onical, and Ned, who had no wish to quarrel at such a time, was glad
of it.

"As General Santa Anna told you," said Urrea, "the assault is to be made
in overwhelming force early in the morning. It will succeed, of course.
Nothing can prevent it. Through the man Roylston, you have some claim
upon the general, but it may not be strong enough to save you long. A
service now might make his pardon permanent."

"What do you mean by a service now?"

"A few words as to the weaker points of the Alamo, the best places for
our troops to attack. You cannot do anything for the defenders. You
cannot alter their fate in any particular, but you might do something
for yourself."

Ned did not wish to appear dramatic. He merely turned his back upon the
young Mexican.

"Very well," said Urrea, "I made you the offer. It was for you to accept
it or not as you wish."

He left him upon the roof, and Ned saw the last rim of the red sun sink
in the plain. He saw the twilight come, and the Alamo fade into a dim
black bulk in the darkness. He thought once that he heard a cry of a
sentinel from its walls, "All's well," but he knew that it was only
fancy. The distance was far too great. Besides, all was not well.

When the darkness had fully come, he descended with his two benevolent
jailers to a lower part of the house, where he was assigned to a small
room, with a single barred window and without the possibility of escape.
His guards, after bringing him food and water, gave him a polite good
night and went outside. He knew that they would remain on watch in the
hall.

Ned could eat and drink but little. Nor could he yet sleep. The night
was far too heavy upon him for slumber. Besides, it had brought many
noises, significant noises that he knew. He heard the rumble of cannon
wheels over the rough pavements, and the shouts of men to the horses or
mules. He heard troops passing, now infantry, and then cavalry, the
hoofs of their horses grinding upon the stones.

He pressed his face against the barred window. He was eager to hear and
yet more eager to see. He caught glimpses only of horse and foot as they
passed, but he knew what all those sights and sounds portended. In the
night the steel coil of the Mexicans was being drawn closer and closer
about the Alamo.

Brave and resolute, he was only a boy after all. He felt deserted of all
men. He wanted to be back there with Crockett and Bowie and Travis and
the others. The water came into his