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

 art by Reed Crandall - Feature Comics #52 - Comics Favorites, Inc., January 1942.

Good Readings: "Idéia de Deus" by Gonçalves Dias (in Portuguese)

I
À voz de Jeová infindos mundos
Se formaram do nada;
Rasgou-se o horror das trevas, fez-se o dia,
E a noite foi criada,
Luziu no espaço a lua! sobre a terra
Rouqueja o mar raivoso,
E as esferas nos céus ergueram hinos
Ao Deus prodigioso.
Hino de amar a criação, que soa
Eternal, incessante,
Da noite no remanso, no ruído
Do dia cintilante!
A morte, as aflições, o espaço, o tempo,
O que é para o Senhor?
Eterno, imenso, que lh’importa a sanha
Do tempo roedor?
Como um raio de luz, percorre o espaço,
E tudo nota e vê -
O argueiro, os mundos, o universo, o justo;
E o homem que não crê.
E ele que pode aniquilar os mundos,
Tão forte como ele é,
E vê e passa, e não castiga o crime,
Nem o ímpio sem fé!
Porém quando corrupto um povo inteiro
O Nome seu maldiz,
Quando só vive de vingança e roubos,
Julgando-se feliz;
Quando o ímpio comanda, quando o justo
Sofre as penas do mal,
E as virgens sem pudor, e as mães sem honra.
E a justiça venal;
Ai da perversa, da nação maldita,
Cheia de ingratidão,
Que há de ela mesma sujeitar seu colo
A justa punição.
Ou já terrível peste expande as asas,
Bem lenta a esvoaçar;
Vai de uns a outros, dos festins conviva,
Hóspede em todo o lar!
Ou já torvo rugir da guerra acesa
Espalha a confusão;
E a esposa, e a filha, de tenor opresso,
Não sente o coração.
E o pai, e o esposo, no morrer cruento,
Vomita o fel raivoso;
- Milhões de insetos vis que um pé gigante
Enterra em chão lodoso.
E do povo corrupto um povo nasce
Esperançoso e crente.
Como do podre e carunchoso tronco
Hástea forte e virente.

II
Oh! como é grande o Senhor Deus, que os mundos
Equilibra nos ares;
Que vai do abismo aos céus, que susta as iras
Do pélago fremente,
A cujo sopro a máquina estrelada
Vacila nos seus eixos,
A cujo aceno os querubins se movem
Humildes, respeitosos,
Cujo poder, que é sem igual, excede
A hipérbole arrojada!
Oh! como é grande o Senhor Deus dos mundos,
O Senhor dos prodígios.

III
Ele mandou que o sol fosse princípio,
E razão de existência,
Que fosse a luz dos homens - olho eterno
Da sua providência.
Mandou que a chuva refrescasse os membros,
Refizesse o vigor
Da terra hiante, do animal cansado
Em praino abrasador.
Mandou que a brisa sussurrasse amiga,
Roubando aroma à flor;
Que os rochedos tivessem longa vida,
E os homens grato amor!
Oh! como é grande e bom o Deus que manda
Um sonho ao desgraçado,
Que vive agro viver entre misérias,
De ferros rodeado;
O Deus que manda ao infeliz que espere
Na sua providência;
Que o justo durma, descansado e forte
Na sua consciência!
Que o assassino de contínuo vele,
Que trema de morrer;
Enquanto lá nos céus, o que foi morto,
Desfruta outro viver!
Oh! como é grande o Senhor Deus, que rege
A máquina estrelada,
Que ao triste dá prazer; descanso e vida
À mente atribulada!

Friday's Sung Word: "Hino do São Cristovão" by Lamartine Babo (in Portuguese)

São Cristóvão, São Cristóvão teu passado é tão belo,
quantas vitórias em Figueira de Melo.
Quando vences outro clube
Oh, São Cristóvão, pertences
Aos corações são-cristovenses.
Estimulam a tua fibra extraordinária,
os grandes feitos do saudoso Cantuária.
Avante, São Cristóvão, por teu bem, por nosso bem,
pela grandeza dos esportes que esta terra tem.

És de um bairro cuja história tem valor profundo,
bairro ditoso de D. Pedro II.
Quando vais à zona sul jogar com um clube bem forte,
tens a torcida da zona norte.
São Cristóvão, São Cristóvão, teu passado é tão cheio,
aos teus rivais inspiras sempre receio.
Avante, São Cristóvão, por teu bem, por nosso bem,
pela grandeza dos esportes que esta terra tem.

