No sound came from the mission, not a shot, not a cry. Were they asleep?
Was it possible that every man, overpowered by fatigue, had fallen into
slumber at such a moment? Could such as Crockett and Bowie and Travis be
blind to their danger? Such painful questions raced through Ned's mind.
He felt a chill run down his spine. Yet his breath was like fire to his
lips.
"Nothing will stop them!" cried Santa Anna. "The Texans cower before
such a splendid force! They will lay down their arms!"
Ned felt his body growing colder and colder, and there was a strange
tingling at the roots of the hair. Now the people upon the roofs were
shouting their utmost, and the voices of many women united in one
shrill, piercing cry. But he never turned to look at them. His eyes were
always on the charging host which converged so fast upon the Alamo.
The trumpet blew another signal, and there was a crash so loud that it
made Ned jump. All the Mexican batteries had fired at once over the
heads of their own troops at the Alamo. While the gunners reloaded the
smoke of the discharge drifted away and the Alamo still stood silent.
But over it yet hung a banner on which was written in great letters the
word, "Texas.
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