“Señor Carfora!” quickly interrupted Señorita Felicia. “He was hit in the leg by a bullet at Angostura. He had a bayonet wound, too, and they thought he would die, but they made him a general—”
“I am getting better, Carfora,” said General Tassara, courageously, “but I can do no more fighting just now. I sincerely wish that there might not be any. The plans of Santa Anna—”
“Tassara!” exclaimed Zuroaga. “What we heard is true. He is utterly ruined. But the peace terms are rejected by all the government we have left, and our city defences must soon go down as did those at Cerro Gordo, Contreras, and Churubusco. We are to hear more about those affairs from Señor Carfora. He was an eye witness of them.”
“Oh, my dear young friend,” said Señora Tassara, “were you with the American army in all those battles?”
“No, not exactly,” said Ned. “I was with General Morales at Vera Cruz. Then I came on with General Scott all the way from the seacoast to this place. He has troops enough now, and he will fight his way in. I’m real sorry about it, too, for no more men need to be killed.”
“I think the gringos are just terrible,” said Felicia, as she came over and sat down by Ned. “I want to hear about them. I do hope they won’t be defeated now, though, for if they are nobody can guess who will be Emperor of Mexico when they are driven away.”
“She is not so far wrong,” said Tassara, sadly. “The future of our country is all in the dark. Please let us hear your report.”
Pablo, of course, had not followed his superiors into the parlor, and all who were there were free to discuss the situation. The morning sun was looking in at the windows when all of the talk was finished. Ned had learned that only the family and a few trusted servants remained in the house, but he would have eaten his breakfast with even a more complete sense of security from any emissaries of the military authorities if he had known how much they had upon their hands that day, the 4th of September, 1847. There had already been a sharp correspondence between the commanders of the two armies, and now General Scott himself declared the armistice at an end. All the angry patriotism of the Mexican people arose to meet the emergency, and every possible preparation was rapidly made for the last desperate struggle in defence of their capital. It was as if the idea prevailed that, if this American force now here could be defeated, the United States would give the matter up, instead of sending more troops to the assistance of their first insufficient battalions.
“Señor Carfora,” said Senorita Felicia, “you must not go out of the house. I do not want you to be killed.”
“That is so,” added her father. “As the affair stands now, they would surely regard you as a spy. You would be shot without a trial. All is confusion. I fear that even General Zuroaga is safe from arrest only among his own men. The army is the government. This nation needs a change.”