Ned was in despair, not so much for himself but because there was no longer a chance that he could get through to Roylston. It was a deep mortification, moreover, to be taken by Urrea. But he faced the Mexican with an appearance of calmness.
“Well,” he said, “I am your prisoner.”
“You are,” said Urrea, “and you might have passed, if I had not known your voice. But I remind you that you come from the Alamo. You see our flag, and you know its meaning.”
The black eyes of the Mexican regarded Ned malignantly. The boy knew that the soul of Urrea was full of wicked triumph. The officer could shoot him down at that moment, and be entirely within orders. But Ned recalled the words of Roylston. The merchant had told him to use his name if he should ever fall again into the hands of Santa Anna.
“I am your prisoner,” he repeated, “and I demand to be taken before General Santa Anna. Whatever your red flag may mean, there are reasons why he will spare me. Go with me and you will see.”
He spoke with such boldness and directness that Urrea was impressed.
“I shall take you to the general,” he said, “not because you demand it, but because I think it well to do so. It is likely that he will want to examine you, and I believe that in his presence you will tell all you know. But it is not yet 4 o’clock in the morning, and I cannot awaken him now. You will stay here until after daylight.”
“Very well,” said Ned, trying to be calm as possible. “As you have bound me I cannot walk, but if you’ll put me on a blanket there by the fire I’ll sleep until you want me.”
“We won’t deny you that comfort,” replied Urrea grimly.
When Ned was stretched on his blanket he was fairly easy so far as the body was concerned. They had bound him securely, but not painfully. His agony of mind, though, was great. Nevertheless he fell asleep, and slept in a restless way for three or four hours, until Urrea awoke him, and told him they were going to Santa Anna.
It was a clear, crisp dawn and Ned saw the town, the river, and the Alamo. There, only a short distance away, stood the dark fortress, from which he had slipped but a few hours before with such high hopes. He even saw the figures of the sentinels, moving slowly on the church walls, and his heart grew heavy within him. He wished now that he was back with the defenders. Even if he should escape it would be too late. At Urrea’s orders he was unbound.
“There is no danger of your escaping now,” said the young Mexican. “Several of my men are excellent marksmen, and they will fire at the first step you take in flight. And even should they miss, what chance do you think you have here?”
He swept his right hand in a circle, and, in the clear morning air, Ned saw batteries and troops everywhere. He knew that the circle of steel about the Alamo was complete. Perhaps he would have failed in his errand even had he got by. It would require an unusually strong force to cut through an army as large as that of Santa Anna, and he did not know where Roylston could have found it. He started, as a sudden suspicion smote him. He remembered Crockett’s hurried manner, and his lack of explanation. But he put it aside. It could not be true.