Despite himself, Ned uttered a sigh.
"What is the matter with you?" asked Urrea, sharply. "Are you already
weeping for the conquered?"
"You know that I am not," replied Ned. "You need not believe me, but I
regret that I am not in the Alamo with my friends."
"It's an idle wish," said Urrea, "but I am taking you now to General
Santa Anna. Then I leave, and I go there! Look, the horsemen!"
He extended his hand, and Ned saw his eyes kindling. The Mexican cavalry
were filing out in the dim dawn, troop after troop, the early light
falling across the blades of the lances, spurs and bridles jingling. All
rode well, and they made a thrilling picture, as they rode steadily on,
curving about the old fortress.
"I shall soon be with them," said Urrea in a tone of pride. "We shall
see that not a single one of your Texans escapes from the Alamo."
Ned felt that choking in his throat again, but he deemed it wiser to
keep silent. They were going toward the main plaza now, and he saw
masses of troops gathered in the streets. These men were generally
silent, and he noticed that their faces expressed no elation. He divined
at once that they were intended for the assault, and they had no cause
for joy.
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