---- Yes," replied the girl naively, "it is the memory of my mother, whom I never knew, and of my father's house.
By the gods," said the man, falling to his knees before the girl. He suddenly understood. He was before the denied one. He was before the figure of all the tales of the plains.
While the other men slowly did so, hiding their faces before them. They knew perfectly well who she was. They were in front of the living legend. The Unknown and lost daughter of her lords and masters.
Marutta drew the girl to herself, while she saw for the first time her subordinates.
--Hail Queen Mother Tahirza. Your unworthy and cowardly sons ask forgiveness for their fear, for not having known how to defend you," exclaimed the old motilon tremulously.
--Hail Queen Marutta. The innocent victim of our miserable cowardice, only comparable to that of the Caracas.
The girl did not answer them while the man, with his face wiped with tears of shame, said to her.