The flowers and the palms rippled
gently under a light breeze, but Ned did not hear them. He was waiting
to hear Cos speak of what was in the mind of himself and the other men
on the piazza, the same things that were in the minds of the Texans in
the shrubbery.
"Have you any further word from the Texan desperadoes, General?" asked
Veramendi, at last.
Swish went the general's cane, and a flower fell from its stem.
"Nothing direct," he replied, his voice rising in anger.
"They have not sent again demanding my surrender knowing that a
messenger would be shot. The impudence of these border horsemen passes
all belief. How dare a few hundred such men undertake to besiege us here
in San Antonio? What an insult to Mexico!"
"But they can fight," said Ugartchea. "They ride and shoot like demons.
They will give us trouble."
"I know it," said Cos, "but the more trouble they make us the more they
shall suffer. It was an evil day when the first American was allowed to
come into Texas."
"Yet they will attack us here," persisted Ugartchea, "They have driven
our men off the prairies. Our lances are not a match for their rifles.
Your pardon, General, but it will be wise for us to fortify still
further."
Cos frowned and made another wicked sweep with the cane.
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