“Someone comes,” said Austin.

They heard the sound of the heavy bar that closed the door being moved from its place.

“Our dinner, doubtless,” said Austin, “but it is early.”

The door swung wide and a young Mexican officer entered.  He was taller and fairer than most of his race, evidently of pure Northern Spanish blood, and his countenance was frank and fine.

“Welcome, Lieutenant,” said Stephen Austin, speaking in Spanish, which he, as well as Ned, understood perfectly.  “You know that we are always glad to see you here.”

Lieutenant Alfonso de Zavala smiled in a quick, responsive way, but in a moment his face became grave.

“I announce a visitor, a most distinguished visitor, Mr. Austin,” he said.  “General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, President of the Mexican Republic and Commander-in-chief of its armies and navies.”

Both Mr. Austin and the boy arose and bowed as a small man of middle years, slender and nervous, strode into the room, standing for a few moments near its center, and looking about him like a questing hawk.  His was, in truth, an extraordinary presence.  He seemed to radiate an influence that at once attracted and repelled.  His dark features were cut sharply and clearly.  His eyes, set closely together, were of the most intense black that Ned had ever seen in a human head.  Nor were those eyes ever at rest.  They roamed over everything, and they seemed to burn every object for the single instant they fell there.  They never met the gaze of either American squarely, although they continually came back to both.

This man was clothed in a white uniform, heavy with gold stripes and gold epaulets.  A small sword at his side had a gold hilt set with a diamond.  He wore a three-cornered hat shaped like that of Napoleon, but instead of the Corsican’s simple gray his was bright in color and splendid with plumage.

He was at once a powerful and sinister figure.  Ned felt that he was in the presence of genius, but it belonged to one of those sinuous creatures, shining and terrible, that are bred under the vivid sun of the tropics.  There was a singular sensation at the roots of his hair, but, resolved to show neither fear nor apprehension, he stood and gazed directly at Santa Anna.

“Be seated, Mr. Austin,” said the General, “and close the door, de Zavala, but remain with us.  Your young relative can remain, also.  I have things of importance to say, but it is not forbidden to him, also, to hear them.”

Ned sat down and so did Mr. Austin and young de Zavala, but Santa Anna remained standing.  It seemed to Ned that he did so because he wished to look down upon them from a height.  And all the time the black eyes, like two burning coals, played restlessly about the room.

Ned was unable to take his own eyes away.  The figure in its gorgeous uniform was so full of nervous energy that it attracted like a magnet, while at the same time it bade all who opposed to beware.  The boy felt as if he were before a splendid leopard with no bars of a cage between.