In a few minutes she uttered a shrill cry.

It was in a voice so strained, so piercing, so unlike her own, that the Senora leaped from her bed.
Antonia turned to meet her mother with white, parted lips.

She was speechless with excess of feeling, but she pointed to the Alamo.

The black flag was no longer there! A white one was flying in its place.
"IT IS A SURRENDER!" gasped Antonia.

"IT IS A SURRENDER!" and, as if in response to her words, a mighty shout and a simultaneous salute of rifles hailed the emblem of victory.
An hour afterwards a little Mexican boy came running with all his speed.
He brought a few lines from Don Lopez.