Chapter 5 - A Ride in the
Morning
The following
morning found the storm at an end, and there was not a single cloud to mar the
perfect blue of the sky, and the sun was bright, and palm fronds glistened in
it, and the air was bracing as it blew down the valleys from the sea.
At midmorning,
Don Diego Vega came from his house in the pueblo, drawing on his sheepskin
riding-mittens, and stood for a moment before it, glancing across the plaza at
the little tavern. From the rear of the house an Indian servant led a horse.
Though Don Diego
did not go galloping across the hills and up and down El Camino Real like an
idiot, yet he owned a fairish bit of horseflesh. The animal had spirit and
speed and endurance, and many a young blood would have purchased him, except
that Don Diego had no use for more money and wanted to retain the beast.
The saddle was
heavy and showed more silver than leather on its surface. The bridle was
heavily chased with silver, too, and from its sides dangled leather globes
studded with semiprecious stones that now glittered in the bright sunshine as
if to advertise Don Diego's wealth and prestige to all the world.
Don Diego
mounted, while half a score of men loitering around the plaza watched and made
efforts to hide their grins. It was quite the thing in those days for a
youngster to spring from the ground into his saddle, gather up the reins, rake
the beast's flanks with his great spurs, and disappear in a cloud of dust all
in one motion.
But Don Diego
mounted a horse as he did everything else—without haste or spirit. The native
held a stirrup, and Don Diego inserted the toe of his boot. Then he gathered
the reins in one hand, and pulled himself into the saddle as if it had been
quite a task.
Having done that
much, the native held the other stirrup and guided Don Diego's other boot into
it, and then he backed away, and Don Diego clucked to the magnificent beast and
started it, at a walk, along the edge of the plaza toward the trail that ran to
the north.
Having reached
the trail, Don Diego allowed the animal to trot, and after having covered a mile
in this fashion, he urged the beast into a slow gallop, and so rode along the
highway.
Men were busy in
the fields and orchards, and natives were tending the herds. Now and then Don
Diego passed a lumbering carreta, and saluted whoever happened to be in it.
Once a young man he knew passed him at a gallop, going toward the pueblo, and
Don Diego stopped his own horse to brush the dust from his garments after the
man had gone his way.
Those same
garments were more gorgeous than usual this bright morning. A glance at them
was enough to establish the wealth and position of the wearer. Don Diego had
dressed with much care, admonishing his servants because his newest serape was
not pressed properly, and spending a great deal of time over the polishing of
his boots.
He traveled for a
distance of four miles and then turned from the highroad and started up a
narrow, dusty trail that led to a group of buildings against the side of a hill
in the distance. Don Diego Vega was about to pay a visit to the hacienda of Don
Carlos Pulido.
This same Don
Carlos had experienced numerous vicissitudes during the last few years. Once he
had been second to none except Don Diego's father in position, wealth, and
breeding. But he had made the mistake of getting on the wrong side of the fence
politically, and he found himself stripped of a part of his broad acres, and
tax-gatherers bothering him in the name of the governor, until there remained
but a remnant of his former fortune, but all his inherited dignity of birth.
On this morning
Don Carlos was sitting on the veranda of the hacienda meditating on the times,
which were not at all to his liking. His wife, Dona Catalina, the sweetheart of
his youth and age, was inside directing her servants. His only child, the
señorita Lolita, likewise was inside, plucking at the strings of a guitar and
dreaming as a girl of eighteen dreams. Don Carlos raised his silvered head and
peered down the long, twisting trail, and saw in the distance a small cloud of
dust. The dust cloud told him that a single horseman was approaching, and Don
Carlos feared another gatherer of taxes. He shaded his eyes with a hand and
watched the approaching horseman carefully. He noted the leisurely manner in
which he rode his mount, and suddenly hope sang in his breast, for he saw the
sun flashing from the silver on saddle and bridle, and he knew that men of the
army did not have such rich harness to use while on duty.
The rider had
made the last turning now and was in plain sight from the veranda of the house,
and Don Carlos rubbed his eyes and looked again to verify the suspicion he had.
Even at that distance the aged don could establish the identity of the
horseman.
"'Tis Don
Diego Vega," he breathed. "May the saints grant that here is a turn
in my fortunes for the better at last."
