were tunnels,
wrecked houses and masses of stone and adobe. The appearance of the
young prisoner aroused the greatest curiosity among both soldiers and
people. He heard often the word "Texano." Women frequently looked down
at him from the flat roofs, and some spoke in pity.

Ned was silent. He was resolved not to ask Urrea any questions or to
give him a chance to show triumph. He noticed that they were advancing
toward the plaza, and then they turned into the Veramendi house, which
he had cause to remember so well.

"This was the home of the Vice-Governor," said Urrea, "and General Santa
Anna is here."

"I know the place," said Ned. "I am proud to have been one of the Texans
who took it on a former occasion."

"We lost it then, but we have it now and we'll keep it," said Urrea. "My
men will wait with you here in the courtyard, and I'll see if our
illustrious general is ready to receive you."

Ned waited patiently. Urrea was gone a full half hour, and, when he
returned, he said:

"The general was at breakfast with his staff. He had not quite finished,
but he is ready to receive you now."

Then Urrea led the way into the Veramendi house. Luxurious fittings had
been put in, but many of the rents and scars from the old combat were
yet visible. They entered the great dining room, and, once more, Ned
stood face to face with the most glorious general, the most illustrious
dictator, Don Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna. But Ned alone stood. The
dictator sat at the head of the table, about which were Castrillon,
Sesma, Cos, Gaona, the Italian, Filisola and others. It seemed to Ned
that he had come not only upon a breakfast but upon a conference as
well.

The soldiers who had guarded Ned stepped back, Urrea stood by the wall,
and the boy was left to meet the fixed gaze of Santa Anna. The dictator
wore a splendid uniform, as usual. His face seemed to Ned fuller and
more flushed than when they had last met in Mexico. The marks of
dissipation were there. Ned saw him slip a little silver box from the
pocket of his waistcoat and take from it a pinch of a dark drug, which
he ate. It was opium, but the Mexican generals seemed to take no note of
it.

Santa Anna's gaze was fixed and piercing, as if he would shoot terror
into the soul of his enemy--a favorite device of his--but Ned withstood
it. Then Santa Anna, removing his stare from his face, looked him slowly
up and down. The generals said nothing, waiting upon their leader, wh