UNIT. OF CALIF. LIBRARY.
 
 Silence ! " thundered the Padre, livid with rage. " I will compass 
 heaven and earth rather than that you should escape me." 
 
 Inez Page 138
 
 THE WORKS OF 
 
 AUGUSTA EVANS WILSON 
 
 IN EIGHT VOLUMES 
 
 INEZ 
 
 A TALE OF THE ALAMO 
 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON 
 
 THE CO-OPERATIVE PUBLICATION SOCIETY 
 6
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855 
 Bv HARPER & BROS. 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 
 District of New York 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871 
 
 BY GEORGE W. CARLETON & CO. 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1887 
 
 BY G W. DILLINGHAM 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.
 
 TO 
 
 THE TEXAN PATRIOTS, 
 
 WHO TRIUMPHANTLY UNFURLED AND WAVED ALOF? 
 THE " BANNER OF THE LONE STAR !" 
 
 THIS WORK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
 
 Vo1 - 
 
 A-Evans 
 
 2130474
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " But O, th' important budget ! 
 Who can say what are its tidings ?" 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 " THERE is the bell for prayers, Florry; are you 
 ready ?" said Mary Irving, hastily entering hei 
 cousin's room at the large boarding-school of Ma- 
 dame . 
 
 " Yes ; I rose earlier than usual this morning, 
 have solved two problems, and translated nearly half 
 a page of T61e"maque." 
 
 " I congratulate you on your increased industry 
 and application, though you were always more 
 studious than myself. I wish, dear Florry, you could 
 imbue me with some of your fondness for metaphy- 
 sics and mathematics," Mary replied, with a low 
 sigh. 
 
 A momentary flush passed over the face of her 
 
 [51
 
 6 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 companion, and they descended the stairs in silence. 
 The room in which the pupils were accustomed to 
 assemble for devotion was not so spacious as the 
 class-room, yet sufficiently so to look gloomy enough 
 in the gray light of a drizzling morn. The floor was 
 covered with a faded carpet, in which the indistinct 
 vine seemed struggling to reach the wall, but failed 
 by several feet on either side. As if to conceal this 
 deficiency, a wide seat was affixed the entire length 
 of the room, so high 
 
 " That the feet hung dangling down, 
 Anxious in vain to find the distant floor." 
 
 There were no curtains to the windows, and the rain 
 pattered drearily down the panes. 
 
 The teacher who officiated as chaplain was seated 
 before a large desk, on which lay an open Bible. 
 He seemed about twenty-four, his countenance noble 
 rather than handsome, if I may make so delicate a 
 distinction. Intelligence of the first order was 
 stamped upon it, yet the characteristic expression 
 was pride which sat enthroned on his prominent 
 brow; still, hours of care had left their impress, and 
 the face was very grave, though by no means stern. 
 His eye was fixed on the door as the pupils came in, 
 one by one, for prayers, and when Florence and 
 Mary entered, it sunk upon his book. In a few mo- 
 ments he rose, and, standing with one arm folded 
 across his bosom, read in a deep, distinct tone, that 
 beautiful Psalm, " The Lord is my shepherd." He 
 had only reached the fourth verse, when he was in-
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. f 
 
 tmipted by two girls of twelve or fourteen, who had 
 been conversing from the moment of their entrance. 
 The tones grew louder and louder, and now the 
 words were very audible: . 
 
 " My father did not send me here to come to 
 prayers, and Madame has no right to make us get 
 up before day to hear him read his Bible !" 
 
 Many who coincided with them tittered, others 
 stared in silence, while Florence's lip curled, and 
 Mary looked sorrowingly, pityingly upon them hers 
 was the expression with which the angel multitudes 
 of Heaven regard their erring brethren here. The 
 chaplain turned toward them, and said, in a grave 
 yet gentle voice, " My little friends, I am afraid you 
 did not kneel beside your bed this morning, and ask 
 God to keep your hearts from sinful thoughts, and 
 enable you to perform all your duties in an humble, 
 gentle spirit. In your present temper, were I to read 
 the entire book instead of one Psalm, I fear you 
 would receive no benefit." 
 
 The girls were awed more by the tone than words, 
 and sat silent and abashed. The reading was con- 
 cluded, and then he offered lip a prayer earnest and 
 heart-felt. Instead of leaving the room immediately, 
 the pupils waited as for something, and taking a 
 bundle of letters from the desk, their tutor distribu- 
 ted them as the directions indicated. " My budget 
 is not so large as usual, and I regret it for your sakes, 
 as I fear some are disappointed. Miss Hamilton, 
 here are two for you;" and he handed them to her 
 without looking up.
 
 8 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " Two for Florry, and none for me ?" asked Mary, 
 while her voice slightly trembled. He was leaving 
 the room, but turned toward her. 
 
 " I am .very sorry, Miss Mary, but hope you will 
 find a comforting message in your cousin's." 
 
 Gently he spoke, yet his eyes rested on Florence 
 the while, and, with a suppressed sigh, he passed 
 on. 
 
 " Come to my room, Mary; it is strange the 
 letters are post-marked the same day." And while 
 she solves the mystery, let us glance at her former 
 history. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " Calm on the bosom of thy God, 
 
 Fair spirit t rest thee now ! 
 Ev'n while with us thy footsteps trod, 
 His seal was on thy brow." 
 
 Hemans. 
 
 FLORENCE HAMILTON had not attained her fourth 
 year when she was left the only solace of her 
 widowed father. Even after the lapse of long years, 
 faint, yet sweet recollections of her last parent stole, 
 in saddened hours, over her spirit, and often, in 
 dreams, a face of angelic beauty hovered around 
 and smiled upon her. 
 
 Unfortunately, Florence proved totally unlike her 
 sainted mother, both in personal appearance and
 
 INEZ : A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 cast of character. Mr. Hamilton was a cold, proud 
 man of the world ; one who, having lived from his 
 birth in affluence, regarded with a haughty eye all 
 who, without the advantages of rank or wealth, strove 
 to attain a position equal to his own. Intelligence, 
 nobility of soul, unsullied character, weighed not an 
 atom against the counterpoise of birth and family. 
 He enjoyed in youth advantages rare for the unset- 
 tled times in which he lived ; he tasted all that France 
 and Italy could offer ; and returned blase at twenty- 
 seven to his home in one of the Southern States. 
 Attracted by the brilliant fortune of an orphan 
 heiress, he won and married her; but love, such as 
 her pure, gentle spirit sought, dwelt not in'his stern, 
 selfish heart. All of affection he had to bestow was 
 lavished on his only sister, who had married during 
 his absence. 
 
 His angel wife drooped in the sterile soil to which 
 she was transplanted, and, when Florence was about 
 four years old, sunk into a quiet grave. 
 
 Perhaps when he stood v.ith his infant daughter 
 beside the newly- raised mound, and missed the 
 gentle being who had endeavored so strenuously to 
 make his home happy, and to win for herself a place 
 in his heart, one tear might have moistened the cold, 
 searching eyes that for years had known no such 
 softening tendency. " Perhaps," I say; but to con- 
 jecture of thee, oh Man ! is fruitless indeed. 
 
 As well as such a nature could, he loved his child, 
 and considered himself extremely magnanimous in 
 casting aside all thought of a second marriage, and
 
 IO INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 devoting his leisure moments to the formation of her 
 character and direction of her education. 
 
 Florence inherited her father's haughty tempera- 
 ment without his sordid selfishness, and what may 
 seem incompatible with the former, a glowing imag- 
 ination in connection with fine mental powers. To 
 all but Mr. Hamilton she appeared as cold and im- 
 penetrable as himself; but the flashing eye and curl- 
 ing lip with which she listened to a tale of injustice, 
 or viewed a dishonorable act, indicated a nature 
 truly noble. Two master passions ruled her heart 
 lore for her parent, and fondness for books. 
 Idolized by the household, it was not strange that 
 she soon learned to consider herself the most im- 
 portant member of it. Mr. Hamilton found that it 
 was essential for the proper regulation of his estab- 
 lishment that some lady should preside over its 
 various departments, and accordingly invited the 
 maiden sister of his late wife to make his house her 
 home, and take charge of his numerous domestics. 
 
 Of his daughter he said nothing. Aunt Lizzy, as 
 she was called, was an amiable, good woman, but 
 not sufficiently intellectual to superintend Florry's 
 education. That little individual looked at first 
 with distrustful eyes on one who, she supposed, 
 might abridge her numerous privileges; but the 
 affectionate manner of the kind-hearted aunt re- 
 moved all fear, and she soon spoke and moved with 
 the freedom which had characterized her solitude. 
 
 One day when Florence was about nine years old,
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 1 1 
 
 her father entered the library, where she sat intently 
 reading, and said, 
 
 " Florence, come here, I have something to tell 
 you." 
 
 " Something to tell me ! I hope it is pleasant ;" 
 and she laid her hand on his knee, and looked in- 
 quiringly in his face. 
 
 " You remember the cousin Mary, whose father 
 died not long ago? Well, she has lost her mother 
 too, and is coming to live with us." As he spoke, 
 his voice faltered and his proud curling lip quivered, 
 yet he gave no other evidence of the deepest grief 
 he had known for many years. 
 
 '" She will be here this evening, and I hope you 
 will try to make her contented." With these words 
 he was leaving the room, but Florence said, 
 
 " Father, is she to stay with us always, and will 
 she sleep in my room with me ?" 
 
 " She will live with us as long as she likes, and if 
 you prefer it, can occupy the same room." 
 
 The day wore on and evening found her on the 
 steps looking earnestly down the avenue for the ap- 
 proach of the little stranger. 
 
 At length a heavy carriage drove to the door, 
 and Florry leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the 
 inmate's face. A slight form, clad in deep mourn- 
 ing, was placed on the piazza by the coachman. 
 
 Mr. Hamilton shook her hand kindly, and after a 
 few words of welcome, said, 
 
 " Here is your cousin Florence, Mary. I hope 
 you will love each other, and be happy, good little
 
 12 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 girls." Mary looked almost fearfully at her proud 
 young cousin, but the sight of her own pale, tearful 
 face touched Florry's heart, and she threw her arms 
 round her neck and kissed her. The embrace was 
 unexpected, and Mary wept bitterly. 
 
 " Florence, why don't you take Mary to her 
 room ?" . 
 
 " Would you like to go upstairs, cousin ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes! if you please, I had much rather." And 
 taking her basket from her hand, Florry led the way. 
 
 Mary took off her bonnet and turned to look again 
 at her cousin. Their eyes met ; but as if overcome 
 by some sudden recollection, she buried her face in 
 her hands and burst again into tears. 
 
 Florence stood for some time in silence, at length 
 she said gently, 
 
 " It is almost tea-time and father will be angry if 
 he sees you have been crying." 
 
 "Oh! I can't help it, indeed I can't," sobbed the 
 little mourner, " he is so much like my dear, darling 
 mother!" and she stifled a cry of agony. 
 
 " Is my father like your mother, cousin Mary ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes! When he spoke to me just now, I al- 
 most thought it was mother." 
 
 A tear rolled over Florry's cheek, and she slowly 
 replied, " I wish I knew somebody that looked . like 
 my mother." In that hour was forged the chain 
 which bound them through life, and made them one 
 in interests. 
 
 Years rolled on, and found Mary happy in her 
 adopted home. If her uncle failed to caress her as
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 1 3 
 
 her loving heart desired, she did not complain, for 
 she was treated like her cousin, and found in the 
 strong love of Florence an antidote for every care. 
 Mary was about sixteen, and Florence a few months 
 younger, at the time our story opens, and had been 
 placed in New Orleans to acquire French and mu- 
 sic, as good masters could not be obtained nearer 
 home. We have seen them there, and hoping the 
 reader will pardon this digression, return to Florry's 
 letter. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " Philosophy can hold an easy triumph over past and fu- 
 ture misfortunes ; but those which are present, triumph over 
 her." 
 
 -Rochefoucault. 
 
 A STRIKING difference in personal appearance 
 was presented by the cousins as they stood together. 
 Florence, though somewhat younger, was taller by 
 several inches, and her noble and erect carriage, in 
 connection with the haughty manner in which her 
 head was thrown back, added in effect to her height. 
 Her hair and eyes were brilliant black, the latter 
 particularly thoughtful in their expression. The 
 forehead was not remarkable for height, but was 
 unusually prominent and white, and almost overhung 
 the eyes. The mouth was perfect, the lips delicately 
 chiseled and curving beautifully toward the full
 
 14 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 dimpled chin. The face, though intellectual, and 
 artistically beautiful, was not prepossessing. The 
 expression was cold and haughty; and for this rea- 
 son she had received the appellations of " Minerva " 
 and " Juno," such being considered by her fellow- 
 pupils as singularly appropriate. 
 
 Mary, on the contrary, was slight and drooping, and 
 her sweet, earnest countenance elicited the love of 
 the beholder even before an intimate acquaintance 
 had brought to view the beautiful traits of her truly 
 amiable character. 
 
 And yet these girls, diametrically opposed in dispo- 
 sition, clung to each other with a strength of affec- 
 tion only to be explained by that strongest of all ties, 
 early association. 
 
 Florence broke the seal of her letter and Mary 
 walked to the window. It looked out on a narrow 
 street through which drays rattled noisily and occa- 
 sional passengers picked their way along its muddy 
 crossings. 
 
 Mary stood watching the manoeuvres of a little 
 girl who was endeavoring to pass dry-shod, when a 
 low groan startled her, and turning quickly she per- 
 ceived Florence standing in the centre of the room, 
 the letter crumpled in one hand ; her face had grown 
 very pale and the large eyes gleamed strangely. 
 
 " Oh ! Florry, what is the matter ? Is your father 
 ill dead tell me quick!" and imploringly she 
 clasped her hands. 
 
 Florence made a powerful effort and spoke in her 
 usual tone:
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 1$ 
 
 " I was foolish to give way to my feelings even for 
 a moment my father is well." She paused, and 
 then added, as if painfully: " But, oh! he is almost 
 penniless !" 
 
 " Penniless!" echoed Mary, as though she could 
 not comprehend her cousin's meaning. 
 
 " Yes, Mary, he has been very unfortunate in his 
 speculations, obliged to sell our plantation and ne- 
 groes, and now, he says, ' a few paltry thousands only 
 remain;' but, oh! that is not the worst I wish it 
 were; he has sold out everything, broken every tie, 
 and will be here this evening on his way to Texas. 
 He writes that I must be ready to accompany him 
 to-morrow night." 
 
 She paused, as if unwilling to add something 
 which must be told, and looked sadly at her cousin. 
 
 Mary understood the glance. 
 
 " Florry, there is something in the letter relating 
 to myself, which you withhold for fear of giving me 
 pain; the sooner I learn it the better." 
 
 " Mary, here is a letter inclosed for you; but first 
 hear what my father says," and hurriedly she read 
 as follows: 
 
 . . . " With regard to Mary, it cannot be ex- 
 pected that she should wish to accompany us on our 
 nigged path, and bitterly, bitterly do I regret our 
 separation. Her paternal uncle, now in affluence, 
 has often expressed a desire to have her with him, 
 and since my misfortunes has written me, offering 
 her a home in his family. Every luxury and advan- 
 tage afforded by wealth can still be hers, Did I not
 
 1 6 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 feel that she^would be benefited by this separation, 
 nothing could induce me to part with her, but under 
 existing circumstances, I can consent I to give her 
 up." 
 
 Florence flung the letter from her as she con- 
 cluded, and approaching her cousin, clasped her arms 
 fondly about her. Mary had covered her face with 
 her hands, and the tears glistened on her slender 
 fingers. 
 
 " Oh, Florry ! you don't know how pained and 
 hurt I am that uncle should think I could be so un- 
 grateful as to forget, in the moment of adversity, his 
 unvaried kindness for six long years. Oh, it is cruel 
 in him to judge me so harshly," and she sobbed 
 aloud. 
 
 " I will not be left, I will go with him, that is if 
 if Florry, tell me candidly, do you think he has any 
 other reason for not taking me except my fancied 
 dislike to leaving this place tell me?" 
 
 " No, dear Mary; if he thought you preferred go- 
 ing with us, no power on earth could induce him to 
 leave you." 
 
 Mary placed her hand in her cousin's, and mur- 
 mured : 
 
 " Florry, I will go with you ; your home shall be 
 my home, and your sorrows my sorrows." 
 
 A flash of joy irradiated Florence's pale face as 
 she returned her cousin's warm embrace. 
 
 " With you, Mary, to comfort and assist me, I fear 
 nothing ; but you have not yet read your uncle's let-
 
 INEZ ,* A TALE OF THE ALAMO. If 
 
 ter; perhaps its contents may influence your deci- 
 sion." 
 
 Mary perused it in silence, and then put it in her 
 cousin's hand, while the tears rolled over her 
 cheeks. 
 
 " Mary, think well ere you reject this kind offer. 
 Remember how earnestly he entreats that you will 
 come and share his love, his home and his fortune. 
 Many privations will be ours in the land to which 
 we go, and numberless trials assail the poverty- 
 stricken. All these you can avoid by accepting this 
 very affectionate invitation. Think well, Mary, lest 
 in after years you repent your hasty decision." 
 
 There came a long pause, and hurriedly Florence 
 paced to and fro. Mary lifted her bowed head, and 
 pushing back her clustering hair, calmly replied, 
 " My heart swells with gratitude toward my noble, 
 generous uucle. Oh, how fervently I can thank him 
 for his proffered home ! yet, separated from you, dear 
 Florry, I could not be happy; my heart would ache 
 for you and your warm, trusting love. I fear nei- 
 ther poverty nor hardships. Oh, let me go with you 
 and cheer and assist my dear uncle!" 
 
 " You shall go with us, my pure-hearted cousin. 
 When I thought a moment since of parting with you, 
 my future seemed gloomy indeed, but now I know 
 that you will be near I am content." 
 
 A short silence ensued, broken by a mournful ex- 
 clamation from Florence. 
 
 " Ah ! Mary, it is not for myself that I regret this 
 change of fortune, but for my proud, haughty father,
 
 1 8 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 who will suffer so keenly. Oh, my heart aches when 
 I think of him!" 
 
 " Florry, we must cheer him by those thousand 
 little attentions which will lead him to forget his pe- 
 cuniary troubles." 
 
 Florence shook her head. 
 
 " You do not know my father as I do. He will 
 have no comforts, broods over difficulties in secret, 
 and shrinks from sympathy as from a ' scorching 
 brand.' " 
 
 " Still I think we can do much to lighten his cares 
 and I pray God I may not be mistaken," replied 
 Mary. 
 
 Florence lifted her head from her palm and gazed 
 vacantly at her cousin, then started from her seat. 
 
 " Mary, we must not sit here idly when there is so 
 much to do. Madame should know we leave to- 
 morrow, and it will take us all day to prepare for 
 our journey." 
 
 " Do let me go and speak to Madame ; it will 
 
 be less unpleasant to me !" 
 
 " No, no; I will go myself: they shall not think 
 I feel it so sensibly, and their condolence to- morrow 
 would irritate me beyond measure. I scorn such 
 petty trials as loss of fortune, and they shall know 
 it." 
 
 " Who shall know it, Florry ?" 
 
 Her cheek flushed, but without a reply she left 
 the room, and descended the steps which led to 
 
 Madame 's parlor. Reaching the door, she drew 
 
 herself proudly up, then knocked.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 19 
 
 " Come in," was the response. 
 
 She did so. In the centre of the apartment, with 
 an open book on the table before him sat the teacher 
 who officiated at prayers. He rose and bowed coldly 
 in answer to her salutation. 
 
 " Pardon my intrusion, Mr. Stewart. I expected 
 to find Madame here." 
 
 " She has gone to spend the morning with an in- 
 valid sister, and requested me to take charge of her 
 classes in addition to my own. If I can render you 
 any assistance, Miss Hamilton, I am at your ser- 
 vice." 
 
 " Thank you, am in need of no assistance, and 
 merely wished to say to Madame that I should leave 
 New Orleans to-morrow, having heard from my 
 father that he will be here in the evening boat." 
 
 " I will inform her of your intended departure as 
 as early as possible." 
 
 " You will oblige me by doing so," replied Flo- 
 rence, turning to go. 
 
 " Miss Hamilton, may I ask you if your cousin ac- 
 companies you ?" 
 
 " She does," was the laconic answer, and slowly 
 she retraced her steps, and stood at her own door. 
 The cheeks had become colorless, and the delicate 
 lips writhed with pain. She paused a moment, then 
 entered. 
 
 " Did you see her, Florry ?" 
 
 " No, she is absent, but I left word for her." 
 
 Her tone was hard, dry, as though she had been 
 striving long for some goal, which, when nearly at-
 
 2O INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 tained, her failing strength was scarce able to grasp. 
 It was the echo of a fearful struggle that had raged 
 in her proud bosom. The knell it seemed of expir- 
 ing exertion, of sinking resistance. Mary gazed 
 sadly on her cousin, who stood mechanically smooth- 
 ing her glossy hair. The haughty features seemed 
 chiseled in marble, so cold, stony was the expres- 
 sion. 
 
 " Dear Florry ! you look harassed and weary al- 
 ready. Why, why will you overtask your strength, 
 merely to be called a disciple of Zeno ? Surely you 
 can not seriously desire so insignificant an honor, 
 if it merits that title ?" 
 
 " Can you, then, see no glory in crushing long- 
 cherished hopes nay, when your heart is yearning 
 toward some * bright particular ' path, to turn with- 
 out one symptom of regret, and calmly tread one 
 just the opposite ! Tell me, can you perceive noth- 
 ing elevating in this Stoical command ?" 
 
 The cold, vacant look had passed away; her dark 
 eyes gleamed, glittered as with anticipated triumph. 
 
 " Florry, I do not understand you exactly ; but I 
 do know that command of the heart is impossible, 
 from the source whence you draw. It may seem 
 perfect control now, but it will fail you in the dark 
 hour of your need, if many trials should assail. Oh ! 
 my cousin, do not be angry if I say * you have for- 
 saken the fountain of living water, and hewn out for 
 yourself broken cisterns, which hold no water.' Oh ! 
 Florry, before you take another step, return to Him' 
 who has a balm for every wound.* M
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 21 
 
 Florence's face softened; an expression of relief 
 began to steal over her countenance; but as Mary 
 ceased speaking, she turned her face, beautiful in its 
 angelic purity, full upon her. A bitter smile curled 
 Florence's lip, and muttering hoarsely, " A few more 
 hours and the struggle will be over," she turned to 
 her bureau, and arranged her clothes for packing. 
 
 The day passed in preparation, and twilight found 
 the cousins watching intently at the casement. The 
 great clock in the hall chimed out seven, the last 
 stroke died away, and then the sharp clang of the 
 door bell again broke silence. They started to their 
 feet, heard the street door open and close then steps 
 along the stairs, nearer and nearer then came a 
 knock at the door. Mary opened it; the servant 
 handed in a card and withdrew. " Mr. J. A. Hamil- 
 ton." Florence passed out, Mary remained behind. 
 
 " Come, why do you linger ?" 
 
 " I thought, Florry, you might wish to see him 
 alone; perhaps he would prefer it." 
 
 " Mary, you have identified yourself with us. To 
 my father we must be as one." She extended her 
 hand, and the next moment they stood in the recep- 
 tion room. 
 
 The father and uncle was standing with folded 
 arms, looking down into the muddy street below. 
 He advanced to meet them, holding out a hand to 
 each. Florence pressed her lips to the one she held, 
 and exclaimed, 
 
 " My dear father, how glad I am to see you 1"
 
 22 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " Glad to see me ! You did not receive my letters 
 then ?" 
 
 " Yes I did, but are their contents and pleasure at 
 meeting you incompatible ?" 
 
 He made no reply, and then Mary said, in a low, 
 tremulous tone, 
 
 " Uncle, you have done me a great injury, and you 
 must make me all the reparation in your power. 
 You said, in your letter to Florry, that you did not 
 think I would wish to go with you. Oh, uncle ! you 
 do not, can not believe me so ungrateful, so devoid 
 of love as to wish, under any circumstances, to be 
 separated from you. Now ease my heart, and say I 
 may share your new home. I should be very mis- 
 erable away from you." 
 
 An expression of pleasure passed over his face, 
 but again the brow darkened. 
 
 " Mary! Florence is my child my destiny hers, 
 my misfortunes hers; but I have no right to drag 
 you with me in my fall; to deprive you of the many 
 advantages that will be afforded by your uncle's 
 wealth, of the social position you may one day at- 
 tain." 
 
 " Uncle ! uncle ! am I not your child by adoption ? 
 Have you not loved and cared for me during long 
 years ? Oh! what do I care for wealth for what 
 you call a high position in the world ? You and 
 Florry are my world." She threw her arms about 
 his neck, and sobbed, " Take^me ! oh, take me with 
 you !" 
 
 " If you so earnestly desire it, you shall indeed go
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 23 
 
 with us, my Mary." And, for the first time in her 
 life, he imprinted a kiss on her brow. 
 
 When he departed, it was with a promise to call 
 for them the next morning, that they might make, 
 with their aunt, some necessary purchases, and re- 
 move to a hotel near the river. 
 
 Every thing was packed the ensuing day, when 
 Mary suddenly remembered that her books were 
 still in the recitation room, and would have gone for 
 them, but Florence said, 
 
 " I will bring up the books, Mary; you are tired 
 and pale with bending so long over that trunk." 
 And accordingly she went. 
 
 Mary threw herself on the couch to rest a moment, 
 and fell into a reverie of some length, unheeding the 
 flying minutes, when she recollected that Florence 
 had been absent a long time, and rising, was about 
 to seek her; just then her cousin entered. A change 
 had come over her countenance peace, quiet, hap- 
 piness reigned supreme. One hour later, and they 
 
 had gone from Madame 's, never to return 
 
 again.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 "Time the supreme 1 ^Time is eternity, 
 Pregnant with all eternity can give; 
 With all that makes archangels smile. 
 Who murders time, he crushes in the birth 
 A power ethereal." 
 
 A YEAR had passed away. 
 
 Season had followed season in rapid succession, 
 and the last rays of an August sun illumined a scene 
 so beautiful, that I long for the pencil of a Claude 
 Lorraine. It was a far-off town in a far-off state, 
 yet who has gazed on thy loveliness, oh, San Antonio, 
 can ere forget thee ! thine was the sweetness of na- 
 ture; no munificent hand had arranged, with artistic 
 skill, a statue here, a fountain there. 
 
 The river wound like an azure girdle round the 
 town; not confined by precipitous banks, but glid- 
 ing along the surface, as it were, and reflecting, in 
 its deep blue waters, the rustling tule which fringed 
 the margin. An occasional pecan or live-oak flung 
 a majestic shadow athwart its azure bosom, and now 
 and then a clump of willows sighed low in the even- 
 ing breeze. 
 
 Far away to the north stretched a mountain range, 
 blue in the distance ; to the south, the luxuriant 
 valley of the stream. The streets were narrow, and 
 wound with a total disregard of the points of the
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 25 
 
 compass. Could a stranger have been placed blind- 
 fold in one of them, and then allowed to look about 
 him, the flat roofs and light appearance of most of 
 the houses would have forced him to declare that he 
 had entered a tropical town of the far-east. 
 
 Many of the buildings were of musquit pickets, 
 set upright in the ground, lashed together with strips 
 of hide, and thatched with the tule before men- 
 tioned. There were scarce three plank- floors in the 
 town ; by far the greater number being composed of 
 layers of pebbles, lime, and sand, rolled with a heavy 
 piece of timber till quite compact ; daily sprinkling 
 was found necessary, however, to keep down the 
 dust, produced by constant friction. 
 
 The wealthy inhabitants built of sun-dried bricks, 
 overcast with a kind of stucco. Yet, unfortunately ^ 
 the plastering art died with the Montezumas, for the 
 most vivid imagination failed to convert this rough 
 coating into the " silver sheen " which so dazzled 
 Cortes's little band. The reader will exclaim, " I 
 can fancy no beauty from so prosy a description. 
 Thatched roofs and dirt floors, how absurd !" 
 
 Although a strict analysis might prove detrimen- 
 tal, I assure you the " tout ensemble " was picturesque 
 indeed. 
 
 " Italia ! oh Italia ! thou who hast 
 The fatal gift of beauty," 
 
 art rivaled here ! Thy gorgeous skies have floated 
 hither, and hover like a halo round the town. The 
 sun had set ; the glowing tints faded fast, till of the
 
 26 INEZ J A TALB OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 brilliant spectacle naught remained save the soft, 
 roseate hue which melted insensibly into the deep 
 azure of the zenith. Quiet seemed settling o'er 
 mountain and river, when, with a solemn sweetness, 
 the vesper bells chimed out on the evening air. 
 Even as the Moslem kneels at sunset toward the 
 " Holy City," so punctiliously does the devout pa- 
 pist bend for vesper prayers. Will you traverse 
 with me the crooked streets, and stand beneath the 
 belfry whence issued the holy tones? 
 
 This ancient edifice was constructed in 1692. It 
 fronted the Plaza, and was a long, narrow building, 
 flanked, as it were, by wings lower than the main 
 apartment, and surmounted by a dome, in which 
 were five or six bells. This dome or belfry was 
 supported by pillars, and in the intervening open- 
 ings were placed the bells. The roof was flat, and 
 the dark green and gray moss clung along the sides. 
 The interior presented a singular combination of art 
 and rudeness; the seats were of unpainted pine, and 
 the cement floor between was worn irregularly by 
 the knees of devout attendants. The railing of the 
 altar was of carved mahogany, rich and beautiful. 
 Over this division of the long room hung a silken 
 curtain, concealing three niches, which contained an 
 image of the " Virgin," the " Child," and in the 
 centre one, a tall gilt cross. Heavy silver candle- 
 sticks were placed in front of each niche, and a dozen 
 candles were now burning dimly. A variety of 
 relics, too numerous to mention, were scattered on 
 the altar, and in addition, several silver goblets, and
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 27 
 
 a massive bowl for holding " holy water." A few 
 tin sconces, placed against the wall, were the only 
 provision for lighting that dark, gloomy church, and 
 dreary enough it looked in the twilight hour. About 
 a dozen devotees were present, all kneeling on the 
 damp, hard floor. The silk curtain which concealed 
 the altar was drawn aside, with due solemnity, by 
 two boys habited in red flannel petticoats, over 
 which hung a loose white slip. The officiating 
 priest was seen kneeling before the altar, with his 
 lips pressed to the foot of the cross. He retained his 
 position for several moments, then rising, conducted 
 the ceremonies in a calm, imposing manner. When 
 these were concluded, and all had departed, save the 
 two boys, who still knelt before the Virgin, he beck- 
 oned them to him, and speaking a few words in 
 Spanish, ended by pointing to the door and uttering 
 emphatically, " go !" Crossing themselves as they 
 passed the images, they disappeared through a side 
 door, and the priest was left alone. 
 
 Vol. 6 B Evans
 
 28 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 * * * " He was a man 
 
 Who stole the livery of the court of heaven 
 
 To serve the devil in ; in Virtue's guise, 
 
 Devoured the widow's house and orphan's bread; 
 
 In holy phrase, transacted villanies 
 
 That common sinners durst not meddle with." 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 IN years, he could not have exceeded twenty-five, 
 yet the countenance was that of one well versed in 
 intrigue. The cast was Italian the crisp black hair, 
 swarthy complexion, and never-to-be-mistaken eyes. 
 A large amount of Jesuit determination was expressed 
 in his iris, blended with cunning, malignity, and 
 fierceness. The features were prominent, particu- 
 larly the nose; the lips finely cut, but thin; the teeth 
 beautiful and regular. In stature he was low, and 
 habited in the dress of his order, a long black coat 
 or gown, buttoned to the throat, and reaching nearly 
 to the feet. 
 
 Glancing at his watch as the sound of the last step 
 died away, he paced round and round the altar, ne- 
 glecting now the many genuflections, bows, and 
 crossings with which he had honored the images in 
 the presence of his flock. His brows were knit, as 
 if in deep thought, and doubtless he revolved the re- 
 sult of some deep laid plan, when the door was hur- 
 riedly opened, and a man, bowing low before the
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 39 
 
 images, approached him. The dress of the stranger 
 declared him a ranchero: he wore no jacket, but his 
 pantaloons were of buckskin, and his broad sombrero 
 was tucked beneath his arm. 
 
 " Benedicite, Juan!" 
 
 " Buefio noche, Padre. 
 
 " What tidings do you bring me ?" said Father 
 Mazzolin. 
 
 The Mexican handed him a letter, and then, as if 
 much fatigued, leaned heavily against the wall, and 
 wiped his brow with a large blue cotton handker- 
 chief. As the priest turned away and perused his 
 letter, a smile of triumphant joy irradiated his face, 
 and a momentary flush tinged his dark cheek. Again 
 he read it, then thrusting it into his bosom, addressed 
 the bearer: 
 
 " May the blessing of the church rest upon you, 
 who have so faithfully served your Padre;" and he 
 extended his hand. Warmly it was grasped by Juan, 
 with a look of grateful surprise. 
 
 " Este buefio ?" inquired Juan. 
 
 " Si mui buefio. Juan, do you read American 
 writing ?" 
 
 " Chiquito," was answered, with a slight shrug. 
 
 " What is the news in the el grand Ciudad ?" 
 
 " They have a strong ox to pull the ropes, now 
 Santa Anna is at the head. * Bravura !' " and the 
 ranchero tossed his hat, regardless of the place. 
 
 It was, however, no part of Mazzolin 's policy to 
 allow him for one moment to forget the reverence 
 due the marble images that looked so calmly down
 
 3O INEZ : A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 from their niches, and with a stern glance he pointed 
 to them, crossing himself as he did so. Juan went 
 down on his knees, and with an " Ave Maria," and 
 a Mexican dollar (which he laid on the altar), quieted 
 his conscience. 
 
 " Sefior Austin is in the Calaboose," he said, after 
 a pause. 
 
 Mazzolin started, and looked keenly at him, as if 
 striving to read his inmost thoughts. 
 
 " You must be mistaken, Juan ; there is no men- 
 tion of it in my letter !" he said, in a tone of one fear- 
 ing to believe good news. 
 
 " Not at all, Padre. We started together there 
 were fifteen of us and after we had come a long 
 way, so far as Saltillo, some of Santa Anna's cava- 
 leros overtook us, and carried Sefior Americano 
 back with them, and said they had orders to do it, for 
 he was no friend to our nation. I know, for I heard 
 for myself." 
 
 " Do you know the particular reason of his arrest ?" 
 
 Juan shook his head, and replied, " That the officers 
 did not say." 
 
 " Did you mention to any one your having a letter 
 for me ?" 
 
 " No, Padre ; I tell no man what does not concern 
 him." 
 
 " A wise plan, Juan, I would advise you always to 
 follow; and be very careful that you say nothing to 
 any one about my letter: I particularly desire it." 
 
 " Intiendo," said Juan, turning toward the door. 
 " I go to my ranche to-morrow, but come back be-
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 3! 
 
 fore many sunsets, and if you want me again, Padre, 
 you know where to find me." 
 
 " The blessing of the ' Holy Virgin ' rest upon you, 
 my son, and reward you for your services in behalf 
 of the church." 
 
 " Adios !" And they parted. 
 
 Father Mazzolin drew forth the letter, and read it 
 attentively for the third time, then held it over one 
 of the twelve candles, and deliberately burnt it, mut- 
 tering the while, " Ashes tell no tales." 
 
 Extinguishing the candles and locking the door of 
 the church, he said to himself: 
 
 " All is as I foresaw; a breach is made which can 
 only be closed by the bodies of hundreds of these 
 cursed heretics; and Santa Anna is blood-thirsty 
 enough to drain the last drop. Alphonso Mazzolin, 
 canst thou not carve thy fortune in the coming 
 storm ? Yea, and I will. I am no unworthy fol- 
 lower of Loyola, of Xavier, and of Bobadillo. Pa- 
 tience! a Cardinal's cap shall crown my labors;" and 
 with a chuckling laugh he entered the narrow street 
 which led to his dwelling. 
 
 " There is but one obstacle here," he continued; 
 " that Protestant girl's work is hard to undo," and 
 his step became quicker. " But for her, I should 
 have been confessor to the whole family, and will be 
 yet, despite her warning efforts, though I had rather 
 deal with any three men. She is as untiring as my- 
 self." He reached his door, and entered.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 And ruder words will soon rush in 
 To spread the breach that words begin. 
 And eyes forget the gentle ray 
 They wore in courtship's smiling day ; 
 And voices lose the tone that shed 
 A tenderness round all they said." 
 
 Moort. 
 
 INEZ DE GARCIA was an only child, and in San 
 Antonio considered quite an heiress. Her wealth 
 consisted in broad lands, large flocks, and numerous 
 herds, and these valuable possessions, combined with 
 her beautiful face, rendered her the object of con- 
 siderable attention. Inez was endowed with quick 
 perceptions, and a most indomitable will, which she 
 never surrendered, except to accomplish some latent 
 design; and none who looked into her beautiful 
 eyes could suppose that beauty predominated over 
 intellect. She was subtile, and consciousness of her 
 powers was seen in the haughty glance and con- 
 temptuous smile. Her hand had been promised 
 from infancy to her orphan cousin, Mafiuel Nevarro, 
 whose possessions were nearly as extensive as her 
 own. Inez looked with indifference on her hand- 
 some cousin, but never objected, till within a few 
 weeks of her seventeenth birthday (the period ap- 
 pointed for her marriage), when she urged her father 
 to break the engagement. This he positively refused
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 33 
 
 to do, but promising, at Father Mazzolin's sugges- 
 tion, that she should have a few more months of 
 freedom, she apparently acquiesced. Among the 
 peculiar customs of Mexicans was a singular method 
 
 of celebrating St. 's day. Instead of repairing 
 
 to their church and engaging in some rational ser- 
 vice, they mounted their half wild ponies, and rode 
 furiously up and down the streets till their jaded 
 steeds refused to stir another step, when they were 
 graciously allowed to finish the day on the common. 
 The celebration of the festival was not confined to 
 the masculine portion of the community; silver- 
 haired Sefioras mingled in the cavalcade, and many 
 
 a bright-eyed Senorita looked forward to St. 's 
 
 day with feelings nearly akin to those with which a 
 New York belle regards the most fashionable ball of 
 the season. 
 
 On the evening preceding the day of that canon- 
 ized lady, ( Mafiuel entered the room where Inez sat, 
 her needlework on the floor at some distance, as 
 though fl .ng impatiently from her, her head resting 
 on one hand, while the other held a gentleman's 
 glove. Light as was his step, she detected it, and 
 thrusting the glove into her bosom, turned her fine 
 face full upon him. 
 
 " What in the name of wonder brings you here 
 this time of day, Mafiuel? I thought every one but 
 myself was taking a siesta this warm evening." 
 
 " I have been trying a new horse, Inez, and came 
 to know at what hour you would ride to-morrow.'*
 
 34 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 He stood fanning himself with his broad sombrero as 
 he spoke. 
 
 " Excuse me, Sefior, I do not intend to ride at 
 all." 
 
 " You never refused before, Inez : what is the 
 meaning of this?" and his Spanish brow darkened 
 ominously. 
 
 " That I do not feel inclined to do so, is sufficient 
 reason." 
 
 " And why don't you choose to ride, pray? You 
 have done it all your life." 
 
 " I'll be cross-questioned by no one!" replied Inez, 
 springing to her feet, with flashing eyes, and passion- 
 ately clinching her small, jeweled hand. 
 
 Manuel was of a fiery temperament, and one of 
 the many who never pause to weigh the effect of 
 their words or actions. Seizing her arm in no gen- 
 tle manner, he angrily exclaimed: 
 
 " A few more weeks and I'll see whether you in- 
 dulge every whim, and play the queen so royally !" 
 
 Inez disengaged her arm, every feature quivering 
 with scorn. 
 
 " To whom do you speak, Sefior Nevarro? You 
 have certainly mistaken me for one of the miserable 
 peons over whom you claim jurisdiction. Allow me 
 to undeceive you. I am Inez de Garcia, to whom 
 you shall never dictate, for I solemnly declare, that 
 from this day the link which has bound us from child- 
 hood is at an end. Mine be the hand to sever it. 
 From this hour we meet only as cousins ! Go find a 
 more congenial bride!"
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 35 
 
 " Hold, Inez! are you mad?' 
 
 " No, Mafiuel, but candid ; for eight years I have 
 known that I was destined to be your wife, but I 
 never loved you, Mafiuel. I do not, and never can, 
 otherwise than as a cousin." 
 
 In a tone of ill-suppressed rage, Nevarro retorted : 
 
 " My uncle's authority shall compel you to fulfill 
 the engagement! You shall not thus escape me!" 
 
 " As you please, Sefior. Yet let me tell you, com- 
 pulsion will not answer. The combined efforts of 
 San Antonio will not avail they may crush, but can 
 not conquer me." She bowed low, and left the 
 room. 
 
 Every feature inflamed with wrath, Nevarro 
 snatched his hat, and hurried down the street. He 
 had not proceeded far, when a hand was laid upon 
 his arm, and turning, with somewhat pugnacious in- 
 tentions, he encountered Father Mazzolin's piercing 
 black eyes. 
 
 " Buefio tarde, Padre." 
 
 The black eyes rested on Nevarro with an expres- 
 sion which seemed to demand an explanation of his 
 choler. Mafiuel moved uneasily ; the hot blood 
 glowed in his swarthy cheek, and swelled like cords 
 on the darkened brow. 
 
 " Did you wish to speak with me, Padre?" 
 
 " Even so, my son. Thou art troubled, come unto 
 one who can give thee comfort." 
 
 They were standing before the door of the harkell 
 occupied by the priest; he opened it 9 and drew 
 Mafiuel in.
 
 36 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 An hour later they emerged from the house. AH 
 trace of anger was removed from Nevarro's brow, 
 and Father Mazzolin's countenance wore the im- 
 penetrable cast he ever assumed in public. It was 
 his business expression, the mask behind which he 
 secretly drew the strings, and lured his dupes into 
 believing him a disinterested and self- denying pastor, 
 whose only aim in life was to promote the welfare 
 and happiness of his flock. 
 
 When Don Garcia sat that night, & la Turk, on a 
 buffalo- robe before his door, puffing his cigarrita, 
 and keeping time to the violin, which sent forth its 
 merry tones at a neighboring fandango, Inez drew 
 near, and related the result of her interview with 
 Mafiuel, concluding by declaring her intention to 
 abide by her decision, and consult her own wishes in 
 the selection of a husband. 
 
 His astonishment was great. First he tried reason- 
 ing, but she refuted every argument advanced with 
 the adroitness of an Abelard: the small stock of 
 patience with which " Dame Nature " had endowed 
 the Don gave way, and at last, stamping with rage, 
 he swore she should comply, or end her life in .a 
 gloomy cell of San Jose. 
 
 Inez laughed contemptuously. She felt the whirl- 
 wind she had raised gathering about her, yet sought 
 not to allay it ; she knew it was the precursor of a 
 fierce struggle, yet quailed not. Like the heroine 
 of S'ragossa, or the martyr of Rouen, she knew not 
 fear; and her restless nature rather joyed in the 
 strife.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 37 
 
 A low growl from the dog who shared the robe, 
 announced an intruder, and the next moment the 
 Padre joined them. He was joyfully hailed by De 
 Garcia as an ally; but a dark look of hatred gleamed 
 from Inez's eyes, as they rested on his form : it van- 
 ished instantly, and she welcomed him with a smile. 
 She was cognizant of his interview with Nevarro, for 
 her window overlooked the street in which it took 
 place. She knew, too, his powers of intrigue; that 
 they were enlisted against her ; and a glance sufficed 
 to show the path to be pursued. Long ago her 
 penetrating eye had probed the mask of dissimula- 
 tion which concealed, like the " silver vail " of Mo- 
 kanna, a great deformity; how much greater because, 
 alas ! a moral one. 
 
 Father Mazzolin inquired, with apparent interest, 
 the cause of contention. The Don gave a detailed 
 account, and wound up by applying to him for sup- 
 port, in favor of Nevarro. The look of sorrowful 
 astonishment with which he listened, compelled Inez 
 to fix her large Spanish eyes on the ground, lest he 
 should perceive the smile which lurked in their 
 corners, and half played round her lip. 
 
 He rebuked her gently, and spoke briefly of the 
 evils which would result, if she persisted in her will- 
 ful and ungrateful course. Inez listened with a 
 meekness which surprised both parent and Padre; 
 and when the latter rose to go, approached, and, in 
 a low tone, requested him to meet her, that day 
 week, in the confessional. 
 
 Woman's heart is every where the same, and in
 
 38 INEZ : A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 the solitude of her own apartment, Inez's softer 
 feelings found full vent. She sat with her face in 
 her hands, one long deep sigh, which struggled up, 
 telling of the secret pain that was withering her joys 
 and clouding her future. Suddenly she started up, 
 and passionately exclaimed, 
 
 " It is hard that his love should be wasted on one 
 whose heart is as cold and stony as this wall;" and 
 she struck it impatiently. Then drawing forth the 
 glove, which on Mafiuel's entrance had been so 
 hastily secreted, she pressed it repeatedly to her lips, 
 returned it to its hiding-place and sought her couch. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 "What cause have we to build on length of life: 
 Temptations seize when fear is laid asleep ; 
 And ill-foreboded is our strongest guard." 
 
 Young. 
 
 ST. 's dawn was welcomed by joyous peals 
 
 from the church- bells, and the occasional firing of a 
 few muskets, by way of accompaniment. The sun 
 rose with a brilliance which would have awakened 
 deep tones in Memnon's statue, and gilded mountain 
 and valley. Beautiful beyond description the city 
 looked in his golden light, and 
 
 " All nature seemed rejoicing."
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 39 
 
 Half hid by a majestic live-oak which shaded the 
 front, and within a few yards of the river, stood a 
 small white house. It was built of adobes, and con- 
 tained only three rooms. Instead of reaching these 
 by a broad flight, one step from the threshold placed 
 you on the ground. The floor was covered, and, as 
 usual, of cement. In one corner of the front apart- 
 ment stood a side-board with glass of various kinds, 
 and a few handsome pieces of plate. Its vis-b-vis 
 was a range of shelves, filled with books; and on the 
 plain deal mantel-piece stood a pair of neat China 
 vases, decked with brilliant prairie flowers. Before 
 the open window was placed the table, arranged for 
 the morning meal. How pure the cloth looked, how 
 clear the glass; and then the bouquet of fragrant 
 roses which adorned the centre, how homelike, fresh, 
 and beautiful it seemed ! An air of comfort, Ameri- 
 can, southern comfort pervaded the whole. The 
 breakfast was brought in by a middle-aged negress, 
 whose tidy appearance, and honest, happy, smiling 
 face presented the best refutation of the gross 
 slanders of our northern brethren. I would that her 
 daguerreotype, as she stood arranging the dishes, 
 could be contrasted with those of the miserable, half- 
 starved seamstresses of Boston and New York, who 
 toil from dawn till dark, with aching head and throb- 
 bing heart, over some weary article, for which they 
 receive the mighty recompense of a shilling. 
 
 When she had arranged every dish with great ex- 
 actness, a small bell was rung; and, waiter in hand, 
 she stood ready to attend the family.
 
 4O INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 A bright, young face appeared at the open window. 
 
 " I hope, Aunt Fanny, you have a nice breakfast. 
 You have no idea what an appetite my walk has 
 given me." 
 
 " Now, Miss Mary, ain't my cooking always nice?" 
 
 " Indeed, it is. Your coffee would not disgrace a 
 pacha's table; and your rolls are 
 
 ' The whitest, the lightest, that ever were seen.' " 
 
 She disappeared from the window, and entered 
 the room just as Mr. Hamilton came in, followed by 
 Florence. 
 
 " My dear uncle, have you forgotten the old adage 
 of ' early to bed, add early to rise ?' " 
 
 " I am not sure that I ever learned it, Mary;" he 
 drily replied, seating himself at the table. 
 
 "One would suppose you had taken a draught from 
 the ' Elixir of Life;' " said Florence, glancing affec- 
 tionately at her beaming face. 
 
 " I have discovered the fountain of perpetual 
 youth, so vainly sought in South America!" 
 
 " Indeed ! Is it located in this vicinity ?" 
 
 " Yes; and if you will rise to-morrow with Aurora, 
 when ' she sprinkles with rosy light the dewy lawn,' 
 I will promise to conduct you to it." 
 
 " Thank you ; but Mary, what induced you to ram- 
 ble so early?" 
 
 " I have been nearly two miles for some roots Mrs. 
 Carlton expressed a wish for. See, Florry, how I 
 have dyed my hands pulling them up !" 
 
 " Were you alone, Mary ?" asked Mr. Hamilton.
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 41 
 
 *' I was, most of the time. As I came back, Dr. 
 Bryant overtook me. He spent the night at San Jose 
 mission, with a sick Mexican, and was returning. 
 But where is Aunt Lizzy ?" continued Mary, with 
 an inquiring glance round the room. 
 
 " She went to mass this morning," replied her 
 cousin. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! It is St. 's day. I heard the bells 
 
 at daybreak." 
 
 " It is a savage, heathenish custom they have 
 adopted here, of tearing up and down the streets 
 from morning till night. I wish, by Jove! they 
 would ride over their canting Padre ! I think he 
 would find some other mode of celebrating the fes- 
 tival!" 
 
 " He would lay claim to saintship on the strength 
 of it," replied Mary. 
 
 " You had better keep out of the street to-day, 
 girls," rejoined Mr. Hamilton, pushing his cup away, 
 and rising from the table. 
 
 At this moment Aunt Lizzy entered ; and after the 
 morning salutation, turned toward the door. 
 
 " You are later than usual this morning, aunt. 
 Do sit down and eat your breakfast, or it will be so 
 cold you can not touch it," said Mary. 
 
 " No really devout Catholic tastes food on this holy 
 day," she answered, motioning it from her. 
 
 " It must be quite a penance to abstain, after your 
 long walk," said Mr. Hamilton with a smile. 
 
 " Father Mazzolin said, this morning, that all who 
 kept this holy day would add a bright jewel to their
 
 42 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 crown, and obtain the eternal intercession of the 
 blessed saint ;" and she left the room. 
 
 " That falsehood adds another stone to the many 
 that will sink him in the lake of perdition, if there 
 be one !" muttered Mr. Hamilton, as he departed for 
 the counting-room. The last few sentences had 
 fallen unheeded on Florence's ear, for she sat look- 
 ing out the window, her thoughts evidently far away. 
 But every trace of merriment vanished from Mary's 
 face, and instead of her bright smile, a look of pain- 
 ful anxiety settled there. A long silence ensued; 
 Mary stood by the table, wiping the cups as Aunt 
 Fanny rinsed them, and occasionally glancing at her 
 cousin. At length she said, 
 
 " Florry, will you walk over to Mrs. Carlton's with 
 me ? I promised to go, and the walk will do you 
 good, for indeed your cheeks are paler than I like to 
 see them." 
 
 " Certainly, Mary, but do you remember what 
 father said about our remaining at home to-day ?" 
 
 " There is no danger, Florry, if we only look about 
 us; and I really must go." 
 
 " Well then, let us start at once." 
 
 In a few moments they set out, equipped in large 
 straw hats, and equally large gloves; in addition, 
 Mary carried in her hand a basket filled with herbs 
 and flowers. 
 
 " If we walk briskly, we shall get there before any 
 of the riders set forth. Ah ! I am mistaken, there 
 they come. Florry, don't go so near the street : that
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 43 
 
 horseman in blue looks as though he were riding on 
 ice see how his horse slides about !" 
 
 A party of twenty or thirty thundered past, and 
 the girls quickened their pace. A few minutes' 
 walk brought them to Mrs. Carlton's door, which 
 closed after them. 
 
 That lady was reading, as they entered, but threw 
 &side her book, and advanced joyously to greet them. 
 She kissed Mary affectionately, and cordially shook 
 Florence's hand. 
 
 " I am glad you came, Mary. I feared you would 
 not, and really I want you very much." 
 
 44 What can I do, Mrs. Carlton ?" 
 
 44 You can take off your hat and gloves, and pre- 
 pare yourselves to spend the day with me." 
 
 They laughingly complied, protesting, however, 
 that they could only remain a short time. 
 