Don Diego, he
knew, might only be stopping to pay a friendly visit, and yet that would be
something, for when it was known abroad that the Vega family was on excellent
terms with the Pulido establishment, even the politicians would stop to think
twice before harassing Don Carlos further, for the Vegas were a power in the
land.
So Don Carlos
slapped his hands together, and a native hurried out from the house, and Don
Carlos bade him draw die shades so that the sun would be kept from a corner of
the veranda, and place a table and some chairs, and hurry with small cakes and
wine.
He sent word into
the house to the women, too, that Don Diego Vega was approaching. Doña Catalina
felt her heart beginning to sing, and she herself began to hum a little song,
and Señorita Lolita ran to a window to look out at the trail. When Don Diego
stopped before the steps that led to the veranda, there was a native waiting to
care for his horse, and Don Carlos himself walked halfway down the steps and
stood waiting, his hand held out in welcome.
"I am glad
to see you a visitor at my poor hacienda, Don Diego," he said, as the
young man approached, drawing off his mittens.
"It is a
long and dusty road," Don Diego said. "It wearies me, too, to ride a
horse the distance."
Don Carlos almost
forgot himself and smiled at that, for surely riding a horse a distance of four
miles was not enough to tire a young man of blood. But he remembered Don
Diego's lifelessness and did not smile, lest the smile cause anger.
He led the way to
the shady nook on the veranda, and offered Don Diego wine and cakes, and waited
for his guest to speak. As became the times, the women remained inside the
house, not ready to show themselves unless the visitor asked for them, or their
lord and master called.
"How are
things in the pueblo of Reina de Los Angeles?" Don Carlos asked. "It
has been a space of several score days since I visited there."
"Everything
is the same," said Don Diego, "except that this Señor Zorro invaded
the tavern last evening and had a duel with the big Sergeant Gonzales."
"Ha! Señor
Zorro, eh? And what was the outcome of the fighting?"
"Though the
sergeant has a crooked tongue while speaking of it," said Don Diego,
"it has come to me through a corporal who was present that this Señor
Zorro played with the sergeant and finally disarmed him and sprang through a
window to make his escape in the rain. They could not find his tracks."
"A clever
rogue," Don Carlos said. "At least, I have nothing to fear from him.
It is generally known up and down El Camino Real, I suppose, that I have been
stripped of almost everything the governor's men could carry away. I look for
them to take the hacienda next."
"Um. Such a
thing should be stopped!" Don Diego said, with more than his usual amount
of spirit.
The eyes of Don
Carlos brightened. If Don Diego Vega could be made to feel some sympathy, if
one of the illustrious Vega family would but whisper a word in the governor's
ear, the persecution would cease instantly, for the commands of a Vega were
made to be obeyed by all men of whatever rank.
Chapter 6 - Diego Seeks a Bride
Don Diego sipped
his wine slowly and looked out across the mesa, and Don Carlos looked at him in
puzzled fashion, realizing that something was coming, and scarcely knowing what
to expect.
"I did not
ride through the damnable sun and dust to talk with you concerning this Señor
Zorro, or any other bandit," Don Diego explained after a time.
"Whatever
your errand, I am glad to welcome one of your family, caballero," Don
Carlos said.
"I had a
long talk with my father yesterday morning," Don Diego went on. "He
informed me that I am approaching the age of twenty-five, and he is of a mind
that I am not accepting my duties and responsibilities in the proper
fashion."
"But surely—"
"Oh,
doubtless he knows. My father is a wise man."
"And no man
can dispute that, Don Diego."
"He urged
upon me that I awaken and do as I should. I have been dreaming, it appears. A
man of my wealth and station—you will pardon me if I speak of it—must do
certain things."
"It is the
purse of position, señor."
"When my
father dies I come into his fortune, naturally, being the only child. That part
of it is all right. But what will happen when I die? That is what my father
asks."
"I
understand."
"A young man
of my age, he told me, should have a wife, a mistress of his household, and
should—er—have offspring to inherit and preserve an illustrious name."
"Nothing
could be truer than that," said Don Carlos.
"So I have
decided to get me a wife."
"Ha! It is
something every man should do, Don Diego. Well do I remember when I courted
Doña Catalina. We were mad to get into each other's arms, but her father kept
her from me for a time. I was only seventeen, though, so perhaps he did right.
But you are nearly twenty-five. Get you a bride, by all means."
"And so I
have come to see you about it," Don Diego said.
"To see me
about it?" gasped Don Carlos, with something of fear and a great deal of
hope in his breast.
