She had heard from her father many a time the whole brave, brilliant story--the same story which has been made in all ages from the beginning of time.

Only the week before, they had talked it over as they sat under the great fig-tree together.
"History but repeats itself," the doctor had said then; "for when the Mexicans drove the Spaniards, with their court ceremonies, their monopolies and taxes, back to Spain, they were just doing what the American colonists did, when they drove the English royalists back to England.

It was natural, too, that the Americans should help the Mexicans, for, at first, they were but a little band of patriots; and the American-Saxon has like the Anglo-Saxon an irresistible impulse to help the weaker side.

And oh, Antonia! The cry of Freedom! Who that has a soul can resist it ?" She remembered this conversation as she stood in the pallid dawning, and watched her father ride swiftly away.

The story of the long struggle in all its salient features flashed through her mind; and she understood that it is not the sword alone that gives liberty--that there must be patience before courage; that great ideas must germinate for years in the hearts of men before the sword can reap the harvest.
The fascinating memory of Burr passed like a shadow across her dreaming.
The handsome Lafayettes--the gallant Nolans--the daring Hunters--the thousands of forgotten American traders and explorers--bold and enterprising--they had sown the seed.