'T is nothing to me your past, yet I would have you remember there is a people we both know to whom your miserable horde of savages would be but a mouthful.

This tribe has already tested the sharpness of the French sword." Her troubled eyes fell before mine, the last faint gleam of defiance dying from her face.

She glanced about the apartment, evidently meditating retreat from my presence, or the swift summoning of her guards.

Whichever it might have been, she as evidently thought better of it, turning toward me once more, no longer a frightened, angry Amazon, but instead a smiling, pleasant-faced woman.
"We have surely jested long enough, senor," she exclaimed with apparent lightness of demeanor.

"It can never be best for us to be other than good friends.