always hope in the very heart of despair.

Ned sat a long time, feeling the new life rushing into his veins. He ate
from the food of which he had a plentiful supply and once more gave
thanks to Benito and Juana. Then he stood up and the broad leaves of the
palm waving gently in the wind touched his face again. He reached up his
hand and stroked them. The palm was to him almost a thing of life. He
went to the edge of the pyramid and strove for a sight of the
Teotihuacan. He caught at last a flash of its waters in the moonlight
and he shook his fist in defiance. "I can do without you now," was his
thought. "The sight of you does not torture me."

He returned to his usual place of sleep. As long as he had a water
supply it was foolish of him to attempt an escape through the Mexican
lines. He was familiar now with every square inch of the twenty feet
square of the crowning platform of the pyramid. It seemed that he had
been there for weeks and he began to have the feeling that it was home.
Once more, hunger and thirst satisfied, he sought sleep and slept with
the deep peace of youth.

Ned awoke from his second night on the pyramid before dawn was complete.
There was silvery light in the east over the desolate ranges, but the
west was yet a dark blur. He looked down and saw that nearly all the
soldiers were still asleep, while those who did not sleep were as
motionless as if they were. In the half light the lost city, the tumuli
and the ruins of the old buildings took on strange and fantastic shapes.
The feeling that he was among the dead, the dead for many centuries,
returned to Ned with overpowering effect. He thought of Aztec and Toltec
and people back of all these who had built this city. The Mexicans below
were intruders like himself.