_The Further Adventures of Zorro_

                        _by_ Johnston McCulley

                  Author of “The Mark of Zorro,” etc.

               _Copyright, 1922, by Johnston McCulley._




                     CONTENTS


    CHAPTER I.       LAND RATS AND WATER RATS.
    CHAPTER II.      PEDRO THE BOASTER.
    CHAPTER III.     SUDDEN TURMOIL.
    CHAPTER IV.      FRAY FELIPE MAKES A VOW.
    CHAPTER V.       ZORRO TAKES THE TRAIL.
    CHAPTER VI.      ZORRO STRIKES.
    CHAPTER VII.     SEÑOR ZORRO’S DARING.
    CHAPTER VIII.    THE GOBLET.
    CHAPTER IX.      LOVE AND MYSTERY.
    CHAPTER X.       A DEAD PIRATE.
    CHAPTER XI.      ZORRO WALKS THE PLANK.
    CHAPTER XII.     TO THE RESCUE.
    CHAPTER XIII.    TRAGEDY AT A DISTANCE.
    CHAPTER XIV.     OUT OF THE DEPTHS.
    CHAPTER XV.      A SHOW OF GRATITUDE.
    CHAPTER XVI.     SINGING CABALLEROS.
    CHAPTER XVII.    A WILD RIDE.
    CHAPTER XVIII.   HOPE IS CRUSHED AGAIN.
    CHAPTER XIX.     DOUBLE-FACED.
    CHAPTER XX.      THE UNEXPECTED.
    CHAPTER XXI.     FACE TO FACE.
    CHAPTER XXII.    A PRICE TO BE PAID.
    CHAPTER XXIII.   THE SEÑORITA PLOTS ALSO.
    CHAPTER XXIV.    INTO THE OPEN.
    CHAPTER XXV.     AT THE PRESIDIO.
    CHAPTER XXVI.    HELPLESSNESS.
    CHAPTER XXVII.   FRAY FELIPE USES HIS WIT.
    CHAPTER XXVIII.  UNEXPECTED HELP.
    CHAPTER XXIX.    THE PLIGHT OF RUIZ.
    CHAPTER XXX.     FRAY FELIPE GETS HIS GOBLET.
    CHAPTER XXXI.    “MEAL MUSH AND GOAT’S MILK!”




        [Illustration: The Further Adventures of Zorro, Part I]




                              CHAPTER I.

                       LAND RATS AND WATER RATS.


Throughout a long summer day of more than a hundred years ago the high
fog had obscured the flaming ball of sun, and the coast of Southern
California had been bathed in a haze.

Then came the night, with indication of a drizzle that did not
materialize. For the bank of fog suddenly was split as though with a
sword, and the brilliant moon poured down, and the riven mist floated
away to let the land be blessed with brilliance and the tossing sea
dance in the silvery moonbeams.

Approaching the shore came a sinister vessel, craft of ill omen. She
sailed slowly under a spare spread of canvas, as though fearing to
reach her destination too soon, and her lights were not burning. The
hiss of the waters from her bows was a lazy sort of hiss, but the more
suggestive because of that. It was the playful hiss of a serpent always
ready to become enraged. Her appearance betokened stealth and crime.

She was low, rakish, swift. No proper seaman commanded her, since her
decks were foul and her sides badly in need of protecting paint. But
her sailing gear was in perfect condition, and the man at her helm
could have told that she answered to her rudder like a love-sick maiden
to her swain.

Amidships stood her commander, one Barbados, a monstrous giant of a
man with repugnant visage. Gigantic brass rings were in his mutilated
ears. His eyes were pig-like――tiny, glittering, wholly evil. His great
gnarled hands continually were forming themselves into brutish fists.
He wore no shirt, no shoes. His chest and back were covered with thick,
black, matted hair.

“By the saints!” he swore in a voice that drowned the slush of the
waters against the vessel’s sides. “Sanchez! Fools and devils! Is
it necessary to shout to the world our villainy? Look at that flag
flapping against the mast! Three hours after set of sun, and the flag
of the devil still flies! Discipline! Ha!”

“The flag!” Sanchez bellowed. There was no definite order given, but
the man nearest the mast was quick to lower the flag. Sanchez looked
back toward Barbados, and Barbados grunted and turned away to look
toward the distant land.

Sanchez was a smaller edition of Barbados, the evil lieutenant of an
evil chief. He was short and thick, and many a man had misjudged the
strength of his shoulders and arms and had discovered his sorry error
too late. The eyes of Sanchez glittered also, first as he looked at
Barbados, and then turned, as the chief had, to glance toward the
distant land.

A fair land it was, bathed in the mellow light of the moon. Along the
shore uncertain shadows played, like shapeless fairies at a game. And
here was a darker streak, where a cañon ran down to the sea――a cañon
with black depths caused by the rank undergrowth and stubby trees.

“There!” Barbados bellowed. He pointed toward the mouth of the cañon,
where the water hissed white against a jumble of rocks. “We go ashore
there, against the cliffs!”

Again there was no regular command, but the course of the pirate craft
was changed a little, and she sailed slowly toward the spot Barbados
had indicated. The chief grunted once more, and Sanchez hurried quickly
to his side.

“We land twoscore men!” Barbados commanded. “Twoscore will be enough.
I lead them, and you are to go with me. The others will remain aboard
and take the ship off shore again, and return to-morrow night two hours
before the dawn.”

“_Sí!_” Sanchez said.