You can hear the São Cristovão Anthem sung by Sílvio Caldas here.

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

Chapter 33 - Flight and Pursuit

                That the determined pursuit of Señor Zorro and his band of caballeros from the cárcel had been taken up so quickly was due to Sergeant Pedro Gonzales.

                Sergeant Gonzales had heard the shots and had rushed from the tavern with the other troopers at his heels, glad of an excuse to escape without paying for the wine he had ordered. He had heard the shout of the jailer and had understood it, and immediately had grasped the situation.

                "Señor Zorro is rescuing the prisoners!" he screeched. "The highwayman is in our midst again! To horse, troopers, and after him! There is a reward—"

                They knew all about the reward, especially the members of the governor's bodyguard, who had heard his excellency rave at mention of the highwayman's name and declare he would make a captain of the trooper who captured him or brought in his carcass.

                They rushed for their horses, swung themselves into their saddles, and dashed across the plaza toward the cárcel with Sergeant Gonzales at their head.

                They saw the masked caballeros galloping across the plaza, and Sergeant Gonzales rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand and swore softly that he had been taking too much wine. He had lied so often about Señor Zorro having a band of men at his back, that here was the band materialized out of his falsehoods.

                When the caballeros split into three detachments, Sergeant Gonzales and his troopers were so near them that they observed the maneuver. Gonzales quickly made three troops of the men who followed him, and sent a troop after each band.

                He saw the leader of the caballeros turn toward San Gabriel, he recognized the leap of the great horse the highwayman rode, and he took after Señor Zorro with an exultant heart, being of a mind to capture or slay the highwayman rather than to retake any of the rescued prisoners. For Sergeant Pedro Gonzales had not forgotten the time Señor Zorro had played with him in the tavern at Reina de Los Angeles, nor had he given up the idea of taking his vengeance for it.

                He had seen Señor Zorro's horse run before, and he wondered a bit now because the highwayman was not putting greater distance between himself and his pursuers. And Sergeant Gonzales guessed the reason—that Señor Zorro had Señorita Lolita Pulido on the saddle before him and was carrying her away.

                Gonzales was in the lead, and now and then he turned his head and shouted orders and encouragement to his troopers. The miles flew beneath them, and Gonzales was glad because he was keeping Señor Zorro in sight.

                "To Fray Felipe's—that is where he is riding!" Gonzales told himself. "I knew that old fray was in league with the bandit! In some manner he tricked me when I sought this Señor Zorro at his hacienda before. Perhaps this highwayman has a clever hiding-place there. Ha! By the saints, I shall not be tricked again!"

                On they rode, now and then catching glimpses of the man they pursued, and always in the minds of Gonzales and his troopers were thoughts of the reward and promotion a capture would mean. Their horses were beginning to show some fatigue already, but they did not spare the animals.

                They saw Señor Zorro turn into the driveway that led to Fray Felipe's house; and Sergeant Gonzales chuckled low down in his throat because he felt that he had guessed correctly.

                He had the highwayman now! If Señor Zorro continued to ride, he could be seen and followed because of the bright moonlight; if he stopped, Señor Zorro could not hope to cope successfully with half a score of troopers with Gonzales at their head.

                They dashed up to the front of the house and started to surround it. They saw Señor Zorro's horse. And then they saw the highwayman himself, and Gonzales cursed because half a dozen troopers were between him and his prey, and were at him with their swords, threatening to end the business before Gonzales could reach the scene.

                He tried to force his horse into the fight He saw Señor Zorro spring into a saddle and dash away, and the troopers after him. Gonzales, not being close, gave his attention to the other half of his duty—he bade some of his soldiers surround the house so that none could leave it.

                Then he saw Señor Zorro take the stone fence, and started in pursuit, all except the guards around the house joining him. But Sergeant Gonzales went only as far as the crest of the first hill. He noticed how the highwayman's horse was running, and realized that he could not be overtaken. Perhaps the sergeant could gain some glory if he returned to Fray Felipe's house and recaptured the señorita.

                The house was still being guarded when he dismounted before it, and his men reported that none had attempted to leave the building. He called two of his men to his side and knocked on the door. Almost instantly it was opened by Fray Felipe.

                "Are you just from bed, fray?" Gonzales asked.