"It will be
rather a bore, I expect. Love and marriage, and all that sort of thing, is
rather a necessary nuisance in its way. The idea of a man of sense running
about a woman, playing a guitar for her, making up to her like a loon when
everyone knows his intention! And then the ceremony! Being a man of wealth and
station, I suppose the wedding must be an elaborate one, and the natives will
have to be feasted, and all that, simply because a man is taking a bride to be
mistress of his household."
"Most young
men," Don Carlos observed, "delight to win a woman and are proud if
they have a great and fashionable wedding."
"No doubt.
But it is an awful nuisance. However, I will go through with it, señor. It is
my father's wish, you see. You—if you will pardon me again—have fallen upon
evil days. That is the result of politics,-of course. But you are of excellent
blood, señor, of the best blood in the land."
"I thank you
for remembering that truth," said Don Carlos, rising long enough to put
one hand over his heart and bow.
"Everybody
knows it, señor. And a Vega, naturally, when he takes a mate, must seek out a
woman of excellent blood."
"To be
sure!" Don Carlos exclaimed.
"You have an
only daughter, the Señorita Lolita."
"Ah! Yes,
indeed, señor. Lolita is eighteen now, and a beautiful and accomplished girl,
if her father is the man to say it."
"I have
observed her at the mission and at the pueblo," Don Diego said. "She
is, indeed, beautiful, and I have heard that she is accomplished. Of her birth
and breeding there can be no doubt. I think she would be a fit woman to preside
over my household."
"Señor?"
"That is the
object of my visit today, señor."
"You—you are
asking my permission to pay addresses to my fair daughter?"
"I am,
señor."
Don Carlos's face
beamed, and again he sprang from his chair, this time to bend forward and grasp
Don Diego by the, hand.
"She is a
fair flower," the father said. "I would see her wed, and I have been
to some anxiety about it, for I did not wish her to marry into a family that
did not rank with mine. But there can be no question where a Vega is concerned.
You have my permission, señor."
Don Carlos was
delighted. An alliance between his daughter and Don Diego Vega! His fortunes
were retrieved the moment that was consummated. He would be important and
powerful again!
He called a
native and sent for his wife, and within a few minutes the Doña Catalina
appeared on the veranda to greet the visitor, her face beaming, for she had
been listening.
"Don Diego
has done us the honor to request permission to pay his respects to our
daughter," Don Carlos explained.
"You have
given consent?" Dona Catalina asked; for it would not do, of course, to
jump for the man.
"I have
given my consent," Don Carlos replied.
Doña Catalina
held out her hand, and Don Diego gave it a languid grasp and then released it.
"Such an
alliance would be a proud one," Dona Catalina said. "I hope that you
may win her heart, señor."
"As to
that," said Don Diego, "I trust there will be no undue nonsense.
Either the lady wants me and will have me, or she will not. Will I change her
mind if I play a guitar beneath her window, or hold her hand when I may, or put
my hand over, my heart and sigh? I want her for wife, else I would not have
ridden here to ask her father for her."
"I—I—of
course," said Don Carlos.
"Ah, señor,
but a maid delights to be won," said the Dona Catalina. "It is her
privilege, señor. The hours of courtship are held in memory during her
lifetime. She remembers the pretty things her lover said, and the first kiss,
when they stood beside the stream and looked into each other's eyes, and when
he showed sudden fear for her while they were riding and her horse bolted—those
things, señor.
"It is like
a little game, and it has been played since the beginning of time. Foolish,
señor? Perhaps when a person looks at it with cold reason. But delightful,
nevertheless."
"I don't
know anything about it," Don Diego protested. "I never ran around
making love to women."
"The woman
you marry will not be sorry because of that, señor."
"You think
it is necessary for me to do these things?"
"Oh,"
said Don Carlos, afraid of losing an influential son-in-law, "a little bit
would not hurt. A maid likes to be wooed, of course, even though she has made
up her mind."
"I have a
servant who is a wonder at the guitar," Don Diego said. "Tonight I
shall order him to come out and play beneath the señorita's window."
"And not
come yourself?" Dona Catalina gasped.
"Ride out
here again tonight, when the chill wind blows in from the sea?" gasped Don
Diego. "It would kill me. And the native plays the guitar better than
I."
"I never
heard of such a thing!" Doña Catalina gasped, her sense of the fitness of
things outraged.
