“Fannin makes only the one error in that letter,” spoke Colonel George Hockley, who was the general’s aide. “A man who will ‘never give up the ship’ can be killed but he can’t be whipped.”
“If the Alamo can hold out until we relieve it, there will be no danger to Fannin,” mused the general. “And if he will obey the orders of his superiors, whoever they may be,——”
But a sudden shout from the convention hall interrupted him. The cries swelled, spreading to the crowd outside the door.
“Houston! Houston! Speech! Speech!”
A man came running.
“You’re wanted inside the hall, general,” he said. “You’ve been elected commander-in-chief, on first ballot; fifty-five votes for you, only one against.”
“I accept,” remarked the general, solemnly. “I will be there directly, but this is a time for acting, not for talking.”
He strode for the convention hall, and most of the group with him. Ernest squirmed in. The general appeared on the rude platform, and spoke briefly, thanking the convention and the people of Texas for the honor paid to him. Scarcely had he concluded when a delegate arose.
“I move that it be the sense of this convention that Major-General Sam Houston immediately depart for the army, or resign.”
A storm of cheers and hisses followed. The general waited. He levelled his finger at the delegate, and answered for himself.