It seemed to Ned that there was the faintest touch of irony in his last word or two, but he was not sure.  He was never sure of Santa Anna, that complex man of great abilities and vast ambition.  And so after his fashion when he had nothing to say he said nothing.

“You are silent,” said Santa Anna, “but you are thinking.  You of the north are silent to hide your thoughts, and we of the south talk to hide ours!”

Ned still said nothing, and Santa Anna examined him searchingly.  He sent his piercing gaze full into the eyes of the boy.  Ned, proud of his race and blood, endured it, and returned it with a firm and steady look.  Then the face of Santa Anna changed.  He became all at once smiling and friendly, like a man who receives a welcome guest.  He put a hand on Ned’s shoulder, and apparently he did not notice that the shoulder became rigid under his touch.

“I like you,” he said, “I like your courage, your truth, and your bluntness.  You Texans, or rather you Americans,—­because the Texans are Americans,—­have some of the ruder virtues which we who are of the Spanish and Latin blood now and then lack.  You are only a boy, but you have in you the qualities that can make a career.  The Texans belong to Mexico.  Your loyalty is due to Mexico and to me.  I have said that you would go to Vera Cruz and take the hospitality that my brother, Cos, will offer you, but there is an alternative.”

He stopped as if awaiting a natural question, but still Ned did not speak.  A spark appeared in the eye of Santa Anna, but it passed so quickly that it was like a momentary gleam.

“I would make of you,” continued the dictator in his mellow, coaxing tone, “a promising young member of my staff, and I would assign to you an immediate and important duty.  I would send you to the Texans with a message entirely different from the one you wish to bear.  I would have you to tell them that Santa Anna means only their greatest good; that he loves them as his children; that he is glad to have these strong, tall, fair men in the north to fight for him and Mexico; that he is a man who never breaks a promise; that he is the father of his people, and that he loves them all with a heart full of tenderness.  To show you how much I trust and value you I would take your word that you would bear such a message, and I would send you with an escort that would make your way safe and easy.”

Again he sent his piercing gaze into the eyes of the boy, but Ned was still silent.

“You would tell them,” said Santa Anna in the softest and most persuasive tones, “that you have been much with me, that you know me, and that no man has a softer heart or a more just mind.”

“I cannot do it,” said Ned.

“Why?”

“Because it is not so.”

The change on the face of Santa Anna was sudden and startling.  His eyes became black with wrath, and his whole aspect was menacing.  The hand of Cos flew to the hilt of his sword, and he half rose from his chair.  But Santa Anna pushed him back, and then the face of the dictator quickly underwent another transformation.  It became that of the ruler, grave but not threatening.