"Let Don
Diego do as he wills," Don Carlos urged.
"I had
thought," said Don Diego, "that you would arrange everything and then
let me know. I would have my house put in order, of course, and get me more
servants. Perhaps I should purchase a coach and drive with my bride as far as
Santa Barbara and visit a friend there. Is it not possible for you to attend to
everything else? Just merely send me word when the wedding is to be."
Don Carlos Pulido
was nettled a little himself now.
"Caballero,"
he said, "when I courted Dona Catalina she kept me on needles and pins.
One day she would frown, and the next day smile. It added a spice to the
affair. I would not have had it different. You will regret it, señor, if you do
not do your own courting. Would you like to see the señorita now?"
"I suppose I
must," Don Diego said.
Dona Catalina
threw up her head and went into the house to fetch the girl; and soon she came,
a dainty little thing with black eyes that snapped, and black hair that was
wound around her head in a great coil, and dainty little feet that peeped from
beneath skirts of bright hue.
"I am happy
to see you again, Don Diego," she said. He bowed over her hand and
assisted her to one of the chairs.
"You are as
beautiful as you were when I saw you last," he said.
"Always tell
a señorita that she is more beautiful than when you saw her last," groaned
Don Carlos. "Ah, that I were young again and could make love anew!"
He excused
himself and entered the house, and Doña Catalina moved to the other end of the
veranda, so that the pair could talk without letting her hear the words, but
from where she could watch, as a good duenna always must.
"Señorita,"
Don Diego said, "I have asked your father this morning for permission to
seek you in marriage."
"Oh,
señor!" the girl gasped.
"Do you
think I would make a proper husband?"
"Why, I—that
is—"
"Just say
the word, señorita, and I shall tell my father, and your family will make
arrangements for the ceremony. They can send word in to me by some native. It
fatigues me to ride abroad when it is not at all necessary."
Now the pretty
eyes of the Señorita Lolita began flashing warning signals, but Don Diego, it
was evident, did not see them, and so he rushed forward to his destruction.
"Shall you
agree to becoming my wife, señorita?" he asked, bending slightly toward
her.
Señorita Lolita's
face burned red, and she sprang from her chair, her tiny fists clenched at her
side.
"Don Diego
Vega," she replied, "you are of a noble family and have much wealth
and will inherit more. But you are lifeless, señor! Is this your idea of
courtship and romance? Can you not take the trouble to ride four miles on a
smooth road to see the maid you would wed? What sort of blood is in your veins,
señor?"
Doña Catalina
heard that, and now she rushed across the veranda toward them, making signals
to her daughter, which Señorita Lolita refused to see.
"The man who
weds me must woo me and win my love," the girl went on. "He must
touch my heart. Think you that I am some bronze native wench to give myself to
the first man who asks? The man who becomes my husband must be a man with life
enough in him to want me. Send your servant to play a guitar beneath my window?
Oh, I heard, señor! Send him, señor, and I'll throw boiling water upon him and
bleach his red skin! Buenos dias, señor!"
She threw up her
head proudly, lifted her silken skirts aside, and so passed him to enter the
house, disregarding her mother also. Doña Catalina moaned once for her lost
hopes. Don Diego Vega looked after the disappearing señorita and scratched at
his head thoughtfully and glanced toward his horse.
"I—I believe
she is displeased with me," he said in his timid voice.
Chapter 7 - A Different Sort of
Man
Don Carlos lost
no time in hurrying out to the veranda again—since he had been listening and so
knew what had happened—and endeavoring to placate the embarrassed Don Diego
Vega. Though there was consternation in his heart, he contrived to chuckle and
make light of the occurrence.
"Women are
fitful and filled with fancies, señor," he said. "At times they will
rail at those whom they in reality adore. There is no telling the workings of a
woman's mind—she cannot explain it with satisfaction herself."
"But I—I
scarcely understand," Don Diego gasped. "I used my words with care.
Surely I said nothing to insult or anger the señorita."
"She would
be wooed, I take it, in the regular fashion. Do not despair, señor. Both her
mother and myself have agreed that you are a proper man for her husband. It is
customary that a maid fight off a man to a certain extent, and then surrender.
It appears to make surrender the sweeter. Perhaps the next time you visit us
she will be more agreeable. I feel quite sure of it."
