Ned saw Mexican women there in their dresses of bright colors, like Roman women in the Colosseum, awaiting the battle of the gladiators.

The atmosphere was surcharged with excitement, and the sense of coming triumph.
Ned's breath seemed to choke in his throat and his heart beat painfully.
Once more he wished with all his soul that he was with his friends, that he was in the Alamo.

He belonged with them there, and he would rather face death with those familiar faces around him than be here, safe perhaps, but only a looker-on.

It was with him now a matter of the emotions, and not of reasoned intellect.

Once more he looked toward the old mission, and saw the dim outline of the buildings, with the dominating walls of the church.