"Beyond a doubt!" declared the lieutenant, with emphasis. "It would serve him right, too. This is no time for trifling with orders."

A hearty dinner by a blazing log fire made the despatch-bearer feel a great deal better, but at the end of it no mercy was shown him. His fresh pony was ready, and he was ordered to mount and ride. He did so without offering any objections, and he carried with him the lieutenant's written pa.s.s, for possible use further down the mountain.

It was a good thing to have, but he was called upon to present it only twice, receiving in each instance positive instructions to push onward if it killed him and his new pony.

"I can't stand this much longer!" he exclaimed, as the sun was setting.

"I'm almost beyond the snow-line. I think I'll disobey the guards a little, but I'll keep on obeying Senora Paez. She told me on no account to try to sleep in a large town or village. They are all military posts, and too many questions might be asked. I'll try a hacienda, just as I did on the other side of the mountains. Everybody wants to hear the news."

Everybody in that region was also genuinely hospitable, and it was barely dusk when Ned rode in at the gate of a substantial farmhouse, to be welcomed with the utmost cordiality. Men, women, and children crowded eagerly around him, to hear all he could tell them of the great battle and victory of Angostura, and of the current doings in the capital city.

A warm bed was given him, and after a long sleep he awoke somewhat better fitted for whatever else might be before him. Once more he pushed on, but before noon of that day all signs of winter were far behind him.

He had pa.s.sed through more than one considerable village, but so had other travellers, coming or going, who bore about them no appearance of being worth the attention of the military authorities. Another and another night in wayside farmhouses compelled him to admire more than ever the simple ways and the sincere patriotism of the Mexican farmers.

All the while, however, his anxieties concerning the result of his perilous errand were growing upon him, and he was obediently using up his army pony. It was the forenoon of the third day before he was aroused from his other thoughts into anything like enthusiasm for the exceeding beauty of the luxuriant vegetation on either side of the road.

"Leaves! flowers! gra.s.s!" he exclaimed. "Oh, how beautiful they all are!

Summer here, and winter only a few miles away. Hurrah for the _tierra caliente_! It's a bully place at this time o' year."

At all events, it was a pleasanter place to be in than any icy pa.s.s among the Mexican sierras, and his thoughts were at liberty to come back to his present situation. He was not now upon the Cordoba road, by which he had left the gulf coast ever so long ago. This was the highway from the city of Jalapa. He was cantering along only a short distance from the seash.o.r.e, and he was within a few miles of the gates of Vera Cruz.

"I remember them," he was thinking. "I never had a good chance for a look at the walls, but I suppose I shall have one pretty soon. I wonder if they are thick enough to stop a cannon-ball. Captain Kemp told me they were built all around the city, but he didn't say how high they are."

Walls there were, indeed, but their masonry was not the next thing that was to be of especial interest to Ned. There is no kind of stonework which can compare, under certain circ.u.mstances, with the point of a lance or the edge of a machete, and the bearers of a number of such weapons were to be seen coming toward him at a gallop.

"It looks like a whole company of lancers!" exclaimed the anxious despatch-carrier. "Now I'm in for it! Everybody I met on the way was civil enough, but these may be a different kind of fellows."

Whether they were or not, the whole force under General Morales was in a state of unusual excitement that day, for the report was going around that the American army brought by Commodore Connor's fleet was rapidly coming ash.o.r.e near Sacrificios Island, only three miles south of Vera Cruz. If Ned himself had been aware of it, he might have changed his plans and ridden right in among his own friends. As it was, however, in less than three minutes he had cantered in among a swarm of angry Mexicans and glittering spear-points. Their state of discipline was witnessed to by the fact that the captain in nominal command of them had some difficulty in obtaining from them permission to ask his own questions of this newcomer. When at last he succeeded in doing so, without first having his captive run through by a lance, it shortly looked as if Ned had been learning diplomacy, if not strategy also, during his varied and wonderful Mexican experiences.

