She brought him to the table, and when he refused to sit in her presence, she said frankly, “Captain Ortiz, you are our friend and not our servant. Rest and refresh yourself.”
He bent upon one knee and kissed the hand she offered, and without further remonstrance obeyed her desire. Isabel came in shortly, and with the tact of true kindness she made no remark, but simply took the chair beside Ortiz, and said, in her usual voice and manner: “Good morning, Captain. We are glad to see you. Did you meet my brother Thomas again?”
“Senorita, God be with you! I have not seen him. I was at Goliad.”
“Then you would see our brother Juan?”
“Si. The Senor Juan is in good health and great happiness. He sent by my willing hands a letter.”
“Perhaps also you saw his friend, Senor Grant?”
“From him, also, I received a letter. Into your gracious care, Senorita, I deliver them.”
“I thank you for your kindness, Captain. Tell us now of the fortress. Are the troops in good spirits?”
“Allow me to fear that they are in too good assurance of success. The most of the men are very young. They have not yet met our Lady of Sorrows. They have promised to themselves the independence of Texas. They will also conquer Mexico. There are kingdoms in the moon for them. I envy such exaltations—and regret them. GRACE OF GOD, Senorita! My heart ached to see the crowds of bright young faces. With a Napoleon—with a Washington to lead them—they would do miracles.”
“What say you to Houston?”