the result; rising at dawn with the belief that ere twilight closed again their suspense would be terminated.  On the morning of the 28th the booming of distant artillery was borne on the southern breeze.  With throbbing hearts the inhabitants gathered about their doors, and strained their eyes toward the south.  A large body of Mexicans, availing themselves of the cover of night, sallied from the Alamo, hoping to cut off a squad of ninety-two men, who, leaving the main body of the Texan army, had advanced for the purpose of reconnoitering, and were posted at the old Mission of Conception, some two miles below the town; and here the contest was waged.  The watchman on the church listened intently as each report reached his ear, and kept his fingers firmly on the bell-rope.  An hour passed on, and the sun rode high in heaven; gradually the thundering died away.  Quicker grew the breathing, and tighter the cold fingers clasped each other.  The last sound ceased:  a deathlike silence reigned throughout the town, and many a cheek grew colorless as marble.  There came a confused sound of shouts—­the mingling of many voices—­the distant tramp of cavalry; and then there fell on the aching ears the deep, thrilling tones of the church bells.

An intervening bend in the river was quickly passed, and a body of Mexican cavalry dashed at full gallop across the plain, nor slackened their pace till secure behind the somber walls of the Alamo.

At intervals of every few moments, small squads pushed in, then a running band of infantry, and lastly a solitary horseman, reeling in his saddle, dripping with gore.  Madly his wounded horse sprung on, when just as the fort was gained, his luckless rider rolled senseless at the entrance.  One deep groan was echoed from church to fortress.  Victory, which had hovered doubtful o’er the bloody field, settled at last on the banner of the “Lone Star.”  Against what fearful odds is victory ofttimes won!  The intrepid Texans, assaulted by forces which trebled their own, fought as only Texans can.  With unerring precision they lifted their rifles, and artillerymen and officers rolled together in the dust.  The brave little band conquered, and the flying Mexicans left them sole masters of the field of the “Horseshoe.”  On the hill which rose just beyond the town stood, in bold relief against the eastern sky, a tall square building, to which the sobriquet of “Powder-House” was applied.  Here, as a means of increased vigilance, was placed a body of horse, for the purpose of watching the plain which stretched along the river.  Fearing every moment to see the victorious Texans at the heels of their retreating infantry, they had orders to dash in, at the first glimpse of the advance-guard of the enemy.  But night closed and none appeared, and, dreading the morning light, many lay down to sleep at the close of that eventful day.  Several hours elapsed, and then the Texan forces, under General Burleson, wound across the valley, and settled along the verge of the town.  The Alamo was beleaguered.