“Are you forgetful of what is moral and respectable, Antonia? That a young lady should write to Lopez Navarro--a man that is unmarried--is such a thing as never before happened! He would think the world had come to an end, or worse.” “Dear mother! In a time of trouble like this, who would think wrong of us? Surely you might write.” “As you say, Antonia. Tell me, then, who will take the letter.” “The peon Ortiz will take it. This morning he brought in wood and kindled the fire, and I saw in his face the kindness of his heart.” After some further persuasion, the Senora agreed to write; and Ortiz undertook the commission, with a nod of understanding. Then there remained nothing to be done but to listen and to watch. Fortunately, however, Rachela found the centre of interest among the servants in the kitchen; and the Senora and her daughter could converse without espionage. Just after sunset a letter arrived from Navarro. Rachela lingered in the room to learn its contents. But the Senora, having read them, passed the letter to Antonia and Isabel; and Rachela saw with anger that Antonia, having carefully considered it, threw it into the fire. And yet the news it brought was not unfavorable: “SENORA MARIA FLORES WORTH: “I send this on December the fifth, in the year of our Blessed Lord and Lady 1835. It is my honor and pleasure to tell you that the Americans, having performed miracles of valor, reached the Plaza this afternoon. Here the main body of the Mexican troops received them, and there has been severe fighting. At sunset, the Mexicans retreated within the Alamo. The Texans have taken possession of the Veramendi House, and the portion of the city surrounding it. There has been a great slaughter of our poor countrymen. I charge myself whenever I pass the Plaza, to say a paternoster for the souls who fell there. Senora Maria Flores Worth, I kiss your hands. I kiss also the hands of the Senorita Antonia, and the hands of the Senorita Isabel, and I make haste to sign myself, “Your servant, “LOPEZ NAVARRO.” This little confidence between mother and daughters restored the tone of feeling between them. They had something to talk of, personal and exclusive. In the fear and uncertainty, they forgot priestly interdiction and clung to each other with that affection which is the strength of danger and the comforter of sorrow. On the following day the depression deepened. The sounds of battle were closer at hand. The Mexican servants had an air of insolence and triumph. Antonia feared for the evening’s report--if indeed Navarro should be able to send one. She feared more when she saw the messenger early in the afternoon. “Too early is often worse than too late.” The proverb shivered upon her trembling lips as she took the letter from him. The three women read it together, with sinking hearts: