"More magic!" commented Myra, as Dolores set a chair for her and poured out a glass of cognac which she insisted upon Myra drinking at once. Then she poured out coffee, gabbled something about the "bueno maestro," and withdrew. Left alone, Myra sipped the fragrant coffee and looked about her with interest. "This is certainly brigandage up to date!" she reflected. "I wonder what manner of man El Diablo Cojuelo is?" A minute or two later she heard a movement behind her and glanced over her shoulder expecting to see Mother Dolores, but saw instead the hooded figure of El Diablo Cojuelo. Instinctively, she drew her silken dressing-gown closer around her and started to her feet. "I am sorry if I startled you, senorita," said Cojuelo. "It is a delightful surprise to find you like this." "Dolores seemed to be insisting that I must come here for my coffee," explained Myra, recovering her composure. "I instructed Madre Dolores to ask you to do me the honour of returning here to have a talk with me before you retired, senorita, forgetting that you do not understand much Spanish," responded Cojuelo. "I hardly hoped to find you in neglige. You are a vision of beauty to ravish the heart of any man, sweet lady." "Thanks for the compliment, senor," said Myra coldly. "If I had understood you wished to talk to me, I should not have prepared to retire. Surely anything you have to say will keep until to-morrow. Meanwhile, I shall be thankful for a cigarette." "Pardon!" exclaimed Cojuelo, turning quickly to pick up the silver cigarette-box from the table, and proffering it. "Your favourite brand, you perceive. You will give El Diablo Cojuelo credit, I hope, for making provision for your comfort." "You certainly seem to be something of a magician," commented Myra, as she helped herself to a cigarette and accepted a light. "Perhaps you are in league with the Devil, and that is why you are known as El Diablo Cojuelo! I should be interested to know how you managed to get some of my clothes here, together with my toilet requisites." "That was not the work of the devil, senorita," the hooded figure answered, with a muffled laugh, "El Diablo Cojuelo thinks of everything, and had made his preparations in advance. Did I not tell you all the servants of El Castillo de Ruiz were in my pay? It was a simple matter, therefore, to have some of your things smuggled out of the castle before the raid. Pray be seated, senorita." He waved his hand invitingly towards the couch which was drawn up close to the electric heater, and Myra, reflecting that it was in keeping with the rest of the fantastic, dream-like adventure that she, clad only in a nightdress and dressing-gown, should be talking to a hooded bandit in an electrically-lighted room in the heart of a mountain, seated herself.