"Is it not a time of night for honest men to be abed?" Fray Felipe asked in turn.

"It is, fray—yet we find you out of it. How does it "happen that you have not come from the house before? Did we not make enough noise to awaken you?"

"I heard sounds of combat—"

"And you may hear more, fray, else feel the sting of a whip again, unless you answer questions swiftly and to the point. Do you deny that Señor Zorro has been here?"

                "I do not."

"Ha! Now we have it. You admit, then, that you are in league with this pretty highwayman, that you shield him upon occasion? You admit that, fray?"

"I admit nothing of the sort," Fray Felipe replied. "I never set my eyes on this Señor Zorro, to my knowledge, until a very few minutes ago."

"That is a likely story. Tell it to the stupid natives, but do not try to tell it to a wise trooper, fray. What did this Señor Zorro wish?"

                "You were so close upon the man's heels, señor, that he scarce had time to wish for anything," Fray Felipe said.

"Yet you had some speech with him?"

"I opened the door at his knock, señor, the same as I opened it at yours."

                "What said he?"

                "That soldiers were pursuing him."

                "And he asked that you hide him, so he could escape capture at our hands?"

                "He did not."

                "Wanted a fresh horse, did he?"

                "He did not say as much, señor. If he is such a thief as he is painted, undoubtedly he would merely have taken a horse without asking, had he wanted it."

                "Ha! What business had he with you, then? It would be well for you to answer openly, fray."

                "Did I say that he had business with me?"

                "Ha! By the saints-"

"The saints are better off your lips, señor—boaster and drunkard!"

                "Do you wish to receive another beating, fray? I am riding on his excellency's business. Do not you delay me further! What said this pretty highwayman?"

                "Nothing that I am at liberty to repeat to you, señor," Fray Felipe said.

                Sergeant Gonzales pushed him aside roughly and entered the living-room, and his two troopers followed at his heels.

                "Light the candelero," Gonzales commanded his men. "Take candles, if you can find any. We search the house."

                "You search my poor house?" Fray Felipe cried. "And what do you expect to find?" Fray Felipe asked.

                "I expect to find the piece of merchandise this pretty Señor Zorro left here, fray."

                "What do you imagine he left?"

                "Ha! A package of clothing, I suppose! A bundle of loot! A bottle of wine! A saddle to be mended! What would the fellow leave, fray? One thing impresses me—Señor Zorro's horse carried double when he arrived at your house, and was carrying none but Señor Zorro when he departed."

                "And you expect to find—"

                "The other half of the horse's load," replied Gonzales. "Failing to find it, we may try a twist or two of your arm to see whether you can be made to speak."

                "You would dare? You would so affront a fray? You would descend to torture?"

                "Meal mush and goat's milk!" quoth Sergeant Gonzales. "You fooled me once in some manner, but you will not so fool me again. Search the house, troopers, and be sure that you search it well. I shall remain in this room and keep this entertaining fray company. I shall endeavor to discover what his sensations were while he was being whipped for swindling."

                "Coward and brute!" Fray Felipe thundered. "There may come a day when persecution shall cease."

                "Meal mush and goat's milk!"

                "When this disorder ends and honest men be given their just dues!" Fray Felipe cried. "When those who have founded a rich empire here shall receive the true fruits of their labor and daring instead of having them stolen by dishonest politicians and men who stand in their favor!"

                "Goat's milk and meal mush, fray!"

                "When there shall be a thousand Señor Zorros, and more if necessary, to ride up and down El Camino Real and punish those who do wrong! Sometimes I would that I were not a fray, that I might play such a game myself!"

                "We'd run you down in short order and stretch a rope with your weight," Sergeant Gonzales told him. "Did you help his excellency's soldiers more, perhaps his excellency would treat you with more consideration."

                "I give aid to no spawn of the devil," Fray Felipe said.

                "Ha! Now you grow angry, and that is against your principles. Is it not the part of a robed fray to receive what comes his way and give thanks for it, no matter how much it chokes him? Answer me that, angry one."

                "You have about as much knowledge of a Franciscan's principles and duties as has the horse you ride."

                "I ride a wise horse, a noble animal. He comes when I call and gallops when I command. Do not deride him until you ride him. Ha! An excellent jest."

                "Imbecile!"