"Senor Captain," he said, quite coolly, pulling out his official envelope, "I am ordered to deliver this to General Morales in person. I am commanded to answer no questions. Any man daring to hinder the delivery of my despatches will be shot. They are important."

"Where are you from?" came savagely back.

Ned only pointed at the envelope and shut his mouth hard.

"What is your errand to General Morales?"

Ned's brain was working with tremendous rapidity just then, and one of his swift thoughts got away from him.

"Captain," he said, "you had better ask that question of his Excellency, General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna."

The officer's swarthy face turned pale for a moment, and all the men who had heard Ned's reply broke out into loud vivas for their great commander-in-chief, the ill.u.s.trious victor of the b.l.o.o.d.y field of Angostura. The entire company became at once the zealous guardians of that sacred envelope, which so few of them could have read, and the captain was forced to restrain his curiosity, and allow Ned to continue, keeping his mouth closed. For all that, however, the despatch-bearer was still a prisoner, and was to be conducted as such to the presence of General Morales. The lancers turned their horses toward the city, and the gates were reached as quickly as Ned's tired pony could carry him.

At this barrier, of course, there were other guards and officers of higher rank, and there might have been further delay, or even danger, if Ned had not promptly exhibited the magical envelope, while the captain himself repeated his own words for him, and curtly added:

"His Excellency, General Bravo! Viva Morales! Viva Santa Anna!"

That last word sealed the matter. The envelope was returned to its bearer, and he was conducted onward under the care of two colonels, several other officials, and a half-dozen of watchful lancers.

Ned shortly understood that General Morales had returned from the Castle of San Juan de Ulua to go out for a telescopic inspection of the American landing, and was now at his headquarters in the city.

"I guess I shall feel better after I get to him," thought Ned, as he and his excited party halted before the headquarters building. "I may get stuck with a machete yet, if I have to wait long out here."

He was neither to be delayed nor slaughtered, and in a few minutes more he was ushered into a handsomely furnished chamber, where the general was sitting, apparently entirely calm and self-possessed, surrounded by his staff and a throng of other important men, soldiers and civilians.

He did not say a word while a colonel of the escort was delivering his report concerning this messenger, but he was all the while sharply scrutinizing Ned from head to foot.

"Gentlemen," he then said to those around him, "this may be something of extraordinary importance. Come with me, Carfora!"

He arose from his chair, and Ned silently followed him into another room. As soon as they were shut in here by themselves, he turned fiercely upon the young despatch-bearer and demanded:

"Have you said anything to those men? Have you told a living soul what you know about these tidings?"

"No, general, not one word to anybody," replied Ned, bravely, but there was a strange thrill at his heart, for he saw that he was in deadly peril.

Morales tore open the envelope, and found in it several official-looking papers which it did not take him long to read; but now Ned took out from an inner pocket three others which were much smaller. The general's face flushed fiery red, and his eyes were flashing with excitement while he swiftly examined them.

"Carfora," he exclaimed, "you are too young to have been sent on such an errand as this. General Bravo! Colonel Ta.s.sara! Senora Paez! General Zuroaga! Ah, Santa Maria! And our brave army was shattered at Angostura, after all. This is dreadful news! You shall die before I will allow you to spread it among my men!"

"I shall not do so," said Ned, with his heart in his throat "But may I not tell them that General Santa Anna has checked the invasion at the north? Ought I not to say that he is now marching down to defend the capital, and that he is going to strengthen your army at Vera Cruz? Why, general, that is just what he is going to do."

The general was silent for a moment, and appeared to be lost in thought.

"No, not now!" he then whispered between his set teeth, but Ned heard him. "If I shot him, it would make enemies of Zuroaga and the Ta.s.saras and Senora Paez. Bravo would not care. Carfora," he added, aloud, "you may go. You may talk as you have said, but you must not leave the city, and, if you say one word about our being defeated at Buena Vista, I will have you shot. There are too many desertions already, and I can't afford to have my whole army stampeded by bad news."

