Lorenzo's Revolutionary Quest Read Online Free PDF Page B

Orleans?”
    â€œHow the hell should I know?”
    â€œSan Antonio, dear cousin. The capital of the Province of Texas.”
    â€œWhy would Bannister and his men head there?”
    â€œI should like to think they have come to their senses and are deserting the rebel army, but I rather imagine we can’t be that lucky, now can we? What do you know about San Antonio?”
    â€œNot much.”
    Major Hawthorne handed him a map.
    Dunstan uncurled it and studied it.
    His cousin continued. “A chain of Spanish missions runs along the San Antonio River—five missions in all—San Antonio de Valero, San José, Concepción, San Juan, and Espada.”
    Dunstan followed the river’s meandering path and located the missions.
    â€œAll are under the protection of Fort San Antonio de Bexar. Ninety-three soldiers and officers guard the garrison. They do little more than drill and attend to routine duties. The village of San Antonio consists of about twelve hundred settlers, most from the Canary Islands. The number of Indians inside mission walls is everchanging, for they come and go at will.”
    â€œIs that traitor Washington recruiting Indians to his side?”
    â€œNo. The Spanish and the Indians have been fighting for years. I quite imagine Bannister and his men are after something else.”
    â€œWhat? There’s nothing in Texas but barbarians and wild beasts.”
    â€œWhat kinds of wild beasts? Let’s ponder that a moment, shall we? The ranches around San Antonio are filled with horses and cattle. No doubt there are more cattle than people in Texas.”
    Dunstan stroked his lower lip thoughtfully. “Horses and cattle are two things Washington needs badly.”
    â€œDesperately,” Major Hawthorne corrected. “And the rebels will go to any length to acquire them.”
    â€œAll the way to Texas?”
    Major Hawthorne gave him a wicked grin.
    Dunstan studied the map again. “It’s a long way from Texas to the colonies. They would have to drive the cattle overland to . . . No. Not overland. That poses too many problems. Rough terrain. Wild beasts. Indians. If I were Bannister, I would head to the Gulf of Mexico to put the cattle on a waiting ship.”
    â€œAnd how would you get the cattle from the beach to the ship? Row them one by one to a ship anchored in the bay and hope they climb aboard? No, Dunstan. For such an operation, you need a port with docks for loading cattle, a port such as New Orleans. I want you to find out Bannister’s plans and report back to me.” Major Hawthorne half-smiled. “For this mission, you will travel alone and out of uniform.”
    â€œAnd if I’m caught, I will hang as a spy!”
    â€œPish posh!” He took an envelope from the mantle. “If you are arrested in New Orleans, simply wave these papers under someone’s nose and say you are cultural attaché at the British Embassy. They give you diplomaticprivilege.”
    Dunstan frowned. “New Orleans? Why not San Antonio?”
    His cousin let out an exasperated breath. “You can hide out at our embassy in New Orleans, but in San Antonio . . . For God’s sake, Duns. Think! You don’t speak Spanish well enough to pass for a Spaniard!”
    Upon hearing his childhood nickname, Dunstan leaped from his seat. “Don’t call me that! No one calls me that. Ever!” He hated his name. On the first day of school, the biggest bully there had shortened Dunstan to “dunce.” The schoolmaster, an old man hard of hearing, hadn’t caught the whispered insult, but nearby students had. They giggled while Dunstan steamed. Far from being a dunce, he knew he was smarter than anyone in the whole school. During recess, Dunstan sought out the bully and picked a fight, determined to put a stop to the name before it stuck. He bloodied his opponent’s nose.
    Over time, Dunstan systematically moved from student to