The Texan Star | Page 3

of
drum and fife, until it died away, and they heard only the usual murmur
of the city. Then the homesickness, the longing for the great free
country to the north grew upon him and became almost overpowering.
"Someone comes," said Austin.
They heard the sound of the heavy bar that closed the door being
moved from its place.
"Our dinner, doubtless," said Austin, "but it is early."
The door swung wide and a young Mexican officer entered. He was
taller and fairer than most of his race, evidently of pure Northern
Spanish blood, and his countenance was frank and fine.
"Welcome, Lieutenant," said Stephen Austin, speaking in Spanish,
which he, as well as Ned, understood perfectly. "You know that we are
always glad to see you here."
Lieutenant Alfonso de Zavala smiled in a quick, responsive way, but in
a moment his face became grave.
"I announce a visitor, a most distinguished visitor, Mr. Austin," he said.
"General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, President of the Mexican
Republic and Commander-in-chief of its armies and navies."
Both Mr. Austin and the boy arose and bowed as a small man of middle
years, slender and nervous, strode into the room, standing for a few
moments near its center, and looking about him like a questing hawk.
His was, in truth, an extraordinary presence. He seemed to radiate an
influence that at once attracted and repelled. His dark features were cut
sharply and clearly. His eyes, set closely together, were of the most
intense black that Ned had ever seen in a human head. Nor were those
eyes ever at rest. They roamed over everything, and they seemed to
burn every object for the single instant they fell there. They never met
the gaze of either American squarely, although they continually came

back to both.
This man was clothed in a white uniform, heavy with gold stripes and
gold epaulets. A small sword at his side had a gold hilt set with a
diamond. He wore a three-cornered hat shaped like that of Napoleon,
but instead of the Corsican's simple gray his was bright in color and
splendid with plumage.
He was at once a powerful and sinister figure. Ned felt that he was in
the presence of genius, but it belonged to one of those sinuous creatures,
shining and terrible, that are bred under the vivid sun of the tropics.
There was a singular sensation at the roots of his hair, but, resolved to
show neither fear nor apprehension, he stood and gazed directly at
Santa Anna.
"Be seated, Mr. Austin," said the General, "and close the door, de
Zavala, but remain with us. Your young relative can remain, also. I
have things of importance to say, but it is not forbidden to him, also, to
hear them."
Ned sat down and so did Mr. Austin and young de Zavala, but Santa
Anna remained standing. It seemed to Ned that he did so because he
wished to look down upon them from a height. And all the time the
black eyes, like two burning coals, played restlessly about the room.
Ned was unable to take his own eyes away. The figure in its gorgeous
uniform was so full of nervous energy that it attracted like a magnet,
while at the same time it bade all who opposed to beware. The boy felt
as if he were before a splendid leopard with no bars of a cage between.
Santa Anna took three or four rapid steps back and forth. He kept his
hat upon his head, a right, it seemed, due to his superiority to other
people. He looked like a man who had a great thought which he was
shaping into quick words. Presently he stopped before Austin, and shot
him one of those piercing glances.
"My friend and guest," he said in the sonorous Spanish.

Austin bowed. Whether the subtle Mexican meant the words in satire or
in earnest he did not know, nor did he care greatly.
"When I call you my friend and guest I speak truth," said Santa Anna.
"It is true that we had you brought here from Saltillo, and we insist that
you accept our continued hospitality, but it is because we know how
devoted you are to our common Mexico, and we would have you here
at our right hand for advice and help."
Ned saw Mr. Austin smile a little sadly. It all seemed very strange to
the boy. How could one talk of friendship and hospitality to those
whom he held as prisoners? Why could not these people say what they
meant? Again he longed for the free winds of the plains.
"You and I together should be able to quiet these troublesome Texans,"
continued Santa Anna--and his voice had a hard metallic quality