IN RODE THE VERY AIRY CAPTAIN OF LANCERS
That was the sum and substance of the letter he shortly delivered to Travis, after dismounting and exchanging formal compliments. Added to it, however, was the grim assurance that, in case of resistance, the fort would be stormed at once and no quarter whatever would be shown to the garrison.
"Good!" said Travis, smilingly. "No use in my writing. Go back to the general and tell him to come on. We are ready."
"Is that all?" exclaimed the astonished captain. "Are you mad? Do you really intend to resist us?"
"Travis," whispered Crockett, "tell him to say that if they'll march right hum and agree to stay thar, we won't hurt a soul of 'em."
The captain heard him, and his astonishment showed itself more plainly, but the reply of Travis was strictly formal.
"That is all," he said. "He knows me. Tell him I am in command here. We shall hold the Alamo!"
Low bowed the captain, turning to his horse, and in a moment more he was spurring beyond the gate, and it closed clangingly behind him. There was really nothing more for the bugler to do, but he blew his horn furiously before he galloped away.
"It'll take something better'n bugle music to get the Greasers over those walls," remarked Crockett; but the long eighteen-pounder was now at one of the southerly embrasures, and, at a signal from Travis, a thunder of defiance rang out.