 44 Mary, my poor blind proselyte died yesterday, 
 and bequeathed her orphan child to me: I feel al- 
 most obliged to accept the charge, for her fear lest it 
 should fall into the Padre's hands was painful to be- 
 hold, and I promised to protect it, if possible. The 
 poor little fellow is nearly destitute of clothes; I have 
 cut some for him, and knew you would assist me in 
 making them." 
 
 44 With pleasure, dear Mrs. Carlton, and so will 
 Florry; fill my basket with work, and we will soon 
 have him a suit. Oh ! how glad I am that he has 
 such kind friends as yourself and husband." 
 
 44 The Padre came last night to demand the child, 
 but we refused to give him up: he said he intended
 
 44 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 clothing and educating the boy free of charge ; yet 
 I knew better, for he refused to baptize Madame 
 Berara's orphan-niece without the customary fee ? 
 though he well knew she could ill afford it, and was 
 compelled to sell her last cow to make up the requi- 
 site sum. I feel assured he will do all in his power 
 to entice Erasmo from me; but hope by constant 
 watchfulness to counteract his influence. Oh ! Mary, 
 how much we need a Protestant minister here : one 
 who could effectually stem the tide of superstition 
 and degradation that now flows unimpeded through 
 this community. Oh ! my dear friend, let us take 
 courage, and go boldly forth in the cause of truth, 
 and strive to awaken all from the lethargy into which 
 they have fallen a lethargy for which their priests 
 are alone responsible, for they administered the 
 deadly drug." 
 
 " I feel as deeply as yourself, dear Mrs. Carlton, 
 the evil tendency and deplorable consequences of 
 the institutions by which we are surrounded, and 
 the little that I can do will be gladly, oh how gladly! 
 contributed to the work of reformation you have so 
 nobly begun." 
 
 " You forget, Mary, in your proselyting enthusiasm, 
 that Aunt Lizzy belongs to the despised sect ; surely 
 you can not intend by attacks on her religion to 
 render her home unpleasant ?" said Florence. 
 
 Mary's eyes filled with tears, as she glanced re- 
 proachfully at her cousin, and replied, 
 
 " Nothing is further from my wishes, Plorry, than 
 to make her home other than happy. Aunt Lizzy
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THB ALAMO. 45 
 
 has every opportunity of informing herself on this 
 important question. Yet she prefers the easier 
 method, of committing her conscience to the care 
 of the priest; she has chosen her path in life, and 
 determinately doses her eyes to every other. The 
 state of the Mexicans around us is by no means anal- 
 ogous. They were allowed no choice. Bred from 
 infancy in the Romish faith, they are totally un- 
 acquainted with the tenets of other creeds. Implicit 
 obedience to the Padre is their primary law, the 
 grand ruling principle of life, instilled from their 
 birth. To lay before them the truths of our own 
 
 * pure and undelfiled religion,' is both a privilege 
 and duty." 
 
 " You spoke just now, Miss Florence, of the 
 
 * despised sect ;' allow me, in all modesty, to say, that 
 to the true and earnest Christian there is no such 
 class. Believe me, when I say, that though deeply 
 commiserating their unhappy condition, and resolved 
 to do all in my power to alleviate it, still I would 
 as cheerfully assist the conscientious Papist, and 
 tender him the hospitalities of my home, as one of 
 my own belief." 
 
 " You have expressed my feelings exactly, Mrs. 
 Carlton, and there are times when I wish myself a 
 missionary, that I might carry light to this benighted 
 race," exclaimed Mary, enthuiastically. 
 
 " We are very apt, my dear child, to consider 
 ourselves equal to emergencies, arid capable of great 
 actions, when a strict examination would declare 
 that the minor deeds and petty trials which test the
 
 46 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 temper and the strength too often destroy our 
 equanimity, and show our inability to cope with dif- 
 ficulties. Woman's warfare is with little things, yet 
 we are assured by the greatest of all female writers, 
 that * trifles make the sum of human things;' there- 
 fore, let us strive more and more earnestly to obtain 
 perfect control of ourselves ; then shall we be enabled 
 to assist others." 
 
 " I often think," replied Mary, thoughtfully, " that 
 we make great sacrifices with comparative ease, be- 
 cause we feel our own insufficiency, and rely more 
 on God for assistance; while in lesser troubles we 
 are so confident of success, that we neglect to ask 
 his blessing, and consequently fail in our unaided 
 attempts." 
 
 " You are right, Mary, and it should teach us to 
 distrust our powers, and lead us to lean upon * Him, 
 who is a very precious help in time of need.' " 
 
 A long silence ensued, broken at length by the 
 entrance of Mrs. Carlton's two children, who carried 
 a large basket between them. Hastily they set it 
 down, seeing Mary, and sprung to her side: the 
 little girl clung around her neck, and kissed her re- 
 peatedly. 
 
 " Maria, you are too boisterous, my little girl ; Miss 
 Mary will have no cause to doubt your affection. 
 Elliot, why do you not speak to Miss Florence, my 
 son ?" 
 
 Blushing at his oversight, the boy obeyed, and, 
 joined by his sister, stood at his mother's side. Maria
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 47 
 
 whispered something in his ear, but he only shook 
 his head and replied, 
 
 " Not now, sister, let us wait." 
 
 She hesitated a moment, then laid her little hand 
 on Mrs. Carlton's shoulder: 
 
 " Mother, I know you said it was rude to whisper 
 in company, but I want to tell you something very 
 much." 
 
 Mrs. Carlton smiled. 
 
 " I am sure the young ladies will excuse you, my 
 daughter, if it is important." She bent her head, 
 and a prolonged whispering followed. A flush rose 
 to the mother's cheek and a tear to her eyes, as she 
 clasped her to her heart, and said: 
 
 " I wish you, my children, to speak out, and tell 
 all you know of this affair." 
 
 Elliot was spokesman. 
 
 " We went into the garden as you desired us, 
 mother, and Erasmo and I picked the peas, while 
 sister held the basket ; presently we heard a noise 
 in the brush fence like something coming through, 
 and sister got frightened (here he laughed), and 
 wanted to run to the house, but we told her it was 
 only a sheep or dog outside; but it turned out to be 
 the Padre, and he came and helped us to pick. 
 Mother, he told us such pretty stories; I can't think 
 of the names; they must have oeen Dutch, they 
 were so long and hard. But I remember one of the 
 tales ; he said there was once a good man who lived 
 in Asia, and one day he lost his crucifix; he looked 
 every where for it, but could not find it; and a long
 
 48 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 time afterward, he happened to be walking by the 
 sea-shore and looked out on the water, and oh, what 
 do you think ? He saw his crucifix moving on the 
 water, and a great crab paddled out to land and laid 
 his crucifix down before him, and then paddled right 
 back into the sea again. Now wasn't that funny. 
 I can't think of the good man's name, Saint Some- 
 body Saint Saint " 
 
 " Brother, I reckon it was Saint Crab !" 
 
 " No, no ! It was the crab that found the crucifix, 
 and I think he was smarter than the Saint." 
 
 " Now, Florry, should I repeat this legend to Aunt 
 Lizzy, it would be impossible to convince her that it 
 proceeded from the Padre's lips. Yet even prelates 
 of Rome scruple not to narrate as miracles tales 
 equally absurd, where their auditory is sufficiently 
 ignorant to credit them. Pardon my interruption, 
 Elliot, and finish your story," continued Mary. 
 
 " Mother, the Padre talked to Erasmo in Spanish. 
 I could not understand all he said, but it was about 
 coming to live with him, and going to Mexico, to 
 see the sights there. When he came to the rows you 
 left for seed, I told him we must come to the house, 
 and asked him to come in; but he would not, and 
 offered us all some money, and said we must not tell 
 a soul we had seen him, for he happened to see us 
 through the fence, and just came in to speak to us, 
 and you and father might think he ought not to 
 come into our garden. But oh, mother, would you 
 believe it ! he told Erasmo, as he went off, that he 
 must ask you to let him go to bathe to-morrow; and
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 49 
 
 instead of going to the river, he must come to the 
 church : he wanted to give him something. He told 
 him in Spanish, but I understood what he said. Now 
 wasn't that teaching him to tell a lie ? and he a 
 Padre too ! Mother, don't you think he ought to be 
 ashamed ?" 
 
 " Elliot, if you would gladden the hearts of your 
 father and mother, be ever truthful. Remember 
 the story of ' Pedro and Francisco ' you read not 
 long ago, and put dishonesty and dissimulation far 
 from you : ' honesty is the best policy,' and if you 
 adhere to it through life, it will prove of ' far more 
 worth than gold.' Be sure you keep nothing from 
 me, particularly what the Padre may say." 
 
 " Shall we take the peas out under the hackberry 
 and shell them ?" said Maria. 
 
 " Yes, my dear, but first tell me where Erasmo 
 is." 
 
 " Sitting on the steps, mother. I know he will 
 help us to shell them, for he said it was mere fun 
 picking peas." 
 
 " Say nothing to him of the Padre or his conver- 
 sation, but interest him about other things." 
 
 They left the room swinging the basket between 
 them. Mrs. Carlton's eyes filled as she looked after 
 her children. " A mother's care can do a great deal, 
 yet how little did I imagine that temptation would 
 assail them at such a time, and in such a garb." 
 
 " Oh, guard them carefully; for, surrounded by 
 these influences, it will be difficult to prevent con- 
 tamination," said Mary, earnestly.
 
 gO INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 Just then a loud shout from the street attracted 
 their attention, and hastening to the door, they per- 
 ceived a crowd gathered on the Plaza. In the cen- 
 tre was a body of Mexican cavalry, headed by their 
 commanding officer, who, hat in hand, was harangu- 
 ing them. The ladies looked at each other in dis- 
 may. 
 
 ** To what does this tend?" asked Mary, anxiously. 
 
 " My husband told me several days since that Aus- 
 tin was imprisoned in Mexico, and said he feared 
 difficulties would ensue, but knew not the cause of 
 his confinement." 
 
 " There is Dr. Bryant coming towards us ; I dare 
 say he can tell us the meaning of this commotion." 
 
 That gentleman, bowing low in the saddle, reined 
 his steed as near the step as possible. 
 
 " How do you do, Miss Hamilton, and you, my 
 dear sister? I had the pleasure of meeting Miss 
 Mary in her morning rambles; she is a most remark- 
 able young lady. Assures me she actually loves early 
 rising." His dark eyes were fixed laughingly upon 
 her. 
 
 " Do stop your nonsense, Frank, and tell us the 
 cause of that crowd," said Mrs. Carlton laying her 
 hand on his arm. 
 
 " My dear sister, that tall, cadaverous-looking cav- 
 alier is the brother-in-law of Santa Anna, and no less 
 a personage than General Cos, sent hither to fortify 
 this and every other susceptible place." 
 
 " Against whom or what?'* 
 
 " It is a long story, ladies. You know that Coahnila
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 51 
 
 has pursued an oppressive policy toward us for some 
 time, and refused to hear reason ; Austin remon- 
 strated again and again, and at last went to Mexico, 
 hoping that the authorities would allow us (here he 
 bit his lip, and his cheek flushed) it galls my spirit 
 to utter the word allow us to form a separate State. 
 The Congress there took no notice of his petition, 
 for, in truth, they were too much engaged just then 
 about their own affairs to heed him, and he wrote to 
 several persons in Austin, advising them at all haz- 
 ards to proceed. Some cowardly wretch, or spy in 
 disguise, secretly despatched one of his letters to the 
 ministers; consequently, as Austin was returning, 
 they made him prisoner, and carried him back to 
 Mexico. Santa Anna is at the head of affairs. He 
 has subverted the too liberal constitution of 1824, 
 but is opposed by a few brave hearts, who scorn the 
 servitude in store for them. Santa Anna knows full 
 well that we will not submit to his crushing yoke, 
 and therefore sends General Cos to fortify the Alamo. 
 This is the only definite information I have been able 
 to glean from several sources." 
 
 " Do you think there is probability of a war?" 
 
 " It will most inevitably ensue, for total submission 
 will be exacted by Santa Anna, and the Texans are 
 not a people to comply with any such conditions." 
 
 " You think General Cos is here to fortify the 
 Alamo ?" 
 
 " Yes ; the work commences to-morrow, I hear, 
 and the fort will be garrisoned by Spanish troops." 
 
 Vol. 6 C Evans
 
 52 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 ** How many has he with him ?" inquired his 
 sister. 
 
 " Only fifty or sixty; this is merely the advanced 
 guard, and the main body will probably arrive in a 
 few days." 
 
 " I suppose they are joyously welcomed by the 
 Mexicans here, who have ever regarded with jealous 
 eyes Protestant settlers." 
 
 " Oh, yes, that shout testified the hearty welcome 
 they received." 
 
 At this moment Mr. Hamilton joined the group. 
 
 " Have you heard the news?" he inquired. 
 
 " Yes, and sad enough it is," said Mary with a 
 sigh. 
 
 *' It will be a bloody conflict." 
 
 " I am afraid so," replied Dr. Bryant. 
 
 " Come, girls, I am going home, will you go now?** 
 
 Mary took her basket, which Mrs. Carlton had 
 filled with work, and they descended the steps. 
 
 " I declare, Miss Irving, I have a great desire to 
 know what that basket contains; it is as inseparably 
 your companion as was the tub of Diogenes. I often 
 see it round a corner before you are visible, and at 
 the glimpse of it, invariably sit more erect in saddle 
 and assume my most amiable expression." 
 
 He raised himself and peeped inquiringly over the 
 edge ; Mary swung it playfully behind her. 
 
 " I never gratify idle curiosity, Dr. Bryant. 1 ' 
 
 " Indeed, how very remarkable ; but I assure you 
 I know full well the use to which those same herbs 
 you had this morning are to be applied; you are
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 53 
 
 amalgamating nauseous drugs and certain pills to 
 be administered to my patients. I am grieved to 
 think you would alienate what few friends I have 
 here, by raising yourself up as a competitor. Pray, 
 where did you receive your diploma ? and are you 
 Thomsonian, Allopathic, Homeopathic, or Hydro- 
 pathic?" 
 
 Mary looked at Mrs. Carlton; both smiled. 
 
 " Ah ! I see Ellen is associated with you. Do ad- 
 mit me to partnership ; I should be a most valuable 
 acquisition, take my word for it. A more humble- 
 minded, good-hearted, deeply-read, and experienced 
 disciple of^EsculapiuB never felt pulse or adminis- 
 tered a potion," 
 
 They laughed outright. 
 
 " Mary, shall we tell Frank what we intend those 
 herbs for ?" 
 
 " By no means; he does not deserve to know." 
 
 " Ah ! I see Terence was right after all in his 
 opinion of woman's nature ' When you request, 
 they refuse; when you forbid, they are sure to do it. 1 " 
 
 " Come, girls, come ! I have business at home ;" 
 said Mr. Hamilton, and they set out homeward. 
 They had not proceeded far when Mary exclaimed, 
 pointing behind her: 
 
 " Oh, uncle, that woman will be killed ! Can no- 
 body help her ?" 
 
 " She wiH certainly be thrown from her horse !" 
 
 A party of five or six Mexicans were riding with 
 their usual rapidity toward them. An elderly woman 
 in the rear had evidently lost control of her fiery
 
 54 INEZ : A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 horse which was plunging violently. The other 
 members of the company seemed unable to render 
 any assistance, as their own could scarcely be re- 
 strained. The unfortunate Sefiora was almost para- 
 lyzed with fright; for instead of checking him by 
 the reins, they had fallen over his head, become en- 
 tangled in his feet, and now grasping the mane, she 
 was shrieking fearfully. 
 
 " Oh, can't we do something for her!" cried Mary, 
 clasping her hands. 
 
 " I do not see how we can assist her," said Mr. 
 Hamilton. 
 
 " At least [let us try;" and they hastened to the 
 spot where the infuriated animal was struggling. 
 
 " Stand back, girls! you can do nothing." 
 
 He made several ineffectual attempts to catch the 
 bridle as the fore-feet rose in the air, and at last suc- 
 ceeded in getting one end. He bade the woman let 
 go the mane and slide off. She did so, but some 
 portion of her dress was caught in the saddle, and 
 she hung suspended. The horse, feeling the move- 
 ment, again plunged, despite Mr. Hamilton's efforts 
 to hold him down. The scene was distressing in- 
 deed, as she was raised and then flung down again. 
 
 Mary saw the danger, and rushing round the en- 
 raged horse, fearlessly pushed off the piece which 
 was attached to the pommel of the saddle, and freed 
 the unf ortunat e m atron. The horse , feeling relieved 
 of his burden, gave a desperate bound and rushed 
 off down the street. 
 
 Florence shrieked and sprung to her father's side.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 55 
 
 Mary was bending over the moaning woman, but 
 turned suddenly and saw her uncle stretched at 
 Florence's feet. He was insensible, and a stream of 
 blood oozed from his lips. They raised his head 
 and motioned to the Mexicans that now gathered 
 round, for water; some was hastily procured, and 
 then Mary entreated one of them to go for Dr. Bry- 
 ant ; as she spoke, the tramp of hoofs caused her to 
 look up and she perceived him urging his horse to- 
 ward them. He flung the reins to a man who stood 
 near, and bent over the prostrate form. 
 
 " There is some internal injury, I see no outward 
 wound; how did this happen ?" 
 
 Florence briefly explained the manner in which 
 her father received a kick on the chest. Happily 
 they were near their own home, and, with the assis- 
 tance of two men, Dr. Bryant carefully bore him in 
 and laid him on a couch near the open window. A 
 restorative was administered, and soon the sufferer 
 opened his eyes. The flow of blood had ceased, but 
 he lay quite exhausted. 
 
 The physician examined the wounded place and 
 assured Florence there was no fracture. 
 
 " I am afraid some blood-vessel is ruptured," said 
 she anxiously. 
 
 " It is only a small one, I hope, but cannot tell cer- 
 tainly for several days. He must be perfectly quiet; 
 the least excitement might prove fatal by causing a 
 fresh hemorrhage." 
 
 Nearly a week passed, and one evening Mary fol- 
 lowed the physician as he left the house; he heard
 
 56 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 her step and turned. His usually laughing counte- 
 nance was grave and anxious; but he strove to seem 
 cheerful. 
 
 " Doctor, I wish to know what you think of my 
 uncle's case; we are afraid it is more serious than 
 you at first pronounced it." 
 
 " It is better that you should know the worst. I 
 am pained to grieve you, but candor compels me to 
 say that a fatal injury has been inflicted. I hoped 
 for the best, but an examination this evening con- 
 firmed my fears." 
 
 Mary sobbed bitterly and long. Dr. Bryant sought 
 not to comfort her by exciting false hopes, but paced 
 up and down the gravel- walk beside her. 
 
 " You do not fear a rapid termination of the dis- 
 order ?" she said at last, in a low, trembling tone. 
 
 " He may linger some days, but I do not think it 
 probable that he will." 
 
 " Florry, Florry! what is to become of us!" cried 
 the weeping girl in a voice of agony. " Oh, God! 
 spare him to us !" 
 
 " Do you think your cousin comprehends her 
 father's danger ?" 
 
 " She fears the worst and requested me this even- 
 ing to ask your opinion. Oh, how can I tell her that 
 he must die !" 
 
 " Do not crush all hope (though I have none) ; let 
 her believe that he may recover. She is not of a 
 temperament to bear prolonged agony. The shock 
 will be 'less painful, rest assured. Believe me, I 
 deeply sympathize with you both." And pressing 
 her hand, he withdrew.
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 57 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "See! the dappled gray coursers of the morn 
 Beat up the light with their bright silver hoofs, 
 And chase it through the sky 1? 
 
 -Marston. 
 
 INEZ left her father's door as the last notes of the 
 matin bell died away on the cool, clear morning air. 
 She held in her hand a silken scarf, which, accord- 
 ing to the custom of her country, was thrown lightly 
 across the head, and confined at the chin. 
 
 Beautiful she looked, with the feverish glow on her 
 cheek, and her large Spanish eyes, restless and 
 piercing, flashing out at times the thoughts of her 
 inmost soul. She threw the mantilla round her 
 head, and turned toward the church. The step was 
 firm yet hasty. She seemed endeavoring to escape 
 from herself. 
 
 The streets were silent, and the Plaza deserted, 
 and naught seemed stirring save the swallows that 
 twittered and circled round and round the belfry of 
 the church. There was something soothing in the 
 deep stillness that reigned on that balmy morning, 
 and Inez felt its influence. She paused at the en- 
 trance of the gray old church, and stretched forth 
 her arms to the rosy east. 
 
 " Peace, peace!" she murmured, in a weary tone, 
 and sunk her head upon her bosom. The door
 
 58 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 opened behind her, and raising herself proudly, she 
 drew the scarf closer about her, and entered. 
 
 A basin of holy water was placed near, and has- 
 tily she signed the figure of the cross, and pro- 
 ceeded down the aisle to a side door leading to one 
 of the wings. She pushed it noiselessly ajar, and 
 passed in. 
 
 A solitary tin sconce dimly lighted the small con- 
 fessional, dark and gloomy as night, at that early 
 hour. A wooden cross suspended from the wall, a 
 stone bench and table, on which lay a rosary and 
 crucifix, and a small vessel of holy water, formed the 
 entire furniture. Before this table sat Father Maz- 
 zolin, his face buried in his hands. Her step, light 
 as it was, startled him; yet without rising, he mur- 
 mured, " Benedicit." 
 
 " Buefios dias, Padre." 
 
 He motioned to her to kneel, and she did so, on 
 the damp floor at his feet, drawing the scarf over 
 her face, so as to conceal the features. 
 
 " Bless me, my Father, because I have sinned." 
 
 He laid his hands on her bowed head, and mut- 
 tered, indistinctly, a Latin phrase. " I confess to 
 Almighty God, to blessed Mary, ever Virgin, to 
 blessed Michael the Archangel, to blessed John the 
 Baptist, to the holy apostles Peter and Paul, and to 
 all the saints, that I have sinned exceedingly in 
 thought, word, and deed, through my most grievous 
 fault. Therefore I beseech the blessed Mary, ever 
 Virgin, the blessed Michael the Archangel, the 
 blessed John the Baptist, the holy apostles Peter and
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 59 
 
 Paul, and all the saints, to pray to the Lord our God 
 for me. 
 
 " Since my last confession, I accuse myself of 
 many sins. I have missed mass, vespers, and many 
 holy ordinances of our most holy church. Have 
 borne hatred, and given most provoking language. 
 
 " I have broken the engagement thou didst com- 
 mand me to keep; have angered Mafiuel, and en- 
 raged my father greatly. I neglected fasting on the 
 day of our most holy Saint 
 
 " I have entered this church, this holy sanctuary, 
 without crossing myself; and passed the image of 
 the blessed Virgin without kneeling." She paused, 
 and bent her head lower. 
 
 The Padre then said, " My daughter, thy sins are 
 grievous ; my heart bleeds over thy manifold trans- 
 gressions." 
 
 " Even so, my Father; even so." 
 
 *' Dost thou still bear enmity to Mafiuel Nevarro, 
 who loves thee truly, and is thy promised husband ?" 
 
 " No, my Father; I desire to be speedily recon- 
 ciled to him whom I have offended." 
 
 " Wilt thou promise to offer no objection, but be- 
 come his wife ?" 
 
 " My Father, I do not wish to be his wife; yet thy 
 will, not mine." 
 
 A smile of triumph glittered in the Padre's eye at 
 this confession ; yet his low tone was unchanged. 
 
 ** Inez, I will not force thee to marry Mafiuel, yet 
 thou shalt never be another's wife. In infancy thou 
 wast promised, and thy hand can never be joined to
 
 60 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 another. Choose you, my daughter, and choose 
 quickly." 
 
 " Padre, give me time. May one so guilty as I 
 speak out ?*' 
 
 " Yes, speak; for I would have thine inmost 
 thoughts." 
 
 " Father, let me spend a month of peace and quiet 
 among the holy sisters at San Jose ; there will I de- 
 termine either to be Manuel's wife, or dedicate the 
 remainder of my life to the service of God and our 
 most Holy -Lady." 
 
 " You have spoken well ; even so shall it be ; but 
 Inez, I would question you further, and see you an- 
 swer me truly, as you desire the intercession of the 
 blessed Virgin." 
 
 Inez lifted her head, and fixing her eyes full on his 
 swarthy face, replied with energy: 
 
 " My father, even as I desire the intercession of 
 our blessed Virgin, so will I answer." 
 
 The head was bent again on her bosom. He had 
 sought to read her countenance during that brief 
 glance, but there was a something in its dark depths 
 he could not quite understand. 
 
 " My daughter, hast thou been of late with that 
 Protestant girl, by name Mary Irving." 
 
 " I have seen her twice since last confession." 
 
 " Where did you meet her ?" 
 
 " Once at Sefiora Perraras, and once she came for 
 me, to walk with her." 
 
 " Answer truly. Upon what subject did you con- 
 verse ?"
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 6x 
 
 Inez seemed striving to recall some portion of what 
 had passed. At last she said, " Indeed, Padre, I can* 
 not remember much she said. It was mostly of 
 birds, and trees, and flowers, and something, I be- 
 lieve, about this beautiful town, as she called it." 
 
 " Think again. Did she not speak lightly of the 
 blessed church, and most holy faith ? Did she not 
 strive to turn you to her own cursed doctrines, and, 
 above all, did she not speak of me, your Padre, with 
 scorn ?" 
 
 ** No, my father, most truly she did not." Again 
 she raised her eyes to his face. Piercing was the 
 glance he bent upon her. Yet hers fell not beneath 
 it : calm and immovable she seemed. 
 
 He lifted his hand menacingly. 
 
 " I bid you now beware of her and her friend, the 
 trader's wife. They are infernal heretics, sent 
 hither by the evil one to turn good Catholics from 
 their duty. I say again, beware of them !" and he 
 struck his hand heavily on the table beside him. 
 " And now, my daughter, have you relieved your 
 conscience of its burden? Remember, one sin with- 
 held at confession will curse you on your death-bed, 
 and send you, unshriven, to perdition!" 
 
 A sort of shudder ran through the bowed form of 
 Inez, and in a low tone she replied, " I also accuse 
 myself of all the sins that may have escaped my 
 memory, and by which, as well as those I have con- 
 fessed, I have offended Almighty God through my 
 most grievous fault." 
 
 " I enjoin upon you as penance for the omission
 
 62 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 of the holy ordinances of our most holy church, five 
 Credos when you hear the matin bell, twelve Paters 
 when noon comes round, and five Aves at vespers. 
 These shall you repeat, kneeling upon the hard floor, 
 with the crucifix before you and your rosary in your 
 hand. In addition, you must repair to a cell of San 
 Jose and there remain one month. Moreover, you 
 shall see and speak to none save the holy sisters. 
 And now, my daughter, I would absolve you." 
 
 Inez bent low while he spread his hands above her 
 head and pronounced the Latin text to that effect, 
 then bade her rise, and dismissed her with a bless- 
 ing. 
 
 The sun was just visible over the eastern hills as 
 Inez stepped upon the plaza. Her face was deadly 
 pale and the black eyes glittered strangely. 
 
 " I have knelt to you for the last time, Father 
 Mazzolin. Long enough you have crushed me to 
 the earth; one short month of seeming servitude, 
 and I am free. Think you I too can not see the 
 gathering tempest? For long I have watched it rise. 
 It may be that happiness is denied me; but yonder 
 gurgling waters shall receive my body ere I become 
 a lasting inmate of your gloomy cell. My plan works 
 well; even my wily Padre thinks me penitent for 
 the past ! But dearly have I bought my safety. I 
 have played false ! lied ! where is my conscience ? 
 Have I one ? No, no ! 'tis dead. Dead from the 
 hour I listened to the Padre's teachings ! If there 
 be a hereafter, and, oh ! if there is a God, what will 
 become of me ?" and the girl shuddered convulsively.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 63 
 
 * Yet I have heard him lie. I know that even he 
 heeds not the laws of his pretended God ! He bade 
 me follow his teachings, and I did and I deceived 
 him! Ha! he thinks the game all at his fingers' 
 ends. But I will neither marry Mafiuel nor be a 
 holy sister of Jose. There will come a time for me. 
 Now I must work, keep him in the dark, spend the 
 month in seclusion ; by that time the troubles here 
 will begin, and who may tell the issue ?" 
 
 A quick step behind her caused Inez to turn in 
 the midst of her soliloquy. Dr. Bryant was hasten- 
 ing by, but paused at sight of her face. 
 
 " Ah, Sefiorita! How do you do this beautiful 
 morning ?" He looked at her earnestly, and added: 
 " You are too pale, Inez much too pale. Your mid- 
 night vigils do not agree with you; believe me I 
 speak seriously; you will . undermine your health." 
 Her eyes were fixed earnestly on his noble face, 
 beaming with benevolence, and a slight flush tinged 
 her cheek as she replied: " Dr. Bryant, I am not 
 the devout Catholic you suppose me. The Padre 
 thinks me remiss in many of my duties, and I am 
 going for a short time to San Jose. You need not 
 look at me so strangely, I have no idea of becoming 
 a nun, I assure you." 
 
 44 Inez, one of your faith can never be sure of any 
 thing; let me entreat you not to go to the convent. 
 You need recreation, and had much better mount 
 your pony, and canter a couple of miles every morn- 
 ing; it would insure a more healthful state of both 
 body and mind.**
 
 64 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " I must go, Dr. Bryant." 
 
 " Well then, good-by, if you must, yet I fear you 
 will not return looking any better." 
 
 " Adios," and they parted. 
 
 Inez's eye followed the retreating form till an ad- 
 joining corner intervened. Then pressing her hand 
 on her heart, as if to still some exquisite pain, she 
 murmured in saddened tones " Oh! I would lay 
 down my life for your love, yet it is lavished on one 
 who has no heart to give in return. Oh, that I may 
 one day be able to serve you!" 
 
 At that moment she perceived Mafiuel Nevarro 
 crossing the Plaza, and drawing closer the mantilla, 
 she hastened homeward. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " A perfect woman, nobly planned ; 
 To warn, to counsel, to command, 
 The reason firm, the temperate will, 
 Prudence, foresight, strength, and skill." 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 THE beautiful ideal of Wordsworth seemed realized 
 in Mrs. Carlton. She was by nature impetuous, and 
 even irritable ; but the careful training of her deeply 
 pious mother early eradicated these seeds of discord 
 and future misery. She reared her " in the way she 
 should go," and taught her to " remember her Ore-
 
 INEZ ,' A TALB OF THE ALAMO. 65 
 
 ator in the days of her youth.*' Crushing vanity, 
 which soon rose hydra-headed in her path, she im- 
 planted in her daughter's heart a sense of her own 
 unworthiness, and led her to the " fountain of light 
 and strength." 
 
 Under her judicious care, Ellen's character was 
 moulded into perfect beauty. She became a Chris- 
 tian, in the purest sense of the term. Hers were 
 not the gloomy tenets of the anchorite, who with a 
 sort of Spartan stoicism, severs every tie enjoined 
 by his great Creator, bids adieu to all of joy that 
 earth can give, and becomes a devotee at the shrine 
 of some canonized son of earth, as full of imperfec- 
 tions as himself. Neither did she hold the lighter 
 and equally dangerous creed of the latitudinarian. 
 Her views were of a happy medium; liberal, yet per- 
 fectly orthodox. 
 
 Ellen 'married early in life, and many were the 
 trials which rose up to test her fortitude, and even 
 her reliance on Almighty God. Of six beautiful 
 children that blessed her union, four went down to 
 an early tomb. Though bowed to the earth by the 
 weight of her affliction, she murmured not against 
 the hand that chastened her ; but as one by one was 
 snatched from her warm embrace, she poured out 
 the depth of a mother's love on the remaining two. 
 
 One stroke of fortune reduced her, in a day, from 
 affluence to comparative penury; and leaving his 
 luxurious home, Mr. Carlton resolved to seek his for- 
 tune in the Western World. Hither she had accom- 
 panied him, encountering, without a murmur, the
 
 66 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 numerous hardships, which those who have not en- 
 dured can never fully realize. They had preceded 
 Mr. Hamilton but a few months, and joyfully wel- 
 comed him as an agreeable acquisition to their little 
 circle. 
 
 Mrs. Carlton found in Mary a real friend; one 
 who sympathized with, and assisted her in her many 
 benevolent plans for ameliorating the condition of 
 the destitute Mexicans around them. 
 
 With Florence, the former had little affinity, and, 
 consequently, little intercourse. Their tastes were 
 directly opposite; and though they often met, there 
 was no interchange of the deep and holier feelings of 
 the heart. 
 
 Frank Bryant was the orphan- brother of Mrs. 
 Carlton, and almost as dearly loved by her as her 
 
 own darling Elliot. A few months before St. f s 
 
 day, he reached San Antonio, on a visit to the sister, 
 from whom he had been separated several years. 
 Soon after his arrival, an epidemic made its appear- 
 ance among the lower order of Mexicans ; and as 
 there was no resident physician at that early time, 
 his services were speedily in requisition. The Padre, 
 who numbered among his many acquirements a tol- 
 erable knowledge of medicine, viewed with indiffer- 
 ence the suffering around him; and was only roused 
 from his lethargy by discovering the flattering esti- 
 mation in which Frank was held. Fearing so for- 
 midable a rival in the affections of his people, he 
 left no means untried to undermine the popularity so 
 deservedly acquired. But gratitude is a distinguish-
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 67 
 
 ing trait of Indian character ; and though apparently 
 obeying the injunctions of their Padre, to follow no 
 directions save his own, they reverenced Dr. Bryant 
 as a being of superior order. 
 
 It was beside the bed of a dying friend that Inez 
 first met him. One long, weary night they watched 
 together, and when at last death freed the sufferer, 
 with mingled emotions of admiration and gratitude 
 she thanked him for the attentions conferred with 
 such disinterested benevolence. She could not 
 avoid contrasting the conduct of the cold and calcu- 
 lating Jesuit with the warm-hearted kindness of the 
 noble stranger. 
 
 In a few days it became evident that she had her- 
 self imbibed the disease, and her terrified father be- 
 sought the young physician to restore her. With un- 
 wearied patience he watched over the beautiful 
 Sefiorita, whom Mrs. Carlton and Mary most care- 
 fully nursed, and was rewarded by the glow of re- 
 turning health. 
 
 The idols of her youth were neglected and for- 
 gotten ; one image filled Inez's heart, and before it 
 she poured out all the passionate love of her ardent 
 nature; hence her aversion to a union with Mafiuel 
 Nevarro. 
 
 Dr. Bryant early perceived her attachment; and 
 knowing full well that he could never return it, 
 avoided her society with a delicacy peculiarly his 
 own. When thrown accidentally into her presence, 
 his manner was frank, kind, and brotherly. 
 
 did not deceive herself for a moment by sup-
 
 68 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 posing that he would ever return her love. She 
 knew too well the nature of the barrier which inter- 
 vened. To remain unfettered, to see, to love, and 
 one day to serve him, was her dearest wish; and for 
 its gratification she dared the rage of her father, and 
 the hatred of her Padre. She fancied he loved 
 another, and with the characteristic jealousy of her 
 nation, an aversion to that object settled on her 
 heart. 
 
 Dr. Bryant had nursed the last patient into conva- 
 lescence: still he lingered, and at the close of 
 
 St. *s day, announced his intention of remaining 
 
 until the difficulties with Mexico were either ami- 
 cably arranged, or war declared. Mary and Flor- 
 ence he often met, for he was a constant visitor at 
 Mr. Hamilton's. His manner toward them was 
 very different; with Mary he ever assumed the 
 light bantering tone of brotherly freedom; with 
 Florence he was always grave and earnest. Their 
 conversation was generally upon literary topics, of 
 which she was fond. Many were their discussions 
 for and against their favorite authors and philoso- 
 phers. In these arguments Mary seldom took part, 
 though fully qualified to do so. Occasionally her 
 cousin asked her opinion on various topics ; at such 
 times she gave them clearly, yet modestly, and with 
 a gentle dignity peculiar to herself. The earnest at- 
 tention with which Frank listened to her views, and 
 his happy smile, when they coincided with his own, 
 somewhat puzzled Mary; yet she welcomed his re- 
 partees with the same bright smile, and allowed 
 distrust and jealousy no room in her heart.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 69 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " He swore that love of souls 
 Alone had drawn him to the church ; yet strewed 
 The path that led to hell with tempting flowers, 
 And in the ear of sinners, as they took 
 The way of death, he whispered peace." 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 How wearily pass the hours to the anxious watcher 
 beside the couch of pain. To her, it seems as though 
 the current of time had forgotten to run on and join 
 the mighty past, and that its swift waters were 
 gathering glassily around her. With unmitigated 
 care Florence had attended the bedside of her suffer- 
 ing parent; occasionally slumbering on his pillow, 
 but more frequently watching through the long 
 nights, and often stealing to the casement, to look 
 out upon surrounding gloom, and wonder if the light 
 of day would ever fall again on earth. Ah ! in the 
 midnight hour, when all nature is hushed, when uni- 
 versal darkness reigns, when the " still small voice " 
 will no longer be silenced, then we are wont to com- 
 mune with our own hearts. All barriers melt away ( 
 and the saddened past, the troubled present, and the 
 shadowy future rise successively before us, and re- 
 fuse to be put by. In vain we tightly close the 
 aching lids ; strange lurid lights flare around us, and 
 mysterious forms glide to and fro. 
 
 To the guilty, how fearful must the season of dark-
 
 TO INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 ness prove, when, unable longer to escape from 
 themselves, they yield to the pangs of remorse, and 
 toss in unutterable anguish ' 
 
 "By night, an atheist half believes a God." 
 
 And thousands, who in the sunny light of day rush 
 madly on to ruin, pause, shudderingly, in the mid- 
 night hour, and look yearningly toward the narrow 
 path where Virtue's lamp, flashing into the deepest 
 recesses of surrounding gloom, dispels all shadow; 
 and, in imagination, view the Christian peacefully 
 descending the hill of life, fearlessly crossing the 
 " valley of the shadow of death," and resting at last 
 on that blest shore, where night and darkness are 
 unknown, " swallowed up in endless day." 
 
 It was very evident that Mr. Hamilton could 
 survive but a few days; and to every entreaty that 
 she would take some rest, Florence but shook her 
 head, and replied, that she would not leave him when 
 he must die so soon. 
 
 One evening Dr. Bryant, having administered a 
 soothing potion, turned to her and said, " My dear 
 Miss Hamilton, you will seriously injure your health 
 by such constant watching. Your father needs noth- 
 ing now but quiet. Let me entreat you to go out 
 for a short time; the air will refresh you, and your 
 aunt will remain with Mr. Hamilton." He drew 
 her reluctantly from her seat as he spoke, and whis- 
 pered Mary to accompany her. 
 
 Drawing her arm round Florence, Mary turned in 
 the direction of their accustomed rambles, but her
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 7 1 
 
 cousin said, " I am too weary to walk far, let us go 
 to our old seat by the river." 
 
 The stream was only a few yards distant, and they 
 seated themselves on a broad, flat stone, beneath a 
 cluster of pomegranate and figs. The evening was 
 beautifully clear, the soft light which still lingered 
 in the west mellowing every object, and the balmy 
 southern breeze, fresh from " old ocean's bosom," 
 rustling musically amidst the branches above. As 
 if to enhance the sweetness of the hour, and win the 
 mourners from their sad thoughts, the soothing tones 
 of the vesper-bells floated afar on the evening air; 
 distance had softened them, and now they sounded 
 clear and Eolian-like. The river eddied and curled 
 rapidly along at their feet ; and ever and anon, the 
 stillness that seemed settling around was broken by 
 
 the plunging fish that gamboled in hundreds amidst 
 
 its blue waters. 
 
 " How calm and holy this stillness seems ! Florry, 
 
 does it not cause you to lift your heart in gratitude 
 
 to the * Almighty Giver ' of so many blessings?" 
 " All things are dark to sorrow;" replied Florence, 
 
 and folding her arms across her bosom, she dropped 
 
 her head wearily upon them. 
 " Oh, Florry, do not give up so I can not bear 
 
 to hear your despairing tone. Still hope; your dear 
 
 father may be spared to us;" and she put her arms 
 
 caressingly around her. 
 " Hope !" echoed Florence ; " I have ceased to hope 
 
 that he will recover. I know that he can not ; and 
 
 in a few hours I shall be alone in the world. Alone,
 
 72 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 alone !" she repeated the words as if fully to realize 
 the misery in store for her. " O God ! why hast thou 
 not taken me before ? Take me now ; oh, in mercy 
 take me with him!" 
 
 In vain Mary strove to soothe and console her; 
 she remained perfectly still, her face hid in her 
 arms, and replied not to her anxious questionings. 
 A long silence ensued, and Mary wept. A feeling 
 of desolation began to creep over her; a second time 
 she was to be thrown on the wide, cold world. She 
 thought of her uncle's generosity and unvaried kind, 
 ness during the many years she had dwelt under his 
 roof, and scarcely felt that it was not her own. And 
 then there stole up the image of her lost mother 
 the wan, but saint-like face, and the heavenly smile 
 with which she pointed upwards, and bade her child 
 prepare for the glorious union, in that mansion 
 which Jehovah assigned to those who are faithful on 
 earth. 
 
 Poor Mary's heart was sad indeed; yet there was 
 no bitterness in her soul, no rebellious feelings to- 
 ward Almighty God, who had thus afflicted her so 
 sorely. She wiped away her tears, and calming her- 
 self as much as possible, repeated in a faltering 
 voice the beautiful hymn commencing " I would not 
 Eve always." She paused at the conclusion of the 
 second verse; but Florence did not lift her head, 
 and hoping to cheer her, she finished the hymn. 
 
 Twilight had fallen on the earth, and the blue 
 vault of heaven was studied with its myriad lamps. 
 The new moon glittered like a golden thread low
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 73 
 
 In the west and seemed almost to rest upon the 
 bosom of the stream, as it curved in the distance to 
 meet the horizon. 
 
 " Come, Florry, you must not stay out so late; I 
 am afraid you will take cold!" 
 
 Florence rose mechanically and accompanied her. 
 
 " Oh, Florry, do try and trust in God, and believe 
 that in every trial and affliction he will comfort and 
 assist us." 
 
 Her cousin sighed heavily but made no reply. 
 
 As they reached the gate it was quickly opened, 
 and the Padre met them ; he bowed coldly to Mary, 
 but shook hands with Florence, and promised to 
 come again the ensuing day. It was so late that 
 Mary could not distinguish his features; but just 
 as he turned to go, Aunt Fanny threw open the kit- 
 chen door, and the light streamed full on his face; 
 their eyes met, and she started at the smile of triumph 
 that irradiated his dark countenance ; he bowed and 
 passed on. 
 
 Mary hastened down the walk and entered the 
 sick room, fearing she scarcely knew what. The in- 
 valid was tossing restlessly from side to side, and on 
 the pillow lay a rosary and crucifix. For an instant 
 she stood motionless; then sprang forward, and 
 clasped his burning hand in hers. 
 
 " Uncle ! dear uncle ! tell me who has been with 
 you ! Aunt Lizzy promised she would not leave you 
 till we came back. You have been excited; your 
 hands are burning with fever!" 
 
 " I was not alone, Mary; the Padre sat and talked
 
 74 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 with me;" as the sufferer spoke, he shuddered and 
 closed his eyes. 
 
 " And did he leave these here ?" said she, taking up 
 the crucifix and rosary. 
 
 " No, no ! they are mine !" and he snatched them 
 from her. 
 
 Mary turned pale, and leaned against the bed for 
 support. Florence, now bending over her father, 
 motioned to her cousin to be silent ; without effect, 
 however; for, passing round the bed, she knelt be- 
 side him. " Uncle, was it by your desire that the 
 Padre came here this evening ?" 
 
 He did not seem to hear her question ; she repeated 
 it. 
 
 " Yes; that is, this is not his first visit." 
 
 " Uncle, why do you evade me ? Tell me, I entreat 
 you, if he did not force himself here in my absence !" 
 
 " Mary, will you drive my father delirious with 
 your interference with his wishes ?" 
 
 " No, Florry, not when I am convinced that such 
 are his wishes. I know that in health he is no more 
 a Papist than you or I; yet now I see him clinging 
 to that rosary and crucifix, what am I to think ? If 
 you can explain this mystery, do so, Florry." 
 
 " The day that you were at Mrs. Carlton's learn- 
 ing to make that custard my father likes so well, the 
 Padre came and kindly sat with him some time. He 
 came the next night, and the next; and read and 
 prayed with him. I hope you are satisfied now that 
 there is no intrusion." All this was whispered 
 so low as not to reach the ears of the invalid.
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 7$ 
 
 " Were you present at any of these interviews, 
 Florry ?" 
 
 " No; they always preferred being alone." 
 " Oh ! why did you not tell me this before ?" 
 " I am sure I can't see what you are so excited 
 about ! If my father chooses to become a Catholic, 
 I should think it would relieve you to know that he 
 realizes his situation." She turned resolutely away 
 as she finished speaking, and seated herself beside 
 the bed. 
 
 Mary left the room almost stunned by the dis- 
 covery she had made ; and scarce knowing what to 
 do, wrapped her shawl about her and walked quickly 
 to Mrs. Carlton's. To her she related all she had 
 just learned, and begged her advice and assistance. 
 
 Mrs. Carlton was sorely puzzled and much dis- 
 tressed. 
 
 " I fear, Mary, it is too late to remedy the evil." 
 " Oh, do not say so ! I cannot bear that he should 
 die in that faith; he is too feeble to oppose anything 
 they offer, and is scarcely conscious of his own ac- 
 tions. In health, they dared not approach him ; for 
 they knew full well that he scorned their creed and 
 disliked their Padre. Yet now that he is so weak, 
 in both body and mind, they hope to influence him. 
 Oh, how could Florence be so blind ? Dear Mrs. 
 Carleton, come and reason with him. I know he 
 he esteems you very highly, and your opinion might 
 weigh with hiir " 
 
 " Indeed, my dear child, I will do all in my power 
 to dissuade him from the unfortunate course he has 
 Vol. 6 D Evans
 
 j6 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 taken, but not to-night ; he must be wearied very 
 much already. I will come in the morning." 
 
 Early the ensuing day she fulfilled her promise, 
 and in Florence's presence strove to elicit his views 
 and belief. To her surprise he refused to hold any 
 conversation on the subject; declaring that his mind 
 was made up, and that he was determined to die a 
 member of the holy Catholic Church. 
 
 Before she could frame a reply they were startled 
 by the sound of a struggle at the door, and the next 
 moment it was flung wide open and Father Mazzolin, 
 livid with -rage, rushed in. Mrs. Carlton rose with 
 gentle dignity and inquired his business. He heeded 
 not her question but strode to the bed and whispered 
 in Mr. Hamilton's ear. The invalid, in a voice so 
 feeble that it was scarce audible, requested them to 
 leave him with the Padre for an hour, as he wished 
 to converse with him alone. Mrs. Carleton perfectly 
 well understood that he but repeated the priest's 
 orders, and perceiving that nothing could now be 
 effected, left the room accompanied by Florence. 
 But Mary clung to the bed and refused to go. 
 
 " You have taken advantage of my uncle's weak- 
 ness to force yourself where your presence is unwel- 
 come, and I will not leave him when he is too weak 
 to oppose your orders." 
 
 He strove to force her out but she clung firmly to 
 the bed ; and muttering an oath between his teeth, 
 he turned to the sufferer and spoke in an unknown 
 tongue; a feeble response in the same language 
 seemed to satisfy him, and darting a triumphant
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 77 
 
 glance at the kneeling girl, he seated himself and 
 conversed for nearly an hour. Then offering up a 
 Latin prayer, departed, promising to come again. 
 
 Mrs. Carlton had not left the house; she waited 
 anxiously for Mary. And when Florence re-entered 
 the sick-room, the former hastened to her friend. 
 
 "Oh, I did all I could to prevent it !" cried Mary, 
 in despair. " All is over, I am afraid. I was sitting 
 on the door step preparing some arrowroot, when I 
 saw Aunt Lizzie go out the gate. I thought it strange 
 at the time of day, but never suspected the truth. 
 Presently I saw her coming back with the priest, and 
 knew in an instant she had gone for him. I was 
 determined to prevent his seeing my uncle if possi- 
 ble, and fastened the front door. Before I could 
 lock my uncle's, he wrenched open the window and 
 sprang in. I tried to put the key in my pocket and 
 told him he could not go in then ; but he made Aunt 
 Lizzy hold one of my hands, while he forced open 
 my fingers and took the key. Oh ! that Dr. Bryant 
 had been here." She showed Mrs. Carlton the marks 
 of his grasp on her wrist. " Tell, oh, tell me what 
 I can do to save him !" 
 
 " Alas ! nothing, Mary. He is completely under 
 the control of the Padre, and no reasoning will avail 
 now." 
 
 With a sad heart Mrs. Carlton took leave, advising 
 Mary " to offer no further resistance, as it was now 
 impossible to convince her uncle of his error."
 
 78 INEZ : A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " He's gone his soul hath ta'en its earthless flight, 
 Whither ? I dread to think but he is gone I" 
 
 Byron. 
 
 MR. HAMILTON, though perfectly conscious that 
 his end was rapidly approaching, had scrupulously 
 avoided the subject in the presence of the girls. One 
 morning after a night of more than ordinary suffer- 
 ing, he lay quite exhausted. Death was at hand, 
 and feeling intuitively that the appointed hour had 
 arrived, he requested all to withdraw, save Florence. 
 When they were alone he laid his hand on her head 
 and said, in a low, feeble tone " Florence, I am 
 going. I cannot survive this day, and I wish to give 
 you my last advice. I am afraid your lot will be a 
 hard one when I am gone; trials without number 
 are in store for you. Oh ! my proud-hearted, beau- 
 tiful Florence, what will become of you now ?" He 
 covered his face with his hands a moment, then con- 
 tinued " I do not wish you to return to your native 
 place. My child must be dependent on no one, yet 
 to leave you here so unprotected, is hard indeed. 
 Dr. Bryant has promised to watch over you, and the 
 Carltons are kind friends. Florence, you must de- 
 pend upon yourself. Thank God, you are strong- 
 minded; and Mary, our kind, good Mary, will be 
 near to comfort and assist you. I am growing 
 weaker, but there is one more thing I wish to say."
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 79 
 
 He paused, and for the first time Florence spoke. 
 
 " My father, tell me every wish; fear nothing for 
 me, there is nothing I can not bear now." 
 
 " For my sake, Florence, if not for your own, will 
 you promise to be guided by Father Mazzolin ?" 
 
 " Do you mean in matters of religion, my father ?" 
 
 " I mean in all things; matters of interest as well 
 as matters of faith. He will assist you much if you 
 will but follow his advice and directions." 
 
 There was a pause, and then Florence said slowly, 
 as if weighing every word " Rest assured your 
 wishes shall be my law. I will consult the Padre as 
 you desire." 
 
 With a look of relief the dying man sank back on 
 his pillow, and closed his eyes. Florence quickly 
 summoned the physician and her aunt and cousin. 
 A little while after, as Mr. Hamilton's eye fell on the 
 weeping Mary, he extended his hand, and when she 
 bent over him, drew her face down and imprinted 
 a long kiss on hei pale cheek. Even as he did so a 
 dark form glided to the bedside. Another moment 
 the uncle and niece were separated ; none knew how, 
 yet the Padre stood between, whispering low in the 
 sufferer's ear. Almost gasping for breath, the latter 
 intimated his desire to confess for the last time. 
 And they were left alone. 
 
 Nearly an hour after the priest entered the apart- 
 ment where Florence and Mary sat. He trembled 
 visibly, yet, in his usual tone, said that he wished 
 the family to be present at the last rites about to be 
 performed for the dying Papist. They immediately
 
 8o INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 repaired to the sick room, and the spectacle there 
 presented made Mary quiver in every limb. The 
 sufferer had been placed for convenience on a low 
 couch, and was supported by pillows in an upright 
 position. A dozen candles burnt around him, and 
 a cloud of incense wreathed slowly along the wall. 
 The room had been profusely sprinkled with holy 
 water, and a chalice containing the consecrated 
 wafer, sat near. Gasping for breath, Mr. Hamilton 
 clasped a crucifix to his lips, though unable from 
 weakness to secure it there; for twice it fell from 
 his fingers and rolled to the floor. 
 
 Father Mazzolin, attired in a surplice ornamented 
 with the insignia of his order, stood beside the bed, 
 holding in one hand a superbly-bound volume in 
 the other a silver cup containing oil. 
 
