Monday's Illustrated Word: Untitled Story by Unknown Writer (in English)

art by Reed Crandall - Feature Comics #51 - Quality Comics, December 1941.

Good Readings: Letter of Charles L. Dogson to Isabel Seymour (in English)

The Chestnuts,
Guildford
May 15, 1869

My dear Isabel,

      Words cannot tell how horrified, terrified, petrified (everything ending with "fied," including all my sisters here saying "fie!" when they heard of it) I was when I found that I had carried off your ticket to Guildford. I enquired directly I got there whether ­anything could be done, but found you must have arrived in London some time before I got here. So there was nothing to be done but tear my hair (there is almost none left now), weep, and surrender myself to the police.
      I do hope you didn’t suffer any inconvenience on account of my forgetfulness, but you see you would talk so all the way (though I begged you not) that you drove everything out of my head, including the very small portion of brain that is usually to be found there.
      Miss Lloyd will never forgive me for it—of that I feel certain. But I have some hope that after many years, when you see me, an aged man on crutches, hobbling to your door, the sternness of your features may relax for a moment, and, holding out the forefinger of your left hand, you may bring yourself to say, "All is forgotten and forgiven."
      I hardly dare ask what really happened at Paddington, whether the gentleman and lady, who were in the carriage, helped you out of the difficulty, or whether your maid had money enough, or whether you had to go to prison. If so, never mind: I’ll do my best to get you out, and at any rate you shant be executed.
      Seriously, I am so sorry for it, and with all sorts of apologies, I am sincerely yours,

                                                                                                                       C. L. Dodgson

Friday's Sung Word: "Marcha do 'Scratch' Brasileiro" by Lamartine Babo (in Portuguese)

Eu sou brasileiro,
Tu és brasileiro,
Muita gente boa
Brasileira é!

Vamos torcer com fé,
No nosso coração!
Vamos torcer para o
Brasil ser campeão!

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6,
7, 8, 9, para 12 faltam tres!


Salve, salve o nosso estádio municipal
No campeonato mundial!
Salve a nossa bandeira
Verde, ouro e anil,
Brasil, Brasil, Brasil!

You can hear "Marcha do 'Scratch Brasileiro" sung by Jorge Goulart with Francisco Sergi and his Orchestra here.

Thursday's Serial: "The Curse of Capistrano" by Johnston McCulley (in English) - the end

Chapter 36 - All Against Them

And he rushed into danger.

                The dawn had come; the first pink streaks had appeared in the eastern sky, and then the sun had risen quickly above the heights to the east, and now the plaza was bathed in brilliance. There was no mist, no high fog even, and objects on the hillsides far away stood out in relief. It was no morning in which to ride for life and freedom.

                Señor Zorro had delayed too long with the governor and comandante, else had misjudged the hour. He swung into his saddle and urged his beast out of the patio—and then a full realization of his imminent peril came to him.

                Down the trail from San Gabriel came Sergeant Pedro Conzales and his troopers. Down the Pala road came another detachment of soldiers that had been trailing the caballeros and Don Carlos and had given up in disgust. Over the hill toward the presidio came the third body of men, who had been in chase of those who had rescued the Dona Catalina. Señor Zorro found himself hemmed in by his foes.

                The Curse of Capistrano deliberately stopped his horse and for a moment contemplated the outlook. He glanced at the three bodies of troopers, estimated the distance. And in that instant one with Sergeant Gonzales's detachment saw him and raised the alarm.

                They knew that magnificent horse, that long purple cloak, that black mask and wide sombrero. They saw before them the man they had been pursuing throughout the night, the man who had made fools of them and played with them, about the hills and valleys. They feared the rage of his excellency and their superior officers, and in their hearts and minds was determination to capture or slay this Curse of Capistrano now as this last chance was offered them.

                Señor Zorro put spurs to his horse and dashed across the plaza, in full view of some score of citizens. Just as he did that, the governor and his host rushed from the house, shrieking that Señor Zorro was a murderer and should be taken. Natives scurried like so many rats for shelter; men of rank stood still and gaped in astonishment.

                Señor Zorro, having crossed the plaza, drove his horse at highest speed straight toward the highway. Sergeant Gonzales and his troopers rushed to cut him off and turn him back, shrieking at one another, pistols in their hands, blades loosened in their scabbards. Reward and promotion and satisfaction were to be their lot if they made an end of the highwayman here and now.