So Don Diego
shook hands with Don Carlos Pulido and mounted his horse and rode slowly down
the trail; and Don Carlos turned about and entered his house again and faced his
wife and daughter, standing before the latter with his hands on his hips and
regarding her with something akin to sorrow.
"He is the
greatest catch in all the country!" Doña Catalina was wailing; and she
dabbed at her eyes with a delicate square of filmy lace.
"He has
wealth and position and could mend my broken fortunes if he were but my
son-in-law," Don Carlos declared, not taking his eyes from his daughter's
face.
"He has a
magnificent house and a hacienda besides, and the best horses near Reina de Los
Angeles, and he is sole heir to his wealthy father," Dona Catalina said.
"One whisper
from his lips into the ear of his excellency, the governor, and a man is
made—or unmade," added Don Carlos.
"He is
handsome—"
"I grant you
that!" exclaimed the Señorita Lolita, lifting her pretty head and glaring
at them bravely. "That is what angers me! What a lover the man could be,
if he would! Is it anything to make a girl proud to have it said that the man
she married never looked at another woman, and so did not select her after
dancing and talking and playing at love with others?"
"He
preferred you to all others, else he would not have ridden out today," Don
Carlos said..
"Certainly
it must have fatigued him!" the girl said. "Why does he let himself
be made the laughingstock of the country? He is handsome and rich and talented.
He has health, and could lead all the other young men. Yet he has scarcely
enough energy to dress himself, I doubt not."
"This is all
beyond me," the Dona Catalina wailed. "When I was a girl, there was
nothing like this. An honorable man comes seeking you as wife—"
"Were he
less honorable and more of a man, I might look at him a second time," said
the señorita.
"You must
look at him more than a second time," put in Don Carlos, with some
authority in his manner. "You cannot throw away such a fine chance. Think
on it, my daughter. Be in a more amiable mood when Don Diego calls again."
Then he hurried
to the patio on pretense that he wished to speak to a servant, but in reality
to get away from the scene. Don Carlos had proved himself to be a courageous
man in his youth, and now he was a wise man, also, and hence he knew better
than to participate in an argument between women.
Soon the siesta
hour was at hand, and the Señorita Lolita went into the patio and settled
herself on a little bench near the fountain. Her father was dozing on the
veranda, and her mother in her room, and the servants were scattered over the
place, sleeping also. But Señorita Lolita could not sleep, for her mind was
busy.
She knew her
father's circumstances, of course, for it had been some time since he could
hide them, and she wanted, naturally, to see him in excellent fortune again.
She knew, too, that did she wed with Don Diego Vega, her father was made whole.
For a Vega would not let the relatives of his wife be in any but the best of
circumstances.
She called up
before her a vision of Don Diego's handsome face, and wondered what it would be
like if lighted with love and passion. 'Twere a pity the man was so lifeless,
she told herself. But to wed a man who suggested sending a native servant to
serenade her in his own place!
The splashing of
the water in the fountain lulled her to sleep, and she curled up in one end of
the bench, her cheek pillowed on one tiny hand, her black hair cascading to the
ground.
And suddenly she
was awakened by a touch on her arm, and sat up quickly, and then would have
screamed except that a hand was crushed against her lips to prevent her.
Before her stood
a man whose body was enveloped in a long cloak, and whose face was covered with
a black mask so that she could see nothing of his features except his
glittering eyes. She had heard Señor Zorro, the highwayman, described, and she
guessed that this was he, and her heart almost ceased to beat, she was so
afraid.
"Silence,
and no harm comes to you, señorita," the man whispered hoarsely.
"You—you
are—" she questioned on her breath.
He stepped back,
removed his sombrero, and bowed low before her.
"You have
guessed it, my charming señorita," he said. "I am known as Señor
Zorro, the Curse of Capistrano."
"And—you are
here—"
"I mean you
no harm, no harm to any of this hacienda, señorita. I punish those who are
unjust, and your father is not that. I admire him greatly. Rather would I punish
those who do him evil than to touch him."
"I—I thank
you, señor."
"I am weary,
and the hacienda is an excellent place to rest," he said. "I knew it
to be the siesta hour, also, and thought everyone would be asleep. It were a
shame to awaken you, señorita, but I felt that I must speak. Your beauty would
hinge a man's tongue in its middle so that both ends might be free to sing your
praises."
Señorita Lolita
had the grace to blush.
"I would
that my beauty affected other men so," she said.