 After a moment's pause he opened the book, and 
 hurriedly read in a low, muttering tone, a Latin ser- 
 vice of several pages. At the conclusion he care- 
 fully poured out a few drops of the oil, and just 
 touched the palms of the sufferer's hands, and the 
 soles of his feet, bidding him at the same time cross 
 himself. Perceiving that he was utterly unable to 
 do so, he hastily signed the figure and resumed his 
 reading. How long he would have^gabbled on, it 
 is impossible to say, but a gasping sound from 
 the dying man' declared that dissolution was at 
 hand, and snatching the chalice, he hastily admin- 
 istered the wafer, which was swallowed with diffi- 
 culty. For the third time, Father Mazzolin strove 
 to replace the crucifix in his hand and bend it to
 
 INEZ : A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 8 1 
 
 his lips. The cold fingers refused to clasp the 
 consecrated wood, and sank, stiffened and powerless 
 by his side. 
 
 Mary had gazed mournfully on as this mummery 
 was enacted. A deathbed for a theatre, weeping 
 relatives an audience, and Father Mazzolin an 
 amateur performer. Aunt Lizzy was kneeling be- 
 side the Padre, ever and anon invoking the Virgin; 
 while Florence sat with her face in her hands, almost 
 as unconscious of what passed as her dying parent. 
 She bent over him now, and in heart-rending ac- 
 cents conjured him not to leave her. He struggled 
 in vain to utter words of comfort ; they died away 
 in whispers, and, with a slight moan, the spirit re- 
 turned to the God that gave it. The Padre snatched 
 his hat and hastily left the house, while Mary gave 
 vent to an uncontrollable burst of sorrow. Florence 
 seemed suddenly frozen, so rigid was her counte- 
 nance as she gazed on the cold form below her. She 
 neither wept nor moaned, but closed the eyes with 
 a long, long kiss, and drawing a sheet over the mar- 
 ble features, turned with a slow, unfaltering step, 
 away,
 
 82 INEZ : A TALE O- THE ALAMO. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " For now that Hope's last ray is gone. 
 
 Sure Lethe's dream would bless : 
 In grief to think of bliss that's flown, 
 Adds pangs to wretchedness." 
 
 Anonymous. 
 
 A FORTNIGHT had passed, and again it was evening. 
 In the small dining-room of Florence Hamilton's 
 humble home was assembled the now diminished 
 family circle. Florence sat sadly apart, leaning her 
 head, with closed eyes, against the window. The 
 tea- bell rang; she lifted her head, glanced round the 
 room, and wearily dropped her brow again on its 
 resting place. Mary approached, and taking her 
 hand, said in a gentle, winning tone, " Come, Florry 
 dear." 
 
 " Eat your supper, Mary; I do not wish any." 
 
 " But you have not eaten anything to-day, and 
 need something ; do try, for my sake." 
 
 " I can not. If you knew how both head and heart 
 ache, you would not urge me." 
 
 Mary turned away, and ate the usually joyous 
 meal with a heavy heart. Florence had left her seat, 
 and was standing in the door; as her cousin rose 
 from the table she beckoned to her, and passed hur- 
 riedly out. Mary strove to catch her arm, but she 
 hastened on as if trying to escape from herself.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 8j 
 
 Suddenly she paused by the river side, and clasped 
 her hands convulsively over her head. 
 
 " Mary! Mary! you know not what I suffer." 
 
 " Florry, sit down, and lean your weary head on 
 my shoulder." 
 
 She dipped her hand in the water, and dashed the 
 cold, sparkling drops on her cousin's burning brow, 
 speaking the while in a low, soothing tone. Flor- 
 ence rested a few moments in her cousin's arms, 
 then threw herself on a grassy bank, and covered 
 her face; one long, deep groan alone attesting her 
 mental anguish. Mary wept more bitterly than she 
 had yet done; still, she was so quiet, none would 
 have known her grief, save from the tears that fell 
 over her hand and arms. Can it be, that the spirits 
 of departed friends hover near us while on earth, 
 and draw closer in hours of woe ? If so, why is it 
 denied to the suffering one to hear again the dear 
 accents of the " loved and lost ?" Why may not 
 their silver pinions fan the burning brow of sorrow- 
 ing mortality, and the echo of Heaven's own melody 
 murmur gently, " Peace, peace and joy for ever- 
 more ?" 
 
 Florence stood up before her cousin ; all trace of 
 emotion had passed away, and left her calm. The 
 bright moon shone full on her face. Oh! how 
 changed since the morning she stood in Madame 
 
 's school-room. The large dark eyes were 
 
 sunken; the broad brow marked with lines of men- 
 tal anguish ; the cheeks colorless, and her long, raven 
 hair tossed back, and hanging like a vail below her
 
 84 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 slender waist. There was & hollow, wasted look in 
 every feature; the expression was one of hopeless 
 misery, and a something there was which made the 
 heart ache, yet the haughty glance of other days 
 might still be seen. 
 
 "Mary, look at me!" 
 
 "Well, Florry, I have looked at you, and sad 
 enough it makes me feel." 
 
 44 1 am changed, Mary, strangely changed, am I 
 not ? Answer me truly." 
 
 " Yes, you look weary and ill; but why do you ask 
 me such a question ? You have had cause to look 
 pale." 
 
 " Ah! you say truly; but, Mary, have you never 
 suspected that a secret grief was freezing the life- 
 blood in my cheeks ?" 
 
 " Florry, what do you mean ? I am afraid you are 
 feverish !" and Mary laid her hand anxiously on her 
 cousin's. It was flung contemptuously off. 
 
 44 Mary, listen to what I have to say. I am in a 
 strange mood to-night, and you must not contradict 
 me. Where shall I begin ? When my mother died 
 I was four years old, they say, and a very delicate 
 child. My mother! how strange it sounds. Yet I 
 can at times faintly remember her beautiful face. 
 Very faintly, as in a dream, I have seen an angel 
 visitant. My mother, why did you leave your hap- 
 less babe ? Oh ! why ? my mother ! I was left much 
 to myself, and followed unrestrained my own inclin- 
 ations. You know my fondness for books; that 
 fondness was imbibed in girlhood, as I wandered in
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 85 
 
 my own sunny home my lost home. My father 
 taught me to conceal my emotions to keep down 
 the rising sob, to force back the glittering tear; and 
 when I smiled over some childish grief, applauded 
 my stoicism. I became unnatural, cold, haughty, 
 but not unfeeling. I remember well how your pale 
 face and mourning dress touched my heart, and 
 waked my sympathies. From that hour I lavished 
 my love on my father and yourself. Years passed 
 
 and we went to New Orleans " Here Florence 
 
 paused, and closed her eyes for a moment, but 
 quickly resumed " You know how I studied. Mary, 
 was it merely from love of metaphysics and philos- 
 ophy, think you? No, no! Mr. Stewart's look of 
 surprise and pleasure as, one by one, I mastered va- 
 rious intricacies, was the meed for which I toiled. 
 Mary, from the first day we met, I loved him, for 
 his was a master spirit. I worshiped him in my in- 
 most soul, and he loved me in return. I know 
 I feel that he did. Yet he was even prouder than 
 myself, and would have scorned to speak of love to 
 one who never smiled in his presence. Oh ! often 
 when he stood beside my desk giving instruction, 
 my heart has sprung to him. I have longed to hear 
 the words of tenderness that welled up from his 
 heart, but scorned to tremble on his lips. No look 
 of love ever fell on me. His glance was cold and 
 haughty. Oh, how inconsistent is woman ! I yearned 
 for his love; yet, had he tendered it, under my 
 haughtiness would have dropped my idol have 
 shivered it at my feet. Weeks passed, and while
 
 86 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 near him I knew no sorrow; but the morning of my 
 life was destined to be short. The cloud that had 
 lowered on the horizon suddenly darkened around. 
 That never-to-be-forgotten letter came, and I saw a 
 great gulf open at my feet. An invisible hand 
 placed Dudley Stewart on one brink, and I was left 
 upon the other; and an unknown messenger thun- 
 dered the decree of separation ' Forget the past and 
 live again in the future !' I started as from a fright- 
 ful dream. The cold reality forced itself upon me. 
 Mary, a suspicion stole into my heart and stunned me. 
 I thought for a brief time that Mr. Stewart loved 
 you, and whose hand may register the darkened 
 thoughts that crowded bitterly up ? The morning we 
 left New Orleans, I went into the school-room for our 
 books. Ah ! who may know the agony of that hour ! 
 I sat down in his chair, and laid my head on his desk, 
 and groaned in mine anguish of spirit. Oh ! Mary, 
 that was the blackest, bitterest hour of my life. I 
 had fancied he loved me ; I feared I was deceived ; I 
 hated despised myself for my weakness. Yet I 
 could not reproach him ; he had never sought my love. 
 " I had just risen from his desk when Mr. Stewart 
 came in. He did not seem to see me, but took a seat 
 near the door. I was well-nigh exhausted, but strove 
 to appear as cold and indifferent as ever. I gath- 
 ered up my books and turned to go, then he laid 
 down his pen, and came to me. 
 " 'I believe you and your cousin leave to-day ?' 
 " ' Yes, in this evening's boat,' I answered, much 
 as usual.
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 87 
 
 44 4 1 wish you a safe and pleasant voyage. My kind- 
 est adieux to your cousin. Good- by, Miss Hamilton.' 
 44 He held out his hand. I said ' good- by ' as clearly 
 and coldly as himself. Our hands met but an in- 
 stant. There was no pressure no warmth, and then 
 he opened the door for me to pass. As he did so, 
 our eyes met ; his glance was calm and cold, but his 
 lips were firmly compressed. Had he looked sad, 
 mournful, or tender, I should have passed out and 
 triumphed; but my overtasked strength gave way; 
 a cold shudder crept through my frame, and con- 
 sciousness forsook me. I never fainted before or 
 since. When I revived, I raised my head and looked 
 about me. I was reclining on a couch ; he kneeling 
 beside me, calmly, as he would have stood in class- 
 He held my hand, and pressed it warmly. 
 44 r Are you better now, Florence ?' 
 44 4 Oh, yes, thank you,' I said, and rose to my feet. 
 44 He still held my hand. I withdrew it, and 
 turned to the door. He placed himself before it, 
 and said * Florence, it was well done; you are an 
 admirable dissembler, but I am not deceived. You 
 love me, and have for long, yet I freely acknowledge 
 your love can never exceed my own. I love you bet- 
 ter than my life, though perfectly aware that we are 
 now parted forever. I am a poor tutor, dependent 
 on my daily exertions for subsistence; you the cher- 
 ished daughter of a wealthy and ambitious parent.' 
 44 He drew me to him, and imprinted a long kiss on 
 my lips; then put me gently back, and left the room. 
 44 1 never saw him again, but did I doubt his love f
 
 88 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 No, no! I would sooner doubt my own existence. 
 We embarked, as you know, in the evening. That 
 night was beautiful just such a one as this serene 
 and heavenly. I stole out on deck when others 
 slumbered, and for a long weary hour paced to and 
 fro. There was a wild tumult in my soul which 
 would not be stilled, and every restraining effort but 
 fanned the flame that raged within. A never-to-be- 
 forgotten contest was waged that night, and my 
 heart was the arena. My guardian angel whispered 
 low, ' Forget the past as a feverish dream; it is not 
 well for thee ; forget, forget !' But the heaven- born 
 accents were suddenly drowned by the wild shriek 
 of my dark destiny ' Of Lethe's waters thou shalt 
 never taste ! I have shattered the goblet~at thy feet, 
 and scattered the draught to the winds of heaven ! 
 Behold the apotheosis of thine idol ! At this shrine 
 shalt thou bow evermore evermore !' 
 
 " A new impulse was implanted within me; and, 
 impotent to resist, I was impelled onward, and on- 
 ward, till a chasm yawned at my feet. Yet a 
 moment I trembled on the brink, then plunged 
 desperately forward. Mary, listen. I knelt on the 
 damp, glistening deck, and implored Almighty God 
 to register my words in heaven. In his awful name 
 and presence, I solemnly swore to love Dudley 
 Stewart alone to be his wife, or go down to the 
 tomb as Florence Hamilton. I rose up calm the 
 fierce warring was stilled. Yet it was not inward 
 peace that succeeded. My fate was sealed the last 
 page of destiny transcribed.
 
 INEZ: A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 89 
 
 " Time passed, oblivious of the darkened hours it 
 bore on its broad bosom. Mary, I have watched 
 for one loved form, and listened for that calm, proud 
 step. I have loved, and trusted, and believed that 
 we should meet again. Deluded Florence ! a period 
 is put to thy hopes and fears ! Mary, he is married ! 
 All is over for me. The dull, heavy weight resting 
 upon my heart will soon crush out the life spark, and 
 lay low my proud head. Ah ! my cousin, you weep. 
 I wish that I could; but tears have been too often 
 scornfully repulsed; they come not now at my call. 
 Oh, Mary, I am weary, weary! I long for rest, even 
 the rest of the dark, still tomb ! I have no hope 
 no wish. I am passive now. At last nature has 
 broken the bonds so long forced upon her, and the 
 reaction is strong indeed. You ask how I received 
 my information : ah ! you need not doubt its authen- 
 ticity. Aunt Lizzy and his mother were old friends, 
 and she received a letter the day before my father 
 died, announcing his approaching union with a beau- 
 tiful cousin ! I am deservedly punished ; I wor- 
 shiped the creature and forgot the God. I needed a 
 desperate remedy, and it is administered." 
 
 As Florence concluded she leaned heavily against 
 a tree, and raised her eyes to the jeweled vault 
 above. Just then a dense black cloud, which had 
 floated up from the west, passed directly over the 
 moon, obscuring the silvery rays. She pointed to it, 
 and said, in a low, mournful voice " How typical of 
 my life and heart ; shut out from joy and hope in one 
 brief hour, unlike it ever to be brightened again."
 
 9O INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " Oh! Florry, dear Florry! turn to God for com- 
 fort and succor in this hour of need. He will enable 
 you to bear this trial, and go steadily on in the path 
 of duty." 
 
 " Mary, I have no incitement to exertion ; nothing 
 to anticipate. My future is blank and dreary. I 
 know my lot in life; I have nothing to hope for." 
 
 " Not so, Florry. Your future life will be an active 
 one. Are we not dependent on our exertions for 
 subsistence ? and does not our little school open to- 
 morrow ? Cheer up, darling! all may yet be bright. 
 Bury the painful remembrances of the past ; believe 
 me, peace, if not joyousness, will surely follow the 
 discharge of your duties." 
 
 " I can not forget the past. Had he sought my 
 love, I could scorn him for his baseness ; but it is 
 not so. I almost wish it were. Yet I know and 
 feel that he loves me; and oblivion of the past is as 
 impossible for him as myself. I know not what 
 strange impulse has induced me to tell you all this. 
 I did it half unconsciously, hoping for relief by re- 
 vealing that which has pressed so heavily on my 
 heart. Mary, never speak to me of it again; and, 
 above all, do not mention his name. It has passed 
 my lips for the last time, and all shall be locked 
 again within my own heart. We will open the 
 school to-morrow; and may God help me! Mary, 
 pray, oh, pray for me ! I had no mother to teach me 
 and prayer is a stranger to my lips." 
 
 She walked hurriedly to the house, and shut her- 
 self within her own apartment.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. pi 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " Freedom calls you 1 Quick I be ready; 
 
 Think of what your sires have been : 
 Onward ! onward ! strong and steady, 
 Drive the tyrant to his den." 
 
 Percival. 
 
 WHEN Iturbide attempted to free his oppressed 
 countrymen from the crushing yoke of Spanish 
 thralldom, Liberty was the watchword. Success 
 crowned his efforts sovereign power lay before 
 him. He grasped it, and made himself a despot. 
 Ambition hurled him from the throne of the Monte- 
 zumas, and laid his proud head low. A new star 
 rose on the stormy horizon of the west ; pure and 
 softly fell the rays on the troubled thousands round. 
 The voice of the new comer said " Peace," and the 
 wild tumult subsided. Ten years passed; Santa 
 Anna culminated. The gentle tones of the arch de- 
 ceiver were metamorphosed into the tiger's growl, 
 the constitution of 1824 subverted in a day, and he 
 ruled in the room of the lost Iturbide. 
 
 * * * 
 
 The Alamo was garrisoned. Dark bodies of Mex- 
 ican troops moved heavily to and fro, and cannon 
 bristled from the embrasures. The usually quiet 
 town was metamorphosed into a scene of riot and 
 clamor; and fandangos, at which Bacchus rather than 
 Terpslahore presided, often welcomed the new-born
 
 92 INEZ : A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 day. The few Americans* in San Antonio viewed 
 with darkened brows the insolent cavaliers. The 
 gauntlet was flung down there was no retraction, 
 no retreat. They knew that it was so, and girded 
 themselves for a desperate conflict. 
 
 The declaration of independence was enthusias- 
 tically hailed by the brave-hearted Texans, as they 
 sprang with one impulse to support the new-born 
 banner that floated so majestically over the sunny 
 prairies of their western home. Mechanic, states- 
 man, plowboy, poet, pressed forward to the ranks, 
 emulous of priority alone. A small but intrepid 
 band, they defied the tyrant who had subverted the 
 liberties of his country ; defied Santa Anna and his 
 fierce legions, and spurned the iron yoke which the 
 priests of Mexico vainly strove to plant upon their 
 necks. Liberty, civil and religious, was the watch- 
 word, and desperately they must struggle in the com- 
 ing strife. 
 
 Mafiuel Nevarro had eagerly enlisted in the Mex- 
 ican ranks, and in a few weeks after General Cos's 
 arrival, donned his uniform. Thus accoutred, he pre- 
 sented himself for the first time since their disagree- 
 ment, before Inez, who had but recently returned 
 from San Jose, doubting not that her admiration of 
 
 * It doubtless appears absurd to confine the title of 
 " Americans " to the few citizens of the United States who 
 emigrated to Texas, when all who inhabit the continent are 
 equally entitled to the appellation. Yet the distinction is 
 Mexican ; " Los Americanos " being the name applied to all 
 who are not of Spanish descent.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 93 
 
 his new dress would extend to him who filled it. In 
 truth, his was a fine form and handsome face; yet 
 sordid selfishness, and, in common parlance, " a de- 
 termination to have his own way," were indelibly 
 stamped upon his countenance. 
 
 Inez was busily preparing the evening meal when 
 he entered; and though perfectly aware of his pres- 
 ence, gave no indication of it. He stood aside and 
 watched her movements as she shaped and turned 
 the tortillas. Presently she began to sing 
 
 " He quits his mule, and mounts his horse, 
 
 And through the streets directs his course- 
 Through the streets of Gacatin, 
 To the Alhambra spurring in, 
 
 Wo is me, Alhama. 
 
 " And when the hollow drums of war 
 
 Beat the loud alarm afar, 
 That the Moors of town and plain 
 Might answer to the martial strain, 
 
 Wo is me, Alhama." 
 
 As the mournful cadence died away, she turned 
 and started with well-feigned surprise on meeting 
 the piercing glance fixed upon her. 
 
 " Ah, Mafiuel !" She held out both hands, with a 
 most amicable expression of countenance. He 
 grasped them, and would have kissed her beautiful 
 lips, but she slipped adroitly to one side " No, no! 
 Mafiuel. I'll not permit that till I am Sefiora Ne- 
 varro."
 
 94 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " And when will that be, Sefiorita ?" 
 
 " Not till the war is over." 
 
 " But it has not begun yet : and it will be many 
 moons before we whip these cursed Americanos." 
 
 " How many, think you, Manuel ?" 
 
 " I can't tell, Inez; therefore we will not wait till 
 the war is over. The Padre is ready any time, and 
 why not marry at once ?" 
 
 " Sacra Dios! Ill do no such thing." 
 
 " And why not, Inez ?" 
 
 " Because they might kill you, Mafiuel, and then 
 what would become of me ?" 
 
 " You would be as well off then as now; there 
 would be no difference, only you would be married. 
 You will mourn any how, if I am killed." 
 
 " How do you know I would ?" Her Spanish eyes 
 *winkled as she spoke ; but for fear of going too far, 
 she laid her hand on his shoulder. Mafiuel turned 
 sharply round. 
 
 " You deserve to be shot, Mafiuel, for joining in a 
 miff. Why didn't you tell me you were going to be 
 a soldier ?" 
 
 He grasped her hand tighter, but made no reply. 
 
 " I say, why did not you tell me first ?" 
 
 ' And if I had told you, what then ?" 
 
 " Why I should not have let you do it, you savage. 
 If you had only asked me, I might be willing to 
 marry you next week. But as it is, I am not going 
 to be left a widow, I can tell you." 
 
 " Inez, I don't believe you care whether I am 
 killed or not. I do not understand you at all."
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 95 
 
 The girl's eyes filled, and her lip quivered with 
 emotion. " Mafiuel, do you think me a brute ? There 
 is nobody to love Inez but her father and you. I 
 am not cold hearted." 
 
 "You speak truth, Inez; and my uncle will not 
 live very long, for he has seen many years. When 
 he is gone, there will be nobody to take care of you 
 but me; so the sooner we are married the better." 
 
 " Not so. You must come and see us as often as 
 you can till the war is over; but I will marry no one 
 now." 
 
 " Will you promise it shall be as soon as the war 
 is over ?" 
 
 Inez coquettishly tossed her beautiful head, and 
 advancing to the fire, gayly exclaimed " While we 
 talked the tortillas burned. Come, eat some supper. 
 I know they are as good as those you get at the 
 Alamo." 
 
 Mafiuel seated himself on a buffalo-robe, and while 
 partaking of the evening meal, Inez chatted away on 
 indifferent subjects, asking, during the conversation 
 what news had been received from the Texan 
 army. 
 
 41 We got news to-day that they are marching 
 down to Gonzales, but I am thinking they will find 
 hot work." 
 
 " How many men may we number, Mafiuel, and 
 think you the chances are for us ?" 
 
 " By the blessed Virgin, if we were not ten to 
 five, Manuel Nevarro would not eat this tortilla in
 
 96 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 peace. The Captain says we will scatter them like 
 pecans in a high wind." 
 
 " What bone is there to fight for at Gonzales ?" 
 
 " Cannon, Inez, cannon. Don't you know we sent 
 a thousand men to bring it here, and the white 
 rascal sent five hundred to keep it there. By the 
 Virgin, we will see who gets it !" 
 
 " Holy Mother protect us ! Mafiuel, take care of 
 yourself, man, and rush not into danger. It will 
 profit you little that we have many men, if some 
 strong arm tells your length on the sward." 
 
 " Never fear, Inez never fear. We must not 
 stop till every American turns his back on the Alamo, 
 and his face to the East." 
 
 " But you will not harm those that live here in 
 peace with all men ?" 
 
 " The Padre told our General yesterday, that we 
 must fight till all submitted, or the last American 
 child was driven to the far bank of the Sabine." 
 
 Inez laid her hand on his arm, and looking him 
 full in the face, asked, in a low tow " Mafiuel, would 
 you help to drive Mary from her home among us ? 
 She who nursed me in sickness, and bound the white 
 bread to your bleeding arm, and made the tea for 
 my dying mother, when none other came to help ? 
 Mafiuel ! Manuel ! she is alone in the world, with only 
 her cousin. Spare Mary in her little home; she 
 hurts none, but makes many to die in peace." 
 
 Mafiuel's face softened somewhat, but he replied 
 in the same determined tone " The Padre says she 
 is an accursed heretic, and he will not rest till she is
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 9/ 
 
 far away. But I tell you now, Inez, she will not be 
 harmed ; for he said he would see that she was pro- 
 tected, and would himself take her to a place of 
 safety. He said she had been kind to our people, 
 and none should molest her or her cousin; but leave 
 all to him." 
 
 " If the Padre promised, he will place them in 
 safety; he never forgets to do what he says. I am 
 satisfied, Maffuel; and for the rest of the Americans, 
 the sooner they are driven out the better." 
 
 " You say truly, Inez, the sooner the better: all, 
 all shall go, even their Doctor, that carries him- 
 self with such a lordly air, and sits in saddle as 
 though never man had horse before. But the moon 
 is up; I must return, for I watch to-night, and must 
 be back in time." He put on his hat as he spoke. 
 
 " Mafiuel, come as often as you can, and let me 
 know what is going on. You are the only one whose 
 word I believe; there are so many strange tales 
 nowadays, I put little faith in any. And before you 
 go, put this crucifix about your neck : 'twill save you 
 in time of danger, and think of Inez when you see 
 it." She undid the fastening which held it round 
 her own throat, and pressing it to her lips, laid it in 
 his hand. 
 
 Astonished at a proof of tenderness so unexpected, 
 Mafiuel caught her in his arms, but disengaging her- 
 self, she shook her finger threateningly at him, and 
 pointed to the door. He lighted his cigarrita, and 
 promising to come often, returned to the Alamo. 
 
 Left alone, the Spanish maiden sought her own
 
 98 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 apartment, muttering as she ascended the steps 
 " The Padre protect you, Mary ? Yes, even as the 
 hawk the new chicken. Take you to a place of 
 safety ! even as the eagle bears the young lamb to 
 his eyrie. Yes, Mafiuel, I have bound the handker- 
 chief about your eyes. You think I love you, and 
 trust both Padre and crucifix ! Trust on, I too have 
 been deceived." 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MORE like somnambulism than walking reality was 
 now the life of Florence Hamilton. No duty was 
 unperformed, no exertion spared to conduce to the 
 comfort of the now diminished family circle. No 
 words of repining or regret were uttered no tear 
 dimmed the large dark eyes. She moved and lived 
 as it were mechanically, without the agency of feel- 
 ing or sympathy; yet though she obtruded her grief 
 on none, it was equally true that no gleam of re- 
 turning cheerfulness ever lightened the gloom which 
 enveloped her. A something there was in the hope- 
 less, joyless expression of her beautiful face which 
 made the heart ache ; yet none offered sympathy or 
 strove to console her, for she seemed unapproach- 
 able with the cold, haughty glance of other days. 
 Painfully perceptible was the difference between 
 Christian fortitude and perfect hopelessness gentle,
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 99 
 
 humble resignation and despair. There was no 
 peace in her soul, for her future was shrouded in 
 gloom ; she had no joys in anticipation. The sun of 
 hope had set forever to her vision, and she lived 
 and bore her grief like one who had counted 
 the cost and knew that for a little while longer she 
 must struggle on ; and that oblivion of the past was 
 dispensed only by the angel of death. She acqui- 
 esced in Mary's plan of opening a small school, and 
 unfalteringly performed her allotted tasks as assis- 
 tant teacher. Unexpected success had crowned their 
 efforts, and fifteen pupils daily assembled in the 
 room set apart for the purpose. Mary had feared 
 opposition on the part of the Padre, and was agree- 
 ably surprised at the number of Catholic children 
 committed to her care. 
 
 One morning early in October, having finished her 
 household duties, she repaired to the school-room for 
 the day. Florence was already at her post , though suf- 
 fering from violent nervous headache. Mary seated 
 herself with her back to the door and called one of 
 her classes arithmetic it proved ; and if the spirits 
 of the departed were ever allowed to return in vin- 
 dication of their works, the ghost of Pythagoras would 
 certainly have disturbed the equanimity of the 
 " muchachos," who so obstinately refused the assis- 
 tance and co-operation of his rules and tables. In 
 vain she strove to impress on one that 2 from 8 left 
 6. Like the little girl that Wordsworth met, he 
 persisted M it was seven." Despairing at last, she 
 remanded the class to their seats. Anxious to f acili- 
 Vol. 6 E Evans
 
 100 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 tate the progress of her pupils, Mary spared no pains 
 to make perspicuous what to them appeared ob- 
 scure. The little savages could not or would not 
 understand that the earth was like a ball, and not 
 only turned upon its own axis, but made the entire 
 cirumference of the sun. A pair of globes could not 
 be procured, and she taxed her ingenuity for a sub- 
 stitute; selecting two apples, one enormous, the 
 other medium size, she carefully introduced a reed 
 through the centre of the smaller apple, thus causing 
 it to revolve on its axis. Calling up the tyros in 
 geography, she took the smallest apple, or " Earth," 
 as she designated it, and while causing it to perform 
 the diurnal motion, she carried it slowly round the 
 larger, or " Sun," as she termed it: thus illustrating 
 the combined movements of our globe. Even the 
 dullest could not fail to comprehend; and well satis- 
 fied with the result of her experiment, she carefully 
 put her planets by in one corner of the school- room 
 and proceeded with her questions. The imperfect 
 recitation finished, Mary glanced across the room, 
 hoping her cousin's patience was not so tried, and 
 some brilliant coruscations in that direction fixed her 
 attention. Florence had dropped her aching head 
 on the desk in front, shading her eyes with her 
 hand; before her, in dark array, stood some half 
 dozen small boys just begining to spell. Each held 
 a book containing illustrations of various well-known 
 articles and animals having the name beneath. 
 
 " U-r-n teapot." Elliot Carlton, whose seat was 
 near, gave a suppressed giggle; Florence looked
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. IOI 
 
 around inquiringly, then dropped her head again on 
 her hand, bidding the boy *' spell on." 
 
 " S-t-a-g goat." Elliot Carlton crammed his 
 handkerchief into his mouth and Mary smiled. 
 
 " W-i-g curly head." Florence was effectually 
 roused this time by a shout of laughter from Elliot, 
 in which he was joined by Mary and Dr. Bryant, who 
 had just entered and was standing in such a position 
 that no one had perceived him. 
 
 " Really, Miss Hamilton, I must congratulate you 
 on the extraordinary progress your pupils make ; I 
 was not aware that you cultivated their powers of 
 comparison in connection with the rudiments of or- 
 thoepy." 
 
 " To what do you allude, Doctor; I am scarcely 
 conscious of what passes around me this morning," 
 said Florence, wearily pressing her hand across her 
 aching brow. 
 
 " I am not surprised that you are somewhat 
 stunned, though, after all," he continued, pointing to 
 the picture of a ringleted pate, " the little fellow was 
 not far wrong, for this wig is incontestibly a curly 
 head." 
 
 With a faint smile, which passed as quickly as it 
 came, she dismissed the class with an additional 
 lesson. 
 
 " I am sorry to see you suffering so much this 
 morning," said Frank, seating himself beside her; 
 ** and should certainly not recommend this school- 
 room as an antidote to nervous attacks. Miss Mary, 
 why do you allow your cousin to overtax her strength?
 
 102 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 However, I bring you good news. We have had an 
 engagment at Gonzales, and, thank Heaven, are vic- 
 torious. The brave five hundred sent to preserve 
 the field-piece there, encountered double their num- 
 ber of the enemy, and not only saved the cannon 
 but scattered the Mexicans in all directions. Our 
 brave band are marching to Goliad, where they ex- 
 pect to supply themselves and comrades with am- 
 munition; they have probably taken the magazine 
 before this and are returning." 
 
 *' Thank Heaven we have triumphed !" cried Mary, 
 fervently clasping her hands; "but oh! if the tide 
 should turn this way, what will become of us ? 
 The Mexicans are numerous here, and the Alamo 
 strongly fortified and in their possession." She 
 turned her eyes inquiringly on Frank, and started as 
 she met the earnest, searching expression of his, 
 bent full upon her face. 
 
 " How pale you have grown of late," he murmured 
 as to himself, and replied to her questioning glance 
 " I think, myself, there is much danger incurred 
 by remaining here; but rest assured you shall not be 
 harmed. I am watching the signs of the times, and 
 will warn you should peril approach." 
 
 He took Florence's hand, and pressed it as he 
 spoke ; then turning to Mary, who had walked away, 
 he said : " I must insist on your cousin having rest ; 
 she is weary and too much excited, and you, who 
 are a good nurse, must take better care of her." 
 
 " Indeed, Doctor, I did my best to prevent her
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. IO3 
 
 teaching to-day, but she would not listen to my en- 
 treaties," replied Mary with averted head. 
 
 " If I might venture to advise yourself and cousin, 
 Miss Hamilton, I should suggest the discontinuance 
 of your school, at least for the present ; for in these 
 stormy times one scarce knows what a day may bring 
 forth; and, indeed, your pupils are dropping off 
 within the last few days, and you had better disband 
 voluntarily." 
 
 " I believe you are right, Doctor; and if Mary 
 ooncurs with us, I think we will follow your advice." 
 
 " Do as you think best, Florry ; I suppose we would 
 have no pupils soon, even if we continued our ef- 
 forts ! yet I dislike very much to give up the school 
 so very soon." Her voice faltered slightly and her 
 cheek grew paler. 
 
 " Your reluctance to dismiss these children, I am 
 not surprised at ; and if it will relieve you in the 
 least, allow me to see their parents and arrange all 
 pecuniary matters. You certainly feel no hesitation 
 in confiding this to me." 
 
 " Thank you, Dr. Bryant, you are very kind; but 
 we will not burden you with an additional trouble. 
 I prefer taking these children home to their parents 
 who committed them U my care; and as you and 
 Florry think iv. advisable, we will close our school 
 this evening. Believe me, however, that in refusing 
 your kind oifer, I am not insensible to, but appre- 
 ciate fully, the motives which dictated it." 
 
 " Feel no hesitation in calling on me to perform 
 any of the many services a gentleman friend may so
 
 104 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 often render. If you knew how gladly I would serve 
 you, I am sure you would not fail to do so." 
 
 Shaking hands with Florence who stood near, he 
 turned to go, but paused at the threshold. 
 
 At this moment a slight disturbance in a distant 
 corner of the room attracted their attention, and 
 springing forward, little Maria Carlton exclaimed 
 " Oh, Miss Mary, what do you think? Somebody has 
 eat up the world, and bit a great big piece out of 
 the sun!" 
 
 When the merriment this excited had in some de- 
 gree subsided, Dr. Bryant laughingly said " I am 
 much afraid you have a Polyphemus among your 
 pupils. Miss Mary, do discover the incipient mon- 
 ster, and eject him forthwith. Heavens, what 
 powers of digestion he must possess ! Good-morning, 
 ladies good- morning." And with a bow he left the 
 house. 
 
 " Florry, dear, do try and sleep some ! I will do all 
 that is necessary about the children. True, there is 
 not enough to occupy me long, and meanwhile you 
 must impart the news of this victory to Aunt 
 Lizzy."
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. IOJ 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 -I might not this believe 
 
 Without the sensible and true avouch 
 Of mine own eyes." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 TWILIGHT had fallen slowly, for the evening was 
 heavy and wet, and dark masses of cloud driven by 
 the northern blasts sailed gloomily overhead. Nature 
 wore a dreary aspect, and one involuntarily turned in- 
 ward for amusement. A bright light gleamed from 
 the window of Florence Hamilton's humble home, and 
 her little dining-room seemed by contrast extremely 
 cheerful; yet the hearts of its inmates were more in 
 accordance with the gloom which reigned without. 
 Aunt Lizzy, growing somewhat infirm of late, had 
 retired earlier than usual. Florence had been sew- 
 ing all the afternoon, but now lay with closed eyes 
 on the couch, her hands clasped over her head. 
 Mary sat near the table holding an open volume, but 
 her thoughts had evidently wandered far away ! for 
 her gaze was fixed abstractedly on the fire which 
 blazed and crackled at her feet. The girl's counte- 
 nance was an interesting study as she sat wrapped 
 in her saddened thoughts. A care-worn expression 
 rested upon her face, as though some weighty re- 
 sponsibility too soon had fallen on one so frail. The 
 cheeks were very pale, and now and then across the 
 lips there came a quiver, as though she struggled
 
 106 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 inwardly, and fain would give no outward show of 
 grief. In truth, an almost spirituarexpression had 
 come over her features; the impress of some deep 
 and hidden sorrow, nobly borne, though chasing the 
 rosy hue from her cheeks. Sadder grew the look, 
 and some acute pain wrinkled her brow as she threw 
 aside the book and covered her face with her hands; 
 while a heavy yet smothered sigh struggled forth, as 
 if striving to relieve the aching heart. 
 
 The door opened noiselessly, and a dark shrouded 
 form glided with soft steps to the chair, and laid a 
 heavy hand on her shoulder. Mary raised her head 
 and starting up, gazed inquiringly at the muffled 
 face, while the intruder pointed to the motionless 
 form of Florence, and laid a finger on her lip. Then 
 beckoning Mary to follow, she receded with stealthy 
 tread to the door which was softly closed, and walked 
 hurriedly on till she reached a large rose-tree which 
 shaded the window. Mary shivered as the piercing 
 wind swept over her, and strove in vain to suppress 
 a fit of coughing. There was a moment's silence. 
 
 " You did not know me ?" 
 
 Mary started. " I did not, till you spoke; but, 
 Inez, what brings you out on such a night?" 
 
 Inez took off the mantilla which had so effectually 
 concealed her features and threw it round the frail, 
 drooping form before her. 
 
 " No, no, Inez, you will take cold;" and Mary ten- 
 dered it back. 
 
 It was tossed off contemptuously, and mingled 
 with a bitter laugh came the reply " I am not cold,
 
 INEZ : A TALE OF THE ALAMO. TO/ 
 
 Marifiita, nor ever shall be but once again. I am 
 burning with an inward fire that will not be 
 quenched." 
 
 " You are ill, Inez, and want some medicine; tell 
 me where and how you suffer." 
 
 " No, no. I want nothing from you or yours: I 
 come to help, not to ask. Mary, why is it you have 
 made me love you so, when I hate yonder dark-eyed 
 girl ? But I am losing time. I come to warn you of 
 danger, and even now I am watched ; but no matter, 
 listen to what I have to say. The Padre hates you, 
 even as as I hate him, and has sworn your ruin. I 
 tell you now you must fly from San Antonio, and 
 fly quickly, for danger is at hand. My countrymen 
 are many here, and he is stronger than all. You 
 and I have thwarted him, and the walls of a far off 
 convent are our destination you, and your cousin, 
 and myself. I am at heart no Catholic ; I have seen 
 the devil, if there be one, in my confessor. I have 
 heard him lie, and seen him take the widow's and 
 the orphan's portion. Mary, if there was a God, 
 would he suffer such as my Padre to minister in his 
 holy place, and touch the consecrated vessels ? No, 
 no; there is none, or he would be cut off from the 
 face of the earth.'* 
 
 " Inez ! Inez ! stop and hear me." 
 
 " No, no ! time waits for none, and I have little 
 more to say. Mary, you are deceived; your cousin 
 is not what you think. She is a Catholic ; for mine 
 own eyes have seen her in the confessional, and my 
 own ears have listened to her aves and paters."
 
 108 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 Mary uttered a deep groan, and clasped Inez's 
 arm murmuring " You are you must be delirious 
 or mad : Florry deceive me ! impossible !" 
 
 "Ah! poor deluded Mary: do you trust any on 
 earth ? Yet I would trust you, with your white face 
 and soft blue eyes; and there is one other I would 
 trust but no more. You will not believe that Flor- 
 ence has turned from the faith of her fathers ? Go 
 to her as she sleeps yonder, and feel with your own 
 hand the crucifix around her neck. Ha ! you hold 
 tight to my arm: I tell you your Cousin Florence is 
 as black-hearted as the Padre, for he told me she 
 had promised her dying father to follow his advice 
 in all things, yet she tells you not of this : and again, 
 has she not won the love of a good, a noble man, 
 and does she not scorn his love ; else why is his cheek 
 pale, and his proud step slow ? Marifiita, I have 
 read you long ago. You love your Doctor, but 
 he loves that Florence, whose heart is black and 
 cold as this night. You are moaning in your agony; 
 but all must suffer. I have suffered more than you; 
 I shall always suffer,, My stream of bitterness is 
 inexhaustible^ daily I am forced to quaff the black, 
 burning waters. Ha ! I know my lot I swallow and 
 murmur not. Mary, I am sorry to make you drink 
 so much that is bitter to-night; but you must, for 
 your own good; better a friend should hold the cup 
 and let you taste, than have it rudely forced upon 
 you." 
 
 " Why have you told me this, Inez ? I never did 
 you harm, nor gave you pain."
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 109 
 
 " Poor pale face ! I want to save you from worse 
 than death yea, from a living death. Go from this 
 place : for if you are here a month hence, you will be 
 lost. Your people here will be defeated, and then 
 the Mexicans will hand you all over to the Padre, 
 who says he means to put you where you will be 
 protected. Mark me: you wiH be sent where no 
 cry for succor will ever be heard. You will be 
 imprisoned for life, where none can come back to 
 tell the tale. Mary, go to your friends in the States; 
 or if you can not get there, go where your people 
 are many, and take your Doctor with you, for blood 
 will yet run down these streets, and I would not that 
 his swelled the stream. He has promised to watch 
 over you ; tell him to take you from here from this 
 cursed place. I have crept from home this dark 
 night to tell you of your danger; I am watched, for 
 the Padre suspects me, but you were always good; 
 you nursed me and my dying mother, and were kind 
 to Manuel, and I would risk more than I have to 
 help you. I have done all I can; I charge you, wait 
 not till the last moment." 
 
 Inez stretched out her hand for her mantilla, which 
 she folded closely about her face, and then clasped 
 Mary's hand in hers. 
 
 " Inez! oh, Inez!" 
 
 " Well, Marifiita, I may not linger here. I will 
 see you again if I can; but if we meet no more, for. 
 get not Inez de Garcia, or the love she bears you ; 
 and as the greatest blessing now for you, I hope you 
 may soon find peace in the quiet grave. I shall
 
 i io INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 never find rest till I sleep that last, unbroken 
 sleep!" : 
 
 " Inez, my heart is wrung by what I have heard 
 to-night; but I beg of yon, as a last favor, do not, 
 oh, do not turn away from God! Inez, there is a 
 God ; and death is not an everlasting sleep. Here- 
 after is an awful tribunal; and if not again on earth, 
 you and I shall assuredly meet before God. Oh! 
 believe that he will yet bless you : that he will enable 
 you to bear all earthly trials; and, if faithful, he will 
 receive you at last into the kingdom of eternal rest. 
 Try to forget the past, and in this book you will find 
 the path of duty so clearly marked out, that you can 
 not mistake it. 'Tis all I have about me, yet I pray 
 God it may be the greatest treasure you possess." 
 
 She drew a small Bible from her pocket as she 
 spoke, and pressed it within Inez's fingers, adding 
 " I can not sufficiently thank you for your kind- 
 ness in warning me of my danger ; I shall leave this 
 place as soon as possible, and shall constantly pray 
 that you may be spared and blessed." 
 
 She held out her hands. Inez clasped them tightly 
 for a moment, and then glided down the walk as 
 noiselessly as she came.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. Ill 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " Be sure that you teach nothing to the people but what is 
 certainly to be found in Scripture." 
 
 Bishop Taylor. 
 
 MARY IRVING sough f her chamber, and sinking on 
 her knees, fervently implored the blessing and guid- 
 ance of Him who is very precious help in time of 
 need. She prayed for strength to meet with Chris- 
 tian fortitude the trials which awaited her, and in all 
 the vicissitudes of her checkered life to pursue un- 
 falteringly the path of duty. She strove to collect 
 her scattered thoughts, and with what composure 
 she could assume, returned to the dining-room. The 
 fire was burning low on the hearth, and the single 
 candle gave but a faint, unsteady light. Florence 
 was slowly pacing up and down the floor; she raised 
 her head as Mary entered, then sunk it wearily on 
 her bosom and resumed her walk. 
 
 " Florry, come sit here by me I want to consult 
 you." 
 
 " Is it very important, Mary ? I feel to-night as 
 though I could comprehend nothing; let me wear off 
 this dull pain in my heart and head by walking, if 
 possible." 
 
 " My dear Florry, it is important; and therefore 
 you will forgive me if I claim your attention." 
 
 Florence seated herself, and as she did so, leaned 
 her head on Mary's shoulder, while the latter wound
 
 112 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 her arm fondly about her, and gently stroked back 
 the raven hair from her aching brow. 
 
 " Since we broke up our school, I have been 
 warned that we are in danger, and advised to leave 
 San Antonio as speedily as possible; for strife is 
 evidently at hand, and a battle-ground is no place 
 for those so unprotected as you and I." 
 
 " Dr. Bryant has promised to watch over us ; and 
 surely you have implicit confidence in both his judg- 
 ment and honor. What do you fear, Mary ?" 
 
 " Every thing. We may remain here too long 
 till escape will be impossible ; and then who may pre- 
 dict with any degree of certainty the chances of war ? 
 That Dr. Bryant will do all that a friend or brother 
 would, I doubt not ; but he may be powerless to help 
 when danger assails; and even if he should not, to 
 travel from here in stormy times would not be so easy 
 as you imagine." 
 
 " Who has been filling your head with such ideas ? 
 It could be none other than that dark-browed Inez." 
 
 " If she has, could aught but disinterested friend- 
 ship actuate her to such a course ?" 
 
 " Really, Mary, I should not have given you credit 
 for so much credulity. Do you place any confidence 
 in what that girl may tell you ?" 
 
 " I do rely on what she confides to me. Has she 
 ever given you cause to doubt her sincerity ? In- 
 deed, Florry, you do her injustice. I would willingly 
 God only knows how willingly doubt some por- 
 tions of what I have heard from her lips, but I dare 
 not."
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. IIJ 
 
 " Mary, can yon not perceive that she is jealous of 
 us and hopes by operating on your fears, to drive us 
 from this place ? The Padre hinted as much to me 
 not long since." 
 
 " Florry, it is for you to say whether Inez speaks 
 truth. From her lips I had the words Your cousin 
 Florence is a Papist, wears a crucifix about her neck, 
 and kneels in the confessional. Oh, Florry ! will you 
 can you do you deny the charge ?" 
 
 The cousins stood up, and each gazed full upon 
 the other.. Mary's face was colorless as marble, and 
 her hands were tightly clasped as she bent forward 
 with a longing, searching, eager look. A crimson 
 glow rushed to Florence's very temples; then re- 
 ceded, leaving an ashy paleness. 
 
 " I am a member of the Church of Rome." 
 
 Mary groaned and sank back into her chair, at 
 this confirmation of her fears. Florence leaned 
 against the chimney and continued in a low, but 
 clear voice " I have little to say in defense of what 
 you may consider a deception. I deny the right of 
 any on earth to question my motives or actions; yet 
 I would not that you, Mary, who hav.e loved me so 
 long and truly, should be alienated without hearing 
 the reasons which I have to allege in favor of my 
 conduct. Mary, think well when I ask you 'what 
 prospect of happiness there was for me a month 
 since ? Alone in the wide world, with ruined hopes 
 and a long, long, joyless future stretching gloomily 
 before me. I was weary of life. I longed for 
 death, not as a passport to the joys of heaven (for
 
 114 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 I had never sought or deserved them), but as bring- 
 ing rest, peace, and oblivion of the past. I viewed 
 it only as a long, last, dreamless sleep. Mary, I was 
 groping my way in what seemed endless night, when 
 suddenly there came a glimmer of light, faint as the 
 first trembling rays of the evening star, and just 
 pierced the darkness in which I wandered. The 
 Padre came to me, and pointed to the long-forgotten 
 God, and bade me seek him who hath said, ' Come 
 unto me all ye who are weary, and I will give you 
 rest. 1 Mary, do you wonder that I clasped the hand 
 outstretched to save me, and besought him to lead 
 me to the outraged and insulted God ? My eyes were 
 opened, and looking down the long, dark vi"ta of the 
 past, I saw how, worshiping a creature, I built a 
 great barrier between myself and heaven. I saw 
 my danger, and resolved, ere it was too late, to dedi- 
 cate the remainder of my life to him who gave it. 
 The door of the church was opened, and Father 
 Mazzolin pointed out the way by which I might be 
 saved. The paths seem flowery, and he tells me the 
 ways are those of pleasantness and peace, and I have 
 resolved to try them. Once, and once only, I met 
 him at confession, hoping, by unvailing my suffer- 
 ings to a man of God, to receive comfort of a 
 higher order than I might otherwise expect. He 
 has granted me absolution for the past, and I doubt 
 not that in future the intercession of the blessed 
 saints in heaven will avail with my offended 
 Maker." 
 " Florry, my own dear Florry! hear me, for none
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 1 15 
 
 on earth loves you as I do. Do you not believe the 
 Bible God's written word ? Has he not said, ' there 
 is one mediator between God and man the man 
 Christ Jesus ?' Has not Christ made propitiation for 
 our sin, and assured us there is but one way where- 
 by we may be saved, repentance for our past sins 
 and faith in the sufficiency of his atonement ? Do 
 you doubt the efficacy of Christ's suffering and death ? 
 Tell me, Florry, by what authority you invoke your 
 saints ? Surely you do so in opposition to the ex- 
 press declaration of the Bible already quoted ' there 
 is one mediator between God and man.' " 
 
 " The holy Fathers of our church have been in the 
 habit of praying for the intercession of saints from 
 the earliest periods, and none have questioned their 
 fervent piety, or doubted the orthodoxy of their 
 faith," replied Florence. 
 
 " In the first place," said Mary, " it would be ri- 
 diculous in the extreme to advocate all the opinions 
 and tenets advanced by those same Fathers. St. 
 Augustine doubted the existence of the antipodes; 
 Tertullian emphatically pronounced second mar- 
 riages adultery; Origen denied the sin of David in 
 causing the death of Uriah, and has often been ac- 
 cused of favoring Arianism, and the doctrine of 
 transmigration of soul ; while it is a well-known fact 
 that Jerome, to vindicate Peter from the charge of 
 dissimulation, actually accused St. Paul of lying, and 
 thereby favoring deceit. In the second place, are 
 you quite sure that they were in the habit of invok- 
 ing saints ?"
 
 Il6 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " Certainly, Mary; for it is undeniable that St. 
 Augustine in his Meditations calls on the blessed 
 Virgin, and all the angels and apostles in heaven to 
 intercede with God in his behalf. Father Mazzolin 
 pointed out the passage no later than last week to 
 remove the doubts which I confess I entertained, as 
 to whether it was proper and in accordance with the 
 practice of the Fathers to implore such intercession." 
 
 " And does your conviction rest on so frail a basis ? 
 Here what the Rev. Dr. Milner says on this subject 
 in the first volume of his Ecclesiastical History;" and 
 taking it from the shelf, Mary read: 
 
 " ' The book of Meditations, though more known 
 to English readers than any other of the works 
 ascribed to Augustine, on account of the translation 
 of it into our language by Stanhope, seems not to be 
 his, both on account of its style, which is sententious, 
 concise, abrupt, and void of any of those classical 
 elegancies which now and then appear in our author's 
 genuine writings ; and also, on account of the prayers 
 to deceased saints which it contains. This last cir- 
 cumstance peculiarly marks it to have been of a later 
 date than the age of Augustine. Frauds of this kind 
 were commonly practiced on the works of the Fath- 
 ers in the monastic times.' 
 
 " And why, Florry, does it peculiarly mark it as 
 spurious ? Because, had he entertained these views 
 on so vital a point, the expression of them would 
 most certainly have occurred in his other very vol- 
 uminous works. I have searched his Confessions 
 for instances of this invocation, either from himself
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 4 
 
 or anxious mother, and had he believed as the Catho- 
 lic prelates assert, in this intercession of the dead, it 
 would most assuredly have been sought in the hour 
 of his suffering and fear, lest he should be given over. 
 But I find none. On the contrary, these two pas- 
 sages occur in his Confessions: ' I now sought the 
 way of obtaining strength to enjoy thee, and found 
 it not, till I embraced the mediator between God and 
 man, Jesus Christ, who is above all, God, blessed for 
 ever, calling and saying, I am the way, the truth, and 
 the life.' And here, Florry, is another extract from 
 the same book still more conclusive ' Whom shall I 
 look to as my mediator ? Shall I go to angels ? 
 Many have tried this, and have been fond of visions, 
 and have deserved to be the sport of the illusions 
 which they loved. The true mediator, whom in thy 
 secret mercy thou hast shown to the humble, and 
 hast sent, that by his example they might also learn 
 humility, the man Christ Jesus, hath appeared a 
 mediator between mortal sinners and the immortal 
 Holy One, that he might justify the ungodl/, and de- 
 liver them from death.' Yet in your manuals you 
 are directed to say, ' Mother of God, command thy 
 son;' and one of your prayers, Florry, is as follows: 
 4 Hail, Holy Queen ! Mother of Mercy our life, our 
 sweetness, and our hope ! To thee do we cry, poor 
 banished sons of Eve, to thee do we send up our 
 sighs, mourning and weeping in the valley of tears. 
 Turn thee, most gracious Advocate, thy eyes of 
 mercy toward us.' And at vespers you say,
 
 Il8 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 ' Hail, Mary ! queen of heavenly spheres, 
 Hail ! whom the angelic host reveres !' 
 
