About ten o’clock of the morning of the 22d, a horseman was seen coming toward the camp at full speed. Women and children stood breathlessly waiting his approach. No one could speak. If a child moved, the movement was angrily reproved. The tension was too great to admit of a touch through any sense. Some, unable to bear the extended strain, sank upon the ground and covered their faces with their hands. But the half-grown children, wan with privations and fever, ragged and barefoot, watched steadily the horse and its rider, their round, gleaming eyes full of wonder and fear.
“It is Thomas,” said the Senora.
As he came near, and the beat of the horse’s hoofs could be heard, a cry almost inarticulate, not to be described, shrill and agonizing in its intensity, broke simultaneously from the anxious women. It was one cry from many hearts, all at the last point of endurance. Thomas Worth understood it. He flung his hat up, and answered with a joyful “Hurrah!”
When he reached the camp, every face was wet with tears, and a crowd of faces was instantly round him. All the agonies of war were on them. He raised himself in his stirrups and shouted out:
“You may all go back to your homes! Santa Anna is completely overthrown! The Mexican army is destroyed! There will be no more fighting, no more fears. The independence of Texas is won! No matter where you come from, YOU ARE ALL TEXANS NOW! Victory! Freedom! Peace! My dear friends, go back to your homes. Your husbands will join you at the San Jacinto.”
Then he dismounted and sought his mother and sisters. With joyful amazement he recognized the change in the Senora. “You look like yourself, dear mother,” he said. “Father sends you this kiss. He would have brought it, but there are a few wounded men to look after; and also I can ride quicker. Antonia, cheer up my dear!—and Isabel, little darling, you will not need to cry any more for your ribbons, and mantillas, and pretty dresses.”
“Thomas! You have not much feeling, I think. What I want to know about, is Luis. You think of no one; and, as for my dresses, and mantillas, I dare say Fray Ignatius has sold, or burned them.”
“Queridita! Was I cruel? Luis is well. He has not a scratch. He was in the front of the battle, too.”
“THAT, of course. Would you imagine that Luis would be at the rear? He is General Houston’s friend, and one lion knows another lion.”
“Pretty one, do not be angry with me. I will tell you some good news. Luis is coming here, unless you go back at once with me.”