"And does it
not? Is it that the Señorita Lolita lacks suitors? But that cannot be
possible!"
"It is,
nevertheless, señor. There are few bold enough to seek to ally themselves with
the family of Pulido, since it is out of favor with the powers. There is
one—suitor," she went on. "But he does not seem to put much life into
his wooing."
"Ha! A
laggard at love—-and in your presence? What ails the man? Is he ill?"
"He is so
wealthy that I suppose he thinks he has but to request it and a maiden will
agree to wed him."
"What an
imbecile! 'Tis the wooing gives the spice to romance."
"But you,
señor! Somebody may come and see you here! You may be captured!"
"And do you
not wish to see a highwayman captured? Perhaps it would mend your father's
fortune were he to capture me. The governor is much vexed, I understand,
concerning my operations."
"You—you had
best go," she said.
"There
speaks mercy in your heart. You know that capture would mean my death. Yet must
I risk it, and tarry a while."
He seated himself
upon the bench, and Señorita Lolita moved away as far as she could, and then
started to rise.
But Señor Zorro
had been anticipating that. He grasped one of her hands and, before she guessed
his intention, had bent forward, raised the bottom of his mask, and pressed his
lips to its pink, moist palm.
"Señor!"
she cried, and jerked her hand away.
"It were
bold, yet a man must express his feelings," he said. "I have not
offended beyond forgiveness, I hope."
"Go, señor,
else I make an outcry!"
"And get me
executed?"
"You are but
a thief of the highroad!"
"Yet I love
life as any other man."
"I shall
call out, señor! There is a reward offered for your capture."
"Such pretty
hands would not handle blood money."
"Go!"
"Ah,
señorita, you are cruel. A sight of you sends the blood pounding through a
man's veins. A man would fight a horde at the bidding of your sweet lips."
"Señor!"
"A man would
die in your defense, señorita. Such grace, such fresh beauty."
"For the
last time, señor! I shall make an outcry—and your fate be on your own
head!"
"Your hand
again—and I go."
"It may not
be!"
"Then here I
sit until they come and take me. No doubt I shall not have to wait long. That
big Sergeant Gonzales is on the trail, I understand, and may have discovered
track of me. He will have soldiers with him—"
"Señor, for
the love of the saints—"
"Your
hand."
She turned her
back and gave it, and once more he pressed his lips to the palm. And then she
felt herself being turned slowly, and her eyes looked deep into his. A thrill seemed
to run through her. She realized that he retained her hand, and she pulled it
away. And then she turned and ran quickly across the patio and into the house.
With her heart
pounding at her ribs, she stood behind the curtains at a window and watched. Señor
Zorro walked slowly to the fountain and stooped to drink. Then he put his
sombrero on, looked once at the house, and stalked away. She heard the
galloping hoofs of a horse die in the distance.
"A thief—yet
a man!" she breathed. "If Don Diego had only half as much dash and
courage!"
Chapter 8 - Don Carlos Plays a
Game
She turned away
from the window, thankful that none of the household had seen Señor Zorro or
knew of his visit. The remainder of the day she spent on the veranda, half the
time working on some lace she was making, and the other half gazing down the
dusty trail that ran toward the highway.
And then came
evening, and down by the natives' adobe huts big fires were lighted, and the
natives gathered around them to cook and eat and speak of the events of the
day. Inside the house the evening meal had been prepared, and the family was
about to sit at table when someone knocked upon the door.
An Indian ran to
open it, and Señor Zorro strode into the room. His sombrero came off, he bowed,
and then he raised his head and looked at the speechless Doña Catalina and the
half-terrified Don Carlos.
"I trust you
will pardon this intrusion," he said. "I am the man known as Señor
Zorro. But do not be frightened, for I have not come to rob."
Don Carlos got
slowly upon his feet, while Señorita Lolita gasped at this display of the man's
courage, and feared he would mention the visit of the afternoon, of which she
had refrained from telling her mother.
"Scoundrel!"
Don Carlos roared. "You dare to enter an honest house?"
"I am no
enemy of yours, Don Carlos," Señor Zorro replied. "In fact, I have
done some things that should appeal to a man who has been persecuted."
That was true,
Don Carlos knew, but he was too wise to admit it and so speak treason. Heaven
knew he was enough in the bad graces of the governor now without offending him
more by treating with courtesy this man for whose carcass the governor had
offered a reward.