                Señor Zorro was forced to swerve from his first course, for he saw that he could not win through. He had not taken his pistol from his belt, but he had drawn his blade, and it dangled from his right wrist in such fashion that he could grip the hilt of it instantly and put it into play.

                He cut across the plaza again, almost running down several men of rank who were in the way. He passed within a few paces of the infuriated governor and his host, darted between two houses, and rushed toward the hills in that direction.

                It appeared that he had some small chance of escaping the cordon of his foes now. He scorned paths and trails, and cut across the open ground. From both sides the troopers galloped to meet him, flying toward the angle of the wedge, hoping to reach it in time and turn him back once more.

                Gonzales was shouting orders in his great voice, and he was sending a part of his men down into the pueblo, so they would be in proper position in case the highwayman turned back again, and could keep him from escaping to the west.

                He reached the highway and started down it toward the south. It was not the direction he would have preferred, but he had no choice now. He dashed around a curve in the road, where some natives' huts cut off the view—and suddenly he pulled up his horse, almost unseating himself.

                For here a new menace presented itself. Straight at him along the highway flew a horse and rider, and close behind came half a dozen troopers in pursuit.

                Señor Zorro whirled his horse. He could not turn to the right because of a stone fence. His horse could have jumped it, but on the other side was soft plowed ground, and he knew he could make no progress across it, and that the troopers might cut him down with a pistol bullet.

                Nor could he turn to the left, for there was a sheer precipice down which he could not hope to ride with safety. He had to turn back toward Sergeant Gonzales and the men who rode with him, hoping to get a distance of a couple of hundred yards, where he could make a descent, before Gonzales and his men arrived at the spot

                He gripped his sword now, and was prepared for fight, for he knew it was going to be close work. He glanced back over his shoulder—and gasped his surprise.

                For it was Señorita Lolita Pulido who rode that horse and was pursued by the half-dozen troopers, and he had thought her safe at the hacienda of Fray Felipe. Her long black hair was down and streaming out behind her. Her tiny heels were glued to the horse's flanks. She bent forward as she rode, holding the reins low down, and Señor Zorro, even in that instant, marveled at her skill with a mount.

                "Señor!" he heard her shout.

                And then she had reached his side, and they rode together, dashing down upon Gonzales and his troopers.

                "They have been chasing me—for hours!" she gasped. "I escaped them—at Fray Felipe's!"

                "Ride close! Do not waste breath!" he screeched.

                "My horse—is almost done—señor!"

                Señor Zorro glanced aside at the beast, and saw that he was suffering from fatigue. But there was scant time to consider that now. The soldiers behind had gained some; those in front presented a menace that required consideration.

                Down the trail they flew, side by side, straight at Gonzales and his men. Señor Zorro could see that pistols were out, and he doubted not that the governor had given orders to get him dead or alive, but to see that he did not escape again.

                Now he spurred a few paces in advance of the señorita, and called upon her to ride his horse's tracks. He dropped the reins on his mount's neck, and held his blade ready. He had two weapons—his blade and his horse.

                Then came the crash. Señor Zorro swerved his horse at the proper instant, and the señorita followed him. He cut at the trooper on his left, swung over and cut at the one on his right. His horse crashed into that of a third trooper, and hurled it against the animal the sergeant rode.

                He heard shrill cries about him. He knew that the men who had been pursuing Señorita Lolita had run into the others, and that there was a certain amount of confusion, that they could not use blades for fear of cutting down one another.

                And then he was through them, with the señorita riding at his side again. Once more he was at the edge of the plaza. His horse was showing signs of weariness, and he had gained nothing.

                For the way to San Gabriel was not open, the way to Pala was closed, he could not hope to escape by cutting across soft ground, and on the opposite side of the plaza were more troopers, in saddle and waiting to cut him off, no matter in which direction he started.

                "We are caught!" he shouted. "But we are not done, señorita!"

                "My horse is stumbling!" she cried.

                Señor Zorro saw that it was so. He knew that the beast could not make another hundred yards.

                "To the tavern!" he cried.

                They galloped straight across the plaza. At the door of the tavern the señorita's horse staggered and fell. Señor Zorro caught the girl in his arms in time to save her from a hard fall and, still carrying her, darted through the tavern door.

                "Out!" he cried to the landlord and the native servant. "Out!" he shrieked to half a dozen loiterers, exhibiting his pistol. They rushed through the door and into the plaza.

                The highwayman threw the door shut and bolted it. He saw that every window was closed except the one that fronted on the plaza, and that the board and skin coverings were in place. He stepped to the table and then whirled to face the señorita.

                "It may be the end," he said.

                "Señor! Surely the saints will be kind to us."

                "We are beset by foes, señorita. I care not, so that I die fighting as a caballero should. But you, señorita—"

                "They shall never put me in the foul cárcel again, señor! I swear it! Rather would I die with you."

                She took the sheep skinner's knife from her bosom, and he caught a glance of it.

                "Not that, señorita!" he cried.

                "I have given you my heart, señor. Either we live together or we die together."

Chapter 37 - The Fox at Bay

                He darted to the window and glanced out. The troopers were surrounding the building. He could see the governor stalking across the plaza, crying his orders. Down the San Gabriel trail came the proud Don Alejandro Vega, to pay his visit to the governor, and he stopped at the plaza's edge and began questioning men regarding the cause for the tumult.

                "All are in at the death," Señor Zorro said, laughing. "I wonder where my brave caballeros are, those who rode with me?"

                "You expect their aid?" she asked.

                "Not so, señorita. They would have to stand together and face the governor, tell him their intentions. It was a lark with them, and I doubt whether they take it seriously enough to stand by me now. It is not to be expected. I fight it out alone."

                "Not alone, señor, when I am by your side."

                He clasped her in his arms, pressed her to him.

                "I would we might have our chance," he said. "But it would be folly for you to let my disaster influence your life. You never have seen my face even, señorita. You could forget me. You could walk from this place and surrender, send word to Don Diego Vega that you will become his bride, and the governor then would be forced to release you and clear your parents of all blame."

                "Ah, señor—"

                "Think, señorita. Think what it would mean. His excellency would not dare stand an instant against a Vega. Your parents would have their lands restored. You would be the bride of the richest young man in the country. You would have everything to make you happy—"

                "Everything Except love, señor, and without, love the rest is as nought."

                "Think, señorita, and decide for once and all. You have but a moment now!"

                "I made my decision long ago, señor. A Pulido loves but once, and does not wed where she cannot love."

                "Cara!" he cried, and pressed her close again.

                Now there came a battering at the door.

                "Señor Zorro!" Sergeant Conzales cried.

                "Well, señor?" Zorro asked.

                "I have an offer for you from his excellency the governor."

                "I am listening, loud one."

                "His excellency has no wish to cause your death or injury to the señorita you have inside with you. He asks that you open the door and come out with the lady."

                "To what end?" Señor Zorro asked.

                "You shall be given a fair trial, and the señorita also. Thus you may escape death and receive imprisonment instead."

                "Ha! I have seen samples of his excellency's fair trials," Señor Zorro responded. "Think you I am an imbecile?"

                "His excellency bids me say that this is the last chance, that the offer will not be renewed."

                "His excellency is wise not to waste breath renewing it. He grows fat, and his breath is short"

                "What can you expect to gain by resistance, save death?" Gonzales asked. "How can you hope to offstand a score and a half of us?"

                "It has been done before, loud one."

                "We can batter in the door and take you."

                "After a few of you have been stretched lifeless on the floor," señor Zorro observed. "Who will be the first through the door, my sergeant?"

                "For the last time—"

                "Come in and drink a mug of wine with me," said the highwayman, laughing.

                "Meal mush and goat's milk!" swore Sergeant Gonzales. There was quiet then for a time, and Señor Zorro, glancing through the window cautiously, so as not to attract a pistol shot, observed that the governor was in consultation with the sergeant and certain of the troopers.

                The consultation ended, and Señor Zorro darted back from the window. Almost immediately, the attack upon the door began. They were pounding at it with heavy timbers, trying to smash it down. Señor Zorro, standing in the middle of the room, pointed his pistol at the door and fired, and as the ball tore through the wood and somebody outside gave a shriek of pain, he darted to the table and started loading the pistol again.

                Then he hurried across to the door, and observed the hole where the bullet had gone through. The plank had been split, and there was quite a crack in it. Señor Zorro put the point of his blade at this crack, and waited.

                Again the heavy timber crashed against the door, and some trooper threw his weight against it, also. Señor Zorro's blade darted through the crack like a streak of lightning, and came back red, and again there was a shriek outside. And now a volley of pistol balls came through the door, but Señor Zorro, laughing, had sprung back out of harm's way.

