“Why, Furgeson, do you counsel flight?  My brave comrade, bethink yourself!”

“Well, Colonel, it is something strange for me to say run; but when I do say it, I am in earnest.  The most hot-headed fellow in our company dare not say I lack courage:  you know as well as I do what they call me—­’Bulldog Furgeson,’ but who feels like fighting the grand devil himself, and his legion of imps to boot?  I am a lone man and have nothing in particular to live for, it’s true; but it is some object with me to do the most service I can for our Lone blessed Star!  I should like a game with old ‘Santy’ in a clear ring, and fair play; but I am thinking we had best take French leave of this place, and join the main body where we can fight with some chance ahead.  Now that’s my opinion, but if you don’t believe that doctrine, and want to take the ‘old bull right by the horns,’ I say let’s at him.”

A smile passed over the face of his commander.

“Thank you, Furgeson, and rest assured I shall not doubt your stanch support in time of need.”

Again the broad brow contracted, and, linking his arm in that of Dr. Bryant, he paced to and fro, engrossed in earnest, anxious thought.  Pausing at length, he pointed to his troops, awaiting in silence his commands.

“Bryant, at least half those brave fellows have wives and children, and bright homes, beckoning them away, yet see them calmly trust to me in this trying hour.  Should my order go forth to man the fort, and meet the worst, I know full well not a murmur would be heard.  Still it is equally certain that, if we brave the conflict, not one of us shall survive to tell the tale.  What am I to do?  Make this a second Thermopylae?”

“Peculiarly painful, I know full well, is the situation in which you are placed.  Yet one strong argument remains to be urged.  Colonel, if we desert Goliad, and sound a retreat, we cannot escape.  The force of the enemy is too powerful, their movements too rapid, to allow us to retire to a place of safety without a desperate encounter.  Is it not better policy to remain here, and meet the shock?”

“If we fight at all it must be at fearful odds; four hundred to six thousand!  Yet, should I follow the dictates of my own heart, I would not give one inch!—­no, not one!  Dearly they should buy the ground on which I stand!”

“Colonel, shall we not meet them on this spot and lay down our lives, as did our brethren of the Alamo?”

“No, by Jove!  I shall have to leave, whether I will or not!” And crumpling the note of orders, he tossed it to the ground, and pressed it with his heel.

He stepped forth, and drawing his military cap about his eyes, folded his arms upon his broad chest, and addressed his troops: