The caballero rolled over slowly and sat up, yawning behind his hand, like a man displeased at an interruption. Though every sense was alert, there was nothing in his manner to indicate to a watcher that he had been startled or that the unknown voice out of the night had carried fright to him. He looked across the bed of coals, and saw nothing. He glanced at either side, but no leering face came from the blackness, no dark form slipped toward him, knife in hand to attack, or finger on lips to caution silence. The horse snorted again. “_Señor!_” Once more the hiss, and it seemed nearer. “Well?” the caballero demanded, half angrily and in a questioning tone. “It is a friend who would aid you.” A handful of dry grass and leaves remained near the fire; now the caballero arose slowly, picked up the fuel and took a quick step toward the glowing coals. “Not that, _señor_!” came the sudden warning. “Guards about the mission will see!” The caballero hesitated, not knowing whether to treat the man in the darkness as friend or foe. Then he laughed lightly and dropped the grass and leaves. “Approach, then, so I may see you!” he commanded. He heard someone slipping through the mud. Gazing across the bed of coals he saw an Indian face come from the darkness, just the bare outline of a face half seen in the night--thick black hair bound back from the forehead, two piercing eyes, an aggressive chin. The Indian stooped so that the reflection from the dying fire illuminated his features for an instant. At the point of speaking, the caballero felt his tongue seem to grow paralyzed. Beside the face of the Indian another had appeared--and another--another, until six faces peered at him from the darkness and six Indians squatted in the mud on the other side of the bed of coals. “We have come, _señor_,” the spokesman said. “That is plainly to be seen.” “At first we were not sure, and then word came to-day by a runner from an old man at San Luis Rey de Francia, who said he had given you lodging for a night, and, also, we saw how you were treated by the people of the mission and the presidio. So we came.” “And now--?” the caballero asked. “What is your wish, _señor_? In a cañon five miles away there is a comfortable camp, and if you desire we’ll guide you to it.” “I am of the opinion I’d much rather remain where am.” “We do not understand your ways, _señor_, yet we trust you. If it is your desire to remain here beneath the mission walls, undoubtedly you have some good reason. But you must have a camp, _señor_--shelter and food and drink--and those of the mission will give you none.” “You speak truth there,” the caballero admitted.