                "Well done, señor!" Señorita Lolita cried.

                "We shall stamp our mark on several of these hounds before we are done," he replied.

                "I would that I could aid you, señor."

                "You are doing it, señorita. It is your love that gives me my strength."

                "If I could use a blade—"

                "Ah, señorita, that is for a man to do. Do you pray that all may be well."

                "And at the last, señor, if it is seen that there is no hope —may I then see your dear face?"

                "I swear it, señorita, and feel my arms about you, and my lips on yours. Death will not be so bitter then."

                The attack on the door was renewed. Now pistol shots were coming through it regularly, and through the one open window also, and there was nothing for Señor Zorro to do except stand in the middle of the room and wait, his blade held ready. There would be a lively few minutes, he promised, when the door was down and they rushed in at him.

                It seemed to be giving way now. The señorita crept close to him, tears streaming down her cheeks, and grasped him by the arm.

                "You will not forget?" she asked.

                "I'll not forget, señorita."

                "Just before they break down the door, señor. Take me in your arms and let me see your dear face and kiss me. Then I can die with good grace, too."

                "You must live—"

                "Not to be sent to a foul cárcel, señor. And what would life be without you?"

                "There is Don Diego—"

                "I think of nobody but you, señor. A Pulido will know how to die. And perhaps my death will bring home to men the perfidy of the governor. Perhaps it may be of service."

                Again the heavy timber struck against the door. They could hear his excellency shouting encouragement to the troopers, could hear the natives shrieking and Sergeant Gonzales crying his orders in his loud voice.

                Señor Zorro hurried to the window again, chancing a bullet, and glanced out. He saw that half a dozen troopers had their blades ready, were prepared to rush over the door the moment it was down. They would get him—but he would get some of them first! Again the ram against the door.

                "It is almost the end, señor," the girl whispered.

                "I know it, señorita."

                "I would we had had better fortune, yet I can die gladly since this love has been in my life. Now—señor—your face and lips. The door—is crashing in!"

                She ceased to sob, and lifted her face bravely. Señor Zorro sighed, and one hand fumbled with the bottom of his mask.

                But suddenly there was a tumult outside in the plaza, and the battering at the door ceased, and they could hear loud voices that they had not heard before.

                Señor Zorro let go of his mask, and darted to the window.

Chapter 38 - The Man Unmasked

                Twenty-three horsemen were galloping into the plaza. The beasts they rode were magnificent, their saddles and bridles were heavily chased with silver, their cloaks were of the finest materials, and they wore hats with plumes, as if this was somewhat of a dress affair and they wished the world to know it. Each man sat straight and proud in his saddle, his blade at his side, and every blade had a jeweled hilt, being at once serviceable and a rich ornament.

                They galloped along the face of the tavern, between the door and the soldiers who had been battering it, between the building and the governor and assembled citizens, and there they turned and stood their horses side by side, facing his excellency.

                "Wait! There is a better way!" their leader cried.

                "Ha!" screeched the governor. "I understand. Here we have the young men of all the noble families in the southland. They have come to show their loyalty by taking this Curse of Capistrano. I thank you, caballeros. Yet it is not my wish to have any of you slain by this fellow. He is not worthy your blades, señores. Do you ride to one side and lend the strength of your presence, and let my troopers deal with the rogue. Again I thank you for this show of loyalty, for this demonstration that you stand for law and order and all it means, for constituted authority—"

                "Peace!" their leader cried. "Your excellency, we represent power in this section, do we not?"

                "You do, caballeros," the governor said.

                "Our families say who shall rule, what laws shall be just, do they not?"

                "They have great influence," the governor said.

                "You would not care to stand alone against us?"

                "Most assuredly not!" his excellency cried. "But I pray you, let the troopers get this fellow. It is not seemly that a caballero should suffer wound or death from his blade."

                "It is to be regretted that you do not understand."

                "Understand?" queried the governor, in a questioning tone, glancing up and down the line of mounted men.

                "We have taken counsel with ourselves, excellency. We know our strength and power, and we have decided upon certain things. There have been things done that we cannot countenance.

                "The frailes of the missions have been despoiled by officials. Natives have been treated worse than dogs. Even men of noble blood have been robbed because they have not been friendly to the ruling powers."