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

               

Chapter 34 - The Blood of the Pulidos

                The two troopers came back into the room. They had searched the house well, they reported, invading every corner of it, and no trace had been found of any person other than Fray Felipe's native servants, all of whom were too terrified to utter a falsehood, and had said they had seen nobody around the place who did not belong there.

                "Ha! Hidden away well, no doubt!" Gonzales said. "Fray, what is that in the corner of the room?"

                "Bales of hides," Fray Felipe replied.

                "I have been noticing it from time to time. The dealer from San Gabriel must have been right when he said the hides he purchased of you were n6t properly cured. Are those?"

                "I think you will find them so."

                "Then why did they move?" Sergeant Gonzales asked. "Three times I saw the corner of a bale move. Soldiers, search there."

                Fray Felipe sprang to his feet.

                "Enough of this nonsense," he cried. "You have searched and found nothing. Search the barns next and then go! At least let me be master in my own house. You have disturbed my rest enough as it is."

                "You will take a solemn oath, fray, that there is nothing alive behind those bales of hides?" Fray Felipe hesitated, and Sergeant Gonzales grinned. "Not ready to forswear yourself, eh?" the sergeant asked. "I had a thought you would hesitate at that, my robed Franciscan. Soldiers, search the bales."

                The two men started toward the corner. But they had not covered one half the distance when señorita Lolita Pulido stood up behind the bales of hides and faced them.

                "Ha! Unearthed at last!" Gonzales cried. "Here is the package Señor Zorro left in the fray's keeping! And a pretty package it is! Back to cárcel she goes, and this escape will but make her final sentence the greater!"

                But there was Pulido blood in the señorita's veins, and Gonzales had not taken that into account. Now the señorita stepped to the end of the pile of hides, so that light from the candelero struck full upon her.

                "One moment, señores," she said.

                One hand came from behind her back, and in it she held a long, keen knife such as sheep skinners used. She put the point of the knife against her breast, and regarded them bravely.

                "Señorita Lolita Pulido does not return to the foul cárcel now or at any time, señores," she said. "Rather would she plunge this knife into her heart, and so die as a woman of good blood should. If his excellency wishes for a dead prisoner, he may have one."

                Sergeant Gonzales uttered an exclamation of annoyance. He did not doubt that the señorita would do as she had threatened, if the men made an attempt to seize her. And while he might have ordered the attempt in the case of an ordinary prisoner, he did not feel sure that the governor would say he had done right if he ordered it now. After all, Señorita Pulido was the daughter of a don, and her self-inflicted death might cause trouble for his excellency. It might prove the spark to the powder magazine.

                "Señorita, the person who takes his or her own life risks eternal damnation," the sergeant said. "Ask this fray if it is not so. You are only under arrest, not convicted and sentenced. If you are innocent, no doubt you soon will be set at liberty."

                "It is no time for lying speeches, señor," the girl replied. "I realize the circumstances only too well, I have said that I will not return to cárcel, and I meant it—and mean it now. One step toward me, and I take my own hie."

                "Señorita—" Fray Felipe began.

                "It is useless for you to attempt to prevent me, good fray," she interrupted. "I have pride left me, thank the saints. His excellency gets only my dead body, if he gets me at all."

                "Here is a pretty mess," Sergeant Gonzales exclaimed. "I suppose there is nothing for us to do except retire and leave the señorita to her freedom."

                "Ah, no, señor!" she cried quickly. "You are clever, but not clever enough by far. You would retire and continue to have your men surround the house? You would watch for an opportunity, and then seize me?"

                Gonzales growled low in his throat, for that had been his intention, and the girl had read it.

                "I shall be the one to leave," she said. "Walk backward, and stand against the wall, señores. Do it immediately, or I plunge this knife into my bosom."

                They could do nothing except obey. The soldiers looked to the sergeant for instructions, and the sergeant was afraid to risk the señorita's death, knowing it would call down upon his head the wrath of the governor, who would say that he had bungled.

                Perhaps, after all, it would be better to let the girl leave the house. She might be captured afterward, for surely a girl could not escape the troopers.

                She watched them closely as she darted across the room to the door. The knife was still held at her breast.

                "Fray Felipe, you wish to go with me?" she asked. "You may be punished if you remain."

                "Yet I must remain, señorita. I could not run away. May the saints protect you!"

                She faced Gonzales and the soldiers once more.

                "I am going through this door," she said. "You will remain in this room. There are troopers outside, of course, and they will try to stop me. I shall tell them that I have your permission to leave. If they call and ask you, you are to say that it is so."

