would tell them," said Santa Anna in the softest and most
persuasive tones, "that you have been much with me, that you know me,
and that no man has a softer heart or a more just mind."

"I cannot do it," said Ned.

"Why?"

"Because it is not so."

The change on the face of Santa Anna was sudden and startling. His eyes
became black with wrath, and his whole aspect was menacing. The hand of
Cos flew to the hilt of his sword, and he half rose from his chair. But
Santa Anna pushed him back, and then the face of the dictator quickly
underwent another transformation. It became that of the ruler, grave but
not threatening.

"Softly, Cos, my brother," he said. "Bear in mind that he is only a boy.
I offered too much, and he does not understand. He has put away a
brilliant career, but, my good brother Cos, he has left to him your
hospitality, and you will not be neglectful."

Cos sank back in his chair and laughed. Santa Anna laughed. The two
laughs were unlike, one heavy and angry, and the other light and gay,
but their effect upon Ned was precisely the same. He felt a cold shiver
at the roots of his hair, but he was yet silent, and stood before them
waiting.

"You can go," said Santa Anna. "You have missed your opportunity and it
will not come again."

Ned turned away without a word. The Tlascalans were waiting at the door
of the marquee, and he went with them. Once more he slept under the
stars.

CHAPTER VII

THE DUNGEON UNDER THE SEA

Ned, early the next morning, saw Santa Anna with his brilliant escort
ride away toward the capital, while General Cos resumed his march to
Vera Cruz. Almonte did not reappear at all, and the boy surmised that he
was under orders to join the dictator.

Ned continued on foot among the Tlascalans. Cos offered him no kindness
whatever, and his pride would not let him ask for it. But when he looked
at his sore and bleeding feet he always thought of the patient burro
that he had lost. They marched several more days, and the road dropped
down into the lowlands, into the tierra caliente. The air grew thick and
hot and Ned, already worn, felt an almost overpowering languor. The
vegetation became that of the tropics. Then, passing through marshes and
sand dunes, they reached Vera Cruz, the chief port of Mexico, a small,
unhealthy city, forming a semicircle about a mile in length about the
bay.

Ned saw little of Vera Cruz, as they reached it at nightfall, but the
approach throu