Duque glowed at the compliment, and he, too, strode away to the head of his column.

“Colonel Romero,” said Santa Anna, “the third column is yours, and the fourth is yours, Colonel Morales.  Take your places and, at the signal agreed, the four columns will charge with all their strength.  Let us see which will be the first in the Alamo.”

The two colonels saluted as the others had done, and joined their columns.

The bar of gray in the east was still broadening, but the sun itself did not yet show.  The walls of the Alamo were still dim, and Ned could not see whether any figures were there.  Santa Anna had put a pair of powerful glasses to his eyes, but when he took them down he said nothing of what he had seen.

“Are all the columns provided?” he said to General Sesma, who stood beside him.

“They have everything,” replied Sesma, “crowbars, axes, scaling ladders.  Sir, they cannot fail!”

“No, they cannot,” said Santa Anna exultantly.  “These Texan rebels fight like demons, but we have now a net through which they cannot break.  General Gaona, see that the bands are ready and direct them to play the Deguelo when the signal for the charge is given.”

Ned shivered again.  The “Deguelo” meant the “cutting-of-throats,” and it, too, was to be the signal of no quarter.  He remembered the red flag, and he looked up.  It hung, as ever, on the tower of the church of San Fernando, and its scarlet folds moved slowly in the light morning breeze.  General Gaona returned.

“The bands are ready, general,” he said, “and when the signal is given they will play the air that you have chosen.”

A Mexican, trumpet in hand, was standing near.  Santa Anna turned and said to him the single word: 

“Blow!”

The man lifted the trumpet to his lips, and blew a long note that swelled to its fullest pitch, then died away in a soft echo.

It was the signal.  A tremendous cry burst from the vast ring of the thousands, and it was taken up by the shrill voices of the women on the flat roofs of the houses.  The great circle of cavalrymen shook their lances and sabers until they glittered.

When the last echo of the trumpet’s dying note was gone the bands began to play with their utmost vigor the murderous tune that Santa Anna had chosen.  Then four columns of picked Mexican troops, three thousand strong, rushed toward the Alamo.  Santa Anna and the generals around him were tremendously excited.  Their manner made no impression upon Ned then, but he recalled the fact afterward.

The boy became quickly unconscious of everything except the charge of the Mexicans and the Alamo.  He no longer remembered that he was a prisoner.  He no longer remembered anything about himself.  The cruel throb of that murderous tune, the Deguelo, beat upon the drums of his ears, and mingled with it came the sound of the charging Mexicans, the beat of their feet, the clank of their arms, and the shouts of their officers.