 Florry, in all candor, let us investigate this subject; 
 we will consult both the Bible and the Fathers, or, if 
 you prefer it, by the words of the latter only we will 
 decide; for truth we are searching." 
 
 " Mary, let me read a second time those passages 
 from St. Augustine. Strange I should have been so 
 deceived," she continued, as having perused them, 
 she returned the book to her cousin. 
 
 " Florry, can you perceive any encouragement 
 there given to the practice of invocation ? Does not 
 St. Augustine expressly denounce it ?" 
 
 " There can be no doubt of his sentiments on this 
 point ; but Mary, this is only one decision, when I 
 have been assured that the united voices of many 
 Fathers established it without a doubt, even suppos- 
 ing there was no authority in Holy writ for such a 
 custom which, however, we have, for did not Jacob 
 wrestle with an angel, and did not his blessing de- 
 send upon him ?" 
 
 " But Christ had not then died ; neither had the 
 Christian dispensation succeeded to the old Jewish 
 rites and customs. If you will turn to Jeremiah, you 
 will also read how the curse of God was pronounced 
 against the idolaters who offered incense to the Queen 
 of Heaven : yet you do the same. Still, by the tra- 
 dition of the elders, we will judge. Hear the words 
 of Paulinus on this subject ' Paul is not a mediator; 
 he is an embassador for Christ. John intercedes not, 
 but declares that this mediator Is the propitiation for
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 119 
 
 our sin. The Son of Almighty God, because he re- 
 deemed us with the price of his blood, is justly called 
 the true Redeemer.' Again the great and good Am- 
 brose ' We follow thee, Lord Jesus, but draw us up 
 that we may follow. No one rises without thee. 
 Let us seek him, and embrace his feet, and worship 
 him, that he may say to us, Fear not. I am the re- 
 mission of sin. I am the light, I am the life. He 
 that cometh to me shall not see death ; because he is 
 the fullness of divinity.' One more, Florry * Come 
 to yourselves again, ye wretched transgressors ! Re- 
 turn ye blind to your light !' Shall we not believe 
 God, when he swears that neither Noah, nor Daniel, 
 nor Job, shall deliver one son or daughter by their 
 righteousness. For this end he makes the declara- 
 tion, that none might put confidence in the interces- 
 sion of saints. Ye fools ! who run to Rome to seek 
 there for the intercession of an Apostle. When will 
 ye be wise ? What would St. Augustine say of you, 
 whom ye have so often quoted ? Such, Florry, are 
 the words of the celebrated Claud of Turin; but as 
 he is regarded by your church somewhat as a re- 
 former, I will just read one passage from Anselm^ 
 whose orthodoxy no Papist ever questioned. Speak- 
 ing of the intercession of Christ ' If the people sin 
 a thousand times, they need no other Saviour; be- 
 cause this suffices for all things, and cleanses from 
 all sin.' Florry, we have jointly admired the char- 
 acter of one of the earliest martyrs, St. Cyprian. 
 Will you hear him on this subject ? ' Christ, if it be 
 possible, let us all follow. Let us be baptized la hie
 
 110 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 name. He opens to us the way of life. He bring 
 us back to Paradise. He leads us to the heavenly 
 kingdom. Redeemed by his blood, we shall be the 
 blessed of God the Father.' Yet you say in your 
 prayers, ' We fly to thy patronage, oh ! holy Mother 
 of God !' And again 
 
 1 Hail, sacred gate. ' 
 
 Florence, you have cited the Fathers: by their own 
 words are you not convinced as to intercession ?" 
 
 " Mary, I was asking myself if vital Christianity 
 could exist in any church which allows such a system 
 of deceit on the part of its clergy ? for deceived I 
 assuredly have been." 
 
 * 4 You should remember, Florry, that the promul- 
 gation of Papal doctrines, and the aggrandizement 
 of the Romish church, is the only aim of its priest- 
 hood; consequently, all means which conduce to 
 this great object are unscrupulously employed. 
 Even crime is sanctioned where the good of the 
 church can be promoted." 
 
 " Surely, Mary, you can not mean what you say ? 
 Crime sanctioned by the Romish clergy! Impos- 
 sible! How dare you make such an assertion ?" 
 
 " It doubtless strikes you, Florry, as strangely 
 uncharitable and unchristian; yet, if you will con- 
 sult the records of the past, I venture to say you 
 will think very differently. What memorable event 
 occurred on one of your saints' days the 24th of 
 August, 1572? At dead of night the signal was given, 
 and the Papal ministers of France perpetrated the
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 121 
 
 foulest deed that stains the page of history. Thirty 
 thousand Huguenots were butchered in their beds. 
 And what distinguished the murderer from the 
 doomed victim ? A white cross on the hat of the 
 former. How did Imperial Rome receive the tidings 
 of this massacre ? "The cannons were discharged, 
 the Pope ordered a jubilee and grand procession, 
 and caused a Te Deum to be chanted. I ask yon 
 Florry, was not this sanctioning crime ? Again, how 
 died the great Henry IV ? The celebrated edict of 
 Nantes sealed his doom, and the infamous Ravaillac, 
 for the good of the Romish church, conveniently 
 forgot the commandment of Jehovah, and merito- 
 riously assassinated him. Florry, I have myself jheard 
 a Papist say, ' that whatever her priest commanded, 
 she would unhesitatingly perform.' Shocked at the 
 broad assertion, I replied : ' You surely do not know 
 what you are saying. Obey the priest in all things! 
 Why, you would not commit murder at his command?' 
 4 Certainly I would, if my priest bid me; for if I obey 
 him, I can not do wrong.' I know this to be true; 
 and I ask you what is the inference ? You admit 
 that you have been deceived. Pious frauds were 
 committed in the time of Ambrose and Chrysostom; 
 yet hear what St. Augustine says: ' Lying is the 
 saying of one thing, and thinking of another;' and in 
 all cases, even for most pious purposes, he excludes 
 lying as unchristian and anti-scriptural." 
 
 Florence was leaning with clasped hands on the 
 table, gazing intently at her cousin; while Mary 
 knelt on the other side, her hand resting on the large
 
 122 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 family Bible. The light fell full on her pale face as 
 she knelt ; her chestnnt curls half vailing the pure 
 white cheek, and the dark- blue eyes, earnest, and yet 
 almost angelic, in their gentle, loving expression. 
 
 " Oh, Florry ! need I implore you in future to look 
 to Christ alone as the author of our salvation ?" 
 
 " One more question, Mary. Is there not a pas- 
 sage in Revelations substantiating the doctrine of 
 intercession ? Father Mazzolin assured me the tes- 
 timony was conclusive in favor of that practice." 
 
 " The passages to which you allude are these: 
 1 And another angel came and stood at the altar, 
 having a golden censor ; and there was given unto 
 him much incense, that he should offer it, with the 
 prayers of all saints, upon the golden altar which 
 was before the throne. Aud the smoke of the in- 
 cense which came with the prayers of the saints 
 ascended up before God out of the angel's hand.' 
 No word of intercession occurs here; and are we not 
 as free to suppose that the prayers so offered were 
 in their own behalf as that of their friends ? Had it 
 been as the Padre tells you, would not St. John have 
 said intercession or prayers in behalf of others ?" 
 
 " Mary, can you have mistaken the passage ? This 
 cannot be his boasted testimony." 
 
 " I know that these two verses are highly prized 
 by Papists, as establishing the doctrine in question; 
 yet I cannot see them in that light can you ?" 
 
 " No, no; and if these are the strongest arguments 
 they can adduce in the defense of invocation, I re-
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 123 
 
 ject it as a remnant of the dark ages, during which 
 period it certainly crept into the church." 
 
 " If you do this, Florry, you cause the whole fabric 
 to totter, for on this doctrine, as a foundation, rests 
 the arch, of which confession is the keystone." 
 
 44 4 Confess ye your sins, one to another,' is very 
 strong in our favor, Mary ?" 
 
 44 Florry, we are searching for truth, and let us in 
 all humility and candor investigate this particularly 
 important point. It seems to me that St. James's 
 meaning is this when we have offended or harmed 
 our fellow- men or brethren, we should make all 
 the amends in our power; confess our faults unto 
 them ; implore their pardon, and abstain from offen- 
 sive conduct in future. Do you not think that if he 
 intended us to interpret it differently, he would have 
 said ' Confess your faults unto your priest, and he 
 will give you absolution.' Setting aside all bias, do 
 you not think this reasonable; the more so, when we 
 call to mind those words of our Saviour in his ser- 
 mon on the mount : ' Therefore, if thou bring thy 
 gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy 
 brother hath aught against thee, leave there thy gift 
 before the altar, and go thy way; first be reconciled 
 to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift.' 
 If our Lord had intended the ordinance of confes- 
 sion, would he not have said on this occasion. 4 First 
 confess thy sins unto thy priest, and when he has 
 absolved thee, then come with clean hands and offer 
 thy gift.' Mark the difference, and ask your own 
 
 Vol. 6 F Evans
 
 124 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 heart if there is any encouragement here for confes- 
 sing to your Padre ?" 
 
 " If this passage of James were all we could adduce 
 in favor of confession, I should think with you, Mary; 
 yet it is not so. When about to dismiss his Apostles 
 on their errands of mercy, Christ said to them 
 ' Peace be with you ; as my Father hath sent me, 
 even so I send you :' and when he had breathed upon 
 them, he said unto them ' Receive ye the Holy 
 Ghost; whosesoever sins ye remit, they are remitted 
 unto them, and whosesoever sins ye retain, they are 
 retained.' Now Mary, do you not plainly perceive 
 that the power of forgiving sin was conferred upon 
 the Apostles ?" 
 
 " Most assuredly I do; and avow my belief that 
 they were enabled to forgive sin, and at the same 
 time other miraculous powers were conferred on the 
 ' Twelve.' ' Then he called his twelve disciples 
 together, and gave them power and authority over 
 all devils, and to cure diseases.' We know that they 
 cast out devils, restored the blind, and raised the 
 dead. Power to forgive sin was one among many 
 wonderful gifts conferred upon them. Yet you do 
 not believe that the power of raising the dead was 
 transmitted to posterity. How, then, can you say 
 the gift of absolution was ?" 
 
 " But, Mary, Christ says in another place * Thou 
 art Peter: and upon this rock I will build my church, 
 and the gates of Hell shall not prevail against it. 
 And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom 
 of heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. HJ 
 
 shall be bound in heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt 
 loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.' " 
 
 " I perfectly agree with you, Florry, in believing 
 that St. Peter had miraculous powers bestowed on 
 him by our Saviour; but it seems absurd to suppose 
 that those powers were perpetuated in the ministers 
 of the Roman Catholic Church. Our Saviour said, 
 what ' Peter loosed, should be loosed in heaven,' and 
 not what Peter's successors loosed should be observed 
 and loosed in heaven. We should not judge of 
 Christ's views by isolated passages, but rather from 
 all his teachings; for if we did, what would you say 
 to the verse just below those already quoted, * And 
 he said unto Peter, get thee behind me Satan, thon 
 art an offense unto me, for thou savorest not the 
 things which be of God, but those that be of men.' 
 But this is wandering from the subject. In St 
 Augustine's Confessions, though I admit somewhat 
 abridged, I find nothing relating to confessing to 
 priests. This passage alone appears: ' O Lord, 
 thou knowest! have I not confessed my sins to 
 thee ? and hast thou not pardoned the iniquity of my 
 heart ?' Speaking of a sudden illness during his boy- 
 hood, he says he eagerly desired baptism, fearing to 
 die, and his mother was about to comply with his 
 request, when he quickly recovered. Now had he 
 considered confession necessary, would he not have 
 urged it upon all who read his Confessions, which 
 you will mark, Florry, were not made to a priest, 
 but obviously to God himself."
 
 126 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 There followed a long pause, while Florence dropt 
 her face in her hands, and sighed heavily. 
 
 " Florry, it is very late; our candle has burnt low 
 see, it is flickering in the socket; we have not 
 heeded the lapse of time." She rose and replaced 
 the books she had been consulting. 
 
 " Mary, Mary ! why have you shaken my faith ? I 
 had thought to find comfort in future, but you have 
 torn my hope from me, and peace flies with the 
 foundations which you have removed!" 
 
 " Florry, you have been blinded, deceived. They 
 have cried unto you, Peace ! peace ! when there was 
 no peace. But oh! there is a source of rest and 
 strength, and comfort, which is to be attained not by 
 confession, or the intercession of the dead or living, 
 but by repentance for the past, and an active, trust- 
 ing faith in the meditation of our blessed Lord Jesus 
 Christ." 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 "The purple clouds 
 Are putting on their gold and violet, 
 To look the meeter for the sun's bright coming. 
 How hallowed is the hour of morning ! Meet 
 Ay! beautifully meet for the pure prayer." 
 
 Willis. 
 
 MORN broke in the East ; or, in the beautiful lan- 
 guage of the Son of Fingal, " Sol's yellow hair 
 streamed on the Eastern gale." Awakened by the
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. I2/ 
 
 first chirping of the feathered tribe, Florence rse as 
 the gray morning light stole into her chamber, and 
 seating herself at the window, looked ont on the 
 town before her. Quiet reigned as yet, broken only 
 by the nrarmnring and gargling of the river, which 
 rolled swiftly on, just below their little gate. How 
 delightful to her seemed 
 
 " The cool, the fragrant, and the silent hour 
 To meditation due." 
 
 Calmly she now weighed the conversation of the pre- 
 ceding night, and engrossed in earnest thought, sat 
 gazing out till the Orient shone resplendent, and an 
 October sun poured his rays gloriously around her. 
 Then she knelt, and prayed as she had never done 
 before. She sought the " pure fountain of light," 
 and implored strength and guidance in her search 
 after truth. Rising, her glance fell on her sleeping 
 cousin, and she was struck with the change which 
 within the last month had taken place in her appear- 
 ance. Approaching the bed, she lifted the masses 
 of chestnut hair that clung to the damp brow. As 
 she looked on the pure, pale face, there came a gush 
 of tenderness into her soul, and bending, she im- 
 printed a long, warm kiss. Mary stirred, and opened 
 her eyes. 
 
 " Ah, Florry, you are up earlier than usual." She 
 dosed them again, murmuring slowly, " I feel as 
 though I had no strength remaining; I can scarcely 
 lift my head."
 
 128 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " Sleep, Mary, if you can. I will shut out the 
 light, and call you again after a wh : le." 
 
 " No, Florry, I must not give way to such feefings; 
 indeed they are getting quite too common of late ; I 
 can't think what makes me so weak and feverish." 
 
 An hour later, as they stood together at the door 
 of their little dining-room, a body of Mexican cavalry 
 dashed furiously past their gate. The cousins looked 
 full at each other. Then Florence said in a low, 
 calm tone: " You are right, Mary; we will go from 
 this place; I feel now that it is for the best." She 
 averted her face; but Mary saw an expression of 
 keen agony resting there. " Florry, let us consult 
 Mrs. Carlton. She will advise us what would be 
 best to do in this emergency." 
 
 " Go and see her yourself; I can not. Whatever 
 you decide upon I will agree to. Oh ! Mary, how 
 desolate and unprotected we are." 
 
 " No, not while there is an Almighty One to watch 
 over us. But, Florry, I am much troubled about 
 Aunt Lizzy. I mentioned our wish to leave here, and 
 she opposed it strenuously, on the grounds that the 
 Padre had promised his protection. Now what are 
 we to do ?" 
 
 " Go to Mrs. Carlton's, Mary, and I will convince 
 aunt that it is best we should remove from here 
 immediately. You need apprehend no difficulty on 
 her part. As you return from Mrs. Carlton's, meet 
 me in the church-yard." 
 
 " Florry, do not go till I come home; or, if you 
 prefer it, let us go there at once."
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 129 
 
 " No, Mary, I wish to be there alone." 
 
 " But I am afraid it is not quite safe for you to 
 venture out so far from home." 
 
 " I fear nothing: who would harm a daughter 
 beside her father's grave ?" 
 
 Mary sighed heavily, but offered no further 
 opposition. Her walk to Mrs. Carlton's was a sad 
 one, for her heart clung to the scenes she had 
 learned to love so well, and the prospect of departure, 
 and the uncertainty of the futufe, weighed heavily 
 on her heart, and made her step unwontedly slow. 
 She found her friend alone, and much depressed. 
 Mrs. Carlton clasped her tenderly in her arms, while 
 the tears rolled silently down her cheeks. 
 
 " I hope nothing has happened to distress you ?" 
 said Mary, anxiously. 
 
 " You are the very one I wished to see. Mr. Carl- 
 ton said, this morning, that he was unwilling for me 
 to remain here any longer, as our troops are march- 
 ing to attack the Alamo. He says he will take us to 
 Washington, and I could not bear the idea of leav- 
 ing you here." 
 
 " I have come to consult you on this subject ; for 
 some of my Mexican friends have advised us to 
 leave San Antonio ; and not knowing where or how 
 to go, concluded to come and see you. But Wash- 
 ington is far, very far from here. How will we ever 
 reach it in these unsettled times ?" 
 
 " Mr. Carlton and Frank have gone to make all 
 necessary preparation for our immediate departure. 
 We will have two tents, and carry such cooking
 
 I3O INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 utensils and provisions as are needful for a tedious 
 journey: one wagon is all we hope to obtain for con- 
 veying these. I suppose we shall all ride horse- 
 back; for you know there is not a carriage in the 
 town. Frank does not wish us to leave this place, 
 for he suggested your coming to remain with us till 
 these stormy times were over. But this is not a 
 suitable home for you. Surely your cousin and aunt 
 will consent to accompany us ?" 
 
 " Yes, I think so; for Florry left it entirely with 
 me, and certainly we should go now." 
 
 " I am very glad to hear you say so, Mary; not 
 only upon your own account, but also for Frank. 
 He will consider himself bound to accompany you ; 
 for he promised your dying uncle to watch over you 
 both with a brother's care, and otherwise he could 
 not be induced to leave San Antonio at this crisis. 
 He seems completely rapt in the issue of the con- 
 test ; and would you believe it, Mary, he is anxious 
 to enlist; but my entreaties have as yet prevented 
 him." 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Carlton, there is no obligation resting 
 on him to go with us. He has been very kind and 
 careful, and though deeply grateful, we could not 
 consent to his leaving against his own inclinations. 
 Oh, no! we could not allow this. Yet should he re- 
 main, what may be the result ? Oh ! Mrs. Carlton, 
 this is terrible." 
 
 Mary's cheek was very pale, and her lips quivered 
 convulsively, while the small hands clasped each 
 ether tightly.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 13! 
 
 " Mary, for my sake, use your influence with him 
 in favor of going to Washington. I can't go in 
 peace, and feel that he is here exposed to such 
 imminent danger, for when I am gone, what will 
 restrain him ? Mary, Mary! do not deter him, if he 
 feels it incumbent on him to see you to a place of 
 safety." 
 
 " Mrs. Carlton, you can appreciate the peculiar 
 position in which I am placed. Florry and I would 
 shrink from drawing him away, in opposition to his 
 wishes, particularly when there is no danger attend- 
 ant on our traveling ; for with you and Mr. Carlton 
 we would feel no apprehension ; and even if we did, 
 we could not consent to such a sacrifice on his part. 
 Yet I sympathize with you, most sincerely, and will 
 willingly do all that in propriety I can to alleviate 
 your sorrow ; but knowing his sentiments, how could 
 I advise, or even acquiesce in his going ?" 
 
 " My pure-hearted girl, forgive a request made so 
 thoughtlessly. I had not considered, as I should 
 have done ; yet you can appreciate the anxious feel- 
 ings which dictated it." As she spoke, Mrs. Carlton 
 clasped her friend to her heart, and wept on her 
 shoulder. No tear dimmed Mary's eye; yet that she 
 suffered, none who looked on her pale brow and 
 writhing lips could doubt. As she raised her head 
 to reply, Dr. Bryant entered, and started visibly on 
 seeing her. Mrs. Carlton endeavored to regain her 
 composure : and with a slightly faltering voice, asked 
 how he succeeded in procuring horses ? 
 
 " Better than I had hoped," was the rejoinder; and
 
 132 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 he held out his hand to Mary. She gave him hers, 
 now cold as ice. He held it a moment and pressed 
 it gently, saying: " You see my sister is going to run 
 away on the first intimation of danger. I hope she 
 has not infected you with her fears; though to judge 
 from your looks I should almost predict a stampede 
 in another direction." 
 
 " Indeed, you are quite right. Florry and I are 
 going with her; though we had decided on leaving 
 before we knew she intended doing so." 
 
 " Ah ! you did not seem to apprehend any imme- 
 diate danger when we conversed on this subject a 
 few days since. What has changed your views ?" 
 
 " I have been warned not to risk the dangers at- 
 tendant on the approaching conflict by a Mexican 
 friend vhose attachment I have every reason to be- 
 lieve i. sincere; and besides, it needed but little to 
 augment my fears ; and Florry and I concluded, if 
 practicable, to remove to a place of greater safety." 
 
 " Can you be ready within two days, think you, 
 Miss Mary ? for, if we leave at all, it is advisable that 
 we do so immediately." 
 
 " Oh, yes! I know that we can be ready by that 
 time." 
 
 " Let me see how many additional horses shall 
 KG need ? Yourself, your cousin, and aunt, and my- 
 feelf." 
 
 Mary looked eagerly at Mrs. Carlton ; but she had 
 averted her head; and for a moment a terrible 
 struggle within kept the gentle girl silent. 
 
 " Dr. Bryant, I know you do not wish to leave here
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 133 
 
 at this juncture, intensely interested as you are in 
 the event, and I fear you are sacrificing your own 
 wishes for our benefit. Let me beg you to consult 
 your inclinations, and do not feel it in the least in- 
 cumbent on you to attend us, particularly when we are 
 in the kind care of Mr. Carlton ; and you have already 
 done so much toward contributing to our comfort." 
 
 " Thank you for your consideration. Neverthe- 
 less, I shall not rest satisfied till I place you in safety 
 on the banks of the Brazos. One of my greatest 
 pleasures has been to render you service, and you 
 would not abridge them, I hope, by refusing my 
 company on your journey?" 
 
 Mary's eyes were fixed earnestly on his face while 
 he spoke, and though there was no change in his 
 kind, gentle tone, there came an undefinable expres- 
 sion over his noble countenance an expression in 
 which coldness and sorrow predominated. She 
 could not understand him; yet a shudder crept 
 through her frame and a sensation of acute pain 
 stole into her heart. She felt as though a barrier 
 had suddenly risen between them, yet could not 
 analyze the cause. 
 
 " Your servants will take all possible care of the 
 house and furniture during your absence, which, I 
 hope, will be but temporary. They will not be mo- 
 lested; and I am afraid we could not conveniently 
 carry two additional persons. What think you of 
 this arrangement?" 
 
 " I think with you, that under existing circum- 
 stances the servants could not well accompany us;
 
 134 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 and though they will incur no danger, I regret the 
 necessity of leaving them, particularly should they 
 object." 
 
 " 1 hope you will find no difficulty in arranging 
 everything to your entire satisfaction previous to 
 our departure. You and my sister must consult as 
 to all minor points, and I must look to our prepara- 
 tions. My respects to your cousin. I will see. you 
 again to-morrow;" and bidding her good morning, 
 he turned away. 
 
 " Oh, such a weight is lifted from my heart !" ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Carlton. " I can now exert myself as 
 I am called on to do." 
 
 " Florry will be waiting for me, and we have much 
 to do at home; so good- by," and Mary lifted her 
 pale face for a farewell kiss. 
 
 Mrs. Carlton afEectionately embraced her, and 
 bidding her " make all speed," they parted 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " There is a soul just delivered from purgatory J It was 
 found to be a frog dressed in red flannel." Kirwan. 
 
 FLORENCE having succeeded, as she imagined, in 
 convincing her aunt that it was advisable to remove 
 from San Antonio, slowly proceeded to the church- 
 yard, little dreaming that the door had scarce closed
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 135 
 
 behind her, ere Aunt Lizzy, with swift steps, directed 
 her way to the house of the Padre. He was writing, 
 but gave his attention, and heard, with ill-disguised 
 chagrin, that Florence distrusted his promised pro- 
 tection. 
 
 " Does she doubt in matters of faith, think you?" 
 he eagerly inquired. 
 
 " Indeed, Padre, I can not say. All I know is, 
 that she and Mary sat till midnight, reading and 
 talking, and she has not seemed like herself since." 
 
 " Where shall I find Florence?" said he, taking his 
 hat. 
 
 " In the church-yard, I think, beside her father's 
 grave." 
 
 " Say nothing to her, but apparently acquiesce in 
 her plans; and, above all, do not let her dream that 
 you have told me these things." 
 
 Ah, Florence ! who may presume to analyze the 
 anguish of your tortured heart, as you throw your- 
 self in such abandonment of grief on the tomb of 
 your lost parent? The luxuriant grass, swaying to 
 and fro in the chin October blast, well-nigh con- 
 cealed the bent and drooping form as she knelt and 
 laid her head on the cold granite. 
 
 " My father ! oh, my father !" and tears, which 
 she had not shed before, fell fast, and somewhat 
 eased the desolate, aching heart. Florence had 
 not wept before in many years; and now that the 
 fountain was unsealed, she strove not to repress the 
 tears which seemed to lift and bear away the heavy 
 weight which had so long crushed her spirits.
 
 136 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 What a blessing it is to be able to weep; and 
 happy are they who can readily give vent to tears, 
 and thus exhaust their grief ! Such can never realize 
 the intensity of anguish which other natures suffer 
 natures to whom this great relief is denied, and 
 who must keep the withering, scorching agony pent 
 up within the secret chambers of their desolate, 
 aching hearts. Sobs and tears are not for these. 
 No, no; alone and in darkness they must wrestle 
 with their grief, crush it down into their inmost 
 soul, and with a calm exterior go forth to meet the 
 world. But ah ! the flitting, wintry smile, the short, 
 constrained laugh, the pale brow marked with lines 
 of mental anguish, will ofttimes tell of the smoulder- 
 ing ruin. . . . 
 
 " My daughter, God has appointed me in place of 
 the parent he has taken hence; turn to me, and our 
 most holy church, and you will find comfort such as 
 naught else can afford." 
 
 Florence sprang to her feet, and shuddered at the 
 sound of his low, soft voice. The Padre marked the 
 shudder, and the uneasy look which accompanied it : 
 " Padre, I have confessed, and I have prayed to al- 
 most every saint in the Calendar, and I have had 
 your prayers in addition to my own; yet I find no 
 comfort. No joy has stolen to my heart as you 
 promised it inevitably would." 
 
 " My daughter, if peace has not descended on 
 thy spirit, I fear you have not been devout. Tell 
 me truly, if you have not doubted in matters of faith,
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 137 
 
 for our most holy Mother ever grants the prayers of 
 her faithful and loving children ?" 
 
 " I have searched the Bible, and I nowhere find 
 authority for invoking saints or the Virgin." 
 
 " I can convince you, without doubt, that there is 
 such authority nay, command." 
 
 " Tis useless, you may save yourself the trouble ; 
 for my mind is clearly made up that we have not 
 even the sanction of the Fathers." 
 
 " Holy Mary, pardon her unbelief, and send down 
 light into her darkened soul!" 
 
 Florence fixed her eyes full upon him, and replied 
 " Christ expressly declares ' I am the light, I am 
 the life.' " 
 
 " Daughter, your heretic cousin has done you a 
 great injury. May God protect you, and forgive her 
 blasphemy." 
 
 " She needs no forgiveness, for she is pure in heart 
 before God and truthful in all things." 
 
 The swarthy cheek of the Italian flushed " Flor- 
 ence, you and your aunt must come and stay at my 
 house till it is safe here; and I doubt not, when you 
 are at leisure to hear me, you will duly repent your 
 hasty speeches. I shall pray God and our Lady to 
 give you a more trusting, believing heart, and inter- 
 cede with the blessed saints for your entire conver- 
 sion." 
 
 "Not so, Father Mazzolin; we shall leave this 
 place in a very few days, and I have come to bid 
 adieu to the grave of my father; leave me, for I wish 
 to be alone and in peace."
 
 138 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " Do you doubt my will or ability to protect you, 
 my daughter ? Beneath my roof no danger can 
 assail." 
 
 " We have fully decided to go from here, and fur- 
 ther reasoning or entreaty would be vain; accept, 
 however, my thanks for your proffered kindness." 
 
 " Girl, you have gone too far ! Hear me while I 
 am placable, for I tell you now, without my consent 
 you can not shall not leave here." 
 
 " You have neither right nor power to detain me." 
 
 " Have I not ? I swear, if you do not hear and 
 abide by what I say, your father's soul will remain 
 forever in purgatory where it justly belongs." 
 
 " How dare you make so miserable a threat ?" 
 said the calm, clear voice of Mary, who had ap- 
 proached unobserved. 
 
 " Cursed believer in a cursed creed, what do you 
 here. Begone, or dread the vengeance I shall surely 
 inflict on so blasphemous and damnable a heretic !" 
 
 Winding her arm tightly about Florence's waist, 
 she replied " 'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. 
 I will repay;' and though I have never injured you, 
 Padre even if I had it ill becomes a consecrated 
 priest to utter such language, or so madly to give 
 vent to passion." 
 
 " Silence!" thundered the Padre, livid with rage; 
 " I will compass heaven and earth rather than you 
 shall escape me." 
 
 " Come, Florry, this is no place for us now; even 
 the church-yard is not sacred. Come home." 
 
 " Florence, dare you curse your own father ?" The
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 139 
 
 gill's lips quivered but no sound came forth she 
 seemed stunned. 
 
 " You would usurp the prerogatives of Jehovah, 
 Father Mazzolin; but your threat is vain. You can 
 not bless or damn my uncle at will How dare you, 
 guilty as you are, hold such impious language ?" 
 
 For a moment he quailed before the calm, unflinch- 
 ing girl, then seizing Florence's arm, hoarsely ex- 
 claimed : " One more chance I give you. Florence, 
 I am your brother your father, my father. On his 
 death- bed he confessed his sins and discovered his 
 son." 
 
 A deep groan burst from Florence's lips, and her 
 slender frame quivered like a reed in a wintry blast. 
 The Padre laid his head on the granite slab which 
 covered the remains of Mr. Hamilton, and con- 
 tinued : " I call God in heaven and all the saints to 
 witness the truth of what I say, and if I prove it not 
 may I sink into perdition. When your father was 
 yet young he made the tour of Europe. Traveling 
 in Italy, he met at Florence a poor but beautiful 
 girl; and she, struck, in turn, by the handsome face 
 of the stranger, left her humble home and listened 
 to the voice of seduction. He remained five months 
 at Florence, and then suddenly left Italy for his 
 native country without apprising the unfortunate 
 woman of his intentions. Hatred succeeded to love, 
 and she vowed vengeance. That woman was my 
 mother; and when ten years had passed, she told 
 me my parentage, and made me swear on the altar 
 of her patron saint that I would fulfill her vow of
 
 140 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 vengeance. She died and I became a priest of Rome, 
 and in time was sent by my order to Mexico, and 
 thence here to assist my aged and infirm pre- 
 decessor. I had in my possession a miniature of my 
 father, and no sooner had I met him here than I 
 recognized the base being who had deserted my 
 mother. I kept my peace; but ere he died he con- 
 fessed that one sin heavier than everything beside 
 weighed on his conscience. In the agony and re- 
 morse of that hour my mother was revenged. I told 
 my parentage, and he discovered his child. Feeling 
 that I was your brother, he bade you remain here, 
 claim my protection, and follow my advice. But, 
 Florence, hear me your misery touched my heart; 
 a kindred feeling for you made me desire to serve 
 you; but I swear now that if you hear not my voice, 
 and return to the bosom of our church, your father's 
 soul shall linger in damnation, and my vengeance 
 shall follow you. You know not my power, and woe 
 to you if you defy me!" 
 
 Had the spectre-form of the deceased, leaving the 
 shadowy band of the spirit-world, risen on the 
 granite slab before them, the two girls could not 
 have been more startled. Tightly they clung one to 
 another, their eyes riveted on the face of the Padre. 
 There was a long pause; then Florence lifted her- 
 self proudly up, and cold and haughty was her tone. 
 " It is not for me to deny your statement. If my 
 father sinned, peace to his memory, and may God 
 forgive him. One so sinful and malignant as your- 
 self can not be invested with divine prerogatives
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 14! 
 
 I have known your intentions with regard to myself 
 since the hour I knelt in confession. Iwas destined 
 for a convent, and I tacitly acquiesced in your plans, 
 hoping that so secluded from the world I should be 
 comparatively happy ; but my feelings are changed 
 on many points, and any further interference from 
 you will be received with the scorn it merits. No 
 love for me actuates your movements, else you would 
 have spared me the suffering of this hour." 
 
 " You defy me, then ?" 
 
 Florence had turned away, and heeded not his 
 question ; but Mary, clasping her hands, looked ap- 
 pealingly in his face: " Oh, Padre, by the tie which 
 you declare exists between yourself and Florry for 
 the sake of your lost parent do not put your threat 
 in execution. Spare an unprotected orphan. You 
 will not harm your sister !" 
 
 " Know you not, girl, that when a Jesuit priest 
 takes the oath of his order, he tears his heart from 
 his breast and lays it at the feet of his superior ? 
 Appeal not to ties of relationship: we repudiate 
 them, and pity is unknown among us." 
 
 With a shudder Mary joined her cousin, and rapidly 
 and in perfect silence they retraced their steps home- 
 ward. When they reached their gate, Mary would 
 have opened it, but her cousin, taking her hand, led 
 the way to their old seat beside the river. 
 
 Florence seated herself as near the water as possi- 
 ble, and then tightly clasping the hand she held, 
 asked in a voice of suppressed emotion : " Tell me, 
 Mary, is there a purgatory ?"
 
 142 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " No, Florry; I think there is less foundation for 
 that doctrine than any advanced by your church." 
 
 " Mary, you speak truth, and all that you say I 
 can implicitly believe. Tell me what grounds sup- 
 port the theory ?" 
 
 " You remember the words of our Saviour, ' All 
 sin shall be forgiven, save blasphemy of the Holy 
 Ghost ; that shall not be forgiven, either in this 
 world or the next.' Now Papists argue in this way: 
 Then other sins can be forgiven in another world; 
 there is no sin in heaven, in hell no forgiveness, con- 
 sequently, there must exist a middle place, or, in 
 other words, a purgatory. Florry, you smile, yet I 
 assure you I have seen this advanced as unanswera- 
 ble. In the book of Maccabees is a very remarkable 
 passage authorizing prayers for the dead, and on 
 this passage they build their theory and sanction 
 their practice. Yet you know full well it is one of 
 the Apocryphal books rejected by the Jews, because 
 not originally written in their language. It was never 
 quoted by our Saviour, nor even received as inspired 
 by your own church till the Council of Trent, when 
 it was admitted to substantiate the doctrine of pur- 
 gatory, and sanction prayers for the dead. I admit 
 that on this point St. Augustine's practice was in 
 favor of it ; though it was only near the close of his 
 long life that he speaks of the soul of his mother. 
 Yet already history informs us that the practice 
 of praying for the dead was gaining ground in the 
 church, along with image worship. St. Cyprian, 
 who lived long before him, and during a purer state
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 143 
 
 of the church, leaves no doubt on our minds as to 
 his sentiments on that subject ; his words are these : 
 ' When ye depart hence, there will be no room for re- 
 pentance no method of being reconciled to God. 
 Here eternal life is either lost or won. Here, by the 
 worship of God, and the fruit of faith, provision is 
 made for eternal salvation. And let no man be re- 
 tarded, either by his sins or years, from coming to 
 obtain it. No repentance is too late while a man 
 remains in this world.' Our Saviour nowhere gives 
 any encouragement of such a doctrine. On the 
 contrary, he said to the dying thief: ' This day shalt 
 thou be with me in Paradise.' I know of no other 
 argument which Papists advance in favor of their 
 darling theory, save the practice of the latter Fathers 
 of their church." 
 
 " Mary, I can not believe this doctrine, without 
 further proof of Divine sanction." 
 
 " Indeed, Florry, I know of no other reason in its 
 favor, and have long supposed it a system of extor- 
 tion in connection with indulgences, now used only 
 as a means of gain by the dissolute clergy of the 
 Romish faith. I need scarcely say, that the abuse 
 of this latter doctrine drove Luther to reformation. 
 It is a well-known fact, that in the i6th century, 
 Tetzel, a Dominican monk high in his order, drove 
 through Germany in a wagon, containing two boxes, 
 one holding indulgences, the other the money re- 
 ceived for them. You will smile, Florry, when I 
 repeat a translation of the German lines written on 
 the outside of the letter-box:
 
 144 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " ' When in this chest the money rings, 
 The soul straight up to heaven springs.' 
 
 Yet the boldness and audacity of his general lan- 
 guage was quite in accordance. ' Indulgences,' said 
 he, ' are the most precious of God's gifts. I would 
 not exchange my privileges for those of St. Peter in 
 heaven; for I have saved more souls with my in- 
 dulgences than he with all his sermons. There is 
 no sin so great that the indulgence will not remit it. 
 Even repentance is not necessary. Indulgences 
 save the dead; for the very moment the money 
 chinks against the bottom of this chest, the soul 
 escapes from purgrtory, and flies to heaven.' 
 
 " Yet this inquisitor was high in favor with Pope 
 Leo X. You will say, Florry, that the abuse of a 
 doctrine should be no test of its soundness ; and I 
 admit that had he received the punishment he so 
 richly merited it would not ; yet this is only one in- 
 stance among many. We have conversed on the 
 doctrines of the Romish faith merely as theories, 
 should we not now look at the practice ? We need 
 not go very far. When Aunt Fanny expressed sur- 
 prise on seeing our Mexican shepherd eat meat last 
 Friday, did he not reply in extenuation, ' I have paid 
 the priest and can eat meat ?' Now if it was neces- 
 sary tor him to abstain previously, conld the small 
 sum paid to the Padre exempt him from the duty ? 
 Again we see the working of the system : was not 
 Herrara scrupulously exact on the same point ? yet 
 he rose from the table and told a most positive lie. 
 With regard to indulgences, there is not a Papi* who
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 14$ 
 
 will admit that they are a license to sin ? The voice 
 of history declares that ' a regular scale for absolu- 
 tion was graded/ and the fact is authenticated by a 
 recent traveler, who asserts that in the chancel of 
 Santa Croce, at Rome, is hung a catalogue of the in- 
 dulgences granted to all who worship in that church. 
 Yet your priests will tell you they are the remission 
 of sins already committed. Did not Herrara say, ' I 
 have paid the Padre and can eat meat ?' Now I ask 
 you if this is not a license to commit what would 
 otherwise be considered a heinous offense by all de- 
 vout Papists ?" 
 
 " Relying implicitly on what the Padre asserted, 
 Mary, I have never investigated these subjects as I 
 should have done, before giving my credence and 
 support ; but of the doctrine in question I can hence- 
 forth entertain but one opinion a detestable and 
 famous method of filling the papal coffers ; for since 
 you have led me to think on this subject, I clearly 
 remember that a large portion of the enormous ex- 
 pense incurred by the building, ornamenting, and 
 repairing of St. Peter's, was defrayed by money ob- 
 tained through the sale of indulgences. Oh, Mary, 
 how could I have been so deluded allowed myself 
 to be so deceived !" She took from her pocket the 
 rosary and crucifix which had been given to her 
 father, and threw them impatiently into the river 
 gurgling at her feet. 
 
 " The perfect harmony with which the entire sys- 
 tem works is unparalleled in the civil, religious, or 
 political annals of the world. A complete espionage
 
 146 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 is exercised in papal countries, from the Adriatic to 
 the Californian gulf. And the greater portion of 
 this is accomplished by means of the confessional. 
 The Superior at Rome can become, at pleasure, as 
 perfectly conversant with your domestic arrange- 
 ments, and the thousand incidents which daily occur, 
 as you or I, who are cognizant of them. To what is 
 all this tending? Ah, Florry, look at the, blood- 
 stained records of the past. The voices of slaught- 
 ered thousands, borne to us across the waste of cen- 
 turies, bid us remember the Duke of Alva, the Al- 
 bigensian crusade, the massacre of St. Bartholomew, 
 and the blazes of Smithfield. Ignatius Loyola! 
 happy would it have been for millions lost, and mil- 
 lions yet to be, hadst thou perished at the siege of 
 Pampeluna. Florry, contrast Italy and Germany, 
 Spain and Scotland, and look at Portugal, and South 
 America and Mexico, and oh, look at this benighted 
 town! A fairer spot by nature the face of earth 
 cannot boast; yet mark the sloth, the penury, the 
 degradation of its people, the misery that prevails. 
 And why ? Because they languish under the iron 
 rule of the papal see iron, because it admits of no 
 modification. Entire supremacy over both body 
 and soul, or total annihilation of their power. May 
 the time speedily come when they shall spurn their 
 oppressors, and trample their yoke in the dust, as 
 their transatlantic brethren will ultimately do. Oh, 
 Florry, does not your heart yearn toward benighted 
 Italy ? Italy, once so beautiful and noble once the 
 acknowledged mistress of the world, as she sat in
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 147 
 
 royal magnificence, enthroned on her seven hills; 
 now a miserable waste, divided between petty sov- 
 ereigns, and a by-word for guilt and degradation ! 
 The glorious image lies a ruin at our feet ! for the 
 spirit that gave beauty and strength, and shed a 
 halo of splendor round its immortal name, has fled 
 afar, perhaps forever; banished by the perfidious 
 system of Papacy that sworn foe to liberty, ecclesi- 
 astical or political. 
 
 " How incomprehensible the apathy with which 
 the English regard the promulgation of Puseyism in 
 their church ! It is stealing silently but swiftly to 
 the very heart of their ecclesiastical institutions, and 
 total subversion will ultimately ensue. That Amer- 
 icans should contemplate without apprehension the 
 gradual increase of papal power is not so astonish- 
 ing, for this happy land has never groaned beneath 
 its iron sway. But that the descendants of Latimer 
 and of Ridley, of Hooper and of Cranmer, should 
 tamely view the encroachments of this monster 
 hydra, is strange indeed. Do not imagine, Florry, 
 that I doubt the sincerity of all who belong to the 
 Chutch of Rome. I know and believe that there 
 are many earnest and conscientious members of 
 this there cannot be a doubt ; yet it is equally true, 
 that the most devoted Papists are to be found among 
 the most ignorant, bigoted, and superstitious of 
 men. The masses of your church are deceived with 
 pretended miracles and wondrous legends, such as 
 the one currently reported respecting the holy house 
 of Loretto, which seems so migratory, and flies hun- 
 Vol. 6 G Evans
 
 148 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 dreds of miles in a night. These marvelous tales 
 are credited by the uneducated ; yet no enlightened 
 man or woman of the present age, who has fully in- 
 vestigated this subject, can say with truth that they 
 conscientiously believe the doctrines of the Romish 
 Church to be those taught by our Saviour, or its 
 practices in accordance with the general tenor of 
 the Bible. This may seem a broad assertion, yet 
 none who calmly consider the subject in all its bear- 
 ings, and consult the page of history, will pronounce 
 it a hasty one." 
 
 " Yet remember, Mary, that the sect in question 
 is proverbial for charitable institutions. One vital 
 principle is preserved. Surely this is a redeeming 
 virtue. Catholics are untiring in schemes of benev- 
 olence and philanthrophy." 
 
 " You will start, and perhaps condemn me, when 
 I reply that their boasted charity is but the mask 
 behind which they disseminate the doctrines of the 
 Romish Church. I may appear very uncharitable in 
 the expression of this opinion; yet hear me, Florry; 
 facts are incontrovertible. If you will think a mo- 
 ment, you can not fail to remember Patrick, the 
 
 porter at our friend Mrs. D 's. Having received 
 
 a dangerous wound in his foot, he was sent to the 
 hospital, where several of the nurses were Sisters of 
 Charity. He remained nearly a month, and on his 
 
 return related to Mrs. D , in my presence, some 
 
 of the circumstances of his long illness. His words 
 made a lasting impression on my mind : 
 
 " ' Indeed, and I am glad enough to come home,
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 149 
 
 ma'am; for never was I treated worse in my life. 
 The first .week, Sister Agnes, who nursed in my room, 
 was kind and tender as conld be, and thought, I, if 
 ever angels come to earth, this good woman is one; 
 but I can tell ye I did not think so long : she read 
 some saints' lives to us, and asked me if I was a 
 Catholic. I said no, I was no Catholic. Then she 
 tried every way to make me one, and told me if I re- 
 fused I would surely die and go to purgatory. Faith ! 
 the more she talked that way, the more I wouldn't 
 be a Catholic; and then she just let me alone, and 
 not another thing would she do for me. I might call 
 from then till now, and never a step would she come, 
 or nurse me a bit. It is no good care of hers that 
 has brought me back alive and well: I tell you, 
 Sister Agnes won't do for any but Catholics.' 
 
 " Florry, is such charity akin to that taught by the 
 Bible ? Catholics boast of their asylums ; and by 
 means of fairs and suppers, large amounts are 
 annually collected for the support of these numer- 
 ous institutions. I have been told by a directress of 
 a Protestant orphan asylum, that on one occasion a 
 squalid woman, accompanied by two boys, presented 
 herself and entreated that her children might be re- 
 ceived into the asylum. The unhappy mother in- 
 formed the directress that she was a Roman Catholic, 
 and had claimed the protection of her own sect ; 
 4 but,' said she, tearfully, Indeed I had no money to 
 pay for their entrance, and they refused to take my 
 children. 1 
 
 " Such, Florry, is their boasted charity; and I
 
 IJO INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 might add, their lived are little in accordance with 
 the spirit inculcated by our Saviour, who said, 
 * When ye do your alms, let not your left hand know 
 what your right hand doeth.' There are thousands 
 who daily dispense charities of various kinds; yet 
 they do not term themselves Sisters of Charity; 
 neither promenade the streets in a garb so anti- 
 quated and peculiar as to excite attention, or elicit 
 encomiums on their marvelously holy lives and 
 charitable deeds. Do not suppose, Florry, because 
 I speak thus, that I doubt the sincerity of all who 
 enroll themselves as Sisters. I do believe that there 
 are many pious and conscientious women thus 
 engaged ; yet they are but tools of the priests, and 
 by them placed in these institutions for the purpose 
 of making proselytes." 
 
 A pause ensued, and Florence paced slowly along 
 the bank. Somewhat abruptly she replied : 
 
 " Yet you will admit, Mary, that we owe much to 
 the monks, by whose efforts light and knowledge 
 were preserved during the dark ages ? But for 
 them every vestige of literature, every record of the 
 past, would inevitably have been lost. " 
 
 " Tell me, Florry, what caused the dark ages ? 
 Was it not the gradual withdrawal of light and knowl- 
 edge the crushing, withering influence exerted 
 on the minds of men ? And tell me if this influence 
 was not wielded by the priests of Rome corrupted, 
 fallen Rome ? During the dark period in question, 
 papal power was at its height ; the thunders of the 
 Vatican were echoed from the Adriatic to the
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 151 
 
 Atlantic from the Mediterranean to the North Sea. 
 An interdict of its profligate Pope clothed cities, and 
 kingdoms, and empires in mourning; the churches 
 were closed, the dead unburied, and no rite, save 
 that of baptism, performed. Ignorance and super- 
 stition reigned throughout the world ; and it is said, 
 that in the ninth century scarce a person was to be 
 found in Rome itself who knew even the alphabet. 
 Yet monasteries crowned every eminence, and dotted 
 the vales of southern Europe. The power of the 
 priesthood was supreme. Florry, I do admit that 
 what remained of light and learning was hid in the 
 cell of the anchorite; not disseminated, but effectu- 
 ally concealed. They forgot our Saviour's injunc- 
 tion ' Let your light shine before men.' Oh! 
 Florry, did not teachers of the dark ages put their 
 light under a bushel ? Dark ages will ever follow 
 the increase of papal power. It is part of their 
 system to keep the masses in ignorance. How truly 
 it has been said that Rome asked but one thing, and 
 that Luther denied her ' A fulcrum of ignorance on 
 which to rest that lever by which she can balance 
 the world.' They dare not allow their people light 
 and knowledge; and what to others was indeed a 
 dark age, is regarded by the priests of Rome as a 
 golden season. Can you point to a single papal 
 country which is not enveloped in the black cloud of 
 superstition and crime ? To Italy, and Spain, and 
 Portugal, the dark ages have not passed away; 
 neither will they, till liberty of conscience is allowed, 
 and the Bible permitted in the hands of the laity.
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 Under papal rule, those unfortunate nations win 
 never rise from their degradation; for their masters 
 and teachers 'love darkness rather than light, be- 
 cause their deeds are evil.' It has often been said 
 by those who fail properly to consider this subject, 
 that the Roman Catholic schools and colleges which 
 abound in the United States are far superior to simi- 
 lar Protestant institutions. Why do not these very 
 superior teachers disseminate knowledge at home ? 
 Why do they not first enlighten the Spaniards, ere 
 they cross the Atlantic to instruct American pupils ? 
 The ignorance of Neapolitans is proverbial; yet 
 Naples is the peculiarly favored city of Romanism. 
 Tell me why these learned professors do not teach 
 their own people ? Florry, papal institutions in 
 America are but branches of the Propaganda. They 
 but come to proselyte. I have heard it repeatedly 
 averred of a certain nunnery, ' that no efforts were 
 made to affect the religious views of the pupils.' 
 Yet I know that such is not the case. They are far 
 too politic openly to attack the religion ; yet secretly 
 it is undermined. I will tell you how, Florry, for 
 you look wonderingly at me. Prizes are awarded 
 for diligence, and application; and these prizes are 
 books, setting forth in winning language the doctrines 
 of their church. I have seen one of these which was 
 given to M K , and I also read it most care- 
 fully. It was entitled ' Alethea; or, a Defense of 
 Catholic Doctrines.' Yet most indignantly they 
 deny any attempts toward proselyting the pupils in- 
 trusted to their care."
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 153 
 
 * Who will deny the truth of your statements, 
 Mary ? Yet, if such are the facts, how can the world be 
 so utterly ignorant of, or indifferent to them ? Strange 
 that they can thus regard a subject so fraught with 
 interest to every lover of liberty to every patriot." 
 
 " Florry, Papists are unacquainted with these 
 things; for, begirt with darkening, crushing influ- 
 ence, they are effectually secluded from even a 
 wandering ray of light on this subject. The avenue 
 through which all information is conveyed at the 
 present day is barred to them. Books are denied to 
 the Catholic laity. You may ask how this is effected 
 in this enlightened and liberal age. The prelates 
 of Rome, who long ago resorted to ignorance as their 
 bulwark, are ever on the alert. No sooner is a new 
 publication announced, than it is most carefully 
 perused by them; and if calculated to point out the 
 fallacy of their doctrines, or depict their abuse of 
 power, a papal bull is forthwith issued, prohibiting 
 all Catholics from reading the heretical book. The 
 writings of the prince of novelists, Walter Scott, 
 which are universally read by other sects, are per- 
 emptorily refused to all Papists. And why ? Because 
 many of his darts are aimed at their profligate priest- 
 hood. Now if, as they tell their people, these are 
 but slanderous attacks on their religion, surely the 
 shafts would fall harmless on the armor of truth. 
 Why then so strenuously oppose their reading such 
 works ! Florry, the trite adage, 4 Truth is the hard- 
 est of all to bear,' is applicable to these prelates of 
 papacy; who, knowing their danger, are fully re-
 
 154 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 solved to guard the avenues of light and knowledge. 
 The Pope of imperial Rome, surrounded as he is 
 with luxury, magnificence, and hosts of scarlet- 
 liveried cardinals, who stand in readiness to convey 
 his mandates to the remotest corners of the earth, 
 has been made to tremble on his throne by the pen 
 of feeble women. The truthful delineations of Char- 
 lotte Elizabeth startled his Holiness of the Vatican 
 and the assistant conclave of learned cardinals 
 trembling lest their laity of the Green Isle should 
 catch a glimpse of light. A bull was quickly fulmin- 
 ated against her heretical productions. Alas ! when 
 will the Romish Church burst the iron bands which 
 begirt her ? 
 
