s of the women on the
flat roofs of the houses. The great circle of cavalrymen shook their
lances and sabers until they glittered.

When the last echo of the trumpet's dying note was gone the bands began
to play with their utmost vigor the murderous tune that Santa Anna had
chosen. Then four columns of picked Mexican troops, three thousand
strong, rushed toward the Alamo. Santa Anna and the generals around him
were tremendously excited. Their manner made no impression upon Ned
then, but he recalled the fact afterward.

The boy became quickly unconscious of everything except the charge of
the Mexicans and the Alamo. He no longer remembered that he was a
prisoner. He no longer remembered anything about himself. The cruel
throb of that murderous tune, the Deguelo, beat upon the drums of his
ears, and mingled with it came the sound of the charging Mexicans, the
beat of their feet, the clank of their arms, and the shouts of their
officers.

Whatever may be said of the herded masses of the Mexican troops, the
Mexican officers were full of courage. They were always in advance,
waving their swords and shouting to their men to come on. Another silver
gleam flashed through the gray light of the early morning, ran along the
edges of swords and lances, and lingered for a moment over the dark
walls of the Alamo.

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