“The time is at hand,” he said, “and it will be your wonderful fortune to see how Mexico strikes down her foe.”

His voice, pitched high, showed excitement, and a sense of the dramatic.  Ned said nothing, and his own pulses began to leap again.  The strip of gray in the east was broadening, and he now saw that the whole town was awake, although it was not yet full daylight.  Santa Anna had been at work in the night, while he lay in that feverish sleep.  He heard everywhere now the sound of voices, the clank of arms and the beat of horses’ hoofs.  The flat roofs were crowded with the Mexican people.  Ned saw Mexican women there in their dresses of bright colors, like Roman women in the Colosseum, awaiting the battle of the gladiators.  The atmosphere was surcharged with excitement, and the sense of coming triumph.

Ned’s breath seemed to choke in his throat and his heart beat painfully.  Once more he wished with all his soul that he was with his friends, that he was in the Alamo.  He belonged with them there, and he would rather face death with those familiar faces around him than be here, safe perhaps, but only a looker-on.  It was with him now a matter of the emotions, and not of reasoned intellect.  Once more he looked toward the old mission, and saw the dim outline of the buildings, with the dominating walls of the church.  He could not see whether anyone watched on the walls, but he knew that the sentinels were there.  Perhaps Crockett, himself, stood among them now, looking at the great Mexican coil of steel that was wrapping itself tighter and tighter around the Alamo.  Despite himself, Ned uttered a sigh.

“What is the matter with you?” asked Urrea, sharply.  “Are you already weeping for the conquered?”

“You know that I am not,” replied Ned.  “You need not believe me, but I regret that I am not in the Alamo with my friends.”

“It’s an idle wish,” said Urrea, “but I am taking you now to General Santa Anna.  Then I leave, and I go there!  Look, the horsemen!”

He extended his hand, and Ned saw his eyes kindling.  The Mexican cavalry were filing out in the dim dawn, troop after troop, the early light falling across the blades of the lances, spurs and bridles jingling.  All rode well, and they made a thrilling picture, as they rode steadily on, curving about the old fortress.

“I shall soon be with them,” said Urrea in a tone of pride.  “We shall see that not a single one of your Texans escapes from the Alamo.”

Ned felt that choking in his throat again, but he deemed it wiser to keep silent.  They were going toward the main plaza now, and he saw masses of troops gathered in the streets.  These men were generally silent, and he noticed that their faces expressed no elation.  He divined at once that they were intended for the assault, and they had no cause for joy.  They knew that they must face the deadly Texan rifles.

Urrea led the way to a fortified battery standing in front of the main plaza.  A brilliant group stood behind an earthen wall, and Ned saw Santa Anna among them.