"What do you
wish here?" he asked.
"I crave
your hospitality, señor. In other words, I would eat and drink. I am a
caballero, hence make my claim in justice."
"Whatever
good blood once flowed in your veins has been fouled by your actions," Don
Carlos said. "A thief and highwayman has no claim upon the hospitality of
this hacienda."
"I take it
that you fear to feed me, since the governor may hear of it," Señor Zorro
answered. "You may say that you were forced to do it. And that will be the
truth."
Now one hand came
from beneath the cloak, and it held a pistol. Doña Catalina shrieked and
fainted, and Señorita Lolita cowered in her chair.
"Doubly a
scoundrel, since you frighten women!" Don Carlos exclaimed angrily.
"Since it is death to refuse, you may have meat and drink. But I ask you
to be caballero enough to allow me to remove my wife to another room and call a
native woman to care for her."
"By all
means," señor Zorro said. "But the señorita remains here as hostage
for your good conduct and return."'
Don Carlos
glanced at the man, and then at the girl, and saw that the latter was not
afraid. He. picked his wife up in his arms and bore her through the doorway,
roaring for servants to come.
Señor Zorro
walked around the end of the table, bowed to Lolita again, and sat down in a
chair beside her.
"This is
foolhardiness, no doubt, but I had to see your beaming face again," he
said.
"Señor!"
"The sight
of you this afternoon started a conflagration in my heart, señorita. The touch
of your hand was new life to me."
Lolita turned
away, her face flaming, and Señor Zorro moved his chair nearer and reached for
her hand, but she eluded him.
"The longing
to hear the music of your voice, señorita, may lure me here often," he
said.
"Señor! You
must never come again! I was lenient with you this afternoon, but I can not be
again. The next time I shall shriek, and you will be taken."
"You could
not be so cruel," he said.
"Your fate
would be upon your own head, señor."
Then Don Carlos
came back into the room, and Señor Zorro arose and bowed once more.
"I trust
your wife has recovered from her swoon," he said. "I regret that the
sight of my poor pistol frightened her."
"She has
recovered," Don Carlos said. "I believe you said that you wished meat
and drink. Now that I come to think of it, señor, you have indeed done some
things that I have admired, and I am happy to grant you hospitality for a time.
A servant shall furnish you food immediately."
Don Carlos walked
to the door, called a native, and gave his orders. Don Carlos was well pleased
with himself. Carrying his wife into the next room had given him his chance.
Four servants had answered his call, and among them had been one he trusted.
And he had ordered the man to take the swiftest horse and ride like the wind
the four miles to the pueblo, and there to spread the alarm that Señor Zorro
was at the Pulido hacienda.
His object now
was to delay this Señor Zorro as much as possible. For he knew the soldiers
would come and the highwayman be killed or captured, and surely the governor
would admit that Don Carlos was entitled to some consideration for what he had
done.
"You must
have had some stirring adventures, señor," Don Carlos said as he returned
to the table.
"A
few," the highwayman admitted.
"There was
that affair at Santa Barbara, for instance. I never did hear the straight of
that."
"I dislike
to speak of my own work, señor."
"Please,"
the Señorita Lolita begged; and so Señor Zorro overcame his scruples for the
time being.
"It really
was nothing," he said. "I arrived in the vicinity of Santa Barbara at
sunset. There is a fellow there who runs a store, and he had been beating
natives and stealing from the frailes. He would demand that the frailes sell
him goods from the mission, and then complain that the weight was short, and
the governor's men would make the frailes deliver more. So I resolved to punish
the man."
"Pray
continue, señor," said Don Carlos, bending forward as if deeply
interested.
"I
dismounted at the door of his building and walked inside. He had candles
burning, and there were half a dozen fellows trading with him. I covered them
with my pistol and drove them into a corner and ordered this storekeeper before
me. I frightened him thoroughly, and forced him to disgorge the money he had in
a secret hiding-place. And then I lashed him with a whip taken from his own wall,
and told him why I had done it."
"Excellent!"
Don Carlos cried.
"Then I
sprang on my horse and dashed away. At a native's hut I made a placard, saying
that I was a friend of the oppressed. Feeling particularly bold that evening, I
galloped up to the door of the presidio, brushed aside the sentry—who took me
for a courier—and pinned the placard to the door of the presidio with my knife.
Just then the soldiers came rushing out. I fired over their heads, and while
they were bewildered I rode away toward the hills."
