Soon after he came to a point where the path, forsaking the cliff, turned to the left, down the slope of the mountain. He knew that would take him into the Pedregal, where he did not desire to go. Besides his doubts of being able to find the way through the lava field, there was no particular need for his attempting so difficult a track. All he wanted was to get back to the city by the most direct route, and as soon as possible into the presence of a man of whom during late days he had been thinking much. For from this man he expected much, in return for a tale he could tell him. It must be told direct, and for this reason all caution was required. He might fall into hands that would not only hinder him from relating it in the right quarter, but prevent his telling it at all. Just where the path diverged to the left, going down to the Pedregal, a mass of rocks rose bare above the tops of the trees. Clambering to its summit he obtained a view of what lay below; the whole valley bathed in bright moonlight, green meadows, fields of maize, and maguey, great sheets of water with haze hanging over them, white and gauzy as a bridal veil. The city itself was distinguishable at a long distance, and in places nearer specklings of white telling of some _pueblita_, or single spots where stood a _rancho_ or _hacienda_. Closer still, almost under his feet, a clump of those mottlings was more conspicuous; which he recognised as the _pueblo_ of San Augustin. A narrow ribbon-like strip of greyish white passing through it, and on to the city, he knew to be the Great Southern or Acapulco Road, which enters the capital by the _garita_ of San Antonio de Abad. This route he decided on taking. Having made note of the necessary bearings, he slipped back down the side of the rock, and looked about for a path leading to the right. Not long till he discovered one, a mere trace made by wild animals through the underwood--sufficiently practicable for him, as he could work his way through any tangle of thicket. Sprawling along it, and rapidly, despite all obstructions, he at length came out on the Acapulco Road, a wide causeway, with the moon full upon it. The track was easy and clear even now, too clear to satisfy him. He would have preferred a darker night San Augustin had to be passed through, and he knew that in it were both _serenos_ and _alguazils_. Besides, he had heard the _moxos_ at the monastery speak of troops stationed there, and patrols at all hours along the roads around. If taken up by these he might still hope to reach his intended destination; but neither in the time he desired, nor the way he wished. He must approach the man with whom he meant seeking an interview, not as a prisoner but voluntarily. And he must see this man soon, to make things effectual, as the reward he was dreaming of sure.