                "And if I do not?"

                "Then I use the knife, señor."

                She opened the door, turned her head for an instant and glanced out.

                "I trust that your horse is an excellent one, señor, for I intend to use it," she told the sergeant.

                She darted suddenly through the door, and slammed it shut behind her.

                "After her!" Gonzales cried. "I looked into her eyes! She will not use the knife—she fears it!"

                He hurled himself across the room, the two soldiers with him. But Fray Felipe had been passive long enough. He went into action now. He did not stop to consider the consequences. He threw out one leg, and tripped Sergeant Gonzales. The two troopers crashed into him, and all went to the floor in a tangle.

                Fray Felipe had gained some time for her, and it had been enough. For the señorita had rushed to the horse and had jumped into the saddle. She could ride like a native. Her tiny feet did not reach halfway to the sergeant's stirrups, but she thought nothing of that.

                She wheeled the horse's head, kicked at his sides as a trooper rushed around the corner of the house. A pistol ball whistled past her head. She bent lower over the horse's neck and rode.

                Now a cursing Sergeant Gonzales was on the veranda, shouting for his men to get to horse and follow her. The moon was behind a bank of clouds again. They could not tell the direction the señorita was taking except by listening for the sounds of the horse's hoofs. And they had to stop to do that—and if they stopped they lost time and distance.

Chapter 35 - The Clash of Blades Again

                Señor Zorro stood like a statue in the native's hut, one hand grasping his horse's muzzle. The native crouched at his side.

                Down the highway came the drumming of horses' hoofs. Then the pursuit swept by, the men calling to one another and cursing the darkness, and rushed down the valley.

                Señor Zorro opened the door and glanced out, listened for a moment, and then led out his horse. He tendered the native a coin.

                "Not from you, señor," the native said.

                "Take it. You have need of it, and I have not," the highwayman said.

                He vaulted into the saddle and turned his horse up the steep slope of the hill behind the hut. The animal made little noise as it climbed to the summit. Señor Zorro descended into the depression on the other side, and came to a narrow trail, and along this he rode at a slow gallop, stopping his mount now and then to listen for sounds of other horsemen who might be abroad.

                He rode toward Reina de Los Angeles, but he appeared to be in no hurry about arriving at the pueblo. Señor Zorro had another adventure planned for this night, and it had to be accomplished at a certain time and under certain conditions.

                It was two hours later when he came to the crest of the hill above the town: He sat quietly in the saddle for some time, regarding the scene. The moonlight was fitful now, but now and then he could make out the plaza.

                He saw no troopers, heard nothing of them, decided that they had ridden back in pursuit of him, and that those who had been sent in pursuit of Don Carlos and the Dona Catalina had not yet returned. In the tavern there were lights, and in the presidio, and in the house where his excellency was a guest.

                Señor Zorro waited until it was dark and then urged his horse forward slowly, but off the main highway. He circled the pueblo, and in time approached the presidio from the rear.

                He dismounted now and led his horse, going forward slowly, often stopping to listen, for this was a very ticklish business and might end in disaster if a mistake were made.

                He stopped the horse behind the presidio where the wall of the building would cast a shadow if the moon came from behind the clouds again, and went forward cautiously, following the wall as he had done on that other night.

                When he came to the office window, he peered inside. Captain Ramón was there alone, looking over some reports spread on the table before him, evidently awaiting the return of his men.

                Señor Zorro crept to the corner of the building and found there was no guard. He had guessed and hoped that the com-andante had sent every available man to die chase, but he knew that he would have to act quickly, for some of the troopers might return.

                He slipped through the door and crossed the big lounging-room, and so came to the door of the office. His pistol was in his hand, and could a man have seen behind the mask, he would have observed that Señor Zorro's lips were crushed in a thin, straight line of determination.

                As upon that other night, Captain Ramón whirled around in his chair when he heard the door open behind him, and once more he saw the eyes of Señor Zorro glittering through his mask, saw the muzzle of the pistol menacing him.

                "Not a move. Not a sound. It would give me pleasure to fill your body with hot lead," Señor Zorro said. "You are alone—your silly troopers are chasing me where I am not."

                "By the saints—" Captain Ramon breathed. "Not so much as a whisper, señor, if you hope to live. Turn your back to me."

                "You would murder me?"

