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.