long. And now I must ride without a gun
or knife to protect me. Any Indian that I meet can scalp me. Do you
understand now what disarming means, Maria? If I had gone with my boy,
with my brave Jack, I could at least have sold my life to its last
drop."

"In the morning, Roberto, Lopez Navarro will get you a gun. Oh, if you
must go, do not go unarmed! There are ten thousand Comanche between here
and the Brazos."

"How could I look Lopez Navarro in the face? Or any other man? No, no!
I must win back my arms, before I can walk the streets of San Antonio
again."

He took her in his arms, he kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her lips,
murmuring tender little Spanish words that meant, oh, so much, to the
wretched woman!--words she had taught him with kisses--words he never
used but to her ears only.

She clung to his neck, to his hands, to his feet; she made his farewell
an unspeakable agony. At last he laid her upon her couch, sobbing and
shrieking like a child in an extremity of physical anguish. But he did
not blame her. Her impetuosities, her unreasonable extravagances, were
a part of her nature, her race, and her character. He did not expect a
weak, excitable woman to become suddenly a creature of flame and steel.

But it was a wonderful rest to his exhausted body and soul to turn from
her to Antonia. She led him quietly to his chair by the parlor fire.
She gave him food and wine. She listened patiently, but with a living
sympathy, to his