In went Ned and Lee, and there was no difficulty in obtaining an interview with Captain Hamilton. Ned had never heard of him before, but he was now aware, from Captain Lee, that he was a descendant of General Philip Schuyler and General Alexander Hamilton of the Revolutionary War. Ned thought of Señora Tassara’s great ancestors for a moment, and then he did not really care a cent for pedigree. He even startled Hamilton himself by the energy and rapidity with which he told what he knew of the condition of things throughout the country, the movements of Santa Anna, and the political plots and conspiracies. Hamilton was a slender, graceful young man, handsomer than even Lee, and with piercing black eyes.
“Lee,” he said, “the cub is a genuine curiosity. I can’t imagine how on earth he learned so much. He isn’t a fool, by any means. General Scott will be at liberty in a few minutes, and Crawford must see him.”
“All right,” said Lee. “I have my instructions now, and I’ll leave him with you. They say the old castle’s badly knocked in pieces.”
If, as Lee intimated, the fortress of San Juan de Ulua was just then in bad condition, so was Ned when he heard what they were going to do with him. He had supposed that his errand had been completely done to the sharp-eyed staff officer, but now they threatened to bring him before the general, whom he considered the most tremendous man on the earth. It was a little too much, but he drew a long breath and stood as straight as a ramrod, looking very red indeed. In three minutes more he was brought face to face with the commander-in-chief of the armies of the United States, and he felt as if he had been surrounded and compelled to surrender. Captain Hamilton reported the matter in the fewest words possible, but all the while the general had been watching Ned, looking right through him, and in a moment Ned found himself feeling perfectly easy. If General Scott had been his uncle, he could not have spoken to him in a kinder or more carelessly familiar way. He questioned him about all his experiences, and an acute listener might have gathered that he paid more attention to Ned’s political information than to anything of a strictly military nature.
“Hamilton,” he slowly remarked, at last, “General Taylor did an exceedingly good thing for us down here, after all. The battle of Buena Vista was our own battle. Santa Anna will not be able to raise another army like the one that was so roughly handled up there. If it had been here, in good shape, we would have had ten times as much trouble in taking Vera Cruz. Santa Anna’s power is already half broken.”
“Perhaps a little more,” suggested Hamilton.
“Perhaps,” said the general, “but our patriotic young friend here has made a valuable report. Ah, McClellan! You and Beauregard are to make the inspection of the castle with Captain Lee. Take Crawford back to Grant, as you go. He may serve with the Seventh as an unenlisted man. Let him have his orders, Hamilton. He is a brave fellow.”
Out went Ned with a pair of as yet undistinguished officers, both of whom were to be heard of again in after time, and it did not occur to the very much elated “scout,” as he now considered himself, to correct General Scott’s apparent idea that Lieutenant Ulysses S. Grant was a particular friend and guardian of his.
“Now, if this isn’t bully!” he thought. “I’ve been on the Mexican side all the while till now. I’ve been kind of part of the garrison of Vera Cruz, but I’ve been praised by General Scott, for all that. I wonder what our folks at home would say to it!”
It was a grand thing to think of, and Ned felt as proud as if he had been promoted for storming an enemy’s entrenchments.