“I have nowhere to go,” said Rodriguez.  His head was downcast as he sat by the fire:  Morano stood and looked at him unhappily, full of a sympathy that he found no words to express.  A light wind slipped through the branches and everything else was still.  It was some while before he lifted his head; and then he saw before him on the other side of the fire, standing with folded arms, the man in the brown leather jacket.

“Nowhere to go!” said he.  “Who needs go anywhere from Shadow Valley?”

Rodriguez stared at him.  “But I can’t stay here!” he said.

“There is no fairer forest known to man,” said the other.  “I know many songs that prove it.”

Rodriguez made no answer but dropped his eyes, gazing with listless glance once more at the ground.  “Come, senor,” said the man in the leather jacket.  “None are unhappy in Shadow Valley.”

“Who are you?” said Rodriguez.  Both he and Morano were gazing curiously at the man whom they had saved three weeks ago from the noose.

“Your friend,” answered the stranger.

“No friend can help me,” said Rodriguez.

“Senor,” said the stranger across the fire, still standing with folded arms, “I remain under an obligation to no man.  If you have an enemy or love a lady, and if they dwell within a hundred miles, either shall be before you within a week.”

Rodriguez shook his head, and silence fell by the camp-fire.  And after awhile Rodriguez, who was accustomed to dismiss a subject when it was ended, saw the stranger’s eyes on him yet, still waiting for him to say more.  And those clear blue eyes seemed to do more than wait, seemed almost to command, till they overcame Rodriguez’ will and he obeyed and said, although he could feel each word struggling to stay unuttered, “Senor, I went to the wars to win a castle and a piece of land thereby; and might perchance have wed and ended my wanderings, with those of my servant here; but the wars are over and no castle is won.”

And the stranger saw by his face in the firelight, and knew from the tones of his voice in the still night, the trouble that his words had not expressed.

“I remain under an obligation to no man,” said the stranger.  “Be at this place in four weeks’ time, and you shall have a castle as large as any that men win by war, and a goodly park thereby.”

“Your castle, master!” said Morano delighted, whose only thought up to then was as to who had got his horses.  But Rodriguez only stared:  and the stranger said no more but turned on his heel.  And then Rodriguez awoke out of his silence and wonder.  “But where?” he said.  “What castle?”

“That you will see,” said the stranger.

“But, but how ...” said Rodriguez.  What he meant was, “How can I believe you?” but he did not put it in words.

“My word was never broken,” said the other.  And that is a good boast to make, for those of us who can make it; if we need boast at all.