 " The world at large I mean the world as com- 
 posed of Protestants, latitudinarians, politicians, 
 statesmen, and fashionable dunces, are in a great 
 measure acquainted with these facts; but knowing 
 the rapidly increasing power of papal Rome, and the 
 vast influence already wielded in this happy land by 
 its priesthood, they prefer to float along with the 
 tide, rather than vigorously resist this blasting sys- 
 tem of ignorance, superstition, and crime which, 
 stealthily approaching from the east and from the 
 west, will unite and crush the liberties of our glori- 
 ous Republic. As patriots, they are called on to 
 oppose strenuously its every encroachment yet they 
 dare not ; for should they venture to declaim against 
 its errors, they endanger their popularity and incur 
 the risk of defeat at an ensuing election. Florry, I 
 was once conversing on this subject with a lady who
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 155 
 
 had recently visited Europe, and inquired of her if 
 she had not marked the evils and abuses which ex- 
 isted in the papal dominions through which she trav- 
 eled. She whisperingly replied ' Certainly, my 
 dear, I could not fail to mark the ignorance and 
 degradation which prevailed, but I never speak of it, 
 because, you know, it makes one very unpopular.' 
 Here, Florry, you have the key to the mystery. 
 Americans quietly contemplate this momentous sub- 
 ject, and silently view the abuses which are creeping 
 into our communities, because if they expose them, 
 it is at the hazard of becoming unpopular." 
 
 " Mary, can I ever, ever forget the hour in the 
 church-yard ?" Florence sadly said, as they rose and 
 proceeded to the house. " Oh ! it seems branded on 
 my brain ; yet I must cast this new grief from me, 
 far enough of anguish was mine before. Still I feel 
 that there is a path just ahead, and it seems lighted 
 up. But a slight barrier intervenes, and when that 
 is passed all will be well. Pray for me, Mary, that I 
 may be enabled to lead the life of a Christian, and 
 last die the death of the righteous." 
 
 Clasping tightly the hand which rested in her 
 own, Mary replied : 
 
 " While life remains, it shall indeed be my prayer 
 that you may be blessed on earth, and rewarded in 
 heaven. Oh, Florry, I thank God that the scales 
 have fallen from your eyes, and that truth shines 
 brightly before you." She stopped suddenly, and 
 pressed her hand to her side while the pale brow 
 wrinkled with pain.
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " I have been talking too much, there is a suffocat- 
 ing sensation here." 
 
 " It is only.momentary, I hope." 
 
 Mary shook her head, and smiled sadly: " I don't 
 know, Florry; I have felt strangely of late." 
 
 That evening, as the household were busily pre- 
 paring for their intended departure, Dr. Bryant 
 abruptly entered, and informed them, with a clouded 
 brow, that removal was impossible, as he could not 
 procure a pair of horses for any price. 
 
 " It is perfectly unaccountable what has possessed 
 the Mexican from whom I purchased as many as I 
 thought necessary. We agreed as to price, and they 
 were to be sent this afternoon ; but about two hours 
 ago, he came to me, and declared that he had 
 changed his mind, and would not part with them. 
 I offered double the original amount, but he said 
 money was no inducement. I strove to borrow or 
 hire for any given time, but every proposal was per- 
 emptorily declined, and as it is impossible to leave 
 here, I came over to entreat you to remain with my 
 sister, at least for a few days, till we can determine 
 what is advisable to do." 
 
 His proposal was accepted, and the ensuing day 
 saw them inmates of Mrs. Carlton's.
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " We're the sons of sires that baffled 
 
 Crowned and mitred tyranny : 
 They defied the field and scaffold 
 For their birth-rights so will we ! H 
 
 Campbett. 
 
 THE issue of the engagement of the 8th October 
 placed Goliad, with valuable munitions, in the hands 
 of the Texans. Many and joyous acclamations rose 
 from their camp, hope beamed on every face, and 
 sanguine expectations were entertained of a speedy 
 termination of the conflict. Showly the little band 
 proceeded toward Bexar, receiving daily accessions 
 from head- quarters, and girding themselves for a 
 desperate struggle. General Cos, fully appreciating 
 the importance of the post he held, made active 
 preparation for its defense, never doubting, however, 
 that the strong fortifications of the Alamo would 
 prove impregnable to assailants so feeble numeri- 
 cally. Under the direction of the cautious Spaniard, 
 the town already assumed a beleaguered aspect, and 
 in addition to the watchman stationed on the obser- 
 vatory of the fortress, a sentinel paced to and fro on 
 the flat roof of the gray old church, having orders to 
 give instant alarm in case of danger by the ringing 
 of the several bells. Silver-haired men, bending 
 beneath the weight of years, alone passed along the 
 deserted streets, and augured of the future in the
 
 158 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 now silent Plaza. The stores were closed, and 
 anxiously the few Americans awaited the result; 
 rising at dawn with the belief that ere twilight closed 
 again their suspense would be terminated. On the 
 morning of the 28th the booming of distant artillery 
 was borne on the southern breeze. With throbbing 
 hearts the inhabitants gathered about their doors, 
 and strained their eyes toward the south. A large 
 body of Mexicans, availing themselves of the cover 
 of night, sallied from the Alamo, hoping to cut off a 
 squad of ninety-two men, who leaving the main body 
 of the Texan army, had advanced for the purpose of 
 reconnoitring, and were posted at the old Mission of 
 Conception, some two miles below the town; and 
 here the contest was waged. The watchman on the 
 church listened intently as each report reached his 
 ear, and kept his fingers firmly on the bell-rope. 
 An hour passed on, and the sun rode high in heaven; 
 gradually the thundering died away. Quicker grew 
 the breathing, and tighter the cold fingers clasped 
 each other. The last sound ceased: a deathlike 
 silence reigned throughout the town, and many a 
 cheek grew colorless as marble. There came a con- 
 fused sound of shouts the mingling of many voices 
 the distant tramp of cavalry; and then there fell 
 on the aching ears the deep, thrilling tones of the 
 church bells. 
 
 An intervening bend in the river was quickly 
 passed, and a body of Mexican cavalry dashed at full 
 gallop across the plain, nor slackened their pace till 
 secure behind the sombre walls of the Alamo.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 159 
 
 At intervals of every few moments, small squads 
 pushed in, then a running band of infantry, and 
 lastly, a solitary horseman reeling in his saddle, drip- 
 ping with gore. Madly his wounded horse sprang 
 on, when just as the fort was gained, his luckless 
 rider rolled senseless at the entrance. One deep 
 groan was echoed from church to fortress. Victory, 
 which had hovered doubtful o'er the bloody field, 
 settled at last on the banner of the " Lone Star.'* 
 Against what fearful odds is victory ofttimes won! 
 The intrepid Texans, assaulted by forces which 
 trebled their own, fought as only Texans can. With 
 unerring precision they lifted their rifles, and artil- 
 lerymen and officers rolled together in the dust. 
 The brave little band conquered, and the flying 
 Mexicans left them sole masters of the field of the 
 ri Horseshoe." On the hill which rose just beyond 
 the town stood, in bold relief against the eastern sky, 
 a tall square building, to which the sobriquet of 
 " Powder-House " was applied. Here, as a means 
 of increased vigilance, was placed a body of horse, 
 for the purpose of watching the plain which 
 stretched along the river. Fearing every moment 
 to see the victorious Texans at the heels of their re- 
 treating infantry, they had orders to dash in, at the 
 first glimpse of the advance-guard of the enemy. 
 But night closed and none appeared, and, dreading 
 the morning light, many lay down to sleep at the 
 close of that eventful day. Several hours elapsed, 
 and then the Texan forces, under General Burle-
 
 160 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 son, wound across the valley, and settled along the 
 verge of the town. The Alamo was beleaguered. 
 
 Forced, as it were, to remain a witness of the 
 horrors of the then approaching conflict, the cousins 
 strove to cast from them the gloomy forebodings 
 which crept into their hearts, darkening the present 
 and investing the future with phantoms of terror. 
 Mrs. Carlton and Mary were far more hopeful than 
 the remainder of the little circle, and kept up the 
 semblance of cheerfulness, which ever flies at the 
 approach of danger. The girls saw but little of the 
 gentlemen, for Mr. Carlton was ever out in search of 
 tidings from the camp, and Frank, in opposition to 
 his sister's tearful entreaties, had enlisted immedi- 
 ately after General Burleson's arrival. His manner,, 
 during his brief visits, was considerate and kind ; yet 
 Mary fancied at times that he avoided her, though, 
 marking her declining health, he had prescribed 
 some simple remedy, and never failed to inquire if 
 she were not improving. Still there was a certain 
 something, indescribable, yet fully felt, which made 
 her shrink from meeting him, and as week after 
 week passed, her cheek grew paler, and her step 
 more feeble. 
 
 With an anxious heart, Mrs. Carlton watched her 
 failing strength ; but to all inquiries and fears Mary 
 replied that she did not suffer, save from her cough, 
 and for a time dispelled her apprehensions. 
 
 One evening Mary stood leaning against the win- 
 dow, looking earnestly, wistfully upon the beautiful 
 tints which ever linger in the western sky. She
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. l6l 
 
 stretched her arms toward the dim outline, murmur- 
 ing slowly: 
 
 41 Oh! that my life may fade away as gently as 
 those tints, and that I may at last rest on the bosom 
 of my God." 
 
 Darkness closed around the soft hues melted 
 into the deep blue of the zenith as she stood com- 
 muning with her own heart , and she started when a 
 shawl was wrapped about her, and the window 
 closed. 
 
 " As ministering physician, I cannot allow such 
 neglect of injunctions. How dare you expose your- 
 self after my express direction to keep close ?" 
 
 " I have kept very close all day, and did not know 
 that star-gazing was interdicted." 
 
 As she spoke, a violent fit of coughing succeeded; 
 he watched her anxiously. 
 
 " Do you suffer any acute pain ?" 
 
 *' Occasionally I do; but nothing troubles me so 
 much as an unpleasant fluttering about my heart, 
 which I often have." 
 
 " You must be very careful, or your cough wiH in- 
 crease as winter comes on." 
 
 Mary repressed a sigh which struggled up from 
 her heart, and inquired if there was any news. 
 
 " We can not learn exactly what is happening 
 within the Alamo, but feel assured the crisis is 
 at hand; some excitement has prevailed in the gar- 
 rison all day, and it is confidently expected in oar 
 camp that the assault will soon be made/'
 
 162 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " Oh ! may God help you in the coming strife, and 
 adjudge victory to the side of justice and liberty." 
 
 " Apparently the chances are against us, Miss 
 Irving, yet I regard the future without apprehension, 
 for the Texans are fearless, and General Burleson in 
 every respect worthy the confidence reposed in him. 
 Allow gloomy forebodings no room in your heart, 
 but, like myself, anticipate a speedy termination of 
 the war." 
 
 " Yet your situation is perilous in the extreme; 
 hourly you incur danger, and each day may be your 
 last. Oh ! why will you hazard your life, and cause 
 your sister such bitter anguish ?" Mary replied, 
 with quivering lips, while the tone faltered, despite 
 her efforts to seem calm. 
 
 " At least, I could not die in a better cause; and 
 as the price of independence, I would willingly yield 
 up my life. Yet Ellen's tears are difficult to bear; I 
 bade her adieu a few moments since, and must not 
 meet her again till all is decided. So good-by, Miss 
 Irving." 
 
 He held her hand in his, pressing it warmly, then 
 lifted the cold fingers to his lips, and quietly turned 
 away.
 
 IlfEZ; A TALE OF THB ALAMO. 163 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 It rains what lady loves a rainy day ? 
 She loves a rainy day who sweeps the hearth 
 And threads the busy needle, or applies 
 The scissors to the torn or thread-bare sleeve ; 
 And blesses God that she has friends and home." 
 
 Anon. 
 
 "MARY, where is your cousin ? I have not seen 
 her since breakfast," inquired Mrs. Carlton, as the 
 two friends sat conversing in the chamber of the 
 latter. 
 
 " She laid aside her book just now, declaring it 
 was so dark she could scarcely read. This gloomy 
 day has infected her spirits; she is probably in the 
 dining-room. I will seek her." And rising, Mary 
 left the apartment. 
 
 For two days the rain had fallen in torrents, and 
 now on the third morning, the heavens were still 
 overcast, and at intervals of every few moments the 
 heavy clouds discharged themselves in copious 
 showers. The despondency induced by the un- 
 settled times was enhanced by the gloomy weather, 
 and many an earnest wish was expressed that sun- 
 shine would soon smile again upon the town. 
 
 Weary with pacing up and down the dining-room, 
 Florence had stationed herself at the window, and 
 stood with her cheek pressed against the panes, gaz-
 
 164 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 ing dreamily out upon the deluged streets. She was 
 roused from her reverie by Mary's entrance. 
 
 " Florry, I have come in quest of you. Pray, how 
 are you amusing yourself here, all alone ?" 
 
 " Communing with my own thoughts, as usual. 
 Here, Mary, stand beside me. As you came in I 
 was puzzling myself to discover how those Mexican 
 women across the street are employing themselves. 
 They seem distressed, yet every now and then chatter 
 with most perfect unconcern. There, they are both 
 on their knees, with something like a picture hang- 
 ing on the fence before them. They dart in and 
 out of the house in a strange, excited manner. Per- 
 haps you can enlighten me ?" 
 
 Mary looked earnestly in the direction indicated 
 by her cousin, and at length replied : 
 
 " You will scarcely credit my explanation : yet I 
 assure you I perfectly understand the pantomine. 
 Florry, look more particularly at the picture sus- 
 pended in the rain. What does it most resemble, 
 think you ?" 
 
 " Ah, I see now it is an image of the Virgin ! 
 But I should suppose they considered it sacrilegious 
 to expose it to the inclemencies of the weather." 
 
 " Look closely, Florry, they are praying to the 
 Virgin, and imploring a cessation of the rain. I 
 once happened at Sefior Gonzale's during a thunder- 
 storm, and, to my astonishment, the family immedi- 
 ately hung out all the paintings of saints they pos- 
 sessed. I inquired the meaning, and was told in 
 answer, that the shower would soon pass over, as
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 165 
 
 they had petitioned the images to that effect. Those 
 women have repeated a certain number of aves, and 
 withdrawn into the house, but ere long you will see 
 them return, and go through the same formula." 
 
 " It is almost incredible that they should ascribe 
 such miraculous power to these little bits of painted 
 canvas," replied Florence, gazing curiously upon the 
 picture which was suspended with the face toward 
 her. 
 
 " No, not incredible, when you remember the 
 quantity of relics annually exported from Rome, 
 such as ' chips of the Cross, 1 ' bones of the Apostles/ 
 and ' fragments of the Virgin's apparel/ which Pa- 
 pists conscientiously believe are endowed with mag- 
 ical powers sufficient to relieve various infirmities. 
 I doubt not that those women confidently expect a 
 favorable response to their petition ; and if such in- 
 tercession could avail, it was certainly never more 
 needed. Absurd as the practice appears to us, a 
 doubt of the efficacy of their prayers never crosses 
 their minds. They are both devout and conscien- 
 tious." 
 
 " But, Mary, such superstitious ignorance is en- 
 tirely confined to the degraded and uneducated 
 classes. No really intelligent mind could rely on 
 yonder picture to dispel these clouds, and win a ray 
 of sunshine. I think you are too hasty in supposing 
 that the enlightened portion of the Catholic Church 
 place such implicit confidence in images and relics." 
 
 "What do you term the enlightened portion of
 
 l66 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 the church ? Would not its prelates be considered 
 as belonging to that class ?" 
 
 " Most certainly they would, Mary: for doubtless 
 many of the greatest minds Europe has produced, 
 were and are still to be found among the Roman 
 Catholic clergy. Yet you would not insinuate that 
 these rely on the efficacy of such mummery as that 
 we have just witnessed ?" replied Florence, fixing her 
 eyes inquiringly upon her cousin's face. 
 
 " Allow me to ask one question ere I reply, 
 Florry, do you believe the days of miracles have 
 passed away, or do you suppose that the laws of 
 nature are still constantly infringed, the harmony of 
 cause and effect destroyed, and wonderful phe- 
 nomena still vouchsafed to favored Europeans ?" 
 
 " Of course I do not advocate the theory that 
 miracles occur at the present day. It is too pre- 
 posterous to advance in this enlightened age. There 
 are prehaps natural phenomena, only to be explained 
 by scientific research ; yet in the common accepta- 
 tion of the term miracle, I unhesitatingly declare 
 that I believe none have occurred since the days of 
 Christ and the Apostles." 
 
 " Then, Florry, your position is untenable, for 
 Romish prelates of the present day do most unques- 
 tionably defend the theory of the annual occurrence 
 of miracles. Bishop , whose intellectual endow- 
 ments are the constant theme of encomiums, has 
 recently visited Italy. On his return to America, 
 he brought with him a valuable collection of relics, 
 which he distributed among the members of his
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. I6/ 
 
 church. Florry, I can vouch for the truth of what 
 I now say. He declared himself extremely fortu- 
 nate in having happened at Naples during the 
 anniversary of the death of St. Janarius. Said he, 
 * I repaired to the place of his martyrdom, and took 
 into my own hand the vial containing the blood of 
 the blessed saint, now decomposed. As the hour 
 rolled around I watched the holy dust in breath- 
 less anxiety; at the appointed moment I perceived 
 a change in its appearance, and while I held the 
 vial in my hand the ashes liquefied and became 
 veritable blood ! while the dark spots on a neighbor- 
 ing stone turned of a deep crimson.' Now the bishop 
 related this miracle far and wide, and priests min- 
 istering at the altar repeated his words to their lis- 
 tening flocks. Sanctioned by the example of their 
 orelates, do you wonder that the ignorant masses of 
 the Romish church should implicity rely upon the 
 intercession of saints, and place unbounded confi- 
 dence in the miraculous powers imputed to relics ? 
 Again, the Manuals placed in the hands of the laity, 
 are compiled under the special supervision of these 
 ecclesiastical professors, who necessarily indorse all 
 we see there advanced. In the Ursuline Manual I 
 find this assertion : ' The Hail Mary was composed in 
 Heaven, dictated by the Holy Ghost, and delivered 
 to the faithful by the Angel Gabriel!' Now, Florry, 
 does not this seem blasphemy, bordering on the 
 absurd ? What conscientious, honest, enlightened 
 Christian would unblushingly defend such a declara- 
 tion ?"
 
 168 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " But, Mary, admitting as you do, that you believe 
 there exist many truly conscientious members of 
 this sect, why indulge your apprehension at the 
 promulgation of its tenets ?" replied Florence. 
 
 " I might answer you, Florry, in the words of 
 Henry IV., who inquired of a celebrated Protestant 
 divine, * if a man might be saved by the Roman 
 Catholic religion ?' ' Undoubtedly,' replied the 
 clergyman, * if his life and heart be holy.' ' Then,' 
 said the' king, ' according to both Catholics and 
 Protestants, I may be saved by the Catholic relig- 
 ion ; but if I embrace your religion, I shall not be 
 saved according to the Catholics.' Thus Henry 
 most unquestionably adjudged Protestants the more 
 tolerant of the two sects. Here, Florry, you have 
 the clew to my anti- Romanism. I fear the exten- 
 sion of papal doctrines, because liberty of conscience 
 was never yet allowed where sufficient power was 
 vested in the Roman Catholic clergy to compel sub- 
 mission. To preserve the balance of power in 
 ecclesiastical affairs is the only aim of Protestants. 
 We but contend for the privilege of placing the Bible 
 in the hands of the masses of flashing the glorious 
 flambeau of truth into the dark recesses of ignor- 
 ance and superstition into the abysmal depths of 
 papal iniquity. Unscrupulously employing every 
 method conducive to the grand end of disseminat- 
 ing Romish dogmas, the fagot, the wheel, and all the 
 secret horrors of the Inquisition, were speedily 
 brought to bear upon all who dared to assume the 
 privilege of worshiping God according to the dictates
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 169 
 
 of an unfettered conscience. If the bloody tragedies 
 of the middle ages are no longer enacted upon the 
 theatre of a more enlightened world, it is because 
 the power so awfully abused has been wrested from 
 the scarlet-robed tenants of the Vatican. The same 
 fierce, intolerable tyranny is still exercised where 
 their jurisdiction is unquestioned. From the admin- 
 istration of the pontifical states of Italy to the regula- 
 tion of convent discipline, we trace the workings of 
 the same iron rule. No barriers are too mighty to 
 be overborne, no distinctions too delicate to be 
 thrust rudely aside. Even the sweet sacredness of 
 the home circle is not exempt from the crushing, 
 withering influence. Ah! how many fair young 
 members of the household band have been decoyed 
 from the hearthstone and immured in gloomy cells. 
 Ah ! how many a widowed parent has mourned over 
 the wreck of all that was beautiful in a cherished 
 daughter, snatched by the hand of bigotry from her 
 warm embrace, and forever incarcerated in monastic 
 gloom. Oh ! tell me, Florry, if compulsory service 
 is acceptable to all-seeing God ? If the warm young 
 heart, beating behind many a convent grate, yearns 
 to burst asunder the iron bands which enthrall her, 
 and, mingling again upon the stage of life to per- 
 form the duties for which she was created, oh', 
 where in holy writ is sanction found for the tyrannical 
 decree which binds her there forever a living sacri- 
 fice ?"
 
 I/O INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 ' Tis the light that tells the dawning 
 
 Of the bright millennial day, 
 
 Heralding its blessed morning, 
 
 With its peace-restoring ray. 
 
 ***** 
 
 . *' Man no more shall seek dominion 
 
 Through a sea of human gore; 
 War shall spread its gloomy pinion 
 O'er the peaceful earth no more." 
 
 Burleigk. 
 
 IT was a dark, tempestuous night in December, 
 and the keen piercing blasts whistled around the 
 corners and swept meaningly across the Plaza. 
 Silence reigned over the town. No sound of life 
 was heard the shout of laughter, the shriek of pain 
 or wail of grief was stilled. The voices of many who 
 had ofttimes hurried along the now silent and de- 
 serted streets were hushed in death. The eventful 
 day had dawned and set, the records of its deeds 
 borne on to God by the many that had fallen. Oh ! 
 when shall the millennium come ? When shall peace 
 and good- will reign throughout the world ? When 
 shall hatred, revenge, and malice die ! When shall 
 the fierce, bitter strife of man with fellow-man be 
 ended ? And oh ! when shall desolating war forever 
 cease, and the bloody records of the past be viewed 
 as monster distortions of a maddened brain ? These
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. I /I 
 
 things shall be when the polity of the world is 
 changed. When statesmen cease their political, and 
 prelates their ecclesiastical intrigues ; when monarch, 
 and noble, and peasant, alike cast selfishness and 
 dissimulation far from them; when the Bible is the 
 text-book of the world, and the Golden Rule observed 
 from pole to pole. 
 
 The nth of December is marked with a white 
 stone in the calendar of the Texans. During the 
 fortnight which elapsed from the engagement of 
 Conception, the Alamo had been closely invested by 
 General Burleson, and brief though bloody struggles 
 almost daily occurred. The besiegers numbered 
 only eight hundred, while the fortress was garrisoned 
 by twenty- five hundred Mexican troops. Yet well- 
 directed valor has ever proved more than a match 
 for numerical superiority. On the morning of the 
 i ith a desperate assault was made, a violent struggle 
 ensued, and ere long victory declared for the " Lone 
 Star." With unutterable chagrin General Cos was 
 forced to dispatch a messenger bearing the white 
 banner of submission to the Texan commander, and 
 night saw the Alamo again in Texan hands, and 
 General Cos and his disheartened band prisoners of 
 war. 
 
 Dr. Bryant had received, during the engagement, 
 a wound in the arm, which he caused to be dressed, 
 and placing the injured member in a sling, strove to 
 soothe the dying and relieve the wounded. Early he 
 dispatched tidings of his safety to his anxious sister, 
 and now devoted himself to the suffering soldiery. 
 Vol. 6 H Evans
 
 172 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 Midnight found him beside the couch of pain, and 
 even as he bent to administer a sedative, a hand was 
 lightly laid on his shoulder. Looking up, Frank 
 perceived the muffled form of a female, though un- 
 able to determine who stood beside him, for the face 
 was entirely concealed by a mantilla. 
 
 " Can I do any thing for you, Seflora ?" 
 
 " Dr. Bryant, will you leave your people here to 
 see a dying Mexican one who fell fighting against 
 you ?" 
 
 " Most assuredly, if I can render relief : but Inez, 
 you should not have ventured here on such an errand ; 
 could no messenger be found ? It was imprudent in 
 you to come at this hour." 
 
 " No matter ; I felt no fear of your people, and 
 mine would not molest me. But I have little time 
 to wait. Mafiuet is sorely wounded: we bore him 
 from the Alamo, and he lies at my father's. Can 
 you do nothing for him ?" 
 
 " I hope it is not too late to render assistance ; we 
 will go immediately." And drawing his cloak orer 
 the wounded arm, he followed her to Don Garcia's. 
 Neither spoke till they reached the threshold; then 
 Frank said: 
 
 " Inez, does Mafiuel know you came for me ?" 
 
 "Yes; he objected at first, but as the pain grew 
 more acute, he begged us to do something for him. 
 I told him there was none to help save you. He 
 frowned a little, but nodded his head, and then I 
 lost no time." 
 
 They entered the apartment of the sufferer, and
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 Inez started at the change which had taken place 
 during her temporary absence. Mafiuel feebly 
 turned his head as the door opened, and his eyes 
 brightened as they rested on Inez. He motioned 
 her to sit beside him, and she complied, lifting his 
 head and carefully leaning it upon her bosom. Dr. 
 Bryant examined the wound, felt the pulse and stoop- 
 ing over him, asked : 
 
 " Nevarro, do you suffer much ?" 
 
 Mafiuel laid his hand on the bleeding side, and 
 feebly inclined his head. 
 
 " Inez, I can only use one hand, will you assist me 
 in binding this wound ?" 
 
 She attempted to rise, but Nevarro clutched her 
 hand and gasped " Too late too late !" 
 
 Resolved to do something, if possible, for his re- 
 lief, Frank beckoned to the Don, who stood near, 
 and with some difficulty they succeeded in passing a 
 bandage round the mouth of the wound. The 
 groans of the dying man caused even the cheek of 
 the fearless Inez to blanch. She who scorned dan- 
 ger, and knew not fear, could not witness without a 
 pang the sufferings of another. She moaned in 
 very sympathy, and stroked gently back the straight 
 raven hair, now clotted with blood. The exertion 
 necessarily made proved fatal; the breathing grew 
 short and painful, the pulse slow and feeble. Ap- 
 pealing was the look which the wounded one bent 
 on Inez ; he strove to utter his wishes, but alas, it was 
 indeed too late. The blood gushed anew from his 
 side, crimsoning bandage and couch, and dyeing
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 Inez's dress. Dr. Bryant took one of the cold hands 
 and pressed it kindly. Manuel opened his eyes, and 
 looked gratefully on one who had at least endeavored 
 to relieve him. Convulsively the fingers closed over 
 his physician's hand; again he turned his face to 
 Inez, and with a groan expired. 
 
 Frank took the lifeless form from her arms, and 
 laying it gently back upon the pillow, closed the eyes 
 forever, and covered the face. 
 
 No words save " Holy Mary !" escaped the Don's 
 lips, as he quitted the room of death. 
 
 Inez's lips quivered, and the convulsive twitching 
 of her features plainly indicated her grief at this 
 mournful parting with the playmate of her youth 
 with her affianced husband. Yet the large dark 
 eyes were undimmed; and her tone calm, as though 
 the " King of Terrors " were not there in all his 
 gloom. 
 
 " Inez, I sympathize with you in this affliction, and 
 sincerely regret that the fatal wound was inflicted by 
 one of my nation. Yet the past is irretrievable, 
 though painful, and many are, like you, bereft of 
 friends and relatives. Inez, in your hours of gloom 
 and sadness can you not think of your reunion with 
 Mafiuel, where death and parting are unknown ?" 
 
 She had averted her head, and a look of unutter- 
 able bitterness rested on the pale, stern face. 
 
 " I thank you for coming, though you could not 
 give Mafiuel relief. It was good and kind in you 
 to try, and none but Frank Bryant would have 
 done it : again I thank you. I shall not forget this
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 175 
 
 night, and you, Sefior, shall be requited. I trust 
 you are not suffering with your arm; why is it 
 bound up ?" And she laid her hand softly on it. 
 
 " I received a slight though rather painful wound 
 during the engagement, and placed it in a sling for 
 convenience and relief; but, Inez, it is well-nigh day, 
 see how the stars are waning. You need rest, so 
 good-night, or rather morning; I will see you again 
 to-morrow." And Frank sought his sister, knowing 
 full well her anxiety, and wishing speedily to allay it. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 " Where is the place of meeting ? 
 At what hour rises the moon ? 
 I repair to what ? to hold a council in the dark 
 With common ruffians leagued to ruin states I" 
 
 Byron. 
 
 THE fierce storm of war had swept over the town, 
 and quiet seemed succeeding. No sound of strife 
 disturbed the stillness which settled around. Many 
 had fallen, and the grass began to bud on the grave 
 of Mafluel; no tear moistened the sod beneath which 
 he rested. Inez often stood beside the newly-raised 
 mound with folded arms, and a desolate, weary look 
 on her beautiful features, which too plainly indicated 
 a longing to sleep near Win. Yet she never wept; 
 for her love for Nevarro had been that of a cousin,
 
 176 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 perhaps not so fervent. Still, now that his steps no 
 longer echoed at their door, and his deep voice 
 sounded not again on her ear, a lonely feeling stole 
 into her heart, and often she crept from her dreary 
 home and sought the church-yard. 
 
 Christmas had come and gone ; a joyless season to 
 many saddened hearts accustomed to hail it with 
 delight. The cousins had returned to their home, 
 and were busily arranging their yard, and making 
 some alterations for the New Year. Florence had 
 begun of late to grow cheerful again, and Mary 
 watched, with silent joy, the delicate tinge come 
 back to her marble cheek. She seemed very calm, 
 and almost hopeful; and the spirit of peace descended 
 and rested on their hearth. Only one cause of sor- 
 row remained Mary's declining health: yet she 
 faded so gently, and almost painlessly, that their 
 fears were ofttimes lulled. 
 
 Dr. Bryant was still engaged in nursing the 
 wounded, and only came occasionally, regretting 
 often that it was not in his power to see them more 
 frequently. A change had come over him of late; 
 the buoyancy of his spirits seemed broken, and his 
 gay tone of raillery was hushed; the bright, happy 
 look of former days was gone, and a tinge of sadness 
 was sometimes perceptible on his handsome face. 
 Mrs. Carlton had spoken on her last visit of Frank's 
 departure. She said she hoped he would return 
 soon, as his business required attention at home. 
 He would not leave, however, as long as his services 
 were in requisition.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 177 
 
 One Sabbath morning Inez attended mass some, 
 thing unusual for her of late, for since Nevarro's 
 death she had secluded herself as much as possible. 
 She knelt in her accustomed place, with covered 
 head, seemingly rapt in devotion, but the eyes 
 rested with an abstracted expression on the wall 
 beside her: her thoughts were evidently wandering 
 from her rosary, and now and then the black brows 
 met as her forehead wrinkled ; still the fingers slid 
 with mechanical precision up and down the string of 
 beads. The services were brief, and the few who 
 had assembled quietly departed. As Inez rose to 
 go, the Padre, who was hastening down the aisle, 
 was stopped by a Mexican in the garb of a trader. 
 They stood quite near, and the hoarse whisper of 
 the latter fell on her listening ear. 
 
 " Meet me at the far end of the Alameda, when 
 the moon rises to-night." 
 
 " I will be there before you : is there any good 
 news ?" 
 
 A finger was laid on the lip, and a significant nod 
 and wink were not lost upon the maiden, who, bow- 
 ing low before the Padre, walked slowly away. The 
 day wore on, much as Sabbaths ordinarily do, yet to 
 her it seemed as though darkness would never fall 
 again, and many times she looked out on the shadows 
 cast by the neighboring houses athwart the street. 
 Twilight closed at last, and having placed her 
 father's evening meal before him, she cautiously 
 gazed down the narrow alley, and perceiving no one 
 stirring, sallied forth. The stars gave a faint light,
 
 178 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 and she hurried on toward the bridge : swift was her 
 step, yet noiseless, and she glided on like a being 
 from another world, so stealthy were her movements. 
 The bridge was gained at length and almost passed, 
 when she descried in the surrounding gloom a dark 
 figure approaching from the opposite direction. 
 Closer she drew the mantle about her form, and 
 slackened her rapid pace. They met, and the 
 stranger paused and bent eagerly forward: 
 
 " Who goes there ?" 
 
 The voice was well known. Inez's heart gave a 
 quick bound, and she answered : 
 
 "Inez de Garcia!" 
 
 " Why, where are you roaming to this dark night, 
 Inez ? Are you not afraid to venture out alone and 
 so far from home ?" 
 
 " No, Doctor, I have no fears; I was never a 
 coward, you know; and besides, who would harm 
 me, an unoffending woman ? Surely your people 
 will not molest me ?" 
 
 " No, certainly not. But, Inez, I hope you are 
 not bending your steps toward the Alamo ?" 
 
 " I am a friend to the Americans, though they 
 have taken the last of my family there was to give. 
 Yet I will be true to Mary and to you. Fear noth- 
 ing for me and let me pass on my errand." 
 
 He stood aside. " Buefio noche, Sefiorita." 
 
 " Buefio noche;" and she glided on. " I fear I 
 have lost time;" and hastily glancing toward the 
 east, she saw a faint light stealing up from the hori- 
 zon. Redoubling her speed she pushed on, but,
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 179 
 
 despite her efforts, the moon rose with uncommon 
 brilliance as she approached the place of rendezvous, 
 and soon every object was bathed in a flood of light. 
 
 The Alameda, which she had just entered, was a 
 long double row of majestic cotton-woods, which, 
 stretching out in the direction of the Powder- House, 
 was the favorite promenade with the inhabitants of 
 the town. Previous to the breaking out of the war 
 numbers were to be seen here every afternoon, 
 some walking, others playing games, another group 
 dancing, and the graver portion of the company 
 resting on the rude seats supplied for the purpose. 
 But their favorite resort was blood-stained, for the 
 Alameda was the battle-field in the late desperate 
 conflict, and the smooth surface was torn and 
 trampled by the stamp of prancing cavalry. Dark 
 spots were still visible, that were yet damp with gore. 
 Just to the west rose the grim walls of the fort, dis- 
 tinctly seen through the opening between the trees. 
 Beyond where the avenue ceased, stood a low irregu- 
 lar building of stone, thatched with tule. 
 
 Inez stood at the threshold and listened intently. 
 The place bore a desolate air, and neither sound nor 
 light betokened the presence of a human being. It 
 had long been uninhabited, and some declared it 
 was haunted, so that the Padre had some time before 
 sprinkled holy water profusely about, in order to 
 drive away the evil one. 
 
 Cautiously Inez tried the fastening; it swerved 
 not beneath her firm, strong grasp. She shook it 
 slightly; a hollow echo answered back. Entrance
 
 ISO INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 was impossible ; and even as she lingered irresolute, 
 the sound of approaching steps was borne to her 
 listening ears by the night wind. What should she 
 do ? Without a moment's hesitation she glided 
 swiftly to a cluster of chapperal, and crouched low 
 among its thorny branches. Inez had scarcely 
 secreted herself, when the figure of a man, directing 
 his steps to the house she had just left, warned her 
 to keep quiet. He stood still a moment, then 
 knocked. Drearily the knock resounded through 
 the empty building. Again was the signal for ad- 
 mission given, but no response greeted the anxious 
 tympanums. 
 
 " Why in the name of twenty devils don't you open 
 the door >" and he shook it violently: still no answer. 
 
 " I swear I'll batter it down, and stretch you on 
 it to boot, if you don't let me in. Why do you keep 
 me waiting ? I am too late already." 
 
 " Nay, nay; restrain your impatience," said a voice 
 behind him. 
 
 " By the saints, you are come in good time, Padre. 
 I had well-nigh made a soldier's entrance." 
 
 " No need of violence, Sefior. Why could not you 
 wait in Christian patience ?" 
 
 " Look here, my good friend. I come not all the 
 way from Mexico to listen to a lecture ; and you will 
 do well to save your canting for a better time and a 
 worse man. So, Mazzolin, just open the door of this 
 .cursed den." 
 
 Roused by the bold language of the stranger, the 
 Padre, though anxious to learn his errand, was still
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. I8l 
 
 true to his policy, and could in no measure compro- 
 mise the dignity of his person. 
 
 " There is no obligation resting on me to do so 
 against my will, and no man shall bully or threaten 
 me, a priest of our holy church." He had partially 
 opened the door, but closed it again. 
 
 Enraged beyond degree, the soldier grasped what 
 little collar was afforded by the habit he wore. 
 
 " You infernal, canting hypocrite ! I swear by 
 Cortes 111 kick you to a jelly I'll bastinade you till 
 you won't know the Virgin from the Devil, if you 
 don't instantly let me in, and keep your lying tongue 
 in your Jesuit head. Think you to gull me with 
 your holy talk ? I know you all : you are a blessed, 
 holy brotherhood, truly. Have I not seen your 
 letters to Mexico, you canting scoundrel ?" He shook 
 the Padre violently as he delivered this benediction. 
 
 Now Father Mazzolin, like many of his sex, was 
 fond of supporting his dignity, and reverence for his 
 sacred person was especially inculcated by his teach- 
 ings. Yet when firmly met his threats melted away, 
 and, to all appearances, his choler too; for he knew 
 full well when to succumb and when to oppose bel- 
 ligerent demonstrations. The expression of rage 
 that darkened the face of the soldier, left no doubt 
 that he would execute his threat if further opposed. 
 And Father Mazzolin, fully satisfied that the organ 
 of reverence was altogether omitted in his cranium, 
 thought it best to comply. 
 
 " Ha ! you can understand Irish logic as well as
 
 1 82 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 the next brave one." And he entered, followed by 
 the Padre, who ground his teeth with mortification. 
 
 An hour later they stood again on the threshold in 
 earnest converse, not perceiving the dark form which 
 fled, on the reopening of the door, to the old hiding- 
 place. They turned to go in different directions: 
 the stranger stopped, and calling to the Padre, desired 
 him to keep well the secret, and in no way divulge 
 a breath of their conference. 
 
 " It could not be in safer hands," was answered 
 back, and they parted. 
 
 A low, bitter laugh escaped Inez's lips as, waiting 
 tiH it was safe to venture forth, she rose from the 
 chapperal and hastened homeward. 
 
 " Padre, cunning though you are, we are well 
 mated, there are few like unto you and me." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 **I simply tell thee peril is at hand, 
 And would preserve thee I" 
 
 Byron. 
 
 Two days later the cousins sat in their front 
 room, Florence intently reading, Mary watching 
 beside the couch of pain, bathing her aunt's brow, 
 and chafing the hands. Aunt Lizzy was suffering 
 from violent nervous headache: aH day she had
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. I?3 
 
 tossed restlessly about, and now, soothed by the 
 gentle touches on her brow, had fallen asleep. Her 
 fingers had tightly clasped Mary's small, thin hands, 
 but gradually relaxing their hold, sunk beside her. 
 Softly smoothing back the disordered hair, the young 
 nurse failed to perceive the entrance of Dr. Bryant, 
 and only looked up when a beautiful bouquet of 
 flowers was laid upon her lap. The feverish glow 
 deepened on her cheek as she warmly thanked him. 
 
 "*I am glad you like them, Miss Irving." 
 '*How could I do otherwise ?" 
 
 " My bunch is equally beautiful," cried Florence, 
 holding it up for inspection. " Pray, Doctor, how 
 came you so thoroughly acquainted with our differ- 
 ent tastes ? You have selected admirably." 
 
 " I am gratified at succeeding so happily in my ar- 
 rangement of them. But I hope your aunt is not 
 seriously indisposed ?" 
 
 " No, merely a bad nervous attack, to which she 
 is subject." 
 
 " Miss Mary, as you are free from apprehension 
 on her account, can you take a short ride this even- 
 ing? I have a gentle horse at the gate, and if you 
 will trust yourself with me, I think a good canter 
 will benefit you exceedingly : will you go?" 
 
 Mary sought Florence's eye; it brightened with 
 pleasure. 
 
 "Certainly, Mary; why do you hesitate? I am 
 very glad Dr. Bryant suggested it ; I will take good 
 care of aunt, and the ride will doubtless benefit 
 you."
 
 1 84 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " You are very kind, Doctor; I will only detain 
 you while I change my dress." And she withdrew. 
 
 " Don't you think she looked much better to- 
 day ?" asked Florence anxiously, as her cousin ieft 
 the room. 
 
 " She has certainly more color, but I am afraid it 
 is only a feverish glow. Let me entreat you, Miss 
 Hamilton, to watch over her with the greatest care: 
 the slightest exposure might cause a return of that 
 terrible cough, and in her feeble state I fear for the 
 consequences." 
 
 ' She has grown very, very thin, within the last 
 month ; but then, when warm weather comes again, 
 I doubt not she will grow rosy and strong once 
 more." They both sighed heavily, as though against 
 conviction each had striven to cheer the other. 
 
 Mary re-entered the room equipped for her ride, 
 and now, for the first time, Florence thought her 
 cousin beautiful. Beneath her straw hat floated 
 back from her fair face a luxuriant mass of brown 
 curls; a bright blush mantled the delicate cheek, 
 and the gentle blue eyes seemed unusually large 
 and brilliant. A smile dimpled round her lip as she 
 met the fond glance bent upon her. Florence ten- 
 derly clasped her hand a moment, then kissed her 
 warmly, and bade Dr. Bryant take all care of her. 
 He promised to do so, and soon they had passed be- 
 yond her sight. They rode slowly, lest Mary should 
 be too much fatigued ; and often the eyes of her 
 companion rested on the frail but lovely being by 
 his side.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 185 
 
 " Which way shall we ride ?" 
 
 44 If you have no preference, suppose we go to 
 San Pedro ?" 
 
 *You could not have selected more in accord- 
 ance with my own wishes." 
 
 A long silence ensued, broken only by the clatter 
 of their horses' hoofs along the gravel path. 
 
 " The prospect of leaving forever these "beautiful 
 environs, which I have so often admired, fills me 
 with inexpressible regret. My heart clings to San 
 Antonio, though my residence here has been very 
 brief!*' said Dr. Bryant, sadly. 
 
 ** Do you go to return no more ?" asked Mary, 
 with averted head. 
 
 *' Yes, most probably I shall never see this place 
 again ; for I wish to visit Europe so soon as my bus- 
 iness affairs are arranged at home, and on my re- 
 turn, shall devote myself to my profession." He 
 fixed his eyes earnestly on her face as he spoke. 
 
 Slowly the head drooped, till the hat concealed her 
 features. 
 
 " We shall miss you very much when you are gone. 
 Florry and I feel deeply grateful for your continued 
 kindness, and never no, never shall we forget your 
 care of my uncle." 
 
 " Take care take care ; you are dropping your 
 reins." 
 
 He gathered them up, and replaced them in her 
 hand. 
 
 " Thank you; I had quite forgotten them." 
 
 " Do you not think it would b* best for you and
 
 1 86 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 Florence to return to your friends in Louisiana ? 
 This is an unpleasant home for you." 
 
 " It was my uncle's wish that we should remain 
 here, and I know Florry would not consent to leave | 
 unless some danger threatened. We have learned 
 to love San Antonio more dearly than any other 
 place, except our old home;" replied Mary, ear- 
 nestly. 
 
 " By-the-by, I had almost forgotten to mention that 
 I have had a letter from an old friend, who in- 
 quired very particularly after you -Dudley Stew- 
 art ; you knew him, I think, in New Orleans. His 
 letter is dat ed six months ago ; but I am happy to 
 receive it at all duringthese unsettled times." 
 
 " We heard of his marriage," said Mary, in a low 
 tone, as the image of Florence rose before her. 
 
 " His marriage! Oh, no! you must be mistaken. 
 He would most certainly have mentioned it, for we 
 are old and intimate friends." 
 
 " It was reported that he had married his cousin." 
 
 " Ah! is that all ? I am not much surprised that 
 you should have heard that, for before I left home 
 it was quite current. His widowed mother was very 
 anxious to make the match ; but Stewart assured me 
 he would never comply with her wishes, as he had 
 fully resolved never to wed a woman he did not ten- 
 derly love; and though quite pretty, Ellen is not 
 sufficiently intellectual to attract such a man." 
 
 " Are you quite sure of this, Dr. Bryant ?" said 
 Mary, in a quick, eager tone. 
 
 " Certainly; I had it from his own lips."
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 1 87 
 
 " Oh! I " She stopped short, and her cheek 
 crimsoned, as she met the piercing glance of his dark 
 eye bent upon her face. Her small hands trembled 
 so that the reins quivered, and she closed her eyes 
 for a moment, while the glow fled from her cheeks, 
 leaving them pale as marble. 
 
 He caught her hand, and steadied her in her sad- 
 dle. 
 
 " Forgive my inattention, Miss Irving, you are not 
 strong enough to extend your ride. Your face is 
 very pale, and you look fatigued." 
 
 " Yes, let us go home home." Her voice was 
 low and faltering, and she with difficulty restrained 
 the tears which sprung to her eyes. 
 
 They turned their horses' heads, and neither at- 
 tempted to remove the restraint which both expe- 
 rienced. They entered the town, and then seeing 
 her hands glide quickly to her side, he gently said : 
 
 " I am afraid we are riding too fast for you." 
 
 Her lips writhed for a moment with acute pain; 
 but with a faint smile, which touched him with its 
 sadness, she replied: 
 
 " I am better now the pain has almost left me. 
 I am very sorry to trouble you so much, Dr. Bry- 
 ant." 
 
 " Trouble !" he murmured, as if communing with 
 his own heart. " I see yon do not know me, nor 
 ever will; for none have truly read my soul or sym- 
 pathized." A look of bitterness passed over his 
 face, and a sterner expression rested there than 
 Mary had ever marked before. She knew not what
 
 1 88 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 to reply, for she could not comprehend the change, 
 and even as she pondered, he pointed to the western 
 sky, and, much in his usual tone, asked: 
 
 " Don't you think the sunsets here exceed any you 
 ever beheld elsewhere?" 
 
 " In brilliancy they certainly do. Yet I love still 
 better the soft tints which often linger till the stars 
 come out. I think they blend and harmonize more 
 beautifully with the deep blue of the zenith than any 
 I have seen before, and I have watched sunsets 
 from my childhood." 
 
 " You are right ; I have noticed in more northern 
 latitudes a very perceptible difference in the appear- 
 ance of the firmament. The moon, for instance, on 
 cold, clear nights, presents a silvery, glittering disc, 
 but the soft mellow light of a southern clime is 
 wanting." 
 
 While he spoke, the figure of a woman emerged 
 from a house near by, and, softly approaching Mary's 
 horse, laid her finger on her lips, and, pressing a 
 piece of paper into her hand, returned as silently as 
 she came. Dr. Bryant turned his head toward 
 Mary as he finished speaking, and, catching a glimpse 
 of the retreating form, looked inquiringly at her. 
 
 " I believe it was Inez, though the face was 
 entirely concealed. She did not speak, but gave 
 me this paper," and Mary unrolled the note. 
 
 " MARINITA, 
 
 " Santa Anna has crossed the Rio Grande with 
 eight thousand men. I warn you of your danger.
 
 INEZ ; A TALB OF THE ALAMO. 189 
 
 You can get horses now, for the Padre can not con- 
 trol your people. There are brave men in the 
 Alamo, tell them of their danger. Again I say, fly 
 quickly from San Antonio. INEZ." 
 
 With a groan, Mary handed him the paper. In 
 silence he perused and returned it to her. 
 
 " Tell me, was it Inez who warned you before ?" 
 
 " Yes, she told me we incurred unknown dangers 
 by remaining here." He mused for several mo- 
 ments. 
 
 " Ah ! I can understand it all now. Several nights 
 ago, returning from the Alamo, I met her on the 
 bridge alone; she seemed excited, I thought, and 
 impatient at meeting me, for I questioned her ram- 
 bling so late." 
 
 " Inez is a warm friend, and what she advises I 
 feel almost bound to do, for she is not timid, and 
 only real danger rouses her apprehension." 
 
 " Eight thousand men ! and not two hundred to 
 man the Alamo. Inez is right; this is not a proper 
 place for you. We will go, as we once decided, to 
 Washington ; and when you are in safety, I will re- 
 turn and lend my efforts to the feeble garrison." 
 
 They reached the gate, and he gently lifted the 
 frail form from the saddle ; and, drawing her arm 
 through his led her to the house. As they entered, 
 he bent his head and said, in a low tone: 
 
 " Tell me candidly, are you able to undergo the 
 fatigue incident to this journey? I fear you are 
 not."
 
 INEZ i A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " Yes, I shall perhaps grow stronger; at any rate, 
 if you do not change your mind, let no fears for me 
 influence you." 
 
 When leaving, he said it was probable that all 
 would be in readiness for their departure within a 
 couple of days, as he wished to see them secure, and 
 then return. 
 
 " Mrs. Carlton will accompany us when she learns 
 this terrible news ?" said Mary, inquiringly. 
 
 " Oh yes; I can not consent for her to remain, and 
 besides, Mr. Carlton has been anxious for some time 
 regarding his family." 
 
 Florence, having read the note, fully approved 
 their promptly removing, and all necessary prepara- 
 tions were made for immediate departure. 
 
 Mary longed inexpressibly to impart to her cousin 
 what she had learned respecting Mr. Stewart, but 
 shrank instinctively from reviving hopes which 
 might never be realized hopes which Florence had 
 long since crushed and cast out of her heart as dead. 
 With an earnest prayer that her cousin might yet be 
 blessed and happy, Mary determined not to broach 
 the subject, at least for a time. Dr. Byrant without 
 delay apprised the garrison of the rumor which had 
 reached him, and a courier was immediately dis- 
 patched to head-quarters for reinforcements suffi- 
 cient to defend this important fortress this key of 
 the state from the powerful force now advancing 
 to assault it. Horses were supplied with alacrity, for 
 he had made many and warm friends, and two large 
 tents, together with a baggage- wagon, were readily
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. igi 
 
 granted to one who so nobly contributed to the relief 
 of the sick, wounded and dying. 
 
 At length every arrangement was completed, and 
 the next morning appointed for their departure. 
 Aunt Lizzy had objected at first, but speedily be- 
 came reconciled when Dr. Bryant painted, in a 
 graphic manner, the horrors which were about to 
 ensue. 
 
 As the shades of evening came gently on, the girls 
 set out for Mrs. Carlton's, as from her dwelling they 
 commenced their journey. Aunt "Lizzy remained to 
 give some final direction, and then came a sorrowful 
 parting with their servants, one of whom took Mary 
 in her arms and bade God bless her, while the tears 
 rolled over her wrinkled face. Mary could not re- 
 press her own, and she sobbed convulsively. Dr. 
 Bryant, who had come over for them, laid his hand 
 on the shoulder of the true-hearted negress, and 
 said: 
 
 " Why, Aunt Fanny, you must not excite Miss 
 Irving ; she is not strong, you know, and has a long 
 ride before her to-morrow." 
 
 " Oh yes, Doctor, it will do well enough for you 
 to tell me not to cry, but I can't help it, for I love 
 her as if she was my own child, and if I thought to 
 see her again I should not grieve so much ; but I 
 saw her mother before her, and I know how she 
 grew pale and thin, and then took to the sofa, and 
 never rose up till she was carried to her grave ; and 
 can't I see that blessed child going just like her? 
 Oh! it's no use talking to me; she ain't long for this
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 world, and it's hard yes it's hard for her to die 
 away from old Fanny !" and she covered her face 
 with her apron, and sobbed alond. 
 
 Mary wiped her own tears quickly away, and tak- 
 ing the hand of her old friend, led her back to the 
 kitchen. For several moments her companions 
 waited anxiously for her; and soon she advanced 
 slowly to meet them. Frank drew her arm through 
 his, and sadly they walked away. Passing the gate, 
 Mary paused and looked out on the river, where she 
 had so often sat at this hour; and sad though sweet 
 associations, infinite in number, crowded upon her 
 mind. 
 
