But the crisis in John Bedford’s life was so great that he advanced straight toward the ominous presence in his path. The man said nothing, but John felt as he approached that the stranger was regarding him steadily. Moreover, he made no motion to draw a weapon. John saw now that one of his hands rested on the post at the stairhead, and the other hung straight down by his side. Surely this was not the attitude of a foe! Perhaps here was merely another in the chain of miracles that had begun to work in his behalf. He advanced a step or two nearer, and the stranger was yet motionless. Another step, and the man spoke in a sharp whisper: "You are John Bedford?" "I am," replied John. "I’ve been waiting for you. Come. But first take this." He drew a double-barreled pistol from his pocket and handed it to John, who did as he was told. The stranger then produced from under his capacious serape another serape and a Mexican hat, which John, acting under his instructions, also put on. "Now," said the man, "follow me, and do what I do or what I tell you. "It is the midnight hour, They wait us at the gate. May Heaven its favors pour, Then easy is our fate. You seem to be a brave fellow like your brother; then now is the time to show your courage, and remember, also, that I can do all the talking for both of us. Talking is my great specialty." It seemed to John that the stranger spoke in an odd manner, but he liked the sound of his voice, which was at once strong and kind. Why should he not like a man who had come through every imaginable danger to save him from a living death! "My brother?" whispered John in his eagerness. "Is he still near?" "I told you I was to do all the talking," replied the man. "You just follow and step as lightly as you can." John obeyed, and, after a descent of a few steps, they came to one of the heavy wooden doors, twelve feet high, but the stranger unlocked it with a key taken from the folds of that invaluable Mexican garment, the serape. "You didn’t think I’d come on such a trip as this without making full preparations?" said the man with a slight humorous inflection. Then he added: "You’re just a plain, common Mexican, some servant or other, employed about the castle, and you continue to slouch along behind me, who may be an officer for all one knows in this darkness. But first push with me on this door. Push hard and push slowly." The heavy door moved back a foot or two, but that was all the stranger wanted. He slipped through the opening, and John came after him. Then the man closed and locked the door again. "A wise burglar leaves no trail behind him," he said, "and, although it is too dark for me to see you very well, I want to tell you, Sir John of the Cell, that your figure and walk remind me a great deal of your brother, Sir Philip of the Mountain, the River, and the Plain, as gallant a lad as one may meet in many a long day."