                "Caballero—"

                "Peace, excellency, until I have done. This thing came to a crisis when a hidalgo and his wife and daughter were thrown into a cárcel by your orders. Such a thing cannot be countenanced, excellency, and so we have banded ourselves together, and here we take a hand. Be it known that we ourselves rode with this Señor Zorro when he invaded the cárcel and rescued the prisoners, that we carried Don Carlos and the Doña Catalina to places of safety, and that we have pledged our words and honors and blades that they shall not be persecuted more."

                "I would say—"

                "Silence, until I have done! We stand together, and the strength of our united families is behind us. Call upon your soldiers to attack us, if you dare! Every man of noble blood up and down the length of El Camino Real would flock to our defense, would unseat you from your office, would see you humbled. We await your answer, excellency."

                "What—what would you?" his excellency gasped.

                "First, proper consideration for Don Carlos Pulido and his family. No cárcel for them. If you have the courage to try them for treason, be sure that we will be on hand at the trial, and deal with any man who gives perjured testimony, and with any magistrado who does not conduct himself properly. We are determined, excellency."

                "Perhaps I was hasty in the matter, but I was led to believe certain things," the governor said. "I grant you your wish. One side now, caballeros, while my men get at this rogue in the tavern."

                "We are not done," their leader said. "We have things to say regarding this Señor Zorro. What has he done—actually—excellency? Is he guilty of any treason? He has robbed no man except those who robbed the defenseless first. He has whipped a few unjust persons. He has taken sides with the persecuted, for which we honor him. To do such a thing, he took his life in his own hands. He successfully evaded your soldiers. He resented insults, as any man has the right to do."

                "What would you?"

                "A complete pardon, here and now, for this man known as Señor Zorro."

                "Never!" the governor cried. "He has affronted me personally. He shall die the death!" He turned around and saw Don Alejandro Vega standing near him. "Don Alejandro, you are the most influential man in this south country," he said. "You are the one man against whom even the governor dare not stand. You are a man of justice. Tell these young caballeros that what they wish cannot be granted. Bid them retire to their homes, and this show of treason will be forgotten."

                "I stand behind them!" Don Alejandro thundered.

                "You—you stand behind them?"

                "I do, your excellency. I echo every word they have spoken in your presence. Persecution must cease. Grant their requests, see that your officials do right hereafter, return to San Francisco de Asis, and I take my oath that there shall be no treason in this southland. I shall see to it myself. But oppose them, excellency, and I shall take sides against you, see you driven from office and ruined, and your foul parasites with you."

                "This terrible, willful southland!" the governor cried.

                "Your answer?" Don Alejandro demanded.

                "I can do nothing but agree," the governor said. "But there is one thing—"

                "Well!'

                "I spare the man's life if he surrenders, but he must stand trial for the murder of Captain Ramón."

                "Murder?" queried the leader of the caballeros, "It was a duel between gentlemen, excellency. Señor Zorro resented an insult on the part of the comandante to the señorita."

                "Ha! But Ramón was a caballero—"

                "And so is this Señor Zorro. He told us as much, and we believe him, for there was no falsehood in his voice. So it was a duel, excellency, and between gentlemen, according to the code, and Captain Ramón was unfortunate that he was not a better man with a blade. That is understood? Your answer."

                "I agree," the governor said weakly. "I pardon him, and I go home to San Francisco de Asis, and persecution ceases in this locality. But I hold Don Alejandro to his promise—that there be no treason against me here if I do these things."

                "I have given my word," Don Alejandro said.

                The caballeros shrieked their happiness and dismounted. They drove the soldiers away from the door, Sergeant Gonzales growling into his mustache because here was a reward gone glimmering again.

                "Within there, Señor Zorro!" one cried. "Have you heard?"

                "I have heard, caballero!"

                "Open the door and come out amongst us—a free man!"

                There was a moment's hesitation, and then the battered door was unbarred and opened, and Señor Zorro stepped out with the señorita on his arm. He stopped just in front of the door, removed his sombrero and bowed low before them.

                "A good day to you, caballeros!" he cried. "Sergeant, I regret that you have missed the reward, but I shall see that the amount is placed to the credit of you and your men with the landlord of the tavern."

                "By the saints, he is a caballero!" Gonzales cried.

                "Unmask, man!" cried the governor. "I would see the features of the person who has fooled my troopers, has gained caballeros to his banner, and has forced me to make a compromise."

