The Texan Star | Page 2

he looked once
more through the window and over the city at the vast white peaks of
Popocatepetl and Ixtaccihuatl silent and immutable, forever guarding
the sky-line. Yet they seemed to call to him at this moment and tell him
of freedom. The words of the man had touched a spring within him and
he wanted to go. He could not conceal from himself the fact that he
longed for liberty with every pulse and fiber. But he resolved,
nevertheless, to stay. He would not desert the one whom he had come
to serve.

Stephen Austin, the real founder of Texas, had now been in prison in
Mexico more than a year. Coming to Saltillo to secure for the Texans
better treatment from the Mexicans, their rulers, he had been seized and
held as a criminal. The boy, Edward Fulton, was not really his nephew,
but an orphan, the son of a cousin. He owed much to Austin and
coming to the capital to help him he was sharing his imprisonment.
"They say that Santa Anna now has the power," said Ned, breaking the
somber silence.
"It is true," said Stephen Austin, "and it is a new and strong reason why
I fear for our people. Of all the cunning and ambitious men in Mexico,
Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna is the most cunning and ambitious. I
know, too, that he is the most able, and I believe that he is the most
dangerous to those of us who have settled in Texas. What a country is
this Mexico! Revolution after revolution! You make a treaty with one
president to-day and to-morrow another disclaims it! More than one of
them has a touch of genius, and yet it is obscured by childishness and
cruelty!"
He sighed heavily. Ned, full of sympathy, glanced at him but said
nothing. Then his gaze turned back to the mighty peaks which stood so
sharp and clear against the blue. Truth and honesty were the most
marked qualities of Stephen Austin and he could not understand the
vast web of intrigue in which the Mexican capital was continually
involved. And to the young mind of the boy, cast in the same mold, it
was yet more baffling and repellent.
Ned still stared at the guardian peaks, but his thoughts floated away
from them. His head had been full of old romance when he entered the
vale of Tenochtitlan. He had almost seen Cortez and the conquistadores
in their visible forms with their armor clanking about them as they
stalked before him. He had gazed eagerly upon the lakes, the mighty
mountains, the low houses and the strange people. Here, deeds of
which the world still talked had been done centuries ago and his thrill
was strong and long. But the feeling was gone now. He had liked many
of the Mexicans and many of the Mexican traits, but he had felt with
increasing force that he could never reach out his hand and touch

anything solid. He thought of volcanic beings on a volcanic soil.
The throb of a drum came from the street below, and presently the
shrill sound of fifes was mingled with the steady beat. Ned stood up
and pressed his head as far forward as the bars of the window would let
him.
"Soldiers, a regiment, I think," he said. "Ah, I can see them now! What
brilliant uniforms their officers wear!"
Austin also looked out.
"Yes," he said. "They know how to dress for effect. And their music is
good, too. Listen how they play."
It was a martial air, given with a splendid lilt and swing. The tune crept
into Ned's blood and his hand beat time on the stone sill. But the music
increased his longing for liberty. His thoughts passed away from the
narrow street and the marching regiment to the North, to the wild free
plains beyond the Rio Grande. It was there that his heart was, and it
was there that his body would be.
"It is General Cos who leads them," said Austin. "I can see him now,
riding upon a white horse. It's the man in the white and silver uniform,
Ned."
"He's the brother-in-law of Santa Anna, is he not?"
"Yes, and I fear him. I know well, Ned, that he hates the Texans--all of
us."
"Perhaps the regiment that we see now is going north against our
people."
Austin's brows contracted.
"It may be so," he said. "They give soft words all the time, and yet they
hold me a prisoner here. It would be like them to strike while
pretending to clear away all the troubles between us."

He sighed again. Ned watched the soldiers until the last of them had
passed the window, and then he listened to the music, the sound