Bowie was again in the hospital, having been bruised severely in a fall from one of the walls, but his spirit was as dauntless as ever.

“The assault by the Mexicans in full force cannot be delayed much longer,” he said to Ned.  “Santa Anna is impatient and energetic, and he surely has brought up all his forces by this time.”

“Do you think we can beat them off?” asked Ned.

Bowie hesitated a little, and then he replied frankly: 

“I do not.  We have only one hundred and seventy or eighty men to guard the great space that we have here.  But in falling we will light such a flame that it will never go out until Texas is free.”

Ned talked with him a little longer, and always Bowie spoke as if the time were at hand when he should die for Texas.  The man of wild and desperate life seemed at this moment to be clothed about with the mantle of the seer.

The Mexican batteries fired very little that day, and Santa Anna’s soldiers kept well out of range.  They had learned a deep and lasting respect for the Texan rifles.  Hundreds had fallen already before them, and now they kept under cover.

The silence seemed ominous and brooding to Ned.  The day was bright, and the flag of no quarter burned a spot of blood-red against the blue sky.  Ned saw Mexican officers occasionally on the roofs of the higher buildings, but he took little notice of them.  He felt instinctively that the supreme crisis had not yet come.  They were all waiting, waiting.

The afternoon drew its slow length away in almost dead silence, and the night came on rather blacker than usual.  Then the word was passed for all to assemble in the courtyard.  They gathered there, Bowie dragging his sick body with the rest.  Every defender of the Alamo was present.  The cannon and the walls were for a moment deserted, but the Mexicans without did not know it.

There are ineffaceable scenes in the life of every one, scenes which, after the lapse of many years, are as vivid as of yesterday.  Such, the last meeting of the Texans, always remained in the mind of Ned.  They stood in a group, strong, wiry men, but worn now by the eternal vigilance and danger of the siege.  One man held a small torch, which cast but a dim light over the brown faces.

Travis stood before them and spoke to them.

“Men,” he said, “all of you know what I know, that we stand alone.  No help is coming for us.  The Texans cannot send it or it would have come.  For ten days we have beaten off every attack of a large army.  But another assault in much greater force is at hand.  It is not likely that we can repel it.  You have seen the red flag of no quarter flying day after day over the church, and you know what it means.  Santa Anna never gives mercy.  It is likely that we shall all fall, but, if any man wishes to go, I, your leader, do not order him to stay.  You have all done your duty ten times over.  There is just a chance to escape over the walls and in the darkness.  Now go and save your lives if you can.”