Carlos, who had been the most amiable of men, basking in the firelight,
now rose up a little and his eyes flashed. He had excited himself by his
own tale of the battle and loot of Zacatecas and the coming slaughter of
the Texans. That strain of cruelty, which in Ned's opinion always lay
embedded in the Spanish character, was coming to the surface.

Ned made no comment. His serape, drawn up to his nose, almost met the
brim of his sombrero and nobody suspected that the comrade who sat and
chatted with them was a Gringo, but he shivered again, nevertheless.

"We shall have a great force when it is all gathered," he said at
length.

"Seven thousand men or more," said José proudly, "and nearly all of them
are veterans of the wars. We shall have ten times the numbers of the
Texans, who are only hunters and rancheros."

"Have you heard when we march?" asked Ned, in a careless tone.

"As soon as the great Santa Anna arrives it will be decided, I doubt
not," said José. "The general and his escort should be here by
midnight."

Ned's heart gave a leap. So it was that for which they were waiting.
Santa Anna himself would come in an hour or two. He was very glad that
he had entered the Mexican camp. Bidding a courteous good night to the
men about the fire, he rose and sauntered on. It was easy enough for him
to do so without attracting attention, as many others were doing the
same thing. Discipline seldom amounted to much in a Mexican army, and so
confident were both officers and soldiers of an overwhelming victory