"And
escaped!" Don Carlos exclaimed.
"I am
here!—that is your answer."
"And why is
the governor so particularly bitter against you, señor?" Don Carlos asked.
"There are other highwaymen to whom he gives not a thought."
"Ha! I had a
personal clash with his excellency. He was driving from San Francisco de Asis
to Santa Barbara on official business, with an escort of soldiers about him.
They stopped at a brook to refresh themselves, and the soldiers scattered while
the governor spoke with his friends. I was hiding in the forest and suddenly
dashed out and at them.
"Instantly I
was at the open door of the coach. I presented my pistol at his head and
ordered him to hand over his fat purse—which he did. Then I spurred through his
soldiers, upsetting several as I did so—"
"And
escaped!" Don Carlos cried.
"I am
here," assented Señor Zorro.
The servant
brought a tray of food and placed it before the highwayman, retreating as soon
as possible, his eyes big with fear and his hands trembling, for many weird
tales had been told of this same señor Zorro and his brutality, none of which
was true.
"I am sure that you will pardon me,"
Señor Zorro said, "when I ask you to sit at the far end of the room. As I
take each bite, I must raise the bottom of my mask, for I have no wish to
become known. I put the pistol before me on the table, so, to discourage
treachery. And now, Don Carlos Pulido, I shall do justice to the meal you have
so kindly furnished."
Don Carlos and
his daughter sat where they had been directed, and the bandit ate with evident
relish. Now and then he stopped to talk to them, and once he had Don Carlos
send out for more wine, declaring it to be the best he had tasted for a year.
Don Carlos was
only too glad to oblige him. He was playing to gain time. He knew the horse the
native rode, and judged that he had reached the presidio at Reina de Los
Angeles before this, and that the soldiers were on their way. If he could hold
this Señor Zorro until they arrived!
"I am having
some food prepared for you to carry with you, señor," he said. "You
will pardon me while I get it? My daughter will entertain you."
Señor Zorro
bowed, and Don Carlos hurried from the room. But Don Carlos had made a mistake
in his eagerness. It was an unusual thing for a girl to be left alone in the
company of a man in such fashion, especially with a man known to be an outlaw.
Señor Zorro guessed at once that he was being delayed purposely. For, again, it
was an unusual thing for a man like Don Carlos to go for the package of food
himself when there were servants that could be called by a mere clapping of the
hands. Don Carlos, in fact, had gone into the other room to listen at a window
for sounds of galloping horses.
"Señor!"
Lolita whispered across the room.
"What is it,
señorita?"
"You must
go—at once. I am afraid that my father has sent for the soldiers."
"And you are
kind enough to warn me?"
"Do I wish
to see you taken here? Do I wish to see fighting and bloodshed?" she
asked.
"That is the
only reason, señorita?"
"Will you
not go, señor?"
"I am loath
to rush away from such a charming presence, señorita. May I come again at the
next siesta hour?"
"By the
saints—no! This must end, Señor Zorro. Go your way—and take care. You have done
some things that I admire, hence I would not see you captured. Go north as far
as San Francisco de Asis and turn honest, señor. It is the better way."
"Little
priest," he said.
"Shall you
go, señor?'
"But your
father has gone to fetch food for me. And could I depart without thanking him
for this meal?"
Don Carlos came
back into the room then, and Señor Zorro knew by the expression on his face
that the soldiers were coming up the trail. The don put a package on the table.
"Some food
to carry with you, señor," he said. "And we would relish more of your
reminiscences before you start on your perilous journey."
"I have
spoken too much of myself already, señor, and it ill becomes a caballero to do
that. It were better that I thank you and leave you now."
"At least,
señor, drink another mug of wine."
"I
fear," said Señor Zorro, "that the soldiers are much too close, Don
Carlos."
The face of the
don went white at that, for the highwayman was picking up his pistol, and Don
Carlos feared he was about to pay the price for his treacherous hospitality.
But Señor Zorro made no move to fire.
"I forgive
you this breach of hospitality, Don Carlos, because I am an outlaw and there
has been a price put upon my head," he said. "And, also, I hold you
no ill will because of it. Buenos noches, señorita! Señor, adios!"
Then a terrified
servant who knew little concerning the events of the evening rushed in at the
door.
"Master! The
soldiers are here!" he cried. "They are surrounding the house!"
