light, and she hurried on toward the bridge: swift was her step,
yet noiseless, and she glided on like a being from another world,
so stealthy were her movements. The bridge was gained at length and
almost passed, when she descried in the surrounding gloom a dark
figure approaching from the opposite direction. Closer she drew the
mantle about her form, and slackened her rapid pace. They met, and the
stranger paused and bent eagerly forward:

"Who goes there?"

The voice was well known. Inez's heart gave a quick bound, and she
answered:

"Inez de Garcia!"

"Why, where are you roaming to this dark night, Inez? Are you not
afraid to venture out alone and so far from home?"

"No, Doctor, I have no fears; I was never a coward you know; and
besides, who would harm me, an unoffending woman? Surely your people
will not molest me?"

"No, certainly not. But, Inez, I hope you are not bending your steps
toward the Alamo?"

"I am a friend to the Americans, though they have taken the last of my
family there was to give. Yet I will be true to Mary and to you. Fear
nothing for me, and let me pass on my errand."

He stood aside. "Bueño noche, Señorita."