“Everything dreadful, everything cruel, and monstrous, and inhuman! Among the angels in heaven there is sorrow and anger this night.” His voice had in it all the pathos of tears, but tears mingled with a burning indignation. “The Alamo has fallen!” “Senorita Antonia, I would give my soul to undo this day’s work. It is a disgrace to Mexico which centuries cannot wipe out.” “The Americans?” “Are all with the Merciful One.” “Not one saved?” “Not one.” “Impossible!” “I will tell you. It is right to tell the whole world such an infamy. If I had little children I would take them on my knee and teach them the story. I heard it from the lips of one wet-shod with their blood, dripping crimson from the battle--my own cousin, Xavier. He was with General Castrillon’s division. They began their attack at four in the morning, and after two hours’ desperate fighting succeeded in reaching a courtyard of the Alamo. “They found the windows and doors barricaded with bags of earth. Behind these the Americans fought hand to hand with despairing valor. Ramires, Siesma and Batres led the columns, and Santa Anna gave the signal of battle from a battery near the bridge. When the second charge was driven back, he became furious. He put himself in front of the men, and with shouts and oaths led them to the third charge. Xavier said that he inspired them with his own frenzy. They reached the foot of the wall, and the ladders were placed in position. The officers fell to the rear and forced the men to ascend them. As they reached the top they were stabbed, and the ladders overturned. Over and over, and over again these attempts were made, until the garrison in the Alamo were exhausted with the struggle.” Navarro paused a few minutes, overpowered by his emotions. No one spoke. He could see Antonia’s face, white as a spirit’s, in the dim light, and he knew that Isabel was weeping and that the Senora had taken his hand. “At last, at the hour of ten, the outer wall was gained. Then, room by room was taken with slaughter incredible. There were fourteen Americans in the hospital. They fired their rifles and pistols from their pallets with such deadly aim that Milagros turned a cannon shotted with grape and canister upon them. They were blown to pieces, but at the entrance of the door they left forty dead Mexicans.” “Ah Senor, Senor! tell me no more. My heart can not endure it.” “Mi madre,” answered Isabel, “we must hear it all. Without it, one cannot learn to hate Santa Anna sufficiently”; and her small, white teeth snapped savagely, as she touched the hand of Lopez with an imperative “Proceed.” “Colonel Bowie was helpless in bed. Two Mexican officers fired at him, and one ran forward to stab him ere he died. The dying man caught his murderer by the hair of his head, and plunged his knife into his heart. They went to judgment at the same moment.”