There was, therefore, an imperative military reason for keeping secret the truth concerning Santa Anna's great victory, and Ned responded:

"General Morales, everybody will be asking me questions. I guess I know exactly what you wish me to tell. I was ordered to keep my mouth shut."

"See that you do!" growled the general. "Or a musket-ball will shut it for you. Go out now. If I want you, I shall be able to find you."

They walked out of the inner room together, and they found the main office crowded, as if many more had hurried in to hear the expected news.

"Gentlemen! Fellow citizens!" shouted the general, enthusiastically, as he waved his packet of despatches over his head. "This is glorious! Our ill.u.s.trious commander-in-chief, after having given such a severe lesson to our barbarous invaders at the north, is marching with his entire force to our own a.s.sistance. He will soon crush our a.s.sailants on the seacoast as he has the gringo mob under Taylor!"

A storm of cheers responded, and the entire crowd seemed disposed to exchange hugs and handshakes, while he turned to an officer at a table.

"By the Way, major," he said, "write an order for quarters and rations for General Bravo's messenger, Carfora. I may need him again in a few days. Keep track of him. He is a civilian, but he is a trusted agent of certain parties whom you may know."

The major began to write something, and, as he did so, Ned believed that he heard him muttering words which sounded like: "Humph! Messenger of his Excellency, Santa Anna! We will take good care of him!"

Then the general carelessly signed the paper, which the major prepared for him, and Ned walked quietly out into the open air. Once there, however, he took a hasty look at his "order for rations," and discovered that with it he had now in his possession a full headquarters army pa.s.s, which permitted him to come and go anywhere, through the gates and all the lines, without hindrance from anybody. He was established as an accepted and even honored confidential despatch-bearer of the commander-in-chief of all the armies of Mexico. He was not now to get entirely away without difficulty, however, for the whole building had been full of men who were eager for all the news he could give them, and they had followed him. They seized upon him as if he had been the last edition of an evening newspaper, containing the reports of all the past and with, probably, the news for to-morrow morning also somewhere inside of him. He did not get away from them for some time, and when he did so, at last, he was sure of being recognized by a considerable number of patriotic Mexicans, if they ever should meet him again. That might make him safer, although he was no longer in any immediate danger. Moreover, although he was not in uniform, the cut and quality of his clothing informed every person he met that he belonged to the higher orders, while the machete at his side and the pistols in his belt appeared to indicate that he was in some way connected with the army.

"I know what I want to do next," he was thinking. "My pony and my satchel are at the headquarters stables. I can get them whenever I want them. I must go to the Ta.s.sara place. I can find it. Then I must manage to put them there, so that I won't have to show myself at the headquarters unless I'm sent for."

He had no difficulty in finding the Ta.s.sara homestead, and there was no observer anywhere near him when he stood in front of the dwelling which had been his first hospitable refuge in Mexico. It had now, of course, a lonely and shut-up look, and there was no getting in at the front door, for much knocking failed to bring a door-keeper. Giving that up, therefore, he made his way around to the rear, through the unoccupied stables.

"There is hay enough here for my pony," he remarked, "but I had half expected that the house would be turned into quarters for troops."

He may have overlooked the fact that the Ta.s.saras were friends of General Morales, and that their house was under his protection. If it were supposed to be so, nevertheless, he had cause to forget it again when he came to the back door, for it stood wide open, with an appearance of having been unlocked with a hammer.

"Hullo!" he exclaimed. "I wonder if there is anybody in there now?"

The thought somehow made him draw his machete, and he went on into the house as if he were looking for a fight. The dining-room was entered first, and it was utterly empty. Not so much as a chair was left, although its owners had certainly not taken any furniture away with them in their hasty escape by night, with Ned and Zuroaga. It looked a little queer, to say the least, and, as he went on from room to room, he found precisely such a state of things everywhere else.