                "I am not that sort, comandante. And I said for you to make not a sound. Put your hands behind your back, for I am going to bind your wrists."

                Captain Ramón complied. Señor Zorro stepped forward swiftly, and bound the wrists with his own sash, which he tore from his waist. Then he whirled Captain Ramón around so that he faced him.

                "Where is his excellency?" he asked.

                "At Don Juan Estados's house."

                "I knew as much, but wanted to see whether you prefer to speak the truth tonight. It is well if you do so. We are going to call upon the governor."

                "To call—"

                "Upon his excellency, I said. And do not speak again. Come with me."

                He grasped Captain Ramón by the arm and hurried him from the office, across the lounging-room, out of the door. He piloted him around the building to where the horse was waiting.

                "Mount!" he commanded. "I shall sit behind you, with the muzzle of this pistol at the base of your brain. Make no mistake, comandante, unless you are tired of life. I am a determined man this night."

                Captain Ramón had observed it. He mounted as he was directed, and the highwayman mounted behind him, and held the reins with one hand and the pistol with the other.

                Captain Ramón could feel the touch of cold steel at the back of his head.

                Señor Zorro guided his horse with his knees instead of with the reins. He urged the beast down the slope and circled the town once more, keeping away from the beaten trails, and so approached the rear of the house where his excellency was a guest.

                Here was the difficult part of the adventure. He wanted to get Captain Ramón before the governor, to talk to both of them, and to do it without having anybody else interfere. He forced the captain to dismount, and led him to the rear wall of the house. There was a patio there, and they entered it.

                It appeared that señor Zorro knew the interior of the house well. He entered it through a servant's room, taking Captain Ramon with him, and passed through into a hall without awakening the sleeping native. They went along the hall slowly. From one room came the sound of snoring. From beneath the door of another light streamed.

                Señor Zorro stopped before that door and applied an eye to a crack at the side of it. If Captain Ramón harbored thoughts of voicing an alarm, or of offering battle, the touch of the pistol at the back of his head caused him to forget them.

                And he had scant time to think of a way out of this predicament, for suddenly Señor Zorro threw open the door, hurled Captain Ramón through it, followed himself, and shut the door quickly behind him. In the room there were his excellency and his host.

                "Silence, and do not move," Señor Zorro said. "The slightest alarm, and I put a pistol ball through the governor's head. That is understood? Very well, señores."

                "Señor Zorro!" the governor gasped.

                "The same, your excellency. I ask your host to be not frightened, for I mean him no harm if he sits quietly until I am done. Captain Ramón, kindly sit across the table from the governor. I am delighted to find the head of the state awake and awaiting news from those who are chasing me. His brain will be clear, and he can understand better what is said."

                "What means this outrage?" the governor exclaimed.

                "Captain Ramón, how comes this? Seize this man! You are an officer—"

                "Do not blame the comandante," Señor Zorro said. "He knows it is death to make a move. There is a little matter that needs explanation, and since I cannot come to you in broad day as a man should, I am forced to adopt this method. Make yourselves comfortable, señores. This may take some little time."

                His excellency fidgeted in his chair.

                "You have this day insulted a family of good blood, your excellency," Señor Zorro went on. "You have forgotten the proprieties to such an extent that you have ordered thrown into your miserable cárcel a hidalgo and his gentle wife and innocent daughter. You have taken such means to gratify a spite—"

                "They are traitors," his excellency said.

                "What have they done of treason?"

                "You are an outlaw with a price put upon your head. They have been guilty of harboring you, giving you aid."

                "Where got you this information?"

                "Captain Ramón has an abundance of evidence."

                "Ha! The comandante, eh? We shall see about that! Captain Ramón is present, and we can get at the truth. May I ask the nature of your evidence?"

                "You were at the Pulido hacienda," the governor said.

                "I admit                it."

                "A native saw you and carried word to the presidio. The soldiers hurried out to effect your capture."

                "A moment. Who said a native sounded the alarm?"

                "Captain Ramón assured me so."

                "Here is the first chance for the captain to speak the truth. As a matter of fact, comandante, was it not Don Carlos Pulido himself who sent the native? The truth!"

                "It was a native brought word."

                "And he did not tell your sergeant that Don Carlos had sent him? Did he not say that Don Carlos had slipped him the information in whispers while he was carrying his fainting wife to her room? Is it not true that Don Carlos did his best to hold me at his hacienda until the soldiers arrived, that might be captured? Did not Don Carlos thus try to show his loyalty to the governor?"

