His attention wandered to his guards.  They were mere peons, but, although watchful, they were taking their ease.  Evidently they liked their task.  They were resting with the complete relaxation of the body that only the Southern races know.  Both had lighted cigarritos, and were puffing at them contentedly.  It had been a long time since Ned had seen such a picture of lazy ease.

“You like it here?” he said to the nearest.

The man took the cigarrito from his mouth, emitted smoke from his nose and replied politely: 

“It is better to be here lying in the sun than out there on the grass with a Texan bullet through one’s body.  Is it not so, Fernando?”

“Aye, it is so,” replied his comrade.  “I like not the Texan bullets.  I am glad to be here where they cannot reach me.  It is said that Satan sights their rifles for them, because they do not miss.  They will die hard to-morrow.  They will die like the bear in its den, fighting the hunters, when our army is poured upon them.  That will be an end to all the Texans, and we will go back to the warm south.”

“But are you sure,” asked Ned, “that it will be an end of the Texans?  Not all the Texans are shut up in the Alamo.”

“What matters it?” replied Fernando, lightly.  “It may be delayed, but the end will be the same.  Nothing can resist the great, the powerful, the most illustrious Santa Anna.  He is always able to dig graves for his enemies.”

The men talked further.  Ned gathered from them that the whole force of Santa Anna was now present.  Some of his officers wanted him to wait for siege artillery of the heaviest caliber that would batter down the walls of the Alamo, but the dictator himself was impatient for the assault.  It would certainly take place the next morning.

“And why is the young senor here?” asked Fernando.  “The order has been issued that no Texan shall be spared, and do you not see the red flag waving there close by us?”

Ned looked up.  The red flag now flaunted its folds very near to him.  He could not repress a shiver.

“I am here,” he replied, “because some one who has power has told General Santa Anna that I am not to be put to death.”

“It is well for you, then,” said Fernando, “that you have a friend of such weight.  It is a pity to die when one is so young and so straight and strong as you.  Ah, my young senor, the world is beautiful.  Look how green is the grass there by the river, and how the sun lies like gold across it!”

Ned had noticed before the love of beauty that the humblest peon sometimes had, and there was a certain touch of brotherly feeling between him and this man, his jailer.

“The world is beautiful,” said the boy, “and I am willing to tell you that I have no wish to leave it.”

“Nor I,” said Fernando.  “Why are the Texans so foolish as to oppose the great Santa Anna, the most illustrious and powerful of all generals and rulers?  Did they not know that he would come and crush them, every one?”