                "I fear that you will be disappointed when you see my poor features," Señor Zorro replied. "Do you expect me to look like Satan? Or can it be possible, on the other hand, that you believe I have an angelic countenance?"

                He chuckled, glanced down at the Señorita Lolita, and then put up a hand and tore off his mask.

                A chorus of gasps answered the motion, an explosive oath or two from the soldiers, cries of delight from the caballeros, and a screech of mingled pride and joy from one old hidalgo.

                "Don Diego, my son—my son!"

                And the man before them seemed to droop suddenly in the shoulders, and sighed, and spoke in a languid voice.

                "These be turbulent times. Can a man never meditate on music and the poets?"

                And Don Diego Vega, the Curse of Capistrano, was clasped for a moment in his father's arms.

Chapter 39 - "Meal Mush and Goat's Milk!"

                They crowded forward—troopers, natives, caballeros, surrounding Don Diego Vega and the señorita who clutched at his arm and looked up at him from proud and glistening eyes.

                "Explain! Explain!" they cried.

                "It began ten years ago, when I was but a lad of fifteen," he said. "I heard tales of persecution. I saw my friends, the frailes, annoyed and robbed. I saw soldiers beat an old native who was my friend. And then I determined to play this game.

                "It would be a difficult game to play, I knew. So I pretended to have small interest in life, so that men never would connect my name with that of the highwayman I expected to become. In secret, I practiced horsemanship and learned how to handle a blade—"

                "By the saints, he did," Sergeant Gonzales growled.

                "One half of me was the languid Don Diego you all knew, and the other half was the Curse of Capistrano I hoped one day to be. And then the time came, and my work began.

                "It is a peculiar thing to explain, señores. The moment I donned cloak and mask, the Don Diego part of me fell away. My body straightened, new blood seemed to course through my veins, my voice grew strong and firm, fire came to me! And the moment I removed cloak and mask I was the languid Don Diego again. Is it not a peculiar thing?

                "I had made friends with this great Sergeant Gonzales, and for a purpose."

                "Ha! I guess the purpose, caballeros!" Gonzales cried. "You tired whenever this Señor Zorro was mentioned, and did not wish to hear of violence and bloodshed, but always you asked me in what direction I was going with my troopers—and you went in the other direction and did your confounded work."

                "You are an excellent guesser," said Don Diego, laughing, as did the others about him. "I even crossed blades with you, so you would not guess I was Señor Zorro. You remember the rainy night at the tavern? I listened to your boasts, went out and donned mask and cloak, came in and fought you, escaped, took off mask and cloak, and returned to jest with you."

                "Ha!"

                "I visited the Pulido hacienda as Don Diego and a short time later returned as Señor Zorro and held speech with the señorita here. You almost had me, sergeant, that night at Fray Felipe's—the first night, I mean."

                "Ha! You told me there that you had not seen Señor Zorro."

                "Nor had I. The fray does not keep a mirror, thinking that it makes for vanity. The other things were not difficult, of course. You can easily understand how, as Señor Zorro, I happened to be at my own house in town when the comandante insulted the señorita.

                "And the señorita must forgive me the deception. I courted her as Don Diego, and she would have none of me. Then I tried it as Señor Zorro, and the saints were kind, and she gave me her love.

                "Perhaps there was some method in that, also. For she turned from the wealth of Don Diego Vega to the man she loved, though she deemed him, then, an outcast and outlaw.

                "She has showed me her true heart, and I am rejoiced at it. Your excellency, this señorita is to become my wife, and I take it you will think twice before you will annoy her family further."

                His excellency threw out his hands in a gesture of resignation.

                "It was difficult to fool you all, but it has been done," Don Diego continued. "Only years of practice allowed me to accomplish it. And now Señor Zorro shall ride no more, for there will be no need, and moreover a married man should take some care of his life."

                "And what man do I wed?" the Señorita Lolita asked, blushing because she spoke the words where all could hear.

                "What man do you love?"

                "I had fancied that I loved Señor Zorro, but it comes to me now that I love the both of them," she said. "Is it not shameless? But I would rather have you Señor Zorro than the old Don Diego I knew."

                "We shall endeavor to establish a golden mean," he replied, laughing again. "I shall drop the old languid ways and change gradually into the man you would have me. People will say that marriage made a man of me."

                He stooped and kissed her there before them all.

                "Meal mush and goat's milk!" swore Sergeant Gonzales.