“I have brought the prisoner,” said Urrea, saluting.

“Very good,” replied the dictator, “and now, Captain Urrea, you can join your command.  You have served me well, and you shall have your share in the glory of this day.”

Urrea flushed with pride at the compliment, and bowed low.  Then he hurried away to join the horse.  Santa Anna turned his attention.

“I have brought you here at this moment,” he said, “to give you a last chance.  It is not due to any mercy for you, a rebel, but it is because you have been so long in the Alamo that you must know it well.  Point out to us its weakest places, and you shall be free.  You shall go north in safety.  I promise it here, in the presence of my generals.”

“I have nothing to tell,” replied Ned.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely sure.”

“Then it merely means a little more effusion of blood.  You may stay with us and see the result.”

All the ancient, inherited cruelty now shone in Santa Anna’s eyes.  It was the strange satanic streak in him that made him keep his captive there in order that he might see the fall of his own comrades.  A half dozen guards stood near the person of the dictator, and he said to them: 

“If the prisoner seeks to leave us, shoot him at once.”

The manner of Santa Anna was arrogant to the last degree, but Ned was glad to stay.  He was eager to see the great panorama which was about to be unrolled before him.  He was completely absorbed in the Alamo, and he utterly forgot himself.  Black specks were dancing before his eyes, and the blood was pounding in his ears, but he took no notice of such things.

The gray bar in the east broadened.  A thin streak of shining silver cut through it, and touched for a moment the town, the river, the army and the Alamo.  Ned leaned against an edge of the earthwork, and breathed heavily and painfully.  He had not known that his heart could beat so hard.

The same portentous silence prevailed everywhere.  The men and women on the roofs of the houses were absolutely still.  The cavalry, their line now drawn completely about the mission, were motionless.  Ned, straining his eyes toward the Alamo, could see nothing there.  Suddenly he put up his hand and wiped his forehead.  His fingers came away wet.  His blood prickled in his veins like salt.  He became impatient, angry.  If the mine was ready, why did they not set the match?  Such waiting was the pitch of cruelty.

“Cos, my brother,” said Santa Anna to the swart general, “take your command.  It was here that the Texan rebels humiliated you, and it is here that you shall have full vengeance.”

Cos saluted, and strode away.  He was to lead one of the attacking columns.

“Colonel Duque,” said Santa Anna to another officer, “you are one of the bravest of the brave.  You are to direct the attack on the northern wall, and may quick success go with you.”