the feeling passed as he watched Santa Anna. A young officer rushed
forward and held his stirrup as the dictator dismounted. Then the
generals, including those who had come with him, crowded around him. It
was a brilliant company, including Sesma, Cos, Duque, Castrillon, Tolsa,
Gaona and others, among whom Ned noted a man of decidedly Italian
appearance. This was General Vincente Filisola, an Italian officer who
had received a huge grant of land in Texas, and who was now second in
command to Santa Anna.

Ned watched them as they talked together and occasionally the crowd
parted enough for him to see Santa Anna, who spoke and gesticulated with
great energy. The soldiers had been drawn away by the minor officers,
and were now dispersing to their places by the fires where they would
seek sleep.

Ned noticed a trim, slender figure on the outer edge of the group around
Santa Anna. It seemed familiar, and when the man turned he recognized
the face of Almonte, the gallant young Mexican colonel who had been kind
to him. He was sorry to see him there. He was sorry that he should have
to fight against him.

Santa Anna went presently to a great marquée that had been prepared for
him, and the other generals retired also to the tents that had been set
about it. The dictator was tired from his long ride and must not be
disturbed. Strict orders were given that there should be no noise in the
camp, and it quickly sank into silence.

Ned lay down before one of the fires at the western end of the camp
wrapped as before in his serape. He counterfeited sleep, but nothing was
further from his mind. It seemed to him that he had done all he could do