                "By the saints, Ramón, you never told me as much!" his excellency cried.

                "They are traitors," the captain declared stubbornly.

                "What other evidence?" Señor Zorro asked.

                "Why, when the soldiers arrived, you concealed yourself by some trick," the governor said. "And presently Captain Ramón himself reached the scene, and while he was there you crept from a closet, ran him through treacherously from behind, and made your escape. It is an evident fact that Don Carlos had hidden you in the closet"

                "By the saints!" Señor Zorro swore. "I had thought, Captain Ramón, that you were man enough to admit defeat, though I knew you for a scoundrel in other things. Tell the truth!"

                "That is—the truth."

                "Tell the truth!" Señor Zorro commanded, stepping closer to him and bringing up the pistol. "I came from that closet and spoke to you. I gave you time to draw blade and get on guard. We fenced for fully ten minutes, did we not?

                "I admit freely that for a moment you puzzled me, and then I solved your method of giving battle and knew you were at my mercy. And then, when I could have slain you easily, I but scratched your shoulder. Is not that the truth? Answer, as you hope to live!"

                Captain Ramón licked his dry lips, and could not meet the governor's eyes.

                "Answer!" Señor Zorro thundered.

                "It is—the truth," the captain acknowledged.

                "Ha! So I ran you through from behind, eh? It is an insult to my blade to have it enter your body. You see, your excellency, what manner of man you have for comandante here. Is there more evidence?"

                "There is," the governor said. "When the Pulidos were guests at the house of Don Diego Vega, and Don Diego was away, Captain Ramón went to pay his respects and found you there alone with the señorita."

                "And that shows what?"

                "That you are in league with the Pulidos. That they harbored you even in the house of Don Diego, a loyal man. And when the captain discovered you there, the señorita flung herself upon him and held him—delayed him, rather—until you made your escape through a window. Is not that enough?"

                Señor Zorro bent forward, and his eyes seemed to burn through the mask and into those of Captain Ramon.

                "So that is the tale he told, eh?" the highwayman said. "As a matter of fact, Captain Ramón is enamored of the señorita. He went to the house, found her alone, forced his attentions upon her, even told her that she should not object, since her father was in the bad graces of the governor. He attempted to caress her, and she called for help. I responded."

                "How did you happen to be there?"

                "I do not care to answer that, but I take my oath the señorita did not know of my presence. She called for aid, and I responded.

                "I made this thing you call a comandante kneel before her and apologize. And then I took him to the door and kicked him out into the dust! And afterward I visited him at the presidio and told him that he had given insult to a noble señorita—"

                "It appears that you hold some love for her yourself," the governor said.

                "I do, your excellency, and am proud to admit it."

                "Ha! You condemn her and her parents by that statement! You deny now they are in league with you?"

                "I do. Her parents do not know of our love."

                "This señorita is scarcely conventional."

                "Señor! Governor or no, another thought like that and I spill your blood," señor Zorro cried. "I have told you what happened that night at the house of Don Diego Vega. Captain Ramón will testify that what I have said is the exact truth. Is it not, comandante? Answer!"

                "It—it is the truth." The captain gulped, looking at the muzzle of the highwayman's pistol.

                "Then you have told me falsehood, and can no longer be an officer of mine!" the governor cried. "It appears that this highwayman can do as he pleases with you. Ha! But I still believe that Don Carlos Pulido is a traitor, and the members of his family, and it has availed you nothing, Señor Zorro, to play this little scene.

                "My soldiers shall continue to pursue them—and you! And before they are done, I'll have the Pulidos dragged in the dirt, and I'll have you stretching a rope with your carcass!"

                "Quite a bold speech," observed Señor Zorro. "You set your soldiers a pretty task, your excellency. I rescued your three prisoners tonight, and they have escaped."

                "They shall be retaken."

                "Time alone will tell that. And now I have another duty to perform here. Your excellency, you will take your chair to that far corner and sit there, and your host will sit beside you. And there you shall remain until I have finished."

                "What do you mean to do?"

                "Obey me," Señor Zorro cried. "I have scant time for argument, even with a governor."

                He watched while the two chairs were placed and the governor and his host had seated themselves. And then he stepped nearer Captain Ramon.

