ico. He was in the full uniform of a general
officer, for he was preparing to ride out and attend a review of a
division of the really large army which he had gathered to move against
the American invaders at the north. He deemed himself favored by
fortune, for all things had thus far appeared to operate in the
direction of his high ambition. He was in possession of undisputed
power, and his time for making his supremacy permanent had arrived. It
was the morning of the 4th of August, 1846, and it promised to be a
splendid day for a parade. He had eloquently appealed to all the
patriotism in the land, and he had used his last dollar in raising the
troops who were to win his victories and place him firmly upon the
throne of Anahuac, the lost throne of the Montezumas. A large part of
his forces had already marched, and he was now to follow with the
remainder. It was high time that he should do so, for General Taylor's
army was daily drawing nearer the Mexican lines at the city of Monterey.
Not many minutes later, he rode away from the palace, attended by a
brilliant staff, through crowded streets, where every hat went off and
all the voices shouted "Viva Paredes" with every appearance of
enthusiasm.

That morning Ned Crawford had not felt like going out of the city to see
any review. Days had passed since the departure of General Zuroaga, but
Ned's head was full of what his friend had said to him, and he did not
care much in what direction his feet might take him. So, having all that
responsibility to themselves, they carried him on across the city until,
when he looked around him, he saw that he had almost reached the front
gate of the out-of-date fort, which was known as "the citadel." It
always contained a large garrison, not by any means for the defence of
the capital from external foes, but for the protection of whatever might
be the "government" for the time being from any sudden tumult or
attempted revolution. There were officers and a squad of soldiers
standing a few paces out in front of the wide-open military portal, and
they all were gazing intently in the same direction. Ned also turned to
look, but all that he could see was a solitary rider, upon what seemed
to be an all but exhausted horse, urging the panting animal toward the
citadel.

"Colonel Guerra!" exclaimed Ned. "What has brought him all the way from
Vera Cruz? Has our army come? Is the city taken?"

Nothing of that kind had yet occurred, but there