 How calm and beautiful all nature seemed, as 
 though arrayed in its loveliest garb to claim her 
 affection, that, in after years, the memory of that 
 western home might steal gently up amidst surround- 
 ing gloom, to charm away the anguish of some bitter 
 hour, and soothe the saddened spirit. Her heart 
 was inexpressibly touched, and she averted her 
 head to conceal the expression of keen sorrow which 
 rested on her face. 
 
 " This view of the San Antonio has often struck 
 me as particularly fine," said Dr. Bryant, turning to 
 Florence, whose pale cheek alone attested regret at 
 leaving her home. 
 
 "Yes, I know none superior; and our favorite 
 ramble was along this bank, and down the river 
 side." 
 
 " Its windings are multitudinous, yet how grace- 
 ful every curve: and then, the deep blue of its
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 193 
 
 waters adds not a little to the beauty of the whole. 
 But we have not leisure to admire it now, for your 
 cousin must not be chilled, and the wind blows 
 freshly from the north." 
 
 He stepped on as he spoke, but feeling the small 
 hands clasped over his arm, looked earnestly down 
 into the pale face at his side. Mary was bend- 
 ing a last, long look on house and tree and river; 
 as they walked on the different objects passed be- 
 yond her view, and then a faint moan escaped her 
 lips. She met the anxious gaze of her friend, and 
 replied to its silent questioning: 
 
 " Forgive what doubtless seems a great weakness. 
 You and Florry cannot sympathize with me now. 
 You will both return ere long, but my eyes have 
 rested for the last time on each loved object. I 
 have dreaded this parting from the home that has 
 grown so dear to me but the pang is over." 
 
 Her deep blue eyes rested on his face, and touch- 
 ingly sad was the expression, as she swept back the 
 clustering hair from her brow. The lips quivered, 
 as of late they often did when she was excited. 
 Florence did not hear her words, for she had crossed 
 the street; but Frank's heart throbbed violently as 
 he listened to her low, sad tone. Laying his hand 
 on hers, that were tightly clasped, he pressed them 
 gently, and said, in a slightly faltering voice: 
 
 " For Florence's sake for mine for your own ? 
 do not give way to such gloomy forebodings ! Your 
 depressed spirits will act injuriously on your health. 
 Let me beg you to place no confidence in Aunt
 
 194 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 Fanny's words at parting; she was herself scarce 
 conscious of their import." 
 
 " I have no gloomy forebodings, no apprehension 
 of the future, and generally no depressed spirits; 
 but I know full well that my life is gradually wast- 
 ing away, slowly, gently, and almost without pain. 
 I am sinking to an early tomb. Yet I would not 
 have it otherwise if I could. Death has long since 
 lost all terrors for me ; I have no fear all is peace 
 and quiet. I am paining you. Forgive me, Dr. 
 Bryant; but knowing that you and Florry were anx- 
 ious about me I thought it best to tell you that I 
 am fully aware of my danger, if so I can term what 
 I would not avert." 
 
 A shudder crept over the strong man as he looked 
 down at the calm, colorless face of her who spoke 
 so quietly of death, and of quitting forever the 
 scenes she loved so truly. 
 
 " I cannot will not believe you are so ill. You will 
 grow stronger when we leave this place, and a year 
 hence, when quite well again, you will beg pardon 
 for the pain you have given me." 
 
 A faint smile played round the thin lips, and in 
 silence they proceeded to Mrs. Carlton's.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 19$ 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 " Who's here besides foul weather ?" 
 
 Shakspeare, 
 
 FAR away stretched the prairie, bounded, ocean- 
 like, only by the horizon; the monotony occasionally 
 relieved by clumps of aged live oaks, which tossed 
 their branches to and fro in summer breezes and in 
 wintry blasts, and lent a mournful cadence to the 
 howlings of the tempest. Now and then a herd of 
 deer, lifting proudly their antlered heads, seemed to 
 scorn danger from the hand of man, as they roamed 
 so freely over the wide, desolate waste which pos- 
 sessed no visible limits. And groups of cattle, start- 
 ing at the slightest sound, tossed their horns in de- 
 fiance, and browsed along the mesquit, in many 
 places so luxuriant as well-nigh to conceal their 
 forms. The day had been unusually warm for Jan- 
 uary, and the sun beamed down with a sickening 
 intensity which made the blood tingle in the veins. 
 Toward noon the sky assumed a dull, leaden cast, 
 and light flakes of cloud, like harbingers of evil, 
 scudded ominously overhead. The sun passed the 
 zenith, and a low sighing breeze swept meaningly 
 across the wide waste, even as the wail of lost spirits 
 floats out on the midnight air, and then is hushed 
 forever. 
 
 The cattle that stood leisurely cropping about, 
 and now and then moving a few paces, lifted their 
 Vol. 6 I Evan*
 
 196 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 heads, snuffed the air, and, with a simultaneous low- 
 ing, started at full speed to the timbered tracks, 
 where they were wont to resort for shelter from the 
 winds of winter. On, on they rushed, till in the dis- 
 tance one might fancy them a quantity of beetles, or 
 other insects, dotting the surface before them. Soon 
 not a vestige remained of the flying herd, and happy 
 it was for them they made good their retreat, and 
 gained a place of refuge ere the " norther " burst in 
 all its keenness on the unprotected plain. Wildly 
 the piercing blasts whistled through the trees, and 
 rushed furiously on, unimpeded by the forest, which 
 in more eastern lands present a formidable barrier 
 to their progress. The rain began to fall heavily, 
 when a small cavalcade sought the protection of a 
 clump of oaks, by placing the leafy boughs between 
 themselves and the beating, driving torrents. The 
 party consisted of several ladies and gentlemen, two 
 children, and as many servants! the latter in a 
 wagon, the remainder on horseback. With all pos- 
 sible speed the gentlemen dismounted, and, tightly 
 buttoning their great coats about them, proceeded 
 to stretch two tents, by means of poles and pins, 
 carried in the wagon. 
 
 Night closed in, and finding a sheltered spot 
 beneath the trees, a large fire was kindled, which 
 threw its ruddy light into the surrounding tents, and 
 illumined the'entire grove. The horses were picketed 
 out, almost within reach from the tents, and the 
 wagon containing their stores drawn so near as, in 
 some degree, to shelter them. The servants pre-
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 197 
 
 pared the evening meal simple, it is true, yet en- 
 joyed far more than a sumptuous repast of Indian 
 delicacies and untold ragouts, eaten without the 
 sauce of hunger produced by their long ride. More 
 than a week had elapsed since leaving San Antonio, 
 and Mary had borne better than they dared to hope 
 the fatigue of the journey. 
 
 To-night, however, she lay exhausted on her pallet, 
 the thin cheek bright with fever : gently she declined 
 all that was proffered, and her hollow cough chased 
 the smile from the lips of her friends. Dr. Bryant 
 knelt beside her, and taking one hot hand in his 
 own, asked, in a low, anxious voice, if she suffered. 
 
 Turning away her face, she said " Oh no, not 
 much. There is, however, such a painful throbbing 
 about my heart I can scarcely breathe. Am I not 
 feverish ? " she continued. 
 
 "Yes;" and he placed his fingers on the pulse, 
 beating violently. " I am afraid you have taken 
 severe cold the day has been so inclement." And, 
 with a somewhat unsteady hand, he administered a 
 potion. 
 
 " Don't feel uneasy about me, Doctor, I shall be 
 better when I sleep." And she turned away, and 
 wearily closed her eyes. 
 
 When the camp-fire burned low, and all slumbered 
 save Mary, who could not calm her feverish excite- 
 ment, and lay wide awake, she fancied she heard 
 steps around the tent. All was silent ; then again 
 came the sound ; and raising herself, she thought 
 she perceived some one standing near the entrance.
 
 198 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 The figure disappeared, and then followed a rum- 
 bling, stamping, kicking, as though the horses were 
 verily bewitched. " The Indians!" thought Mary; 
 and quickly rising, she threw a black mantle round 
 her, and creeping to the door of the tent, peeped 
 out. The horses still seemed restless, stamping and 
 snorting, and she thought she could softly reach the 
 adjoining tent and rouse the gentlemen, knowing 
 that their arms were in readiness. She had just 
 stepped out of her own tent, and stood out of doors, 
 when she caught a glimpse of a dark, muffled figure 
 walking toward her. The rain had ceased, but it 
 was very dark, and only by the aid of the fire-light, 
 now grown dim, she perceived it. A cold shudder 
 crept over her, as, raising her eyes to the blackened 
 sky but an instant, she sprang forward toward the 
 place where she fancied the gentlemen were sleep- 
 ing. A hand was laid on her arm and a deep voice 
 sounded in her ear : 
 . " Be not alarmed, Miss Mary, I am here!" 
 
 She trembled so that she could scarcely stand. 
 He supported her a moment, ere she replied in a 
 whisper 
 
 " What causes the disturbance to-night ?" 
 " I feel assured there are Indians about, though 
 you need fear nothing, for they are not in sufficient 
 number to attack us. There are four men in our 
 party nearly a dozen muskets, besides my pistols, 
 and plenty of ammunition. Were you one of the 
 timid sort, I should not venture to tell you my ap- 
 prehensions: but I know that you are not. I have
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 199 
 
 not slept, or even lain down; and a while ago, I 
 heard the sound of hoofs approaching. Taking my 
 pistols, I went ronnd to the horses, and had not 
 waited many moments before I saw two figures, evi- 
 dently reconnoitring and planning the abduction of 
 our horses, who seemed much alarmed. I suppose 
 the intruders must have seen me, for they suddenly 
 wheeled off and galloped away." 
 
 " Perhaps there is a party not far distant, for 
 whose assistance they have o^one." 
 
 M Possibly, though I think not ; but you must not 
 stand on this wet ground." He led her to the tent, 
 and seating himself near the door, continued: 
 
 " I shall not sleep to-night, and rest assured you 
 will be most carefully guarded. You were imprudent 
 to venture out on such a night." 
 
 " What ! when I thought there was danger, and 
 none, save myself, aware of it ?" 
 
 " Did you think I could rest, knowing, as I do, 
 how you are suffering ?" 
 
 44 1 never imagined you were up, or watching, for 
 I heard no sound near me." 
 
 " Well, no matter; sleep, if y. u can, and dream of 
 peace, and quiet, and perfect happiness." He sighed 
 heavily as he spoke, and rising, renewed the fire. 
 
 Mary lay watching him as he paced to and fro in 
 front of the burning logs his arms folded across his 
 chest, and his cap drawn ov r the brow: gradually 
 a sense of utter weariness stole over her, and she 
 slept. 
 
 At dawn a bustle commenced in the camp, and
 
 200 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 preparation were made first for breakfast, then for 
 moving. 
 
 When Mary came out, her pale face and wearied 
 look attracted Mrs. Carlton's attention. 
 
 "My dear child, I am afraid you are scarcely able 
 to travel to-day ; did you not sleep well ?" 
 
 "Not so soundly as I could have wished," she said, 
 passing her hand over her brow, as if to remove 
 some painful thought. 
 
 Dr. Bryant acquainted them with the adventure 
 of the night, suggesting, that in future some of the 
 party should watch, as security for their horses ; and 
 all agreed that it was advisable. 
 
 "How readily one might suppose this a gypsy en- 
 campment. Miss Hamilton and myself are quite 
 dark enough to favor the illusion, and Ellen and Mr. 
 Carlton would pass as of gypsy descent; but what 
 would they think of Miss Mary? She is decidedly 
 anti-gypsy in her appearance." 
 
 "I can tell you, Uncle Frank," cried Elliot, clap- 
 ping his hands ; "they would take Miss Mary for an 
 angel that came to our tent, like the one that came 
 down to see Abraham." 
 
 "Unfortunately, angels never appear in the form 
 of a lady, Elliot ; so you must tax your ingenuity to 
 dispose of me in a different manner," said Mary, 
 smiling gently on the noble boy beside her. 
 
 "Indeed, I would sooner think you ought to be an 
 angel than any gentleman I know, or lady either; 
 "don't you think so too, Uncle Frank?" 
 
 "Certainly I do ; but, Elliot, you should not have
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 2OI 
 
 made me say so in Miss Florence's presence. You 
 forget that she is also a young lady." 
 
 " No, I don't, uncle, and I ask her pardon if I was 
 rude ; but I heard you say Miss Mary was an angel, 
 and though I like Miss Florence very much indeed, 
 I can't help thinking so too." 
 
 Dr. Bryant's cheek flushed, and he glanced quickly 
 at Mary. Mr. and Mrs. Carlton and Florence 
 laughed good-naturedly; and laying his hand on the 
 boy's head, Frank said: 
 
 " My very promising nephew, you will never be 
 accused of want of candor if you grow up in your 
 present spirit." 
 
 Mary drew the child to her, and whispered in his 
 ear: 
 
 " Your uncle meant that I should soon be in 
 Heaven, Elliot ; and I hope it will not be very long 
 before I am an angel. Don't you see how thin and 
 pale I am ?" 
 
 Elliot's eyes filled, as he looked earnestly at the 
 gentle girl, so wasted of late, and throwing his arms 
 about her neck, he hid his face on her shoulder, and 
 murmured : 
 
 " Oh! you must not go from us we can't spare 
 you even to God ! Why does he want to take you ? 
 He has plenty of angels already around him! 
 Mother and uncle and I had almost as soon die our- 
 selves as see you go away forever." 
 
 None heard what passed between them; but Mrs. 
 Carlton saw a look of pain on Mary's pure white 
 brow, and gently drawing her son away, changed the
 
 202 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 conversation by asking if it would not be better for 
 Mary to ride awhile in the wagon. 
 
 ** I am afraid she would find the jolting rather too 
 much for her. However, it will answer as a change, 
 and by driving myself, I can avoid many inequali- 
 ties. So, Miss Irving, make up your mind to relin. 
 quish your Babieca at least for to-day." 
 
 " You are very kind, Dr. Bryant, but I greatly 
 prefer your riding as usual. Indeed you need not 
 look so incredulous. I won't allow you to make 
 such a sacrifice." 
 
 " I was not aware that I was making any sacri- 
 fice," he coldly answered, and turned away. 
 
 Mary's lips quivered with internal pain, but she 
 offered no further opposition. 
 
 All was in readiness for moving on. Dr. Bryant 
 stood arranging Florence's bridle, and bantering her 
 on her inattention to the reins. She laughed in her 
 turn. 
 
 " Indeed, Doctor, don't you think me a capital 
 horsewoman ? you will certainly admit it, after 
 being vanquished in a race ?" 
 
 " Really, Miss Florence, I rather think the credit 
 due to your fine horse than to your skill as a rider." 
 
 " Ah, incorrigible as usual, I see, Doctor!" and she 
 rode off to join Mr. Carlton. 
 
 Mr. Carlton had placed Mary in the wagon, and 
 carefully arranged her shawls that she might rest 
 easily. Frank quietly seated himself, and drove on. 
 
 " I shall not exert myself in the least to entertain 
 you, so you need not expect it ; for having very
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 2O3 
 
 politely told me you did not desire my company, I 
 shall not disturb you with my chatter, I promise you, 
 and take this opportunity to inform you that my tyn> 
 panums are at your service the remainder of the 
 day." 
 
 He glanced over his shoulder at the frail form 
 nearly buried beneath the weight of shawls and 
 cloaks wrapt about her. She smiled, and laid her 
 head on her arm: as she did so, he, looking at her, 
 failed to perceive a large stone in the track, and the 
 wheels passing directly over it, caused the wagon to 
 jolt most unmercifully. 
 
 Florence was just in the rear, and, unable to con- 
 trol her mirth, laughed outright as Frank and Mary 
 bounced up and down; and, riding up to them, 
 merrily asked " if Mary duly apprec ated her good 
 fortune in having so careful and scientific a driver." 
 
 Not a little amused, yet scarce able to laugh, the 
 latter replied that " she did indeed congratulate her- 
 self on the change of drivers, as she would not have 
 survived the day had it been otherwise." 
 
 Frank joined heartily in their merriment. 
 
 " Miss Hamilton," said he, " if you only knew what 
 caused me to overlook that unfortunate stone, you 
 would be more lenient in your crilicisms. " 
 
 " I am very sure you will adduce every possible 
 reason in your own favor, sir, and therefore feel no 
 sympathy for your carelessness," she retorted. 
 
 " Really you make me out as incorrigible a self- 
 excuser as the heroine of Miss Edgeworth's juvenile 
 tales; though even she chanced upon a good excuse
 
 2O4 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 occasionally. Come, try me, and see what I can 
 urge in my own defense." 
 
 " Well, then, I ask you, & la Godfrey, what you 
 were thinking of when you, who had an ailing lady 
 in your cart, drove directly over the largest rock you 
 have seen in a wewk ?" 
 
 " In the first place, I did not see it. You need 
 not look quite so incredulous; I assure you I did 
 not." 
 
 " That is very evident, but no excuse at all. 
 Pray, where were your eyes ?" 
 
 " Where nature intended them to be, I suppose." 
 
 " Nonsense ! why didn't you use them ?" 
 
 " Because I have not the faculty of looking two 
 ways at once, like Brahma; and my optics were ir- 
 resistibly drawn in an opposite direction." 
 
 " A truce to all such excuses!" 
 
 " Patience, Miss Florence, hear me only once more. 
 The reason is, that I was looking at your cousin over 
 there, and calculating the chances of her surviving 
 suffocation." 
 
 " There is certainly some danger. Pray, Mary, 
 why wrap up so tlosely? uEolus has closed the 
 mouth of his cave, and the warring winds are se- 
 curely pent in their prison." 
 
 " Are you not very much edified, Miss Mary ? I 
 should beg pardon for such a waste of time and talk, 
 if I were not aware that 
 
 'A li.Je nonsense now and then, 
 Is relished by the wisest men.' w
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 2O5 
 
 As Mary made no reply, he turned around and re- 
 garded her earnestly. Her hat had fallen back from 
 the face, which rested on his black cloak. Every 
 vestige of mirth fled from his countenance as they 
 gazed on the sleeping girl. The feverish flush had 
 left the cheek, now perfectly wan; the dark brown 
 hair clung on the pure, beautiful brow, and beneath 
 the closed eyes were dark circles, traced by mental 
 suffering. The expression of the face was perfectly 
 calm, yet a wearied look, as though longing to be at 
 rest, lingered there. So motionless she lay, that 
 Frank hastily placed his hand on hers to feel if 
 warmth and vitality remained. Slowly and faint 
 came the pulsations, and, as he watched her death- 
 like slumber, his cheek grew pale, a look of unutter- 
 able anguish settled on his noble brow, and the finely 
 cut lips were tightly compressed, as with some acute 
 though hidden pain. Florence slowly returned to 
 Mr. and Mrs. Carlton no smile passed her lips the 
 remainder of the day; she seemed now, for the first 
 time, to realize her cousin's danger, and naught 
 could divert her mind from this new grief. 
 
 Dr. Bryant bent his head upon his breast, and 
 murmured in saddened tones: " Oh, Mary! Mary! 
 how gladly would I give all I possess on earth to see 
 you strong and well again."
 
 2O6 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO, 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 " And therefore my heart is heavy 
 With a sense of unquiet pain, 
 For but Heaven can tell if the parted 
 Shall meet in the earth again. 
 
 " With Him be the time and the season 
 
 Of our meeting again with thee : 
 Whether here, on these earthly borders, 
 Or the shore of the world to be." 
 
 Carey. 
 
 ONE day our party had traveled further than on 
 any previous occasion: long and tedious was the 
 ride, still they pushed on, hoping to reach some 
 stream ere the tents were pitched for the night, as an 
 abundant supply of pure fresh water was essential to 
 the comfort of their camp. In the metaphorical 
 strain of a certain writer "Phoebus drove his steeds 
 to be foddered in their western stables." Slowly 
 twilight fell upon the earth, and, one by one, the 
 lamps of heaven were lit. The wagon in which Dr. 
 Bryant and Mary rode was rather in the rear of the 
 party, as the riders pressed anxiously forward. The 
 cool-night wind blew fresh upon the fevered brow 
 of the invalid, and gently lifted and bore back the 
 clustering curls. 
 
 " I am very much afraid you will take cold :" and 
 Dr. Bryant wrapped his cloak carefully about her. 
 
 " Thank you:" and she sank back in its heavy
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 2O/ 
 
 folds, and looked up to the brilliant firmament, where 
 the stars glittered, like diamonds on a ground of 
 black velvet, in the clear, frosty air. 
 
 " Orion has culminated ; and how splendidly it 
 glows to-night, I think I never saw it so brilliant." 
 
 " Perhaps it appears so from the peculiar position 
 whence you view it. You never observed it before 
 from a wagon, in a broad prairie, with naught inter- 
 vening between the constellation and yourself save 
 illimitable space, though I agree with you in think- 
 ing it particularly splendid. I have ever regarded 
 it as the most beautiful among the many constella- 
 tions which girt the heavens." 
 
 " I have often wondered if Cygnus was not the 
 favorite of papists, Dr. Bryant." 
 
 " Ah ! it never occurred to me before, but, since 
 you mention it, I doubt not they are partial to it. 
 How many superstitious horrors are infused into 
 childish brains by nurses and nursery traditions ! I 
 well remember with what terror I regarded the 
 Dolphin, or, in common parlance, * Job's Coffin,' hav- 
 ing been told that, when that wrathful cluster was 
 on the meridian, some dreadful evil would most in- 
 evitably befall all who ventured to look upon it ; and 
 often, in my boyhood, I have covered my face with 
 my hands, and asked its whereabouts. Indeed I re- 
 garded it much as JEneas did Orion, when he says: 
 
 ' To that blest shore we steered our destined way, 
 When sudden dire Orion roused the sea ! 
 All charged with tempests rose the baleful star, 
 And on our navy poured his watery war.'
 
 208 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 The contemplation of the starry heavens has ever 
 exerted an elevating influence on my mind. In 
 viewing its glories, I am borne far from the puerilities 
 of earth, and my soul seeks a purer and more noble 
 sphere." 
 
 " Your quotation from Virgil recalled a passage 
 in Job , ' Seek him that maketh the seven stars and 
 Orion, and turneth the shadow of death into morn- 
 ing.' Oh! hqw inimitably sublime is inspired 
 language and ' turneth the shadow of death into 
 morning.' And how comforting the promise con- 
 veyed," said Mary, earnestly. 
 
 " Miss Irving, don't you admire Cassiopeia very 
 much ?" said Dr. Bryant, wishing to turn the current 
 of her thoughts. " I think it very beautiful, particu- 
 larly when it occupies its present position, and, as it 
 were, offers to weary travelers so inviting a seat. 
 Yet often I am strangely awed, in gazing on the 
 group so enveloped in unfathomable mystery. Who 
 may say when another of its jewels shall flicker and 
 go out ? And when may not our own world to other 
 planets be a ' Lost Star ?' How childish associa- 
 tions cling to one in after years. I never looked up 
 at Cassiopeia, without recalling the time when my 
 tutor gave me as a parsing lesson the first lines of 
 the * Task ' literally a task to me (mind I do not 
 claim the last as original, for it is a plagiarism on 
 somebody, I forget now who). My teacher first 
 * read the passage carefully over, explaining each idea 
 intended to be conveyed, and at the conclusion 
 turned to an assistant, and remarked that ' with
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 2OO, 
 
 Cassiopeia for a model, he wondered chairs were not 
 earlier constructed.' I wondered in silence what 
 that hard word could signify ? and at length sum- 
 moned courage to ask an explanation. A few nights 
 afterward, visiting at my father's, he took me out, 
 pointed to the constellation, and gave the origin of 
 the name, while, to my great joy, I discovered the 
 resemblance to a chair. Ah ! that hour is as fresh 
 in my memory as though I stood but last night by 
 his side and listened to his teachings." 
 
 " Yes, who will deny the magic influence of associ- 
 ation ? After all, Dr. Bryant, it is not the intrinsic 
 beauty of an object that affords us such delight, but 
 ofttimes the memory of the happy past, so blended 
 with the beauty viewed as scarcely to be analyzed 
 in the soothing emotions which steal into the heart. 
 Such a night as this ever reminds me of the beauti- 
 ful words of Willis, in his ' Contemplations ;' and, like 
 Alethe, I often ask,.' When shall I gather my wings, 
 and, like a rushing thought, stretch onward, star by 
 star, up into heaven ?' " 
 
 A silence ensued for several moments, and then 
 the cry of " Water!" " water!" fell refreshingly on 
 the ears of the wearied travelers, and the neighbor- 
 ing stream was hailed as joyfully as was in olden 
 time the well of Zem-Zem. 
 
 Soon the tents were pitched, and a bright crack- 
 Kng fire kindled. Florence, declaring she was too 
 much fatigued for supper, threw herself on her pallet. 
 Aunt Lizzy and Mrs. Carlton were busily unpacking 
 some of their utensils, and Mary, closely wrapt up,
 
 2IO INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 stood by the blazing logs, thinking how cheerful Ij 
 ruddy light made every object seem, and wonder- 
 ing if, after all, the Ghebers were so much to blame. 
 Mr. Carlton joined her; and after inquiring how she 
 bore their very fatiguing ride, remarked that in a 
 few more days their journeyings would be over. 
 
 " I shall almost regret its termination. This mode 
 of traveling seems very pleasant to me, and you 
 who are strong and well, must enjoy it much more." 
 
 Just then the sound of approaching hoofs caused 
 her to look toward their wagon ; and she perceived 
 two men mounted, one in the act of descending, 
 while Dr. Bryant advanced quickly to meet him. 
 
 Mr. Carlton left her. Silently she looked on, 
 wondering who the strangers could possibly be, when 
 the words fell with startling distinctness on her 
 listening ear: 
 
 " Dudley Stewart ! do my eyes deceive me ?" 
 
 " Frank Bryant ! is it possible I meet you here ?" 
 
 The tones of the last speaker were too familiar to 
 be mistaken. She trembled from head to foot as 
 the past rose before her. Her first thought was of 
 Florence. 
 
 " Oh, if he is married, this meeting will be terri- 
 ble !" and her heart throbbed violently as the gen- 
 tlemen approached her. Scarce conscious of her 
 movements, she advanced to meet Dr. Bryant, whose 
 arm was linked in that of the new comer. They 
 met : the fire-light glowed on the face of both. 
 
 " Mr. Stewart !" and the wasted hand was ex- 
 tended.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 211 
 
 " Mary Irving ! or is this an illusion ?" Tightly 
 the hand was clasped. 
 
 "It is I your old pupil, though so altered, I won- 
 der not that you fail to recognize me." She lifted 
 her eyes and met Dr. Bryant's gaze, deep and pierc- 
 ing, as though he were reading her inmost soul. 
 Mr. Stewart looked long at the face turned toward 
 him. 
 
 " Frank, you did not tell me she was with you ! 
 Oh, how changed how wasted you are! But what 
 means this black dress ?" and his fingers clutched 
 her mourning gown, while his deep tone faltered. 
 Mary drew closer to his side, and murmured: 
 
 " Florry is well ; but my uncle has been taken 
 from us." Her head sunk on her bosom as she 
 spoke. 
 
 " Where is Florence ?" and he tightly clasped her 
 hand between his own. 
 
 A shudder crept over Dr. Bryant, who had not 
 heard their words, and he walked quickly away. 
 
 " Florry is in the tent. Mr. Stewart, we heard 
 that you were married; can this be true ?" 
 
 " No, no ! Did your cousin credit the report ?" 
 
 44 Yes; and ere you make yourself known, let me 
 in some degree prepare her for the meeting." 
 
 So saying, she sought Florence, and asked if she 
 were sleeping. 
 
 44 No, Mary; can I do any thing for you?" and 
 she raised her head. 
 
 44 Yes, Florry, come with me I want to speak to 
 you."
 
 212 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 Her cousin accompanied her to the door, and 
 standing so that the tent intervened between them 
 and Mr. Stewart, Mary laid her hand on Florence's 
 shoulder, and said : 
 
 " I have just learned, Florry, that Mr. Stewart is 
 not married." 
 
 " Mary, Mary! why touch a chord which ever 
 vibrates with the keenest agony? There is no hap- 
 piness for me on earth I have known that for long, 
 and now I am striving to fix my thoughts, and all o 
 hope that remains on heaven." 
 
 Mary linked her arm in Florence's, and gently 
 drawing her forward, replied : 
 
 " God has not promised heaven as the price of 
 every earthly joy and comfort. Can you not still 
 hope for happiness ?" 
 
 " Mary, I am parted forever from him whom I 
 have loved so devotedly; yet I cease to repine. I 
 know my lot, and I will pass through life alone, yes, 
 alone, without a murmur." 
 
 " Not so, Florence my own treasured Florence !' 
 
 She turned quickly, and was clasped to the heart 
 of him she had sworn to love alone. 
 
 " Am I dreaming ?" said Florence, gazing eagerly 
 up into the noble face before her. He lifted his 
 cap from his brow, and bent his head that the light 
 might fall full upon it. A gleam of perfect joy ir- 
 radiated her beautiful face, and, leaning her head 
 on his shoulder, she whispered: " Forgive me for I 
 doubted you." 
 
 He bent, and sealed her pardon with a long kiss.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 2 1 3 
 
 Mary stole away to Mrs. Carlton to impart the 
 good news; Dr. Bryant had already communicated 
 it. Warmly she sympathized with them in again 
 meeting an old friend; but Mary heeded not her 
 words, for her eyes were riveted on Frank's stern 
 brow and slightly curling lip. A mist rose before 
 her, and catching for support at the tent, she would 
 have fallen, had not his strong arm encircled her; 
 and soon she lay motionless in her tent. He stood 
 and looked on her a moment, then knelt and 
 clasped the cold hands. Mary had not swooned, 
 though well-nigh insensible, and a low moan of an- 
 guish escaped her lips, colorless, and writhing with 
 pain. 
 
 " Can I do nothing for you ?" 
 
 " No, thank you; only do not tell Florry and Mr. 
 Stewart I am ill. It would only damp the joy of 
 their meeting." 
 
 He left her, and met the lovers as they sought the 
 remainder of the party. He understood at a glance 
 the position of affairs, and with the sad conviction 
 that Mary loved Mr. Stewart, and loved him in vain, 
 he strove to repress his emotion and appear as 
 usual. 
 
 Florence withdrew her hand from Mr. Stewart's 
 clasp, and, with a deep blush, passed Frank in order 
 to reach the tent. He placed himself before it. 
 
 " Miss Hamilton, I can't allow any one to disturb 
 your cousin; she is almost exhausted by our long 
 ride, and I forbid all company, as she needs rest and 
 quiet."
 
 214 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " I will not disturb her in the least, I assure you, 
 Doctor." But he persisted, and she was forced to 
 form one of the circle that now gathered round the 
 fire 
 
 Mr. Stewart, in answer to Dr. Bryant's inquiries, 
 replied that he had long felt anxious to visit San 
 Antonio, but had been detained at home by impor- 
 tant business till within a few weeks, when he set out 
 for Austin, and obtaining there a sort of guide and 
 companion, was hastening on, hoping to reach the 
 former place ere the arrival of the Mexican forces. 
 
 " Having heard," continued he, " that Mr. Hamil- 
 ton's death had left his family somewhat unpro- 
 tected, I felt particularly anxious on their account. 
 Seeing your camp-fire, attracted us in this direction, 
 and happy am I to meet so many old friends." 
 
 To Florence he had been far more explicit, de- 
 tailing the causes which produced a most fortunate 
 change in his circumstances, and his immediate de- 
 termination to seek her in her Western home. 
 
 " You will return with us to Washington then, 
 Stewart, as we possess the treasure you are in 
 search of ?" 
 
 " Yes, if none of the party offers any objection," 
 replied he. 
 
 '* I don't know that any feel disposed to act so un- 
 gratefully: suppose we inquire, however. Miss 
 Hamilton, have you any objections to receiving as 
 an escort and protector, this amiable cavalier, who 
 has wandered so far from home to offer his ser- 
 vices ?"
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 21$ 
 
 " Frank, it is hardly fair to make her speak for the 
 party; some may differ with her, on so important a 
 point." 
 
 " You seem quite certain as to her sentiments on 
 this subject. Upon my word, Miss Florence, if I 
 were you, I should most assuredly take this occa- 
 sion to teach him a little humility ; for instance, just 
 tell him it makes no difference with you that it is 
 perfectly immaterial." 
 
 " In following your advice, Doctor, the responsi- 
 bility will be inevitably transferred to yourself; and 
 I must thank you for so politely relieving me." 
 
 " I see no reason, Stewart, why you should not 
 join our party, and lend your assistance toward en- 
 livening the tedious hours yet in store for us; 
 though only a few more days of travel remain, thank 
 Heaven." 
 
 " One would suppose, from the fear of ennui which 
 seems to cloud your future, that Mary and I had 
 not succeeded so happily as we imagined, in our 
 efforts to entertain you." 
 
 " Pardon me, Miss Florence, if I have failed duly 
 to appreciate your kind efforts : though candor com- 
 pels the avowal, that I was not aware any extraor- 
 dinary exertion was made in my behalf." 
 
 " Really, Frank, I should say you have made con- 
 siderable progress in raising yourself in your own 
 estimation since last I heard you converse. Mrs. 
 Carlton, I am afraid this climate is unfavorable for 
 the growth of at least two of the cardinal virtues." 
 
 " Your insinuation is contemptible because ut-
 
 2l6 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 terly without grounds. Miss Florence, I appeal to 
 yon, as worthy the privilege of acting as nmpire in 
 this important discuision. Have you ever observed 
 aught in my conduct indicating a want of humil- 
 ity ?" 
 
 " Unfortunately, Doctor, should I return an an- 
 swer in your favor, it would be at the expense of a 
 virtue equally entitled to pre-eminence." 
 
 " To be very candid, Miss Hamilton, I must re- 
 turn thanks for her disinterested and very flattering 
 decision." 
 
 Here the conversation was interrupted by a call 
 to the evening meal, and gladly they obeyed the wel- 
 come summons. 
 
 Florence glancing round perceived the absence 
 of her cousin, and inquired the cause. 
 
 " I dare say she is asleep, poor child," said Aunt 
 Lizzy. 
 
 " She is trying to rest, Miss Hamilton, and I would 
 not advise any interruption. She needs quiet, for 
 she was sorely tried by this day's fatigue," observed 
 Dr. Bryant. 
 
 " I am afraid so," replied Florence, an anxious look 
 again settling on her face. " Oh, I wish on her ac- 
 count we could reach a place of rest and safety. I 
 fear she has failed in strength since leaving San An- 
 tonio." 
 
 "How sadly changed she has become: had she not 
 spoken in her old, familiar tones, I should not have 
 known her. I earnestly hope there is nothing serious 
 in her attack, and that she will soon regain her
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 2 1/ 
 
 former bloom : it pains me to see her so altered/' 
 
 said Mr. Stewart. 
 
 " She can not possibly improve while subjected to 
 the fatigues of this journey. I feared she was scarce 
 able to endure it," answered Frank. 
 
 The conversation turned on more agreeable topics, 
 and soon by all but Frank, who could not forget 
 her look of anguish she was for a time forgotten. 
 
 Mary heard from her couch of suffering the cheer- 
 ful blending of voices, though nothing distinct 
 reached her ear ; and as none approached to soothe 
 her by affectionate inquiries, a sense of neglect stole 
 over her. But too habitually accustomed to judge 
 gently of others and forget herself, it passed quickly 
 away. She knelt on her pallet, and clasping her thin 
 hands, raised her heart to God, in the low, feeble 
 tone of one well-nigh spent : 
 
 " My God, thou readest my heart? Thou knowest 
 how, day by day, I have striven to love thee more 
 and serve the better. Yet, oh, Father of mercies! 
 my soul is tortured with unutterable agony! Oh! 
 on the verge of the tomb, my heart still clings to 
 earth and its joys. Look down in thy mercy upon 
 me, and help me to fix my thoughts on heaven and 
 thee. For long I have known the vanity of my hope, 
 and the deceitf ulness of human things : yet I could 
 not tear away the pleasing image, and turn to thee 
 alone for comfort. Oh, may peace be my portion 
 the few days I have to live, and when death comes, 
 be thou with me, my God, to comfort and take me 
 soon to my home above."
 
 31 8 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 She sank back in very weariness. " Oh, Frank, 
 how could you so mistake me ? you whom I have 
 loved so long, how could you believe I loved 
 another ?" 
 
 In the clear sunny light of morning, how cheerful 
 all things looked; and to a heart at peace with God, 
 nature seemed rejoicing. The deep blue vault arch- 
 ing illimitably above the musical murmuring of 
 the creek, as it rushed along its rocky bed the mos- 
 quit, bent and glittering with its frosty mantle, 
 blended with the blazing camp-fire and the busy 
 hum of preparation for the day, stole pleasingly into 
 the heart. All the party, save Mary, stood about 
 the fire, warming their fingers and chatting on the 
 various occurrences of their long journey. All 
 paused to welcome the invalid, as she joined them 
 with a slow, feeble step ; yet she looked better than 
 she had done since leaving her home. Restlessly 
 she had tossed on her hard couch, and now the 
 hectic flush mantled the thin cheek and brightened 
 the deep blue eyes. The warm congratulations of 
 her friends on her improved appearance brought a 
 sad smile to her lip, and the expression of Dr. 
 Bryant's countenance told her that he at least realized 
 her danger. Never had Florence looked more beau- 
 tiful, as the clear cold air brought the glow to her 
 cheek, added to the effect of her mourning dress and 
 the expression of quiet happiness, imparting an in- 
 describable charm to her lovely features. 
 
 " As you now stand, Miss Florence, looking so
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 219 
 
 earnestly toward the east, you seem to me a perfect 
 realization of Willis's Jeptha's Daughter: 
 
 " ' She stood before her father's gorgeous tent, 
 To listen for his coming. Her loose hair 
 Was resting on her shoulder, like a cloud 
 Floating around a statue, and the wind 
 Just swaying her light robe, revealed a shape 
 Praxiteles might worship : 
 Her countenance was radiant with love : 
 She looked to die for it a being whose 
 Whole existence was the pouring out 
 Of rich and deep affections.'" 
 
 As he looked upon her, these lines were uttered 
 half unconsciously; and then turning to 'Mary, he 
 gently asked if he might speak what was passing in 
 his mind. 
 
 " Certainly, Frank continue your quotation; the 
 lines never seemed so beautiful before;" said Mr. 
 Stewart glancing at Florence as he spoke. 
 
 "Doubtless not, Stewart, because never so ap-, 
 pliod. Miss Hamilton, your cousin looks more as did 
 the Jewish maiden at close of evening: 
 
 " ' Her face was pale, but very beautiful; her lip 
 Had a more delicate outline, and the tint 
 Was deeper. But her countenance was like the 
 Majesty of angels.' " 
 
 * Dr. Bryant, is it possible you so far forget your- 
 self and previously expressed opinions, as to make 
 quotations ? I thought you a sworn foe to the 
 practice." 
 
 " On ordinary occasions, I am ; and you may rest 
 Vol. 6 J Evans
 
 220 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 assured it is the last time I commit such an absurdity 
 by a camp fire. I think you once asked me my 
 objection will you hear it now ? When I was quite 
 young, I one day read an anecdote of the celebrated 
 Greek professor, Dr. Person, which gave me a 
 strong bias against quotations, particularly locating 
 them, which necessarily follows. Person was once 
 traveling in a stage-coach, when a young Oxonian, 
 fresh from college, was amusing some ladies with 
 quite a variety of small talk, smong other things a 
 quotation from Sophocles, as he said. A Greek quo- 
 tation in a stage-coach roused Person, who half 
 slumbered in a quiet corner. * Young gentleman/ 
 said he, ' I think you indulged us, just now, with a 
 quotation from Sophocles; I don't happen to re- 
 member it there.' 'Oh, sir,' rejoined the tyro, ' the 
 quotation is word for word, and in Sophocles too.' 
 The professor handed him a small edition of So- 
 phocles, and requested him to point out the passage. 
 After rummaging about for some time, he replied : 
 ' Upon second thought the passage is in Euripides.' 
 ' Then,' said Porson, handing him a similar edition 
 of Euripides, ' perhaps you will be so kind as to find 
 it for me in this little book.' Our young gentleman 
 returned unsuccessfuly to the search, with the very 
 pleasant cogitation of ' Curse me, if ever I quote 
 Greek again in a stage-coach.' The tittering of the 
 ladies increased his confusion, and desperate at last, 
 he exclaimed ' Bless me, how dull I am; I remem- 
 ber now perfectly that the passage is in ^Eschylus. 1 
 The incorrigible professor dived again into his ap-
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 221 
 
 patently bottomless pocket, and produced an edition 
 of^Bschylus; but the astounded Oxonian exclaimed, 
 * Stop the coach , Halloa ! coachman, let me out in- 
 stantly; there is a fellow inside here that has got the 
 whole Bodleian library in his pocket. Let me out, 
 I say it must be Porson or the devil !' Now pre- 
 vious to reading this anecote, I must confess to quite 
 a penchant for quotations, but I assure you a full year 
 elapsed ere I ventured on another; and for a long 
 time the ghost of our gentleman appeared, spectre- 
 like, before me, whenever I attempted one." 
 
 When the merriment subsided, Mr. Stewart asked 
 if it was not of this same professor that a phreno- 
 logist remarked, on examining his skull, that " the 
 most important question was, how the ideas found 
 access to the brain once inside, and there are very 
 solid reasons to prevent their getting out again." 
 
 " Yes, the same. Craniologists admit, I believe, 
 that his was the thickest skull ever examined; and 
 it is related that when he could no longer articulate 
 English, he spoke Greek with fluency." 
 
 In a few moments the camp was broken up, and 
 they proceeded on their way. Mary cast a longing 
 glance toward her horse, now mounted by one of the 
 servants, and was taking her seat in the wagon, 
 when Dr. Bryant said: 
 
 " Would you like to try your horse a little while 
 this morning ? If it proves too fatiguing, you can 
 return to the wagon." 
 
 " I should like it very much, if I felt strong enough, 
 but I could not sit upright so long. Doctor, wiB
 
 222 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 you be so kind as to ride my horse for me to-day, 
 and let William drive ?" 
 
 " Certainly, if you prefer it ; but may I venture to 
 ask your reason ?" 
 
 " You have long been separated from your friend, 
 and naturally wish to be with him. Do not, on my 
 account, remain behind the party, as you are forced 
 to do in driving the wagon, but join Florence and 
 Mr. Stewart, who seem in such fine spirits this 
 beautiful morning. I feel too weary and feeble to 
 talk, and William will take good care of me." 
 
 He fixed his dark eyes mournfully on her face; 
 she could not meet his gaze, and her head sunk upon 
 her bosom. 
 
 " Believe me, Miss Irving, every other pleasure is 
 second to that of watching over and being with you. 
 If, in the proposed change, my feelings alone are to 
 be consulted, allow me to remain with you." 
 
 " Thank you, Dr. Bryant, you are very kind to 
 remember me so constantly; my only object was to 
 promote your enjoyment of the day." 
 
 They rode for some distance in silence. 
 
 " This. is my birth-day; and how little I fancied, 
 on the last anniversary, that I should be so situated," 
 said Dr. Bryant, as though speaking unconsciously. 
 
 " How one's feeling change with maturer years. I 
 remember well that, in my childhood, the lapse of 
 time seemed provokingly slow, and I wondered why, 
 from year to year, it seemed so very long. The last 
 three years of my life, though, somewhat checkered, 
 have flown too quickly away. A month ago, I
 
 IWEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 223 
 
 would willingly have recalled them, but they are 
 lost in the ocean of eternity, only to be remembered 
 now as a changing, feverish dream," Mary replied. 
 
 " Miss Irving, without the benign and elevating 
 influence of Hope, that great actuating principle 
 from the opening to the close of life, what a dreary 
 blank our existence would prove. In childhood it 
 gorgeously gilds the future ; the tints fade as maturity 
 gains that future, and then it gently brightens the 
 evening of life, while memory flings her mantle of 
 witchery over the past, recalling, in hours of sad- 
 ness, all of joy to cheer the heart, and banishing for- 
 ever the phantoms of terror the seasons of gloom 
 that once haunted us." 
 
 " Yes, how appropriately has the great bard of 
 Time, termed Hope ' silver-tongued.' And then, its 
 soothing accents are felt and acknowledged in the 
 darkest hour of human trial. When about to sever 
 every earthly tie when on the eve of parting with 
 every object rendered dear by nature and association 
 when the gloomy portals of the silent tomb open to 
 receive us, then comes Hope to paint the joys of 
 heaven. Our reunion with those we have loved 
 and lost perfect freedom from sin the society of 
 angels, and the spirits of the just made perfect ; the 
 presence of our Saviour, and an everlasting home in 
 the bosom of our God." 
 
 A look of unutterable peace and joy settled on the 
 face of Mary as she finished speaking and sank back, 
 her hands clasped, and her eyes raised as though in 
 communion with the spirits above.
 
 224 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 Dr. Bryant's eyes rested with a sort of fascination 
 on her countenance. 
 
 " You have this hope ; yes, already your soul turns 
 from earth and its vanities to the pure, unfailing 
 fount of heavenly joy. Oh ! that I, like you, could 
 soon find peace and perfect happiness! I have 
 striven against the bitter feelings which of late have 
 crept into my heart; still, despite my efforts, they 
 gather rapidly about me. I look forward, and feel 
 sick at heart. Turbid are all the streams of earthly 
 pleasures, and fully now I realize those lines, which 
 once seemed the essence of misanthropy 
 
 ' I thought upon this hollow world, 
 And all its hollow crew.' 
 
 For a time I found delight in intellectual pursuits, 
 but soon wearied of what failed to bring real com- 
 fort in hours of trial." 
 
 " You need some employment to draw forth every 
 faculty : in a life of active benevolence and useful- 
 ness, this will be supplied. Do not give vent to feel- 
 ings of satiety or ennui ; your future should be bright 
 no dangers threaten, and many and important 
 duties await you in life. God has so constituted us, 
 that happiness alone springs from the faithful dis- 
 charge of these. Every earthly resource fails to 
 bring contentment, unless accompained by an active, 
 trusting fatih in God, and hope of blessedness in 
 heaven. Wealth, beauty, genius are as naught ; and 
 fame, that hollow, gilded bauble, brings not the 
 promised delight, and an aching void remains in the
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 embittered heart. One of our most talented authors, 
 now seated on the pinnacle of fame, assures us that 
 
 ' The Sea of Ambition is tempest tost, 
 And your hopes may vanish like foam.' 
 
 * 
 
 'The Sun of Fame but gilds the name, 
 The heart ne'er felt its ray.' 
 
 Pardon me if I have ventured too far, or wounded 
 your feelings : it was not my intention, and I have 
 spoken half unconsciously." 
 
 " Thank you, Miss Irving, for your kind words of 
 comfort and advice. Fear not that ambition will 
 lure me; I know its hollow, bitter wages, and can 
 not be deceived. Yet there is a lonely feeling in my 
 heart which I can not dispel at will. Still my plans 
 for the future are sufficiently active to interest me; 
 and I doubt not that a year hence I shall feel quite 
 differently. If I could always have your counsel 
 and sympathy, I should fear nothing." 
 
 " In seasons of trial in the hours of gloom and 
 despondency appeal to your sister for comfort. 
 Oh ! she is far more capable of advising and cheer- 
 ing than I, who only echo her sentiments." Mary 
 pressed her hand to her side, and leaning back, 
 closed her eyes, as if longing for sest. 
 
 " I have drawn you on to converse more than was 
 proper forgive my thoughtlessness ; and, if it would 
 not be impossible, sleep, and be at rest." He care- 
 fully arranged her shawls, and as she lay a long 
 while with closed eyes, he thought her sleeping, but
 
 226 INEZ; A TALE or THE ALAMO. 
 
 turning, after a. time, was surprised to perceive her 
 gazing earnestly out on the beautiful country through 
 which they now rode. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 44 Alas ! how light a cause may move 
 Dissensions between hearts that love t 
 Hearts that the world in vain had tried, 
 And sorrow but more closely tied ; 
 That stood the storm when waves were rough 
 Yet in a sunny hour, fall off, 
 Like ships that have gone down at sea, 
 When heaven was al' tranquillity 1" 
 
 Moore. 
 
 PEACE and quiet and rest for you at last !" cried 
 Dr. Bryant, as they drove into the village of Wash- 
 ington, and, by dint of much trouble and exertion, 
 procured a small and comfortless house. But a 
 bright fire soon blazed in the broad, deep, old- 
 fashioned chimney the windows and doors closed 
 their small stock of furniture and provisions un- 
 packed, and a couch prepared for Mary, now far too 
 feeble to sit up. The members of the safe and 
 happy party gathered about the hearth, and dis- 
 cussed hopefully their future prospects. Dr. Bryant 
 raised bis eyes to the somewhat insecure roof,
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 22/ 
 
 through which the light of day occasionally stole in. 
 and exclaimed: 
 
 ' And doth a roof above me ciose . 
 
 " Not such a one as greeted Mazeppa on regain- 
 ing his senses, Frank; rather insecure, 'tis true, yet 
 somewhat better than the canvas covering for which 
 we have been so grateful of late." 
 
 Dr. Bryant leaned his elbow on the mantle-piece, 
 and fell into a fit of musing, not unusual to him since 
 leaving San Antonio. The servant disturbed his 
 reverie by requesting room for her cooking utensils. 
 He raised his head as she spoke, and then, as if 
 utterly unconscious, dropped it again, without reply. 
 
 " A segar for your thoughts, Bryant !" said Mr. 
 Stewar^ and linking his arm in that of his friend 
 they turned away. 
 
 Florence approached her cousin, and bending 
 over the wasted form, asked if she were not already 
 better. 
 
 Mary lifted her arms to her cousin's neck, and for 
 a moment strove to press her to her heart, but 
 strength had failed rapidly of late, and they sank 
 wearily by her side. Florence sat down and took 
 both hands between hers. 
 
 * Tell me, dear, if you are in pain ?" 
 
 " No, Florry, I do not suffer much now; I am at 
 present free from all pain. I have not had an 
 opportunity of talking with you for some time. 
 Florry, tell me, are you very happy !" 
 
 " Yes, Mary, I am very happy happier than I
 
 228 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 ever was before ; and far more so than I deserve. Oh.' 
 Mary, how miserable I have been; and it is by con- 
 trast that the transition is so delightful. I doubted 
 the goodness and mercy of God, and, in the bitter- 
 ness of my heart, I asked why I had been created 
 for so much suffering. Oh, Mary ! my pure-hearted, 
 angel cousin, how much of my present happiness I 
 owe to you. Suppose you had suffered me to wan- 
 der on in a maze of darkness. At this moment I 
 should have been a desolate, deluded, miserable 
 nun; clinging to a religion which, instead of Bible 
 truths, filled the anxious, aching heart with monkish 
 legends of unattested miracles, and in place of the 
 pure worship of God, gives us mummeries nearer 
 akin to pagan rites ! I thank God that I am released 
 from my thralldom. I see now the tissue of false- 
 hood so plausible in which all things were wrapped. 
 Blackness and deceit in the garb of truth and purity! 
 And it is horrible to think that he who so led me 
 astray claims to be my brother! Mary, Mary, how 
 can I tell Mr. Stewart this? tell him that I have 
 wondered from the true faith that I have knelt in 
 confession to him who cursed our common father! 
 He will despise me for my weakness; for only yes- 
 terday he said he first loved me for my clear insight 
 into right and wrong, and my scorn of deceit and 
 hypocrisy! Yet I deceived you; at least, tacitly 
 you who have ever loved me so truly, you who have 
 saved me at last, and pointed out the road to heaven. 
 Mary forgive me ! I never asked pardon of any on 
 earth before, but I wronged you, good and gentle
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 22Q 
 
 though you always were. Forgive me, oh, my 
 cousin!" 
 
 Mary clasped Florence's hands in hers, and though 
 too feeble to speak very audibly, replied : 
 
 " Florry, think not of the past; it has been very 
 painful to us both, yet I thank God that you are 
 right at last. You know how I love you: I would 
 give every treasure of earth to contribute to your 
 happiness; and now that you are so blest, listen to 
 my counsel. Florry, there is a cloud no bigger than 
 a man's hand resting low on the horizon of your 
 happiness be warned in time. You know Mr. 
 Stewart's firm, unwavering principles of Protestant- 
 ism ; you know, too, the aversion with which he re- 
 gards the priests of Rome; it may be a hard task 
 now, but it will be tenfold more difficult a year 
 hence. Go to him at once, tell him you were mis- 
 guided and deceived, and reveal every circumstance 
 connected with that unhappy period. He will love 
 you more for your candor. Florry, you turn pale, 
 as though unequal to the task. Oh, my cousin, you 
 prize his love more than truth ; but the time will 
 come when he will prize truth more than your love! 
 Florry, let me beg you tell him all, and at once." 
 She sank back, as if exhausted by her effort in speak- 
 ing so long, yet firmly retained Florence's hand. 
 
