set the match? Such waiting was the pitch of
cruelty.

"Cos, my brother," said Santa Anna to the swart general, "take your
command. It was here that the Texan rebels humiliated you, and it is
here that you shall have full vengeance."

Cos saluted, and strode away. He was to lead one of the attacking
columns.

"Colonel Duque," said Santa Anna to another officer, "you are one of the
bravest of the brave. You are to direct the attack on the northern wall,
and may quick success go with you."

Duque glowed at the compliment, and he, too, strode away to the head of
his column.

"Colonel Romero," said Santa Anna, "the third column is yours, and the
fourth is yours, Colonel Morales. Take your places and, at the signal
agreed, the four columns will charge with all their strength. Let us see
which will be the first in the Alamo."

The two colonels saluted as the others had done, and joined their
columns.

The bar of gray in the east was still broadening, but the sun itself did
not yet show. The walls of the Alamo were still dim, and Ned could not
see whether any figures were there. Santa Anna had put a pair of
powerful glasses to his eyes, but when he took them down he said nothing
of what he had seen.

"Are all the columns provided?" he said to General Sesma, who stood
beside him.

"They have everything," replied Sesma, "crowbars, axes, scaling ladders.
Sir, they cannot fail!"

"No, they cannot," said Santa Anna exultantly. "These Texan rebels fight
like demons, but we have now a net through which they cannot break.
General Gaona, see that the bands are ready and direct them to play the
Deguelo when the signal for the charge is given."

Ned shivered again. The "Deguelo" meant the "cutting-of-throats," and
it, too, was to be the signal of no quarter. He remembered the red flag,
and he looked up. It hung, as ever, on the tower of the church of San
Fernando, and its scarlet folds moved slowly in the light morning
breeze. General Gaona returned.

"The bands are ready, general," he said, "and when the signal is given
they will play the air that you have chosen."

A Mexican, trumpet in hand, was standing near. Santa Anna turned and
said to him the single word:

"Blow!"

The man lifted the trumpet to his lips, and blew a long note that
swelled to its fullest pitch, then died away in a soft echo.

It was the signal. A tremendous cry burst from the vast ring of the
thousands, and it was taken up by the shrill voice