It was not a night when either Texans or Mexicans would wish to be abroad, and, as the chill grew sharper and more penetrating, Ned wrapped one of his blankets about his shoulders.
As the night advanced, Ned's sense of oppression deepened.

He felt once more as he had felt at the pyramid, that he was among old dead things.
Ghosts could walk here as truly as they could walk on the banks of the Teotihuacan.

Sometimes as the great cloud lightened the least bit he caught glimpses of the grass and weeds that grew between him and the broken adobe wall which was about fifteen yards away.
Only an hour more, and the second watch would come on.

Ned began to think of his place on the floor, and of the deep and dreamless sleep that he knew would be his.

Then he was attracted by a glimpse of the adobe wall.