                "You insulted a pure and innocent girl, comandante," he said. "For that, you shall fight. Your scratched shoulder is healed now, and you wear your blade by your side. Such a man as you is not fit to breathe God's pure air. The country is better for your absence. On your feet, señor, and on guard!"

                Captain Ramón was white with rage. He knew that he was ruined. He had been forced to confess that he had lied. He had heard the governor remove his rank. And this man before him had been the cause of all of it.

                Perhaps in his anger he could kill this Señor Zorro, stretch this Curse of Capistrano on the floor with his life blood flowing away. Perhaps, if he did that, his excellency would relent.

                He sprang from his chair and backward to the side of the governor.

                "Unfasten my wrists!" he cried. "Let me at this dog!"

                "You were as good as dead before—you certainly are dead after using that word," Señor Zorro said calmly. The comandante's wrists were untied. He whipped out his blade, sprang forward with a cry, and launched himself in a furious attack upon the highwayman.

                Señor Zorro gave ground before this onslaught, and so obtained a position where the light from the candelero did not bother his eyes. He was skilled with a blade, and had fenced for life many times, and he knew the danger in the attack of an angered man who did not fence according to the code.

                And he knew, too, that such anger is spent quickly unless a fortunate thrust makes the possessor of it victor almost at once. And so he retreated step by step, guarding well, parrying vicious strokes, alert for an unexpected move.

                The governor and his host were sitting in their corner, but bending forward and watching the combat.

                "Run him through, Ramón, and I reinstate and promote you!" his excellency cried.

                The comandante thus was urged to do it. Señor Zorro found his opponent fighting much better than he had before in Don Carlos Pulido's house at the hacienda. He found himself forced to fight out of a dangerous corner, and the pistol he held in his left hand to intimidate the governor and his host bothered him.

                And suddenly he tossed it to the table, and then swung around so that neither of the two men could dart from a corner and get it without running the chance of receiving a blade between the ribs. And there he stood his ground and fought.

                Captain Ramón could not force him to give way now. His blade seemed to be a score. It darted in and out, trying to find a resting place in the captain's body; for Señor Zorro was eager to have an end of this and be gone. He knew that the dawn was not far away, and he feared that some trooper might come to the house with a report for the governor.

                "Fight, insulter of girls!" he cried. "Fight, man who tells a falsehood to injure a noble family! Fight, coward and poltroon! Now death stares you in the face, and soon you'll be claimed! Ha! I almost had you then! Fight, cur!"

                Captain Ramón cursed and charged, but Señor Zorro received him and drove him back, and so held his position. The perspiration was standing out on the captain's forehead in great globules. His breath was coming heavily from between his parted lips. His eyes were bright and bulging.

                "Fight, weakling!" The highwayman taunted him. "This time I am not attacking from behind. If you have prayers to say, say them—for your time grows short."

                The ringing blades, the shifting feet on the floor, the heavy breathing of the combatants and of the two spectators of this life-and-death struggle were the only sounds in the room. His excellency sat far forward on his chair, his hands gripping the edges of it so that his knuckles were white.

                "Kill me this highwayman!" he shrieked. "Use your good skill, Ramón! At him!"

                Captain Ramón rushed again, calling into play his last bit of strength, fencing with what skill he could command. His arms were as lead; his breath was fast. He thrust, he lunged—and made a mistake of a fraction of an inch.

                Like the tongue of a serpent, Señor Zorro's blade shot in. Thrice it darted forward, and upon the fair brow of Ramón, just between the eyes, there flamed suddenly a red, bloody letter Z.

                "The Mark of Zorro!" the highwayman cried. "You wear it forever now, comandante!"

                Señor Zorro's face became more stern. His blade shot in again and came out dripping red. The comandante gasped and slipped to the floor.

                "You have slain him!" the governor cried. "You have taken his life, wretch!"

                "Ha! I trust so. The thrust was through the heart, excellency. He never will insult a señorita again."

                Señor Zorro looked down at his fallen foe, regarded the governor a moment, then wiped his blade on the sash that had bound the comandante's wrists. He returned the blade to its scabbard and picked up his pistol from the table.

                "My night's work is done," he said.

                "And you shall hang for it!" his excellency cried.

                "Perhaps—when you catch me," replied the Curse of Capistrano, bowing ceremoniously.

                Then, without glancing again at the twitching body of him who had been Captain Ramone, he whirled through the door and was in the hall, and rushed through it to the patio and to his horse.