Ned recognized him at
once. It was the general, the president, the dictator, the father of his
country, the illustrious Santa Anna himself.
The mellow trumpet pealed forth again, and Santa Anna advanced to meet
his brother, Cos, who likewise advanced to meet him. They met in full
view of both forces, and embraced and kissed each other. Then a shout
came forth from hundreds of throats at the noble spectacle of fraternal
amity. The two forces coalesced with much Latin joy and chatter, and
camp was pitched in the savanna.
Ned stayed with the Tlascalans, because he had no choice but to do so.
They flung him a tortilla or two, and he had plenty of water, but what
he wanted most was rest. He threw himself on the grass, and, as the
Tlascalans did not disturb him, he lay there until long after
nightfall. He would have remained there until morning had not two
soldiers come with a message that he was wanted by Santa Anna himself.
Ned rose, smoothed out his hair, draped his serape as gracefully as he
could about his shoulders, and, assuming all the dignity that was
possible, went with the men. He had made up his mind that boldness of
manner and speech was his best course and it suited his spirit. He was
led into a large tent or rather a great marquee, and he stood there for
a few moments dazzled.
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