 " Mary, if I do this, it is at the risk of losing his 
 esteem, which I prize even more than his love. And 
 after all, / cannot see that truth or duty requires 
 this humiliating confession. Should he ever question 
 me, I should scorn to deceive him, and at onoe
 
 23O INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 should tell him all. But he does not suspect it, and 
 /, being no longer in danger or blinded, need not 
 reveal the past." 
 
 Mournfully Mary regarded her beautiful cousin. 
 
 " Florry, if you conceal nothing now, he will es- 
 teem you more than ever for hazarding his love in 
 the cause of truth. If, in after years, he discovers 
 the past, he will tell you that, silently at least, you 
 deceived him, and reproach you with want of can- 
 dor and firmness. Oh! there is a fearful risk to 
 run; he will never place confidence in you again 
 be warned in time." 
 
 The entrance of Aunt Lizzy and Mrs. Carlton pre- 
 vented further conversation, and unclasping Mary's 
 fingers, Florence disengaged her hand and left the 
 room. 
 
 Two days passed in furnishing and arranging their 
 new home, and Mary saw but little of her cousin. 
 As evening closed in again, the invalid watched 
 from her couch the countenance of Mr. Stewart, as 
 he sat earnestly conversing with her aunt. Florence 
 and Mr. and Mrs. Carleton were out making some 
 necessary purchases, and Dr. Bryant had been ab- 
 sent on business of his own since morning." 
 
 " Florence is too young to marry, or even dream 
 of it, at present, Mr. Stewart; and besides, if I must 
 be candid, I have always entertained different views 
 for her." 
 
 " Pardon me, but I believe I scarcely comprehend 
 your meaning. You speak of other views for her; 
 may I venture to ask the nature of these ?"
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 231 
 
 * I have never expected her to marry at all, Mr. 
 Stewart." 
 
 " And why not, pray ? What can you urge in 
 favor of yotir wishes ?" 
 
 " I had her own words to that effect, scarce a 
 month ago." 
 
 A proud, happy smile played round his lips, and 
 he replied : " She may have thought so then, but I 
 think her views have changed." 
 
 " But for Mary, she would have been the same :" 
 and a bitter look passed over her wrinkled face. 
 
 " Excuse me, if I ask an explanation of your 
 enigmatical language ; there is some hidden meaning. 
 I well know." 
 
 " Mr. Stewart, your mother and I are old friends 
 and I wish you well; but all good Catholics love 
 their church above every earthly thing. I should 
 like to see Florence happy, but her eternal good 
 should first be secured ; you are a Protestant, and 
 bitterly opposed to our Holy Church, and I cannot 
 consent to see her marry a heretic, for such you are : 
 she is too far astray already." 
 
 " If your niece were herself a Papist, your reason 
 would indeed be a cogent one; but, nnder existing 
 circumstances, I am puzzled to understand you." 
 
 " Were it not for Mary's influence, Florence would 
 even now rest in the bosom of our Holy Church. 
 She has done her cousin a grievous wrong; may 
 God and the Blessed Virgin forgive her!" 
 
 Mary groaned in spirit, as she marked the stern 
 glance of his eagle eye, and feebly raising herself,
 
 232 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 she said : " Mr. Stewart, will you take this seat be- 
 side the sofa ? I wish to speak with you." 
 
 Aunt Lizzy left the room hurriedly, as though she 
 had already heard too much, and silently he com- 
 plied with Mary's request. 
 
 " You are pained and perplexed at what my aunt 
 has just said ; allow me to explain what may seem a 
 great mystery. You are not aware that my uncle 
 died a Papist. Weakened in body and mind by dis- 
 ease, he was sought and influenced in secret, when I 
 little dreamed of such a change. On his deathbed 
 he embraced the Romish faith, and, as I have since 
 learned, exacted from Florry a promise to abide by 
 the advice of his priest, in spiritual as well as tem- 
 poral matters. He expired in the act of taking the 
 sacrament, and our desolation of heart can be better 
 imagined than described left so utterly alone and 
 unprotected, far from our relatives and the friends 
 of our youth. I now marked a change in Florry, 
 though at a loss to account for it. An influence, 
 secret as that exerted on her lost parent, was like- 
 wise successful, and, to my grief and astonishment, 
 I found that she too had embraced papacy." 
 
 The door opened and Florence entered. She 
 started on seeing her lover, but advanced to them 
 much as usual. He raised his head, and cold and 
 stern was the glance he bent on her beautiful face. 
 She stood beside him, and rising, he placed a chair 
 for her in perfect silence. Mary's heart ached, as 
 she noted the marble paleness which overspread her 
 cousin's cheek. Mr. Stewart folded his arms across
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 233 
 
 his chest, and said in a low, stern, yet mournful 
 tone: 
 
 " Florence, I could not have believed that you 
 would have deceived me, as you have silently done." 
 
 Mournfully Florence looked for a moment on 
 Mary's face, yet there was no reproach in her glance; 
 it seemed but to say " You have wakened me from 
 my dream of happiness." 
 
 She lifted proudly her head, and fixed her dark 
 eyes full on her lover. 
 
 " Explain yourself, Mr. Stewart ; I have a right to 
 know with what I am charged, though I almost 
 scorn to refute that of deceit." 
 
 " Not a week since, Florence, you heard me avow 
 my dislike of the tenets and practices of the Romish 
 Church. I said then, as now, that no strong-minded, 
 intelligent woman of the present age could consult 
 the page of history and then say that she conscien- 
 tiously believed its doctrines to be pure and scrip- 
 tural, or its practices in accordance with the teach- 
 ings of our Saviour. You tacitly concurred in my 
 opinions. Florence, did you tell me you had once 
 held those doctrines in reverence ? Nay, that even 
 now you lean to papacy ?" Stern was his tone, and 
 cold and slightly contemptuous his glance. 
 
 A bitter, scornful smile wreathed the lips of his 
 betrothed. " I acknowledge neither the authority of 
 questioning, nor allow the privilege of any on earth 
 to impugn my motives or my actions. Had I felt it 
 incumbent on me to acquaint you with every cir- 
 cumstance of my past life, I should undoubtedly
 
 234 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 have done so, when you offered me your hand. I 
 felt no obligation to that effect, and consequently 
 consulted my own inclinations. If, for a moment, 
 you had doubted me, or asked an explanation of the 
 past, I should have scorned to dissemble with you; 
 and now that the subject is broached you shall have 
 the particulars, which, I assure you, have kept well, 
 though, as you suppose, sometime withheld. I have 
 been a member of the Church of Rome: I have 
 prayed to saints and the Virgin, counted beads and 
 used holy water, and have knelt in confession to a 
 priest of papal Rome. I did all this, thinking, for a 
 time, my salvation dependent on it. You know all 
 now." 
 
 Mr. Stewart regarded her sadly as she uttered 
 these words, and his stern tone softened as he noticed 
 her bloodless cheek and quivering lip. 
 
 " Florence, it is not your former belief or practice 
 that give me this pain, and sadden our future. If 
 you were at this moment a professor of the Romish 
 faith, I would still cherish and trust you; I should 
 strive to convince you of your error to point out 
 the fallacy of your hopes. When I recall the circum- 
 stances by which you were surrounded, and the in- 
 fluencs exerted, I scarcely wonder that, for a time, 
 you lent your credence and support. But, Florence, 
 full well you know that this is not what pains me. 
 It is the consciousness that you have kept me in 
 ignorance of what your own heart told you would 
 show your momentary weakness, and led me to sup- 
 pose you entertained a belief at variance with your
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 235 
 
 practice. You have feared my displeasure more 
 than the disregard of truth and candor. Florence, 
 Florence ! knowing how well I loved you, and what 
 implicit confidence I reposed in you, how could you 
 do this ?" 
 
 " Again, Mr. Stewart, I repeat that I perceive no 
 culpability in my conduct. Had I felt it my duty, 
 your love or indifference would not have weighed 
 an atom in my decision to act according to my sense 
 of right and wrong." 
 
 He turned from her, and paced to and fro before 
 the fire. Florence would have left the room, but 
 Mary clasped her dress, and detained her. 
 
 " Mr. Stewart, you have been too harsh and hasty 
 in your decision, and too severe in your remarks. 
 Florry has not forfeited your love, though she acted 
 imprudently. Ask your own heart whether you would 
 be willing to expose to her eye your every foible and 
 weakness. For you, like all God's creatures, have 
 faults of our own. Is there nothing you have left 
 untold relative to your past ? Oh ! if you knew how 
 deep and unutterable has been her love, even when 
 she never again expected to meet you, you would 
 forget this momentary weakness a fault committed 
 from the very intensity of her love, and fear lest she 
 should sink in your estimation." 
 
 " Mary, if she had said, Dudley, I have not always 
 felt as now, and my mind was darkened for a time, I 
 should have loved her, if possible, more than before, 
 for her noble candor. My own heart would have 
 told me, This is one in whom you may eternally
 
 23<5 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 trust, for she risked the forfeiture of your love in 
 order that truth might be unsullied How can I 
 confide in one who values the esteem of man more 
 than the approval of her own conscience ? You 
 have said her love was a palliation. No, you are 
 wrong ; it is an aggravation of her fault. She should 
 have loved me too well to suffer me to discover by 
 chance what should have been disclosed in confi- 
 dence. Mary, her love is not greater than mine. 
 None know how I have cherished her memory 
 how I have kept her loved image in my heart dur- 
 ing our long separation. I would give every earthly 
 joy or possession to retain her affection, for it is 
 dearer to me than every thing beside, save truth, can- 
 dor and honesty. I have nothing to conceal from 
 her. I would willingly bare my secret soul to her 
 scrutiny. There is nothing I should wish to keep 
 back, unless it be the pain of this hour." 
 
 He paused by her side, and looked tenderly on 
 the pale, yet lovely face of Florence. 
 
 " Mr. Stewart, shall one fault forever destroy 
 your confidence in Florry, when she has declared 
 that had she thought it incumbent on her to speak 
 of these things if she had felt as you do, she asserts 
 that nothing could have prevented her revealing 
 every circumstance." 
 
 " Mary, I fear her code of morality is somewhat 
 too lax ; and the fact that she acknowledges no 
 fault is far more painful than any other circum- 
 stance." 
 
 " Mary, I have omitted one thing which I wish
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 237 
 
 him to know. I neglected to inform you, that the 
 priest to whom I confessed is my half -brother! I 
 have now told you all ; and thinking as you do, it is 
 better that in future we forget the past and be as 
 strangers to each other. That I have loved you 
 fervently, I can never forget neither your assertion 
 that I am unworthy of your confidence." 
 
 She disengaged her dress from Mary's clasp, and 
 
 turned toward the door. Mr. Stewart caught her 
 
 hand, and firmly held it. She struggled not to re- 
 
 1 *ase herself, but lifted her dark eyes to his, and 
 
 klmly met his earnest glance. 
 
 " Florence!" 
 
 There was a mournful tenderness in the deep 
 tone. Her lip quivered, still her eyes fell not 
 beneath his, piercing as an eagle's. 
 
 " Mr. Stewart, you have wronged her; you have 
 been too severe." And Mary clasped his hand 
 tightly, and looked up appealingly. He withdrew 
 his hand. 
 
 " Florence, this is a bitter, bitter hour to me. Yet 
 I may have judged too harshly : we will forget the 
 past, and, in future, let no such cloud come be- 
 tween us." 
 
 " Not so, Mr. Stewart : if I am unworthy, how can 
 you expect confidence from me ? Think you I will 
 change the code which you just now pronounced 
 too lax ? Oh ! you know not what you have done. 
 It is no light thing to tell a woman of my nature she 
 is unworthy of the love she prized above every
 
 238 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 earthly thing!" Her voice, despite her efforts, 
 faltered. 
 
 " Florence, I have been too severe in my language, 
 and you too proud and haughty. Full well we know 
 that without the love of each other life would be joy- 
 less to both. Ours is not a common love ; and again 
 I say, let us forget the past, while, in future, need I 
 ask you to keep nothing from me ?" 
 
 He drew her to him as he spoke, and passing his 
 arm round her, pressed her to his heart. A long 
 time Florence hid her head on his shoulder, as if 
 struggling with her emotion, and then a heavy sob 
 relieved her troubled heart. Closer he clasped her 
 to him, and, laying his cheek on hers, murmured: 
 
 " My own darling Florence, forgive me, if I mis- 
 judged you ; tell me that you will not remember my 
 words that this hour shall be to us as a painful 
 dream." 
 
 She withdrew from his embrace, and, lifted her 
 head, replied: 
 
 " I was wrong to doubt your love, or believe that 
 you would think long of my weakness; but I am 
 innocent of the charge of dissimulation, and never 
 let us recur to the past." 
 
 She held out her hand, and clasping it in his, Mr. 
 Stewart led her away. 
 
 An hour later Mary lay with closed eyes, too 
 weary, from over excitement, even to look about her. 
 All had left the room, and a dim light from the 
 hearth just faintly lighted the large, comfortless 
 apartment. With noiseless step Dr. Bryant entered,
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 239 
 
 and seating himself in the vacant chair, near Mary's 
 sofa, bent forward that he might look on the wan 
 face of the sufferer. His heart ached as he noted 
 the painful alteration of the last week, and gently 
 and softly he took one of the thin white hands be- 
 tween his own. It was cold and damp, and, while 
 he pressed it, the dark blue eyes rested earnestly on 
 his face. 
 
 " I hoped you were sleeping, did I wake you ?" 
 and he laid the hand back, as she strove to with- 
 draw it. 
 
 " No, I have not slept since morning." 
 
 " Oh! I am troubled at your constant suffering; is 
 there any thing I can do for you ?" 
 
 " No, thank you, Doctor, I wish nothing." 
 
 " All my arrangements are completed, and to- 
 morrow I return to your home. Can I deliver any 
 message, or execute any commission !" 
 
 For a moment Mary closed her eyes, then replied 
 in a low voice : 
 
 " If you should see Inez, tell her to remember my 
 gift at parting, and thank her, in my name, for her 
 many, many kindnesses." She paused, as if gather- 
 ing courage to say something more. 
 
 " And tell her, too, that ere many hours I shall be 
 at rest. Tell her I have no fear, nay more, that I 
 have great hope, and that heaven is opening for me. 
 Let her prepare to join me, where there is no sorrow 
 nor parting." 
 
 There was a silence, as if they were communing 
 with their own hearts.
 
 240 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " You go to-morrow, Dr. Bryant ? Then you will 
 not stay to see me die ? I am failing fast, and when 
 you return, I shall have gone to that bourne whence 
 no traveler comes back to tell the tale. Let me 
 thank you now, for your unvarying kindness; many 
 have been your services, and a brother's care has 
 ever followed me. Thank you ! I appreciate your 
 kindness, and earnest and heartfelt is my prayer that 
 you may be very happy and blest on earth; and 
 when you, too, come to die, may your end be like 
 mine free from all fear, and may hope and joy at- 
 tend your last moments !" 
 
 Her breathing grew short, and large drops stood 
 on her pure, beautiful brow. 
 
 He had bent his head upon his bosom while she 
 spoke, but now he raised it, and, taking Iher hand, 
 clasped it warmly. 
 
 " Mary, Mary, if you knew what torture you in- 
 flicted, you would spare me this!" 
 
 It was the first time he had called her Mary, and 
 her pale lip quivered. 
 
 " Forgive me, if I cause you pain!" 
 
 Bending forward, he continued, in a tone of touch- 
 ing sadness " I had determined, Mary, to keep my 
 grief locked in my own heart, and never to let words 
 of love pass my lips. But the thought of parting with 
 you forever is more than I can bear. Oh ! Mary, 
 have you not seen for weeks and months how I have 
 loved you ? Long ago, when first we met, a deep, 
 unutterable love stole into my heart. I fancied for 
 a time that you returned it, till the evening we met
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 241 
 
 at my sister's, and yoc spoke with such indifference 
 of leaving me behind. I saw then I had flattered 
 myself falsely; that you entertained none save 
 friendly feelings toward me. Still I thought in time 
 you might learn to regard me with warmer senti- 
 ments. So I hoped on till the evening of our last 
 ride, when your agitation led me to suppose you 
 loved another. I saw you meet Mr. Stewart, and 
 was confirmed in my supposition. I gave up all 
 hope of ever winning your affection in return. Now 
 I see my error in believing for a moment that you 
 felt otherwise to him than as a brother, as the be- 
 trothed of your cousin. I know that you have never 
 loved him, and pardon my error. When I sought 
 you just now, it was to say good-by, and in absence 
 and varied and exciting pursuits to shut out from 
 my heart the memory of my hopes and fears. Mary, 
 your words fill me with inexpressible anguish ! Oh, 
 you can not know how blank and dreary earth will 
 seem when you are gone ! I shall have no hope, no 
 incitement, no joy!" 
 
 As she listened to this confession, which a month 
 before would have brought the glow to her cheek 
 and sparkle to her eye, she felt that it came too late; 
 still a perfect joy stole into her heart. She turned 
 her face toward him, and gently said: 
 
 " I am dying; and, feeling as I do, that few hours 
 are allotted me, I shall not hesitate to speak freely 
 and candidly. Some might think me deviating from 
 the delicacy of my sex; but, under the circumstances, 
 I feel that I am not. I have loved you long, and to
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 know that my love is returned, is a source of deep 
 and unutterable joy to me. You were indeed wrong 
 to suppose I ever regarded Mr. Stewart otherwise 
 than as Florry's future husband. I have never 
 loved but one." 
 
 " Mary, can it be possible that you have loved me, 
 when I fancied, of late, that indifference, and even 
 dislike, nestled in your heart ? We shall yet be 
 happy ! I thank God that we shall be so blest !" And 
 he pressed the thin hand to his lips. 
 
 " Do not deceive yourself. Your confession has 
 come too late. I can never be yours, for the hand 
 of death is already laid upon me, and my spirit will 
 wing its way, ere long, home to God. Now that we 
 understand each other, and while I yet live, let us 
 be as calm, as happy as the circumstances allow. 
 It may seem hard that I should be taken when the 
 future appears so bright, but I do not repine, neither 
 must you. God, ever good and merciful, sees that 
 it is best I should go, and we will not embitter the 
 few hours left us by vain regrets." Too feeble to 
 speak more, she closed her eyes, while her breath- 
 ing grew painfully short. 
 
 Dr. Bryant bent forward, and gently lifting her 
 head, supported her with his strong arm, and 
 stroked off from her beautiful brow the clustering 
 hair. A long time she lay motionless, with closed 
 eyes, and bending his head, he pressed a long kiss 
 on the delicately-chiseled lips. 
 
 " O God ! spare me my gentle angel, Mary," he 
 murmured, as looking on the wan, yet lovely face,
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 243 
 
 he felt that to yield her up was more than he could 
 bear. 
 
 At this moment Mrs. Carlton entered : he held out 
 his hand, and drawing her to his side, said, in a deep, 
 tender tone. 
 
 " She is mine now, sister; thank God, that at last 
 I have won her and pray with me that she may be 
 spared to us both." 
 
 Fervently she pressed his hand, and a tear rolled 
 down and dropped upon it, as she bent down to kiss 
 the sufferer. Gently he put her back. 
 
 " She is wearied, and just fallen asleep; do not 
 wake her." 
 
 He carefully depressed his arm that she might 
 rest more easily. Mrs. Carlton seated herself beside 
 her brother, and whispered: 
 
 " You will not go to-morrow, Frank ?" 
 
 " No, no; I will not leave her a moment. Ellen, 
 does she seem very much thinner since leaving 
 home ? I know she is very pale." 
 
 41 Yes, Frank ; she is fearfully changed within the 
 last week." 
 
 "Oh, Ellen! if she should be taken from me;" 
 and closer he drew his arm, as though fearing some 
 unseen danger. 
 
 " We must look to Heaven for her restoration, and 
 God is good," answered his sister, turning away to 
 conceal her tears. 
 
 Vol. 6 K Evans
 
 244 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 " Ah ! whence yon glare 
 
 That fires the arch of heaven ? that dark red smoke 
 Blotting the silver moon ? . . . 
 Hark to that roar, whose swift and deafening peals, 
 In countless echoes, through the mountains ring, 
 
 Startling pale midnight on her starry throne. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 Loud and more loud, the discord grows, 
 
 Till pale Death shuts the scene, 
 
 And o'er the conqueror and the conquered draws 
 
 His cold and bloody shroud." 
 
 Shelley. 
 
 THE 6th of March rose dark and lowering, and all 
 nature wore an aspect meet for the horrors which 
 that day chronicled in the page of history. To- 
 ward noon the dense leaden cloud floated off, as 
 though the uncertainty which vailed the future had 
 suddenly been lifted the crisis had come. Santa 
 Anna and his blood-thirsty horde, rendered more 
 savage by the recollection of the nth December, 
 poured out the vial of their wrath on the doomed 
 town. Oh ! San Antonio, thou art too beautiful for 
 strife and discord to mar thy quiet loveliness. Yet 
 the fiery breath of desolating war swept rudely o'er 
 thee, and, alas! thou wast sorely scathed. 
 
 A second time the ill-fated fortress was fiercely 
 charged. Long it withstood the terrible shock, and 
 the overwhelming thousands that so madly pressed
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 245 
 
 its gray, mouldering walls. The sun went down as 
 it were in a sea of blood, its lurid light, gleaming 
 ominously on the pale, damp brows of the doomed 
 garrison. Black clouds rolled up and vailed the 
 heavens in gloom . Night closed prematurely in with 
 fitful gusts, mingling the moans and strife of nature 
 with the roar of artillery. Still the fury of the onset 
 abated not: the Alamo shook to its firm basis. 
 Despairingly the noble band raised their eyes to the 
 blackened sky. " God help us!" A howling blast 
 swept by, lost in the deep muttering of the cannon- 
 ade. Then a deep voice rung clearly out, high 
 above the surrounding din: " Comrades, we are 
 lost ! let us die like brave men !" 
 
 The shriek of departing hope was echoed back by 
 the sullen groan of despair. Travis fell, fighting at 
 the entrance. As the hero sank upon the gory floor, 
 there was a pause ; friend and foe gazed upon the 
 noble form ! His spirit sprang up to meet his God. 
 
 " On, comrades! Travis has fallen! dearly will we 
 die!" 
 
 One hundred and fifty brave hearts poured out 
 their life-blood by his motionless form, struck down 
 like sheep in the slaughter-pen. But seven re- 
 mained : in despair they gaze on the ruin around, 
 reeling from exhaustion and slipping in gore. There 
 was borne on the midnight air a faint, feeble cry: 
 "Quarter! quarter!" Alas! brave hearts, the ap- 
 peal was lost, for an incarnate demon led the thirsty 
 "band. With a fiendish yell it was answered back,
 
 246 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " No quarter !" and ye seven were stretched beside 
 yon fearless noble Travis. 
 
 Not a living Texan remained. The stiffening 
 forms, grim in death, returned not even a groan to 
 the wild shout of triumph that rung so mockingly 
 through the deserted chambers of the slaughter- 
 house. Victory declared for the wily tyrant the 
 black-hearted Santa Anna. Complete was the de- 
 solation which reigned around : there was none to 
 oppose no not one; and the Alamo was his again. 1 
 Oh, Death ! thou art insatiate ! Hundreds had yielded 
 to thy call, and followed the beckoning of thy re- 
 lentless hand: and still another must swell thy 
 spectre host, and join the shadowy band of the 
 Spirit World.' 
 
 For three days Don Garcia lay motionless on his 
 couch of pain; even utterance was denied him, for 
 paralysis had stretched forth her numb, stiffening 
 finger, and touched him, even while he stood in the 
 busy haunts of men. All day the din of battle had 
 sounded in his ear; Inez from time to time stole 
 from his side, and looked out toward the fortress, 
 dimly seen through the sulphurous cloud of smoke 
 and the blaze of artillery. 
 
 In the silent watches of the night, the shout of 
 " Victory!" was borne on by the blast. " My father, 
 the Alamo is taken Santa Anna has conquered !" 
 He struggled fearfully, a gurgling sound alone passed 
 his lips, and he fell back lifeless on his pillow. 
 
 Calmly the girl bent down and closed the eyes, 
 covered decently the convulsed features, and then,
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 247 
 
 shrouding her face with the mantilla, stept forth for 
 assistance. The next day saw the Don borne to his 
 last resting-place. In accordance with the custom 
 of the nation, no female followed the bier. It was 
 borne by two men, and followed by some dozen 
 children, and perhaps as many aged Mexicans, 
 while just in advance strode the Padre, repeating 
 the Latin service for the dead, and attended by four 
 boys two bearing censers, one a cross, and the 
 other holy water. With indecent haste they pressed 
 forward, passing through the church, and resting the 
 bier for a moment on the altar, while an Ave Maria 
 was repeated. At a sign from the Padre, the pro- 
 cession moved on to the churchyard, and, without 
 further ceremony, the body was deposited in con- 
 secrated ground. Holy water was sprinkled profusedly 
 around, and then all departed, leaving him to sleep 
 undisturbed the last dreamless sleep. 
 
 Night found Inez sitting alone by her dreary, de- 
 serted hearth. Father, mother, sister, cousin, all had 
 passed on before her; and the last of her house, she 
 mused in her lonely home. A faint fire flickering 
 on the hearth just revealed the form and face of the 
 Mexican maiden. Her mantilla lay on the floor be- 
 side her, the black hair, thick and straight, hung to 
 the waist, her brilliant, piercing eyes were bent va- 
 cantly on the fire, her dark cheek perfectly colorless 
 as clay. 
 
 " Who is there to care for Inez now ? Who will 
 smoothe my pillow, and close my eyes, and lay me to 
 rest ?"
 
 248 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 Her desolation of heart conquered ; her head sunk 
 upon her bosom, and a deep, bitter groan burst 
 from her lips. Slowly she rocked herself to and fro 
 in the loneliness of her spirit. 
 
 She had not loved her father warmly; there was 
 little congeniality between them, and her hasty re- 
 jection of Mafiuel's suit mutually embittered their 
 intercourse. For Nevarro, a sort of sisterly feeling 
 was entertained, no warmer affection. Yet she 
 could love intensely. A little sister had waked her 
 tenderness her heart clung to the gentle child, so 
 unlike herself. She sickened, and in a day went 
 down to the tomb : bitter was the grief of Inez, who 
 felt little for her mother, and soon she too took her 
 place in the churchyard. Dr. Bryant came, and 
 again Inez loved again she was disappointed ; and 
 now she sat alone in the wide world, without one re- 
 maining tie to bind the future. 
 
 The hour of bitterness had come. She looked 
 upon that dreary future and her utter desolation, 
 and no gleam of hope stole to her darkened soul. 
 An almost vacant expression settled on the dark 
 countenance of the once beautiful maiden. Softly 
 the door was pushed ajar, and the form of the Padre 
 stood within. By instinct she seemed aware of his 
 entrance, for raising her bowed head, the black 
 sparkling eyes flashed, and the broad brow wrinkled 
 into a frown dark as night. He approached her 
 and they stood face to face upon the hearth. 
 
 " What do you do here, in the house of death, Mio 
 Padre ?"
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 249 
 
 " Inez, my queen of beauty, I have come to take 
 the prize for which I toiled. There are none now 
 between us, no, not one. You need not draw back 
 so proudly." 
 
 A bitter, contemptuous laugh rung out on the 
 night air, and Inez folded her arms upon her bosom. 
 
 " Truly, Padre, we are well mated ! You have 
 opposed me, and I thwarted you! I am your equal: 
 think you to intimidate me with threats? You 
 should know better!" 
 
 " Inez, listen! I leave this place before many 
 days. My work is finished here ; there are none to 
 oppose, and I go elsewhere. To Mexico first, and 
 then to Italy. You must go with me, my proud 
 beauty! I cannot leave you here!" 
 
 Again Inez laughed her mocking laugh. " Go 
 with you, Mio Padre! No, no; I must decline the 
 honor. The hour of settlement has come! Al- 
 phonso Mazzolin, for long you have plotted my de- 
 struction; and one by one removed every obstacle 
 in your way, and smoothed my path to ruin! I 
 have known this silently I have watched you ma- 
 noeuvre. You counseled Mafiuel; you flattered him, 
 encouraged his hasty course and overbearing man- 
 ner, and caused the rupture between us. You knew 
 my nature, and foresaw the result. You thought to 
 secure me within the walls of yonder gloomy con- 
 vent, and hoped that in time my broad lands would 
 bless and enrich your holy church! But, Padre, I 
 did not fancy the home prepared for me in San Jose. 
 I promised to comply with my father's wish, and
 
 250 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 fulfill the engagement, much to your surprise and 
 chagrin. Padre, I would have married Mafiuel, 
 sooner than second your plans. I, too, foresaw the 
 tempest that even now howls over us. It was 
 my only hope, and I said, who may predict the 
 chances of war ? The Americans may yet number 
 the most here, and then your power will be at an 
 end. Seemingly I was passive, but you are thwarted. 
 We stand face to face, and I scorn you, incarnate 
 devil as you are. How dared you do as you have 
 done ? Mine eyes are opened you can no longer 
 deceive me with your lying legends and the marvel- 
 lous traditions of your country. I tell you, I hate 
 you with an everlasting hate. You have led me far 
 from God, if there be a God, and may my curse fol- 
 low you, even to your grave !" 
 
 Fiercely the glowing face was bent upon him. 
 Hate, scorn, bitterness of heart, and utter desolation 
 mingled strangely in the withering glance. The 
 Padre seized her arm and hoarsely exclaimed : 
 
 " We know each other now; no matter, you can- 
 not escape me; if force be necessary to take you 
 hence, I can command it at any moment. You 
 know full well my word is law; resist not, nor fur- 
 ther rouse me there is no help for you save in sub- 
 mission. I will not leave you." 
 
 " Ere I follow you hence, yonder river shall close 
 over my body. I tell you now I will not accompany 
 you." 
 
 He stepped to the door and whistled faintly. The
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO 2$I 
 
 next moment a black- browed soldier stood before 
 them. 
 
 " Herrara, she has broken her promise she re- 
 fuses to enter a convent, and she defies me, and 
 scorns our holy church. I somewhat expected this ; 
 and I charge you now, suffer her not to pass the 
 threshold of her own room; guard well the door, 
 there is no window. See you, Inez, you can not 
 escape me ?" 
 
 He whispered in the intruder's ear, and, promising 
 to come again the ensuing day, left the house, care- 
 fully closing the door after him. Lighting his cigar- 
 rita, Herrara requested Inez to seek her own apart- 
 ment, that he might secure the door outside, and 
 then return to the fire. Without a word she as- 
 cended the stairs to her own room. A chain was 
 passed about the door, and then the retreating steps 
 of the soldier died away. 
 
 What should she do ? Inez sat down to collect her 
 thoughts, and looked round the apartment. The 
 walls were of solid rock, and in one corner was a 
 small grating of four iron bars, which admitted light 
 and air, but precluded all hope of escape in that 
 quarter. The door was secured, and no means of 
 egress presented itself. Her eye rested on her 
 lamp, and a smile lit up the dark countenance of the 
 prisoner. She threw herself on her bed; slowly the 
 hours rolled midnight came at last. She rose and 
 listened no stir, no sound of life reached her ; she 
 glanced at her lamp, now dim the light was waning, 
 and softly stepping across the room, she drew from
 
 252 INEZ; A TALE or THE ALAMO. 
 
 a basket several bundles of papers. These she tore 
 in pieces, and placing them beside the door, drew the 
 lamp near. Inez carefully twisted up her long black 
 hair, and placed on her head a broad sombrero, 
 which the Don had worn of late; then taking his 
 Mexican blanket, she slipped her head through the 
 opening, and suffered it to fall to her feet. Some- 
 thing seemed forgotten, and after some little search 
 she found a small cotton bag, into which she dropped 
 a polonce, then secured it beneath the blanket. 
 Queerly enough she looked, thus accoutred ; but ap- 
 parently the oddity of her appearance never once 
 crossed her mind, for, stepping across the floor, she 
 held the pieces of paper over the lamp till ignited, 
 then quickly thrust them one by one between the 
 small crack or chink in the centre of the door. It 
 was of wood, old and dry, and caught like tinder. 
 She watched it burn ; the door was narrow, and the 
 devouring element soon consumed all save the top 
 and bottom pieces which extended across. These 
 quivered as their support crumbled beneath them, 
 and soon would fall with a crash. She watched her 
 time, and gathering dress and blanket closely about 
 her, sprang through, and though almost suffocated 
 with smoke, hurried down to a small door at the 
 rear of the house. She stood without and listened; 
 Inez fancied she heard the crackling of the fire, yet 
 there was no time to lose. Just before her sat a 
 large stone vessel containing the soaking corn for 
 the morning tortillos; drawing forth her bag she 
 filled it with the swollen grain, and hastened on to
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 253 
 
 where a small black horse was lassoed, having his 
 hay scattered on the ground beside him. It was 
 but the work of a moment to throw on and fasten 
 her father's saddle, which hung on a neighboring 
 tree, and loosing the hair lariat, she patted the pony 
 
 she had often ridden on St. 's day, and sprang 
 
 into the seat. Slowly she passed through the nar- 
 row yard and entered the street; pausing, she 
 glanced up at her window, and perceived through 
 the grating the blaze and smoke now filling the va- 
 cant room. Distinctly the clank of the chain fell on 
 her ear, and turning into an alley she galloped 
 away. 
 
 Inez knew it would be impossible to pass over the 
 bridge and down the Alameda without detection, 
 for seven hundred Mexican troops were stationed 
 on the outskirts of the town ; and, with the celerity 
 of thought, she directed her way in the opposite di- 
 rection, toward a shallow portion of the river, occa- 
 sionally used as a ford. Happily the distance was 
 short ; and urging her somewhat unwilling horse, she 
 plunged in. The moon rose full and bright as she 
 reached the opposite bank; and pausing a moment, 
 she looked back upon the sleeping town. No sound 
 of life fell on her ear; and avoiding the beaten track, 
 she turned her horse out on the grass, and hastened 
 on toward the east, directing her course so as to pass 
 beyond the Powder-House, which was dimly seen in 
 the distance. At a quick canter it was soon passed, 
 and she pressed on to the Salado, some three miles 
 distant. Full well she knew she would be sought for
 
 254 INEZ 5 A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 when morning dawned; and with such speed she 
 almost flew on, that sunrise found her many miles 
 from her home. Inez was fearless, or she would 
 never have dared to undertake what lay before her 
 Alone, unprotected, in the guise of a man, without 
 possessing his ordinary means of defence, there was 
 much to risk ; for Indian depredations were frequent 
 and she must traverse a wide waste of almost inter- 
 minable length ere reaching any settlement. 
 
 When the sunbeams played joyously about her 
 Inez stopped to rest, and eating a few grains of her 
 treasured corn, she allowed her horse to graze a 
 short time along the margin of a stream, where the 
 grass was tender and abundant ; and then remount- 
 ing, rode on somewhat more leisurely than she had 
 previously done. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 " To die, is landing on some silent shore, 
 Where billows never beat nor tempests roar 1" 
 
 Garth. 
 
 SINCE morning, Mary had lain in the deep, dream- 
 less sleep of exhaustion : and now the leafless boughs, 
 which waved to and fro before her window, threw 
 long shadows aftwart the wall and across the deserted 
 yard. Evening was creeping slowly on. Over the 
 wan, yet lovely face of the sleeper had come a
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 255 
 
 gradual change agonizing, yet indescribable. It 
 ever appears when Death approaches to claim his 
 victim, and it seems as though the shadow cast by 
 his black pinions. Mary opened her eyes and looked 
 silently on the sad group which clustered around her 
 couch. Mr. Stewart, alone able to command his 
 voice, asked if she was not better, as she had slept 
 so gently. 
 
 " All is well, Mr. Stewart I have no pain;" and 
 her eye again rested on Florence. Long was the 
 look, and full of deep, unutterable tenderness. 
 Feebly she extended her hand. 
 
 "Florry!" 
 
 Her cousin knelt beside her, and buried her face 
 in her hands. Mary laid hers on the bowed head. 
 
 " Dear Florry, I have little time to stay. Do not 
 sadden this last hour with vain regrets. Ah! my 
 cousin, I thank God that you will be so happy. When 
 you miss me from your side you will feel lonely 
 enough, and your heart will ache for me again. Yet, 
 though bodily absent, I shall not be far away, Florry. 
 My spirit will hover round the loved ones I leave on 
 earth. ! Your dead, forming an angel-guard, will 
 ever linger about your earthly path, and in the hour 
 like this will bear up your spirit to God. Think not 
 of me as resting in the silent grave. I shall not be 
 there, but ever near you. I do not say, try to for- 
 get me and fix your thoughts on other things. Oh! 
 I beg you to think of me often, and of our glorious 
 reunion in heaven ! Florry, there is one thing which 
 will stand between you and me. My dear cousin,
 
 2 $6 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 conquer your pride, cast away your haughtiness, and 
 learn to lean on God, and walk in accordance with 
 his law. Oh ! who would exchange the hope of a 
 Christian for all that worlds could offer ? One may 
 pass through life, and do without it ; but in the hour 
 of death its claim is imperatively urged, and none 
 can go down to the tomb in peace without it. Florry, 
 you said last night it was hard that I should die. I 
 am not merely reconciled, but I am happy ! Earth 
 looks very bright and joyous, and if I might stay, 
 my future is attractive indeed. Yet I know that for 
 some good end I am taken, and what seems to you 
 so hard, is but a blessing in disguise. Oh! then, 
 when you are summoned away, L may you feel, as I 
 now do, that the arms of your God are outstretched 
 to receive you." She held out her hand to Mr. 
 Stewart, who stood beside her: he clasped it in his. 
 
 " Cherish Florry, and let no shadow come between 
 you. It gives me inexpressible joy to know that 
 when I am gone you will be near to love and to 
 guide her." 
 
 " We will comfort and guide each other, dear 
 Mary, and oh ! I pray God that we may be enabled 
 to join you in that land of rest to which you are 
 hastening." He fervently kissed the thin white 
 hand he held, and then gently raised Florence. 
 Mary lifted her arms feebly, and they clasped each 
 other in a long, last embrace. 
 
 " Mary, my angel cousin, I can not give you up. 
 Oh! I have never prized you as I ought. Who will 
 love me as you have done ?"
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 257 
 
 44 Hnsh, Florry!" whispered the sinking voice of 
 the sufferer. " I am very, very happy kiss me, 
 and say good- by." 
 
 Gently Dr. Bryant took Florence from her cousin, 
 and then each in turn, Mrs. Carlton and Aunt Lizzy, 
 bent over her; as the latter turned away, Mary took 
 her hand, and drawing her down, murmured : 
 
 " My dear aunt, forgive what may have pained 
 you in my past life. We have differed on many 
 points, but we both know there is one God. Oh ! 
 aunt, in his kingdom may we soon meet again: 
 think of me often, dear aunt. When I am gone ytra 
 will be very lonely, but only for a short period are 
 we separated." 
 
 Dr. Bryant elevated her pillow that she might rest 
 more easily. She lifted her eyes to his pale face. 
 44 Frank, will you turn the sofa that I may see the 
 sun set once once more ?" 
 
 He^moved it to the west window, and drew aside 
 the curtain that the golden beams might enter : she 
 could not look out, for the sofa was low, and sitting 
 down beside her, he passed his arm around her, and 
 lifted her head to his bosom. For a time she looked 
 out on the brilliant hues of the setting sun, now just 
 visible above the tree tops. Slowly it sank, then dis- 
 appeared forever to her vision. Once Dr. Bryant 
 had seen her lips move, as in prayer; now the deep 
 blue eyes were again raised to the loved face bend- 
 ing over her. 
 
 44 Long ago, I prayed to God that I might fade 
 away gently, and die a painless death. He has
 
 2 8 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 granted my petition. All things seem very calm and 
 beautiful earth ne'er looked so like heaven before; 
 yet how insignificant in comparison with the glories 
 which await me. Frank, if aught could draw me 
 back, and make me loth to leave this world, it would 
 be my love for you. Life would be so bright passed 
 by your side. You know the depth of my love, yet 
 I may not remain. Frank, tell me that you can give 
 me up for a little while. Oh! can you not say, 
 God's will be done ?' " 
 
 " Mary, it is a terrible trial to yield you up, when 
 I looked forward so joyously to the future. It is 
 hard to think of the long, long dreary years that are 
 to come, and know that you will not be near me; 
 that I can not see your face, or hear your loved 
 tones. Oh, Mary, you know not the bitterness of 
 this hour; yet I can say God's will be done, for I 
 have conquered my own heart, but every earthly joy 
 and hope has passed away. To our reunion I.must 
 ever look as my only comfort, and I pray God that 
 it may be speedy." 
 
 He bent his head till his lips rested on the white 
 brow, now damp in death. Wearily she turned her 
 face toward his ; he clasped the wasted form tightly 
 to his heart, and kissed the pale lips; her fingers 
 clasped his hand gently and she whispered, " Good- 
 by" 
 
 " Good-by, my darling Mary! my own angel one, 
 good- by!" 
 
 Again he pressed his lips to hers, and then rested 
 her head more easily upon his arm. The eyes closed,
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 259 
 
 and those who stood watching her low, irregular 
 breathing, fancied she slept again. 
 
 One arm was around her, while the other sup- 
 ported the drooping head. Her beautiful brown hair 
 fell over his arm, and left exposed the colorless face. 
 She was wasted, yet beautiful in its perfect peace 
 and joy was the expression which rested on her fea- 
 tures. Dr. Bryant, leaning his noble brow on hers t 
 felt her spirit pass away in the last sigh which es- 
 caped her lips. Yet he did not lift his head. Cold 
 as marble grew the white fingers which lingered in 
 his, still he clasped her tightly. He sat with closed 
 eyes, communing with his own saddened heart ; he 
 was stilling the agony which welled up, and casting 
 forth the bitterness which mingled darkly with hi* 
 grief, and he said unto his tortured soul: ' Be still! 
 my treasure is laid up in heaven." 
 
 He lifted the hair from his arm, and gently drew 
 his hand from hers; yet, save for the icy coldness of 
 her brow, none would have known that the soul 
 which lent such gentle loveliness to the countenance 
 had flown home to God. 
 
 Dr. Bryant pressed a last kiss on the closed eyes 
 and marble brow, softly laid her on her pillow, and 
 left the room,
 
 200 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 * ALL things are dark to sorrow," and the very 
 repose of beauty of nature seems to the aching heart 
 a mockery. No violent bursts of grief had followed 
 Mary's death, for so peaceful and painless was her 
 end, it was scarce allowable. Yet now that she had 
 been consigned to the quiet grave, a dreary sense of 
 loneliness and desolation crept to the hearts of the 
 saddened group. They stood assembled at the door 
 of their new home, to bid adieu to Dr. Bryant. In 
 vain had been his sister's tears and entreaties, and 
 Mr. Carlton's expostulations. Florence had clasped 
 his "hand, and asked in trembling accents, why he 
 left them in their sorrow, and Mr. Stewart implored 
 him not to seek death on the battle-field. 
 
 Firm in his purpose, naught availed. He stood 
 upon the step ready to depart ; his noble face was 
 very pale, and grief had touched with saddening 
 finger every lineament. Yet his tone and mien were 
 calm as usual. 
 
 ** My dear sister," said he, " in times like these a 
 man should first regard duty the laws and precepts 
 of his God! then the claims of his suffering country; 
 and lastly, the ties of nature and the tenderer feel- 
 ings of his heart. Ellen, think how many have torn 
 themselves from weeping wives and clinging chil- 
 dren, and cast their warm love far from them. The 
 call to patriots is imperative. I have now nothing
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 26l 
 
 to detain me here: it is my duty to lend my arm 
 toward supporting our common liberty. Do not fear 
 for me, Ellen, my dear sister; remember that the 
 strong arm of all-seeing God is ever around us, to 
 guard in time of danger!" He clasped her tenderly 
 to his heart, then placed her in her husband's arms. 
 
 " Florence, if not again in Texas, I hope we shall 
 soon meet, in more peaceful hours, in Louisiana; if 
 not, I pray God that you and Stewart may be as 
 happy as I once hoped to be." He pressed her hand 
 warmly, and returning the long, tight clasp of Mr. 
 Stewart, mounted his horse and rode slowly away. 
 
 " Mother," said Elliot, " Uncle Frank has not taken 
 the right road toward home." 
 
 *' Hush, Elliot !" she sadly answered, while her tears 
 gushed anew; " he has gone by his Mary's grave." 
 
 On that hour, spent at the early tomb of the 
 "loved and lost " Mary, we will not intrude: it is 
 rendered sacred by its deep, unutterable anguish. 
 
 Nearly a week passed, and Dr. Bryant had hurried 
 on, riding through the long, long nights, and only 
 pausing at times to recruit his jaded steed. He had 
 arrived at within two days' ride of San Antonio, 
 and too wearied to proceed, stopped as night closed 
 in, and picketing his horse wrapped his cloak about 
 him, and threw himself under a large spreading oak 
 to rest, and, if possible, to sleep. An hour passed 
 on : still he lay looking up to the brilliant sky above. 
 Perfect quiet reigned around, and he felt soothed 
 inexpressibly. Overcome with fatigue, sleep stole 
 on, and momentary oblivion of the past was granted.
 
 262 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 He was startled from his slumber by the neighing of 
 his horse; and rising lightly drew forth his pistols, 
 cocked one, and turned in the direction whence 
 came the sound of approaching hoofs. The neigh- 
 ing was answered by the advancing steed, and soon 
 the figure of both rider and horse was dimly seen; 
 for the moon was not yet risen, and the pale light of 
 the stars but faintly assisted the vision. 
 
 " Who comes there ?" asked Dr. Bryant, throwing 
 off his cloak, and stepping up to the stranger. 
 
 "A peaceful Mexican, in search of cows, and 
 some twenty sheep which strayed away. I think, 
 from your voice, you are an Americano. I am 
 friendly to your people you will not molest me, and 
 I will not harm you." 
 
 44 My friend, I rather doubt your word. These 
 are stormy times for a man to venture out in search 
 of cattle, so far from San Antonio." 
 
 44 1 could tell you a piece of news that would satisfy 
 you that I run less risk than yourself. But, stranger, 
 it's not civil to doubt a man's word, and make him 
 an enemy whether he will or not." 
 
 44 1 am willing to receive your proffered proof of 
 sincerity, and hope to find you unlike your fickle 
 nation. Come, tell the news which sanctions this 
 long ramble of yours. These are dark days, and it 
 becomes every man to look well to his own safety, 
 and likewise watch his neighbor's movements." 
 
 4 * I will do you a kindness, stranger; turn your 
 horse's head, and let moon-rise find you where you 
 drank water at noon. San Antonio is no place for
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 263 
 
 Americans now. Santa Anna has taken the Alamo; 
 and all of your people lie low. Not one was spared 
 to carry the tale to Austin no, not one !" 
 
 Dr. Bryant groaned in spirit, and his extended 
 arm sunk to his side. 
 
 " O God ! hast thou forsaken us ? Surely thou wilt 
 yet listen to the voice of justice and liberty," he 
 murmured to himself, and there was a pause. 
 
 " How long since the ill-fated Alamo fell ?" he in- 
 quired. 
 
 " Five days ago. Hintzilopotchli came down and 
 held his bloody feast and cut off many brave men." 
 
 " By what force was the fortress assaulted ?" 
 
 " Seven thousand men, led by the great and vic- 
 torious Santa Anna. Not long lasted the strife : we 
 were too many for your people, and the fight was 
 short." 
 
 " And was our noble Travis slaughtered with his 
 brave band ?" 
 
 " He was too brave to live. Think you he would 
 survive his comrades ? No! he fell first, and then all 
 followed." 
 
 " Will Santa Anna march to Austin think you; or, 
 content with victory, remain in your town ?" 
 
 " Truly, you give me credit for few brains and a 
 woman's tongue. I have told you one true tale, can 
 you expect another from a fickle Mexican ? I tell 
 you now, stranger, push me not too closely, if you 
 would hear what is good for you." 
 
 " Your voice sounds strangely familiar; yet I can- 
 not recognize it sufficiently to know with whom I am
 
 264 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 speaking. If, as you declare, friendly to our people, 
 you will not object to giving your name. Perhaps I 
 have known you in San Antonio." 
 
 " We Mexicans can tell a friend across the prairie 
 "but no matter. I am thinking we be strangers, 
 yet I am not ashamed of my name. They call me 
 Antoine Amedo did you ever hear of such an 
 ' hombre ?' My ranch is just below the mission San 
 Jose, and I have large flocks of sheep and cattle." 
 
 " Antoine Amedo/' repeated Dr. Bryant, mus- 
 ingly, and striving, through the gloom, to scan his 
 features. " You are right ; I do not know you, 
 though your voice is familiar." 
 
 " If you have no objection, Sefior Americano, I 
 will let my horse picket awhile, and rest myself; for 
 I have ridden many miles since sunrise, and not a 
 * barego ' have I smelled." 
 
 " You are at liberty to rest as long as you please: 
 consult your own inclinations." And he turned 
 away to his own horse, yet marked that the new 
 comer dismounted with some difficulty. 
 
 He changed his own picket, that fresh grass might 
 not be wanting; and returning to the tree, leaned 
 against its huge body, and watched the movements 
 of the intruder. They were very slow, as if he were 
 well-nigh spent with over-exertion. He took off his 
 broad hat, smoothed his hair, then replaced it ; ad- 
 justed his heavy blanket more comfortably, and 
 drawing forth a sort of wallet, proceeded to satisfy 
 the cravings of hunger. He ate but little, and re- 
 turning the bag or sack to its hiding-place in the
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 265 
 
 broad girdle which was passed about his waist be- 
 neath the blanket, stretched himself on the ground, 
 with not even a straggling bough between him and 
 the deep blue vault of heaven. 
 
 No sound broke the silence, save the cropping of 
 the horses as they grazed near; and, seeking again 
 his grassy couch, Dr. Bryant closed his eyes, and 
 communed with his own heart. Sleep was now im- 
 possible, and he iay so rapt in thought, that time 
 flew on unheeded. The moon was shining brightly 
 now, and every object was distinctly seen. He 
 heard the rustling of leaves and the crush of grass. 
 A moment he opened his eyes, then closed them, and 
 feigned sleep. 
 
 The Mexican had risen, and softly approaching 
 the motionless form, knelt on the ground beside him, 
 and listened to his breathing. It was low and reg- 
 ular, as one in quiet slumber. He bent and gazed 
 into the up-turned face not a muscle quivered or a 
 feature moved. Stealthily a hand crept round the 
 collar of the cloak, and lifted a heavy lock of the 
 raven hair. Smoothing it out on the grass, he drew 
 forth a crooked blade, which, in accordance with the 
 custom of his countrymen, ever hung in the girdle 
 passed about the waist. It glittered in the moon- 
 light ; and with dexterous hand he cut the lock of 
 hair: then, returning the knife to its resting-place, 
 rose, and noiselessly retreating to his former posi- 
 tion, some yards distant, threw himself down to 
 sleep. 
 
 Dr. Bryant, fully conscious of every movement,
 
 266 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 determined, if possible, to solve this mystery. His 
 pistols were in readiness, and, had violence been at- 
 tempted, he would have sprung to his feet and de- 
 fended himself. He waited awhile, then turned, 
 stretched, yawned, and finally rose up. He drew 
 out his watch, the hand pointed to two. He wound 
 it up, and drawing his cap closer about his ears, for 
 the night was cold, approached his companion and 
 stirred him with his foot. No sound or movement 
 indicated consciousness ; he stooped and shook him. 
 
 " Antoine, Antoine, get up my friend : you don't 
 intend to spend the night here, do you ?" 
 
 Amedo sat upright, and rubbed^his eyes with well- 
 feigned sleepiness : " Well, Sefior Americano, what 
 is it Indians smelling about ?" 
 
