It was the swaying strains of the dance, and it would have been soothing to anyone, whose mind was not forced elsewhere.

The flowers and the palms rippled gently under a light breeze, but Ned did not hear them.

He was waiting to hear Cos speak of what was in the mind of himself and the other men on the piazza, the same things that were in the minds of the Texans in the shrubbery.
"Have you any further word from the Texan desperadoes, General ?" asked Veramendi, at last.
Swish went the general's cane, and a flower fell from its stem.
"Nothing direct," he replied, his voice rising in anger.
"They have not sent again demanding my surrender knowing that a messenger would be shot.

The impudence of these border horsemen passes all belief.

How dare a few hundred such men undertake to besiege us here in San Antonio?
What an insult to Mexico!" "But they can fight," said Ugartchea.