Santa
Anna would soon crush the mutinous Texans in the wild north. Gringos
they were, always pushing where they were not wanted, and, however hard
their fate, they would deserve it. The vein of cruelty which, despite
great virtues, has made Spain a by-word among nations, showed in her
descendants.
But the boy, Edward Fulton, sleeping in the chapel of the great
cathedral, knew nothing of it all. Nature, too long defrauded, was
claiming payment of her debt, and he slept peacefully on, although the
hours passed and noon came.
The church had long been open. Priests came and went in the aisles, and
entered some of the chapels. Worshipers, most of them women, knelt
before the shrines. Service was held at the high altar, and the odor of
incense filled the great nave. Yet the boy was still in sanctuary, and a
kindly angel was watching over him. No one entered the chapel in which
he slept.
It was almost the middle of the afternoon when he awoke. He heard a
faint murmur of voices and a pleasant odor came to his nostrils. He
quickly remembered everything, and, stirring a little on his wooden
couch he found a certain stiffness in the joints. He realized however
that all his strength had come back.
But Ned Fulton understood, although he had escaped from prison and had
found shelter and sanctuary in the cathedral, that he was yet in an
extremely precarious position.
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