 Dr. Bryant could not repress a smile at the drowsy 
 tone of the ranchero, who scarce five minutes before 
 had crept from his side. 
 
 " Upon my word, you seem a match for the seven 
 sleepers of old. Why, man, if Indians had stumbled 
 on you by chance, they had slung your scalp on yon- 
 der bough. In times like these men should slumber 
 lightly." 
 
 " Very true, Senor; yet mine eyes are heavy, for 
 two moons have seen me riding on. But you are 
 up! wherefore ?" 
 
 " I proceed on my journey, and wakened you to 
 ask advice and direction, and request your company 
 if it be that we take the same route." 
 
 " Jesu Maria ! One might think the man had
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 26/ 
 
 choice ! Why, turn your horse's head, and rest for 
 naught but grass and water." 
 
 The Mexican had risen, and in adjusting his 
 blanket, a sudden gust of wind lifted his hat, and 
 it Tell to the ground at his feet ; he clutched at it 
 convulsively, but it was too late. Dr. Bryant started 
 back in astonishment: 
 
 " Inez!" 
 
 The head sunk on her bosom, and the hair which 
 had been confined at the back of her head, fell in 
 luxuriant masses to her waist. 
 
 " Fearless, yet unfortunate girl ! what has led you 
 to this freak ?" 
 
 A singular group they presented, standing on the 
 broad and seemingly boundless prairie the March 
 wind moaning through the old oaks, and rustling the 
 brown grass. The moon shone full upon them ; Dr. 
 Bryant, with his large cloak wrapt closely about 
 him, and the black cap drawn over his brow sur- 
 prise, reproach, pity, and chagrin strangely blended 
 in his gaze. One arm was folded over the broad 
 chest, the other hung by his side. Inez stood just 
 before him, her beautiful head bent so that the black 
 locks well-nigh concealed her features. Her father's 
 large variegated blanket hung loosely about the 
 tall, slender form. At her feet lay the hat, crushed 
 by the extended foot, and quivering in the night 
 wind, her hands tightly clasped. 
 
 " Inez, you crouch like a guilty being before me! 
 Surely you have done nothing to blush for. Yet 
 stranger step was never taken by a reasonable be- 
 Vol. 6 L Evans
 
 268 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 ing. Inez, raise your head, and tell me what in- 
 duced you to venture in this desolate region, alone, 
 unprotected and in disguise ?" 
 
 Inez lifted slowly the once beautiful face, now 
 haggard and pale. Anguish of spirit had left its im- 
 press on her dark brow, wrinkled by early care. 
 Mournful was the expression of the large, dark eyes 
 raised to his face : 
 
 " Dr. Bryant, I am alone in the wide, wide world 
 there is none to protect none to care for me now! 
 My father sleeps by 'Manuel's side, in the church- 
 yard, and I am the last of my house. The name of 
 De Garcia, once so proud and honored, will become 
 a by- word for desolation and misery ! I have said 
 cursed was the hour of my birth, and I now say 
 blessed is the hour of my last sleep ! You see me 
 here from necessity, not choice, for all places would 
 be alike to me now; but I have been driven from 
 my lonely hearth I dared not stay, I flew to this 
 dreary waste for peace for protection! There is 
 no rest, no peace for me. Not one is left to whom 
 I can say, guard and keep me from harm! Alone, 
 friendless, in this wide, bitter world !" 
 
 " Your language is strangely ambiguous, Inez ! 
 Can you not explicitly declare what danger threat- 
 ens, and believe that all I can do to avert evil will 
 gladly be done ?" 
 
 " Dr. Bryant, the Padre is my most inveterate 
 enemy! Is not this sufficient to account for my 
 presence here ?"
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 269 
 
 " Unfortunate girl ! how have you incurred that 
 man's hatred ?" 
 
 " It is a long tale and needless to repeat; enough, 
 that he plotted my ruin that the strong, silent 
 walls of a far-off convent was my destination. And 
 why ? That my flocks and lands might enrich his 
 precious church! You look wonderingly upon me; 
 strange language, this, I think you say, for a lamb of 
 his flock. How dare you speak so irreverently of 
 the holy man, consecrated priest of Rome as he is ? 
 Dr. Bryant, I am no Catholic, nor have I been since 
 you have known me. It was my policy to appear 
 passive. I attended mass, and sought the confes- 
 sional, and all the while cursed him in my heart. I 
 watched him, and saved your people from destruc- 
 tion. Would you know how ? I heard whispered 
 promises to meet at dead of night. I followed ; I 
 saw the meeting between an emmissary of Santa 
 Anna and my godly Padre. At imminent risk I 
 listened to their plot. You were to be kept in ignor- 
 ance of the powerful force hurrying on to destroy 
 you. Santa Anna was to burst suddenly upon the 
 town, and, ere you could receive reinforcements, 
 capture the Alamo at a blow. Once in his posses- 
 sion, more than one of your people were to be handed 
 over to the tender mercies of my holy confessor. I 
 warned you of your danger, and happily you heeded 
 the signs of the time; else you, too, would now 
 moulder beneath the walls of the Alamo. His prey 
 escaped him, and with redoubled eagerness he sought 
 to consummate my destruction. I was made a prift-
 
 2/0 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 oner in my own home ere the sod settled on my 
 father's grave! I fled in the midnight hour, and 
 you see me here! Dr. Bryant, I well-nigh cut short 
 the knotted thread of my life ; but one thing saved 
 me, else my body would even now whirl along the 
 channel of the river. When I parted from the 
 blue-eyed, sainted Mary, she gave me this book and 
 asked me not only to read but follow its teachings. 
 She clasped my hand, and told me to remember 
 God and the eternity which awaited me, and the 
 judgment of that other, final world. Oh! if there 
 be a heaven and a purgatory ! a God and a judge ! 
 if I sink to perdition, one alone is to blame. He told 
 me he had power to forgive my sins ; that the more 
 completely I obeyed him on earth the more blessed 
 I should be in heaven. Yet I have heard him lie, 
 and seen him set aside the rules of humanity and the 
 laws of God ! Mary's Bible tells me * to keep holy 
 the Sabbath day.' Yet from my childhood, I have 
 seen our Priests at mass on Sabbath morning, and at 
 monte and cock-fights on the evening of the same 
 day ! And I have seen them take from the widow, 
 as the burial-fee of her husband, the last cow she 
 possessed. I saw these things and I said there is no 
 God, or he would not suffer such as these to minister 
 as his chosen servants upon the earth. I said in my 
 heart, purgatory is but a lie made to keep pace with 
 their marvellous legends and frequent miracles! 
 There is not a purgatory, or they would fear the re- 
 tribution in store for them. I had none to teach me 
 aright. I mocked at the thought of religion. I said
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 2/1 
 
 there is none on the earth it is merely a system of 
 gain, and all that constitutes the difference is, that 
 some are by nature more of devils, and others gifted 
 with milder hearts. But I saw Mary pure angel 
 that she is I saw her with the sick and the dying; 
 she railed not at our priest, as he at her. She car- 
 ried her Bible to the bed of death, and told them to 
 look to God for themselves. She bade them leave 
 off saint- worship and cling to Jesus as their only 
 Mediator. Peace followed her steps, and much good 
 she would have done, but my Padre interfered, per- 
 emptorily ordered all good Papists to shun her as 
 they would an incarnate demon, and frightened 
 many into submission with his marvellous tales and 
 threats of purgatory. I said to myself, if there be 
 truth in God and religion, this Mary walketh in the 
 right path, for like an angel of mercy and light she 
 ever seems. She was the hope, the joy, the blessing 
 of all who knew her. Oh ! I will come to you, Mary, 
 and learn of you, and die near, that you may be with 
 me in the hour of rest." 
 
 Inez sank on the ground, and burying her face in 
 her arms, rocked herself to and fro. Dr. Bryant 
 had listened to her rambling, incoherent language, 
 like one in a dream, till the name of Mary passed 
 her lips, and then his head sank upon his chest, and 
 he groaned in the anguish of his tortured spirit. 
 
 Inez held in one hand the small Bible given at 
 parting; his eye fell upon it, and he stepped nearer 
 to her: 
 
 " Inez, the Mary you have loved reets no longer
 
 272 INEZ 5 A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 on earth. She has passed away, and dwells in 
 heaven. She was true to God, and his holy law, and 
 great is her reward. Scarce a week since I laid her 
 in her quiet grave, yet not there either, but yielded 
 her up the arms of God !" 
 
 He paused, for his deep tone faltered. Inez rose 
 quickly to her feet as he spoke, and gazed vacantly 
 on his face. 
 
 " Mary gone forever! Mary in heaven! Shall 
 I never again see her, sweet angel of truth and 
 purity, with her soft blue eyes, so full of holy love 
 and gentleness ? Oh, Mary, thou art blessed ! thou 
 art at rest! When shall I, too, find eternal rest? 
 Ere long, Mary, I, too, will sleep the last, unbroken, 
 dreamless sleep!" 
 
 Dr. Bryant laid his hand on the sacred volume, 
 and would have drawn it from her clasp; but tight- 
 ening her hold, she shook her head, and mournfully 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " No, no; it is mine! When I die, it shall be my 
 pillow; while I live, it rests near my heart, and in 
 the church-yard I will not let it go. You have no 
 right to claim it : you have not loved her as I have 
 done. She loved you, yet you needed not the jewel 
 that might have, even now, been your own!" 
 
 " Inez, I have loved I do love her, as none other 
 can ! Too late I found my love returned. Had God 
 spared her to me, she would have been my wife. 
 Oh, Mary, Mary! my own cherished one? May thy 
 spirit hover round me now, as in life thou wert my 
 guardian angel! Inez, I, too, have suffered, and
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 273 
 
 severely. I have little to anticipate in life, yet I am 
 not desponding as you, my faith in God and his tin- 
 changing goodness is unshaken. Let us both so live 
 that we may join my Mary in glory." 
 
 Inez answered not, but passed her hand wearily 
 across her brow. 
 
 " Inez, which will you do ? retain your disguise, 
 and go with me, or return to your old home ? I am 
 not going to Austin, but to Goliad, to join the 
 Texans there ; will you accompany me, and claim 
 the protection of our banner ? All that a brother 
 could, I will gladly do; with me you are safe, at least 
 for a time; and when the storm of war has passed, 
 I doubt not your home will again be happy." 
 
 " I know you, Dr. Bryant, and I know that you are 
 true to God, and keep his law. I will go with you 
 to Goliad, and there we will decide what I must do. 
 Oh ! I am weary and sick at heart, and not long will 
 I burden you." 
 
 She stooped, and picking up the hat, replaced it 
 on her head, and turned toward her horse. 
 
 Frank kindly took her hand. 
 
 " Inez, do not despond. I trust all may yet be 
 well with you, and rest assured it gives me heartfelt 
 pleasure to be enabled to render you a service, and 
 take you to a place of safety. But your hand is hot 
 burning : it is feverish excitement from which you 
 suffer. When we have reached Goliad, and you can 
 rest, I doubt not your strength and spirits will re- 
 turn; meantime take one of my pistols, it is loaded^ 
 and, in case of danger, will render good service."
 
 274 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 She took the proffered weapon, and having secured 
 it in the girdle turned to mount her horse. Frank 
 assisted in arranging the accoutrements, and, spring- 
 ing upon his own spirited steed, they turned their 
 faces southward. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 ''Our bosoms we'll bare to the glorious strife, 
 
 And our oath is recorded on high, 
 To prevail in the cause that is dearer than life, 
 Or crushed in its ruins to die. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 And leaving in battle no blot on his name, 
 Look proudly to heaven, from the death-bed of fame.* 
 
 Campbell. 
 
 A BLOODY seal was set upon thee, oh ! Goliad. A 
 gory banner bound around thy name ; and centuries 
 shall slowly roll ere thou art blotted from the mem- 
 ory of man. The annals of the dim and darkened past 
 afford no parallel for the inhuman deed, so calmly, 
 so deliberately committed within thy precincts ; and 
 the demon perpetrator escaped unpunished ! A per- 
 fect appreciation of the spirit of the text, " Ven- 
 geance is mine, saith the Lord; I will repay," alone 
 can sanction the apathy manifested by one to whom 
 the world looked as the avenger of his murdered 
 countrymen.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 2/5 
 
 Rumors of the fall of the Alamo, the overwhelm- 
 ing force of Santa Anna, and his own imminent 
 danger, had reached Colonel Fanning. In vain he 
 entreated reinforcements, in vain urged the risk 
 hourly incurred. The Texan councils bade him 
 save himself by flight. " Retreat, fly from the post 
 committed to my keeping!" The words sounded 
 like a knell on the ear of the noble man to whom 
 they were addressed. He groaned in the anguish 
 of his spirit, " I will not leave this fortress Travis 
 fell defending with his latest breath the Alamo! 
 Oh, Crocket ! Bowie ! can I do better than follow your 
 example, and give my life in this true cause ?" 
 
 An untimely death the separation and misery of 
 his darling family, weighed not an atom! " Patria 
 infelici fidelis!" was ever his motto, and unfaltering 
 was his own step. There came a messenger from 
 headquarters " Abandon Goliad, and retreat!" 
 
 " Colonel, you will not sound a retreat ?" and Dr. 
 Bryant laid his hand upon his commander's arm. 
 
 " My God ! it is a fearful thing to decide the des- 
 tinies r of four hundred brave men ! Bryant, if we 
 remain it is certain death the tragedy of San An- 
 tonio will be re-acted in our case !" 
 
 " Colonel, you must remember the old saw * He 
 that fights and runs away, lives to fight another day," 
 said a time-worn ranger, settling his collar with per- 
 fect nonchalance. 
 
 " Why, Furgeson, do you counsel flight ? My 
 brave comrade, bethink yourself!" 
 
 " Well, Colonel, it is something strange for me to
 
 276 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 say run ; but when I do say it, I am in earnest. The 
 most hot-headed fellow in our company dare not say 
 I lack courage: you know as well as I do what they 
 call me ' Bull-dog Furgeson,' but who feels like 
 fighting the grand devil himself, and his legion of 
 imps to boot ? I am a lone man, and have nothing 
 in particular to live for, it's true; but it is some 
 object with me to do the most service I can for our 
 Lone blessed Star ! I should like a game with old 
 " Santy in a clear ring, and fair play ; but I am think- 
 ing we had best take French leave of this place, and 
 join the main body, where we can fight with some 
 chance ahead. Now that's my opinion, but if you 
 don't believe that doctrine, and want to take the 
 * old bull right by the horns,' I say lets at him." 
 
 A smile passed over the face of his commander. 
 
 " Thank you, Furgeson, and rest assured I shall 
 not doubt your stanch support in time of need." 
 
 Again the broad brow contracted, and, linking 
 his arm in that of Dr. Bryant, he paced to and fro, 
 engrossed in earnest, anxious thought. Pausing at 
 length, he pointed to his troops, awaiting in silence 
 his commands. 
 
 Bryant, at least half those brave fellows have wives 
 and children, and bright homes, beckoning them 
 away, yet see them calmly trust to me in this trying 
 hour. Should my order go forth to man the fort, 
 and meet the worst, I know full well not a murmur 
 would be heard. Still it is equally certain that, if 
 we brave the conflict, not one of us shall survive to
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 2/7 
 
 tell the tale. What am I to do ? Make this a second 
 Thermopylae ?" 
 
 " Peculiarly painful, I know full well is the situa- 
 tion in which you are placed. Yet one strong argu- 
 ment remains to be urged. Colonel, if we desert 
 Goliad, and sound a retreat, we can not escape. The 
 force of the enemy is too powerful, their movements 
 too rapid, to allow us to retire to a place of safety 
 without a desperate encounter. Is it not better 
 policy to remain here, and meet the shock ?" 
 
 " If we fight at all it must be at fearful odds ; four 
 hundred to six thousand ! Yet, should I follow the 
 dictates of my own heart, I would not give one inch ! 
 no, not onej Dearly they should buy the ground 
 on which I stand!" 
 
 " Colonel, shall we not meet them on this spot, 
 and lay down our lives, as did our brethren of the 
 Alamo ?" 
 
 " No, by Jove ! I shall have to leave, whether I 
 will or not !" And crumpling the note of orders, he 
 tossed it to the ground, and pressed it with his heel. 
 
 He stepped forth, and drawing his military cap 
 about his eyes, folded his arms upon his broad chest, 
 and addressed his troops : 
 
 " Comrades ! Retreat is no test of an army's 
 bravery, neither the courage of its commander. In 
 every age and nation, circumstances have occurred 
 in which the cause of liberty, or the general welfare 
 of the state, has been promoted by timely flight 
 rather than desperate engagements. ' The Swamp 
 Fox ' often retired to his island of refuge, safe from
 
 2/8 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 invading bands the daring Sumter was forced at 
 times to retreat; and even our great Washington 
 fled from superior forces, and waited till a more con- 
 venient season. Fellow-soldiers: there is one of two 
 steps to be immediately taken. We will stand to 
 our post, and fall to a man, like Travis and his noble 
 b.-.nd, and our names will go down to posterity as 
 did the Spartans of old, 
 
 ' Wreathed with honor, and immortal fame ;' 
 
 or else we set out at once for head- quarters, con- 
 solidate our forces, and march united to oppose Santa 
 Anna. 
 
 " Comrades, what shall we do ?" 
 
 No sound was heard along the ranks, each bent 
 his head and communed with his own spirit ; and 
 the image of their distant, yet cherished homes, rose 
 up and murmured " Remember thy weeping wife 
 and thy fair- browed boy; who will guard them when 
 thou art gone ?" 
 
 The eagle eye of their brave leader was piercingly 
 bent on the mute assemblage ; the momentary gleam 
 of hope that lighted his noble countenance faded 
 away. There came a faint sound of rising voices 
 it swelled louder, and louder still : 
 
 " God bless our noble Colonel ! our brave Fanning! 
 With him is the issue. Say but the word, and we 
 wiH follow!" 
 
 ' Bryant, I can not sign their death-warrant !" he 
 said, in a low, subdued tone, sinking his head upon
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 279 
 
 his breast. He lifted himself up, and raising his 
 voice, calmly replied: 
 
 " Had I not received orders to retreat, and if I 
 were not fully aware that lingering here insured our 
 total destruction, I should scorn to turn my back 
 upon Goliad ! Oh ! gladly I would die in its defense ; 
 but your fate is too entirely in my hands to admit of 
 following my individual wishes! None know the 
 pang it causes me to sound a ' Retreat,' yet it may 
 be, that the success of our cause demands it at my 
 hands, and therefore I say, ' Retreat, comrades '* at 
 dawn to-morrow, we move from Goliad." 
 
 The decree went forth, and the ensuing day saw 
 the doomed band moving eastward toward head- 
 quarters they were destined never to reach. 
 
 On arriving at Goliad, Dr. Bryant had immediately 
 enlisted, after placing Inez in safety at the house of 
 an aged Sefiora of her nation ; and no sooner was it 
 decided to leave the town the following day than he 
 sought his Spanish friend. 
 
 She was sitting alone when he entered, and quickly 
 rising, placed a seat for him. 
 
 " Thank you, Inez, I have only a moment to re- 
 main I come to say good- by." 
 
 " Which way do your people go now ?" she hoarsely 
 asked. 
 
 "Santa Anna is marching with overwhelming 
 forces toward us, and Colonel Fanning thinks it ad- 
 visable to retire to headquarters. We set out at 
 dawn to-morrow." 
 
 " You cannot escape by flight : it were better to
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 remain here. I tell you now, if you leave Goliad 
 you will be cut off to a man." 
 
 " Inez, my own feelings would strongly incline me 
 to follow your advice, but it has been decided other- 
 wise!" 
 
 " Then, if you must go, I go with you !" 
 
 " Impossible, Inez, impossible ! you know not what 
 you say ! For you to venture from this place under 
 existing circumstances, beset as we are on every 
 hand with dangers seen and unseen, would be the 
 height of madness." 
 
 " I know not fear ! of that you must have been 
 convinced long ere this. Danger cannot intimidate 
 me; what you meet and suffer, that will I en- 
 counter." 
 
 * Bethink yourself, Inez ! What can you hope to 
 accomplish by this strange step ? You have noth- 
 ing to fear here from your own nation: what can 
 you gain by seeking a home among my people ? 
 Strange, mysterious being, I wish for your own sake 
 you were timid that fear might strengthen your 
 sense of prudence !" 
 
 Inez had bent her head while he spoke, as in hu- 
 miliation, now she lifted herself and said, in a low, 
 determined tone: 
 
 " I am alone in the wide world, and I have but 
 one hope, but one pleasure ; to be with you while 
 life remains, and to die near, that you may close my 
 eyes and lay me down to rest." She paused a mo- 
 ment, and then clasping her hands, approached him, 
 and continued in a more passionate tone :
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 28 1 
 
 " Oh, if you knew how I have loved you, you could 
 not look down so coldly, so calmly upon me ! you 
 could not refuse the favor I ask! Oh, Dr. Bryant, 
 do not scorn me for my love ! 'tis not a common 
 love; for it I have lost every earthly comfort and 
 blessing; for this struggled and toiled, and braved 
 numberless dangers. I have loved you better than 
 every thing beside ! Turn not from me, nor think 
 contemptuously of the worship given unsought ! If 
 you cannot love me, do not, oh, do not despise me! 
 Let me a little while longer be with you, and see 
 you; I will not trouble or incommode anyone do 
 not leave me. Oh, Dr. Bryant, do not leave me!" 
 
 The large black eyes were raised entreatingly to 
 his, and an expression of the keenest anguish rested 
 on her colorless, yet beautiful face. 
 
 Sadly he regarded her as she hurried on : no glance 
 of scorn rested even for a moment upon her. Yet 
 a stern sorrow settled on his broad brow, and around 
 the firmly- compressed lips. 
 
 " Inez, I do not, cannot love you, other than as 
 the kind friend of other days. I have never loved 
 but one I never shall. Mary, my own angel Mary, 
 ever rests in my heart. I cannot forget her I can 
 never love another. I do not even thank you for 
 your love, for your avowal gives me inexpressible 
 pain! I have suspected this, Inez, for long, and 
 your own heart will tell you I gave no ground 
 to hope that I could return your affection. I have 
 striven to treat you like a sister of late, yet this 
 painful hour has not been averted. Equally painful
 
 282 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 to both. Inez, your own words make it more than 
 ever necessary that we should part forever. I can- 
 not return your love I will not encourage it. You 
 must, as soon as safety allows, return to your old 
 home. Inez, do not cherish your affection for me, 
 it can only bring pain and remorse ; forget me, and 
 remember that you have imperative duties of your 
 own to perform. This is your darkest hour, and be- 
 lieve me, in time you will be happy, and a blessing 
 to your people. Remember Mary's words, and her 
 parting gift, and I pray God that we may so live 
 that we shall all meet in a happier home." 
 
 " Then I shall never see you again ?" she said, in 
 a calm and unfaltering voice. 
 
 " For your sake, Inez, it is best that we should not 
 meet again. If I survive this war I go to Europe, 
 and you will probably never see me more. Inez, I 
 pain you forgive me. Your own good requires this 
 candor on my part." 
 
 An ashy paleness overspread the cheek and brow 
 of his companion as he spoke, and the small hands 
 clutched each other tightly, yet no words passed the 
 quivering lips. 
 
 " Good- by, Inez! my kind and valued friend, 
 good- by!" He held out his hand. She raised her 
 head, and gazed into the sad yet noble face of the 
 man she had loved so long. She clasped his hand 
 between both hers, and a moan of bitter anguish es- 
 caped the lips. 
 
 " My love will follow you forever! A woman of 
 my nature cannot forget. I shall sink to eternal
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 rest with your name on my lips your image in my 
 heart. Yet I would not keep you here go, and may 
 your God ever bless you, and and may you at last 
 meet your Mary, if there be a heaven ! We part 
 now, for you have said it ; good-by, and sometimes, 
 when all is joy and gladness to you, think a moment 
 on Inez ! the cursed, the miserable Inez ! sitting in 
 bitter darkness by her lonely hearth! Good-by!'' 
 She pressed her lips to his hand, and without a tear, 
 shrouded her face in her mantilla and turned away. 
 " God bless you, Inez, and keep you from all 
 harm !" and Dr. Bryant left the house, and returned 
 to his commander. 
 
 Colonel Fanning had led his troops but a few miles 
 when the vanguard halted, and some excitement 
 was manifested. Spurring forward, he inquired the 
 cause of delay. 
 
 " Why, Colonel, if we ain't ' out of the frying-pan 
 into the fire,' my name is not Will Furgeson. Look 
 yonder, Colonel, it takes older and weaker eyes than 
 mine to say them ain't Santy Anna's imps marching 
 down upon us, thick as bees just swarmed too !" 
 
 " You are right, Furgeson; it is the entire Mexi- 
 can force ! let us form at once and meet them !" 
 
 Quickly and clearly his orders rang out, and his 
 little band, compact and firm, waited in silence the 
 result. With an exulting shout the Mexicans 
 charged. Desperately the doomed Texans fought, 
 heaping up the slain at every step. The wily Santa 
 Anna changed his tactics. There came a momen-
 
 284 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 tary cessation as the crowding thousands were furi- 
 ously driven back. And, seizing the opportunity, 
 he spurred forward, offered honorable terms, and 
 besought Fanning to surrender and save the lives of 
 his brave followers. 
 
 " We will only surrender on condition that every 
 privilege of prisoners of war be guaranteed to us," 
 replied Colonel Fanning. 
 
 " I, Santa Anna, com mander-in- chief of the Mexi- 
 can force, do most solemnly pledge my word, that all 
 the privileges consistent with your situation as pris- 
 oners of war, shall be extended to yourself and 
 men. And hereby swear, that on these conditions 
 you may lay down your arms in safety, without fur- 
 ther molestation on our part." 
 
 Is there one of my readers, who, for a moment, 
 would attach blame to the noble Fanning ? The 
 lives of his men were of far more importance to 
 him than the renown of perishing, like Travis, in a 
 desperate struggle. With the latter there was no 
 alternative, for the cry of even seven exhausted 
 men for " quarter " was disregarded, and the garri- 
 son fell to a man. But honorable terms were offered 
 Fanning; he remembered his men, and surrendered. 
 Santa Anna ! can there be pardon for such a hard- 
 ened wretch as you ? Does not sleep fly your pil- 
 low ? In the silent watches of the night, do not 
 the spectre forms of your victims cluster about 
 your couch, and the shambles of Goliad rise before 
 you ? Can you find rest from the echoing shrieks of 
 murdered thousands, or shut your eyes and fail /to
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 235 
 
 perceive the mangled forms stiffening in death and 
 weltering in gore ? If you are human, which I much 
 doubt, your blackened soul will be tortured with un- 
 availing remorse, till Death closes your career on 
 earth, and you are borne to the tribunal of Almighty 
 God, there to receive your reward. . . . 
 
 Night found the Texans again in Goliad, and they 
 sought sleep secure from evil; for had not Santa 
 Anna's word been given that further molestation 
 would not be allowed ? and they believed ! Soundly 
 they slept, and dreamed of far-off homes and fireside 
 joys. 
 
 " That bright dream was their last 1" 
 
 Sunrise came, and they were drawn out upon the 
 Plaza. Their leader was retained in custody, and, 
 unsuspicious of harm, they each maintained their 
 position. Dr. Bryant raised his eyes they rested 
 for a moment on Santa Anna's face. Turning 
 quickly, he shouted aloud, 
 
 " Turn, comrades, let us not be shot in the back!" 
 
 Another moment the signal was given, and a 
 deadly fire poured upon four hundred unresisting 
 prisoners of war, to whom honorable conditions had 
 been granted by the brave and noble generalissimo 
 of the Mexican forces. 
 
 Not one of many noble forms was spared. Dr. 
 Bryant sank without a struggle to the earth ; and his 
 spirit, released from sorrowing mortality, sprang up 
 to meet his Mary and his God ! 
 
 The deed was done ; and Santa Anna, the mighty
 
 286 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO 
 
 chief who mowed down four hundred unarmed men 
 was immortalized ! Fear not, brave hearts, that pos- 
 terity will forget you ! Rest assured that the lapse 
 of time can not obliterate the memory of your 
 mighty deeds ! 
 
 Fanning survived but a few hours, and then a 
 well- aimed ball laid low forever his noble head. 
 Who among us can calmly remember that his body 
 was denied a burial? Oh, thou martyr leader of a 
 martyr band, we cherish thy memory! dear to the 
 heart of every Texan, every American, every soldier 
 and every patriot. Peace to thee, noble Fanning! 
 
 It was noon ! Still and cold lay the four hundred 
 forms upon the Plaza. Even as they sank, so they 
 slept. No disturbing hand had misplaced one stif- 
 fened member. The silence of death reigned around 
 the murdered band. A muffled figure swiftly stole 
 down the now deserted streets, and hurrying to the 
 Plaza, paused and gazed on the ruin and wreck that 
 surrounded her. Pools of blood were yet standing, 
 and the earth was damp with gore. One by one 
 Inez turned the motionless forms, still the face she 
 sought was not to be found. She had almost con- 
 cluded her search when her eyes fell on a prostrate 
 form, closely wrapt in along black cloak; she knelt 
 and gazed into the upturned face, and a low cry of 
 bitter anguish welled up and passed her colorless 
 lips. Gently she lifted the cloak, clasped by one icy 
 hand ; the ball had pierced his side and entered the 
 heart. So instantaneous had been his death that
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 28/ 
 
 not a feature was convulsed. The dark clustering 
 hair was borne back from the broad white brow, the 
 eyes closed as in deep sleep, the finely-cut lips just 
 parted. Pallid was the cheek, yet calm and noble 
 beyond degree was the marble face on which Inez 
 gazed. She caught the cold hand to her lips, and 
 laid her cheek near his mouth, that she might know 
 and realize that his spirit had indeed joined Mary's 
 in the " land of rest." The icy touch extinguished 
 every gleam of hope, and calmly she drew the cloak 
 over the loved face, concealing every feature, then 
 dropped her handkerchief upon the covered head, 
 and drawing her mantilla like a shroud about her, 
 went her way to wait for night and darkness. 
 
 Stretched on a couch in the home of the kind- 
 hearted Sefiora who had received her, Inez noted 
 the moments and hours as they passed. An eternity 
 seemed comprised in the time which elapsed from 
 noon till dusk. Again and again she raised her 
 bowed head and looked out on the slowly sinking 
 sun. It passed at length beyond her vision. She 
 rose and sought her friend, an aged dame, whom 
 God had gifted with a gentle heart, keenly alive to 
 the grief and sufferings of another. 
 " Well, Sefiora Inez, what will you have ?" 
 " I have a great favor to ask, yet it is one I doubt 
 not will be granted. Sefiora, among yonder slain is 
 one who in life was ever kind to me and to our 
 people. Since morning he has lain in his own blood ' 
 To-morrow will see them thrown into heaps, and left 
 with scarce sod enough to cover! I cannot, will not
 
 288 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 see him buried so! I myself will lay him down to 
 rest, if Santa Anna claims my life for it to-morrow t 
 I have caused a grave to be dug in a quiet spot, but 
 I cannot bear him to it unassisted. My strength is 
 gone I am well-nigh spent : will you help me to- 
 night ? They will not miss him to-morrow, and none 
 will know till all is at rest ! Sefiora, will you come 
 with me ?" 
 
 " Tell me first, Inez, if it is he who brought you 
 here ; who acted so nobly to me, and bade adieu to 
 you but two days since ?" 
 
 "Yes, the same! will you refuse to assist me 
 now ?" 
 
 " No, by our blessed Virgin ! I will do all an old 
 woman like me can do; yet united, Inez, we shall 
 be strong." 
 
 Wrapping their mantillas about them, they noise- 
 lessly proceeded to the Plaza. Darkness had closed 
 in, and happily they met not even a straggling soldier, 
 for all, with instinctive dread, shunned the horrid 
 scene. They paused as Sefiora Berara stumbled 
 over a dead body, and well nigh slipped in blood: 
 
 " Jesu Maria! my very bones ache with horror! 
 this is no place for me. Sefiorita, how will you 
 keep the body? Oh! let us make haste to leave 
 here!" 
 
 " Hush ! do you see a white spot gleaming yonder r 
 Nay, don't clutch my arm, it is only my handker- 
 chief. I laid it there to mark the place. Come on, 
 step lightly, or you will press the dead." 
 
 With some difficulty they made their way along
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 289 
 
 the damp, slippery ground, now and then catching 
 at each other for support. Inez paused on reaching 
 her mark, and bent down for several moments; then 
 raising herself she whispered : 
 
 " Sefiora, I have wrapped his cloak tightly about 
 him, lift the corners near his feet, while I carry his 
 head. Be careful, lift gently, and do not let the cloak 
 slip." 
 
 Slowly they lifted the motionless form, and steadily 
 bore it away: Inez taking the lead, and stepping 
 cautiously. She left the Plaza and principal streets, 
 and turned toward a broad desolate waste, stretch- 
 ing away from the town, and bare, save a few gnarled 
 oaks that moaned in the March wind. The moon 
 rose when they had proceeded some distance be- 
 yond the last house, and Inez paused suddenly, and 
 looked anxiously about her. 
 
 " Sacra Dio! I trust you have not lost your way.' 
 Holy mother, preserve us if we have gone wrong." 
 
 " I knew we must be near the place : it is under 
 yonder tree ; fear nothing, Sefiora, come on :" and a 
 few more steps brought them to the designated spot. 
 
 A shallow excavation had been made, sufficient to 
 admit with ease the body of a full-grown man ; and 
 on its margin they softly laid their burden down. 
 Every object shone in the elear moonlight, and 
 stranger scene never moon shown upon. A dreary 
 waste stretched away in the distance, and sighingly 
 the wind swept over it. Inez knelt beside the grave, 
 her wan yet still beautiful features convulsed with 
 the secret agony of her tortured soul ; the long raven
 
 290 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 hair floating like a black vail around the wasted 
 form. Just before her stood the old woman, wierd- 
 like, her wrinkled, swarthy face exposed to full view, 
 while the silver hair, unbound by her exertion, 
 streamed in the night breeze. Loosely her clothes 
 hung about her, and the thin, bony hands were 
 clasped tightly as she bent forward and gazed on 
 the marble face of the dead. Wonder, awe, fear, 
 pity, all strangely blended in her dark countenance. 
 
 Inez groaned, and rocked herself to and fro, as if 
 crushed in body and spirit. She could not lay him 
 to rest forever without the bitterest anguish, for in 
 life she had worshiped him, and in death her heart 
 clung to the loved form. Again and again she kissed 
 the cold hand she held. 
 
 " Sefiorita, we must make haste to lay him in, and 
 cover him closely. Don't waste time weeping now; 
 you can not give him life again. Have done, Sefio- 
 rita Inez, and let us finish our work." 
 
 " I am not weeping, Senoral I have not shed a 
 single tear; yet be patient: surely there is yet time." 
 
 Inez straightened the cloak in which Frank Bryant 
 was shrouded, placed the hands calmly by his side, 
 and softly smoothed the dark hair on his high and 
 noble brow. She passionately kissed the cold lips 
 once, then covered forever the loved, loved features, 
 and they carefully lowered the still form into its last 
 resting-place. 
 
 They stood up, and the old dame pointed to the 
 earth piled on either side. Inez shuddered and 
 closed her eyes a moment, as if unequal to the task.
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 2QI 
 
 Her companion stooped, and was in the act of 
 tossing forward a mass of earth ; but Inez inter- 
 posed: " Sefiora, softly! I will do this: remember 
 there is no coffin." 
 
 Fearfully calm was her tone as she slowly pushed 
 in the earth. There was no hollow echo, such as 
 of ttimes rends the heart of the mourner, but a heavy, 
 dull sound of earth crushing earth. Gradually she 
 filled the opening even with the surface, then care- 
 fully scattered the remaining sod. 
 
 " I will not raise a mound, for they would tear 
 him up should they know where I have lain him." 
 Inez walked away, and gathering a quantity of brown, 
 shriveled leaves, and also as much grass as she could 
 draw from the short bunches, sprinkled them on the 
 grave and along the fresh earth. 
 
 " Think you, Sefiora, they will find him here ?" 
 
 " No, no, Sefiorita! none will know that we have 
 buried him. But the night is already far gone, why 
 do you linger ?" 
 
 For a moment longer Inez gazed down upon the 
 new-made grave : " But a few more hours, and I 
 shall sleep here by your side ; farewell till then." 
 
 She turned away, and silently they retraced their 
 steps to the town, reaching without inquiry or 
 molestation their own home. 
 
 Vol. 6 M Evans
 
 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 "So live, that when thy summons comes to join 
 The innumerable caravan, that moves 
 To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take 
 His chamber in the silent walls of death, 
 Thou go not, like the quarry slave, at night 
 Scourged to his dungeon ; but sustained and soothed 
 By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave 
 Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
 About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams." 
 
 Bryant." 
 
 A BRIGHT day in April drew near its close, and 
 the golden rays of the spring sun poured joyously 
 through the open casement into the chamber of 
 death. Yes, the " King of Terrors " drew nigh, and 
 the cold damp, which his black pinions swept on, 
 settled upon the brow of Inez. A few days after 
 the massacre at Goliad, a raging fever crimsoned 
 her cheeks, and lent unwonted brilliance to the large 
 black eyes. Delirium ensued, and wildly the unfor- 
 tunate girl raved of the past of her former love, her 
 hopelessness, her utter desolation. The dreamless 
 sleep of exhaustion followed this temporary mad- 
 ness; long she lay in the stupor so near akin to 
 death, and now, consciousness restored, she awaited 
 in silence her hour! In vain the kind-hearted 
 Sefiora entreated her to see a priest steadfastly she 
 refused At length Madame Berara assumed the
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 293 
 
 responsibility of calling in her own confessor, and 
 silently quitting the room, went in quest of him. 
 Inez suspected the cause of her unusual absence, and 
 too feeble to concentrate her thoughts, turned her 
 face to the wall, and wearily closed her eyes. Yet 
 one hand felt along the cover and beneath the pil- 
 low. For what was she searching on the bed of 
 death ? The thin fingers rested on a small and well- 
 worn Bible, and a tiny package, wrapped in paper 
 and carefully tied. The sacred volume was feebly 
 pushed beneath her head, and mechanically she 
 undid the knot, and drew forth a glossy lock of black 
 hair. Wearily she pressed it to her lips several 
 times, and again folding it away, her hands sank 
 powerless upon her bosom. 
 
 Sefiora Berara re-entered the silent chamber, ac- 
 companied by a priest, clad in the vestments of his 
 order. They approached the bed, and the aged 
 dame, bending over Inez, whispered audibly : 
 
 " I could not find my own Padre, but I bring one 
 who will confess and absolve thee ! Make haste to 
 prepare for heaven." 
 
 " I want neither confession nor absolution! Be- 
 gone ! and let me die in peace," she answered, with- 
 out unclosing the lids, which lay so heavily upon the 
 sunken eyes. 
 
 " Leave us together! I will call thee when thou 
 art wanted," whispered he of the Order of Jesus. 
 The matron immediately withdrew, repeating an 
 Ave Maria; and they were left alone. 
 
 "Inez!'
 
 294 INEZ ' A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 A shudder crept through the wasted form, and, 
 witL a start, she looked upon the face of the intruder. 
 Even in death, hatred was strong; the dim eye 
 flashed, and the cold, damp lips wreathed into a 
 smile of utter scorn: 
 
 " Well, Padre, you have tracked me at last ! It is 
 a pity, though, you had not set out one day later; 
 you would have altogether missed your prey ! But 
 I am content, for I am far beyond your reach !" 
 She gasped for breath, yet ghastly was the mocking 
 smile which lit up her face. 
 
 " Not so, Inez ! you escaped me once ; I have you 
 now! You have defied me in health; but in death 
 I conquer. You cannot die in peace without my 
 blessing. Remember, remember, one sin uncon- 
 fessed will sink you into everlasting perdition! 
 Think you I will absolve you ? Never! never!" 
 
 " What brings you here ? Think you the approach 
 of death will terrify me ? that I shall claim your 
 intercession and absolution! Have you come ho- 
 ping to make a bargain, and receive my order for a 
 hundred sheep, or as many cattle, on condition that 
 you pray me out of purgatory ? I tell you now, if 
 there be such a place, you will surely follow me ere 
 long. We shall not be separated long, my godly 
 Padre !" 
 
 Large drops rolled from her brow, and, gasping, 
 she continued more indistinctly: 
 
 " There is one to stand between us now, even 
 black-browed Death ! and now, as I speak, I see his 
 shadow flung over me. I am dying, and if I am
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 lost, you are to blame! you, and you only! You a 
 man of God ! You forgive my sins, and give me a 
 passport to heaven! Padre, I know you, in all your 
 hypocrisy, and I know that, if there be a God, you 
 have outraged his every law! You have led me 
 astray! You have brought me to this! Padre, I 
 am sinful, full well I know it ; for this is an hour 
 when the barrier which hides the secret soul is 
 thrown down, and every deed and thought stands up 
 boldly for itself. I have not served God ! But oh ! 
 I would not change places with you, leader, teacher, 
 guide, consecrated priest, as you are for you have 
 mocked him ! Yes, mocked him ! set aside his writ- 
 ten word, and instead of Bible truths you told me of 
 Saints, and Relics, and Miracles! You bade me 
 worship the cross, and never once mentioned Him 
 who consecrated it with his agony and blood ! In 
 my childhood I believed your legends and miracles, 
 and trusted such as you to save me. A dreadful 
 curse will rest upon your head, for you came in 
 sheep's clothing, and devoured many precious souls, 
 Padre, I I " In vain she strove to articulate, fur- 
 ther utterance was denied her. The ghastly hue of 
 death settled upon her face. She lifted her eyes to 
 heaven as in prayer; vacantly they wandered to the 
 face of the Padre, now well-nigh as pale as her own, 
 then slowly closed forever. A slight quiver passed 
 over the lips, a faint moan, and Inez was at rest. For 
 long her wearied spirit had cried " Peace ! peace !" 
 and now she laid herself down and slept the long, 
 unbroken sleep of death.
 
 296 INEZ J A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " Oh! you have yearned for rest, 
 May you find it in the regions of the blest." 
 
 As she had died without the pale of the church, 
 they refused the lifeless form a narrow bed in con- 
 secrated ground. Even the ordinary service for 
 the dead was entirely omitted ; and, without a prayer, 
 they committed her to the silent tomb. The kind 
 old dame, remembering her grief at the secret burial 
 of her noble friend, obtained permission to lay her 
 by his side, and, with the fierce bowlings of the tem- 
 pest for her funereal dirge, they consigned Inez the 
 proud, beautiful, gifted, yet unfortunate Inez to rest. 
 Peace, Inez, to thy memory, and may the sod lie 
 lightly on thy early grave ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 " There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told, 
 When two, that are linked with one heavenly tie, 
 With heart never changing, and brow never cold, 
 Love on through all ills, and love on till they die !'* 
 
 Moore. 
 
 " COME, Florence, put on your bonnet; we land in 
 a few moments," said Mr. Stewart, entering the 
 splendidly furnished saloon of a Mississippi steamer, 
 where she sat, book in hand. Quietly the young 
 wife, for such she now was, complied with his re-
 
 INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 297 
 
 quest, and taking her husband's arm, they advanced 
 to the bow of the boat. It was a bright, sunny 
 morning in early May, and the balmy breath of the 
 opening summer wafted gladness to many a weary, 
 aching heart. The margin of the river was fringed 
 with willow, poplar, cotton- wood and cypress, the 
 delicate fresh green foliage contrasting beautifully 
 with the deep azure sky, and the dark whirling 
 waters of the turbid stream. It was such a day as 
 all of us may have known, when nature wore the 
 garb of perfect beauty, and the soothing influence is 
 felt and acknowledged by every one accustomed 
 from childhood duly to appreciate, admire, and love 
 the tair and numberless works of God, who, 
 
 -"Not content 
 
 With every food of life to nourish man, 
 Makes all nature beauty to his eye 
 And music to his ear." 
 
 Florence was gazing intently, as each object re- 
 ceded from her view. They turned an angle in the 
 stream and drew near a landing with only a solitary 
 warehouse visible. She started, and her clasped 
 hands resting on her husband's arm, pressed 
 heavily. He looked down into the flushed face, and 
 said, with a smile : 
 
 " Well, Florence, what is it ? Why do you trem- 
 ble so ?" 
 
 " Mr. Stewart, I can not be mistaken; this is my 
 father's old landing ! Why do you look so strangely^ 
 Oh ! it' you knew what painful memories crowd upon
 
 298 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 my mind you could not smile so calmly!" and her 
 voice faltered. 
 
 Laying his hand tenderly on hers, he replied : 
 
 " You once asked me whereabouts on the river 
 my plantation was situated. I evaded your ques- 
 tion. You are aware that I inherited it from a 
 bachelor uncle. He purchased it from your father, 
 and to your old home, my dear Florence, we have 
 come at last. It is yours again, and I should have 
 told you long ago but feared you might be impatient 
 of the journey : and then it is pleasant to surprise 
 you." 
 
 Ere Florence cauld speak the mingled emotions of 
 her heart, the boat stopped, and the jangling bells 
 warned them to lose no time. 
 
 Mr. Stewart placed her on the bank, and beckon- 
 ing to a coachman mounted on a large heavy car- 
 riage, opened the door, assisted her in, and then 
 cordially shaking the outstretched hand of the ser- 
 vant, inquired if all were well at home ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, sir! all well except your mother. She 
 has had the asthma, but is better. But ain't you 
 going to let me look at your wife? You put her in 
 as if I wan't to see my new mistess." 
 
 Mr. Stewart laughed, and opening the door, bade 
 Florence look out ; she threw back her long mourn- 
 ing veil, and bent forward; their eyes met, and 
 both started with surprise. 
 
 "Isaac!" 
 
 "Miss Florry! sure as I am alive!" and he 
 grasped the white hand heartily.
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 299 
 
 " I cannot understand this at all ! Isaac, how 
 came you here?" 
 
 " Why, you see, when the plantation was sold, we 
 were sold with it ; that's how I came to be here." 
 
 " My dear Florence, it is strange, very strange, 
 that I never once thought of your recognizing the 
 servants, though I should have known you could not 
 forget them. In what capacity did Isaac formerly 
 serve?" 
 
 " He was always our coachman ; and many a ride 
 in childhood I owe to his kindness and wish to make 
 me happy. Isaac, I am verygladto see you again." 
 And her smile confirmed her words. 
 
 Mr. Stewart took the seat by her side, and was 
 closing the door, when the old man interfered. 
 
 u Miss Florry, I know old master is dead we 
 heard that some time ago; but where is Miss Mary ? 
 that blessed good child, that never gave a cross word 
 to one on the plantation. Why didn't she come 
 home with you ?" 
 
 Florence could not reply, and the tears rolled 
 silently over her cheeks. 
 
 " Isaac," said Mr. Stewart, in a low, saddened 
 tone, " Mary has gone to a brighter home in heaven ! 
 She is happier far than she could be even here with 
 us ! She died about a month ago." 
 
 There was a pause, and then, wiping his rough 
 sleeve across his eyes, Isaac slowly said " And Miss 
 Mary is dead ! Well, she has gone to heaven, if ever 
 any body did ! for she was never like common chil- 
 dren Many's the time when my poor little Hannah
 
 3oo INEZ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 was burnt, and like to die, that child has come by 
 herself of dark nights to bring her a cake, or some- 
 thing sweet and good! God bless her little soul' 
 she always was an angel !" and again wiping his eyes 
 he mounted the box and drove homeward. 
 
 Ah ! gentle Mary ! no sculptured monument marks 
 thy resting-place! No eulogistic sermon, no high- 
 flown panegyric was ever delivered on thy life and 
 death! Yet that silent tear of old Isaac's outspoke 
 a thousand eulogies! It told of all thy kindness, 
 charity, love, angelic purity of heart, and called thee 
 " Guardian Angel " of the house of Hamilton. 
 
 Night found Florence sitting alone in the parlor 
 of her old and dearly loved home. The apartment 
 was much as she had left it five years before, and 
 old familiar articles of furniture greeted her on 
 every side. She sat ddwn to the piano, on which 
 in girlhood she had practiced, and gently touched 
 the keys The soft tones, waking the " slumbering 
 chord of memory," brought most vividly back the 
 scenes of other days. Again she stood there, an only 
 cherished daughter, and her father's image as he 
 used to stand leaning against the mantle-piece, rose 
 with startling distinctness before her. And there, 
 too, stood her cousin, with the soft blue eyes and 
 golden curls of her girlhood; and she fancied she 
 heard, once again, the clear, sweet voice, and felt 
 the fond twining of her arms about her. Long 
 forgotten circumstances in primitive freshness 
 rushed upon her mind, and unable to bear the sad 
 associations which crowded up, Florence turned
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 3OI 
 
 away from the instrument, and seating herself on 
 the sofa, gave vent to an uncontrollable burst of 
 sorrow 
 
 " Oh 1 what a luxury it is to weep, 
 And find in tears a sad relief I" 
 
 And calmly Florence wept, not bitterly, for she 
 had had much of sorrow to bear, and schooled her 
 heart to meet grief and sadness. Yet it was hard to 
 come back to her cherished home and miss from her 
 side the gentle playmate of her youth, the parent 
 she had almost idolized, and feel that she had left 
 them in far distant resting-places. She heard her 
 husband's step along the hall, and saw him enter 
 she strove to repress her tears and seem happy, but 
 the quivering lips refused to smile. He sat down, 
 and drawing his arm around her, pressed her face 
 to his bosom, and tenderly said : 
 
 " My mother had much to say, after my long ab- 
 sence, and I could not leave her till this moment. 
 My own heart told me that you suffered, and I 
 longed to come to you and sympathize and cheer." 
 
 " Do not think me weak, Mr. Stewart, because you 
 find me weeping. It is seldom I give vent to my 
 feelings, but to-night I am overwhelmed with recol- 
 lections of the past. Oh ! now, for the first time, I 
 realize Mary has indeed gone forever. Mary! Mary! 
 my heart aches already for you, and your warm, un- 
 changing love ! Oh ! how can I look forward to the 
 long coming years, and feel that I shall never see her 
 again ?"
 
 3<D2 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO. 
 
 " Florence, my own Florence, I would not have 
 you repress a single tear. I know how sadly altered 
 all things are, and what a dreary look your home 
 must bear. All I ask is, that when you feel lonely 
 and unhappy, instead of hiding your grief, come to 
 me, lay your weary head upon my shoulder, and I 
 will strive to cheer you, my precious wife! Let 
 nothing induce you to keep aught from me let per- 
 fect confidence reign between us; and do not, for a 
 moment, doubt that I wish you other than you are. 
 The past is very painful both to you and to me, and 
 the memory of Frank and Mary constantly saddens 
 my spirit. Yet we will look forward to a happier 
 future, and strive to guide and cheer each other." 
 He kissed the broad brow as he spoke, and drew 
 tighter the arm which encircled his wife, as though 
 no danger could assail while he was near. 
 
 " Of late, Mr. Stewart, I have wondered much how 
 you ever learned to love me ; for I am much changed, 
 and in my girlhood I was cold, proud, and often con- 
 temptuous in my manner. Ah, Mary, how different 
 from you ! If I have higher aims in life, and purer 
 joys, I owe it all to her, for she led me to love the 
 law of God, and exemplified in her daily life the 
 teachings of Christ ! But for her, I shudder to think 
 what I should now have been. O God, I thank thee 
 that I am saved even as a burning brand from the 
 fire ! I have hope of happiness on earth, and at last 
 a joyful reunion with the loved ones that have gone 
 on home before me. And you, my husband, help 
 me to conquer myself, to break down my pride, and
 
 INEZ ; A TALE OF THE ALAMO 303 
 
 to be more like Mary. Oh forgive my weakness, 
 and ever love me as you now do !" 
 
 He clasped her to his heart, and whispered " Fear 
 not, Florence, that I will ever love you less! I, too, 
 have faults which you may be called on to excuse, 
 yet all is bright for us, and I trust no common share 
 of happiness will be our portion through life !" 
 
 " Oh, sweet reward of danger past ! 
 
 How lovely, through the tears 
 That speak her heart's o'erflowing joy, 
 
 The young wife's smile appears. 
 The fount of love for her hath gushed, 
 
 Life's shadows all have flown ; 
 Joy, Florence ! thou a heart hast found 
 
 Responding to thine own I" 
 
 THE END.
 
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