“’Tis to be a pretty party, by the saints! Rich loot, food and wines,
honey and olives, gold and jewels and precious stones! Bronze native
wenches for such as like them! And time enough for it, eh? Ha! For some
four months we have sailed up and down the coast, now and then landing
and raiding to get a few pigs and cows. ’Tis time for a bold stroke!
And this――”

“It is arranged?” Sanchez questioned.

“Am I in the habit of rushing in where things are not arranged?”
Barbados demanded. “Señor Pirate, do you take me to be a weak and silly
fool?”

“If I did,” Sanchez replied, “I would have more wit than to say so to
your face!”

“Ha! Is it arranged? When the Governor’s own man arranges it? There is
a precious pair, the Governor and his man!” said Barbados, laughing
raucously. “Pirates and rogues we may be, but we can take lessons in
villainy from some of the gentry who bear the names of _caballeros_,
but have foul blood in their veins!”

“The thing has an evil look,” Sanchez was bold enough to assert. “I
like not a task too easy. By my naked blade, that which looks easy
often is not! If this should prove to be a trap――”

Barbados gave a cry of rage and whirled toward him suddenly, and
Sanchez retreated a single step, and his hand dropped to the naked
cutlass in his belt of tanned human skin.

“Try to draw it, fool!” Barbados cried. “I’ll have you choked black in
the face and hurled overboard for shark meat before your hand reaches
the blade!”

“I made no move to draw,” Sanchez wailed.

“There are times when I wonder why I allow you to remain at my side,”
Barbados told him, folding his gigantic arms across his hairy chest.
“And there are times when I wonder whether your heart is not turning to
that of a woman and your blood to water or swill. A trap, you fool! Am
I the man to walk into traps? Kindly allow me to attend to the finer
details of this business. And a pretty business it is!”

“The village of Reina de Los Angeles is miles in the interior,” Sanchez
wailed. “I do not like to get out of sight of the sea. With the
pitching planks of a deck beneath my bare feet――”

“Beware lest you have beneath your feet the plank that is walked until
a man reaches its end and drops to watery death!” Barbados warned him.
“Enough of this! Pick the men who are to land, and get ready the boats!”

An hour later the anchor had been dropped, and the pirate craft had
swung with the tide and was tugging at her chains like a puppy at a
leash. Over the sides went the boats, Barbados growling soft curses at
the noise his men made.

“We have nothing to fear, fools and devils!” he said. “But there will
be no surprise if some converted native sees us and carries to Reina de
Los Angeles word of our arrival. There is many a _hacienda_ in these
parts where pirates are detested. Silence, rogues! You’ll have your
fill of noise to-morrow night!”

Without knowing it, Barbados practiced a deal of psychology. These wild
men of the sea had before them a journey of some miles inland, and they
knew it and hated it, but the pirate chief continually hinted to them
of the rich loot at the end of the present trip, and his hints served
their purpose well.

Toward the shore they rowed, tossing on the breakers, making for the
dark spot where the cañon ran down into the sea. There a cliff some
twelve feet high circled back into the land, forming a natural shelter
against the land breeze at times and the sea winds at other times.

Through the surf they splashed, half naked, carrying naught except
their weapons, and no weapons save their cutlasses. They gathered on
the beach and watched the boats return to the ship, shrieking coarse
jests at the men compelled to remain behind.

Barbados took from his belt a tiny scrap of parchment and looked at it
closely. With him this passed for a map. He called Sanchez to his side,
turned his back to the sea, and looked along the dark reaches of the
cañon.

“Forward!” Barbados said. “And let there be little noise about it! If
we stumble across one of the accursed natives, slit his throat and so
silence it.”

“And if we meet a wandering _fray_ of the missions, slit him into
ribbons,” Sanchez added, chuckling.

To his wonder, Barbados grasped his arm so that Sanchez thought the
bone must break.

“Enough of that!” Barbados cried. “Touch no _fray_ in violence except I
give the word!”

“You love the robes and gowns?” Sanchez asked, in wonder.

“I love to protect myself,” Barbados replied. “It is an ill thing to
assault a _fray_ if it can be avoided.” He stopped speaking for a
moment, and seemed to shiver throughout the length and breadth of his
gigantic frame. “I had a friend once who struck a _fray_,” he added in
a whisper. “I do not like to remember what happened to him. Forward!”

Inland they tramped, mile after mile, keeping to the cañons, following
an _arroyo_ now and then, dodging from dark spot to dark spot, while
Barbados growled curses at the bright moon and Sanchez continually
admonished the men behind to keep silent.

It was a journey they disliked, but they liked to think of the loot
they would find at the end of it. On they went, toward the sleeping
town of Reina de Los Angeles. Besides Barbados and Sanchez, few of them
had seen the town. Pirates had been treated harshly there when they had
wandered inland. But now something had happened, it appeared, that made
a raid on the town a comparatively safe enterprise.

An hour before dawn they stumbled across a native, caught him as he
started to flee, and left his lifeless body behind. Then came the day,
and they went into hiding in a jumble of hills, within easy striking
distance of the town. They had covered ground well.

Sprawled on the sward they slept. Barbados, a little way aside,
consulted his poor map once more, and then called Sanchez to his side.

“Since we may have to split our force, it were well that you knew more
of this business,” he said.

“I am listening, Barbados.”

“This man who is to meet us to-morrow night at the edge of the town is
a high official.”

“I have heard you call him the Governor’s man.”

“Even so. He is to have matters arranged so that the town will be at
our mercy. It never has been raided properly. It will be necessary,
perhaps, to steal horses, and possibly a _carreta_ or two in which to
carry the loot. The town will be wide open for us, my friend.”

“There is a _presidio_ in Reina de Los Angeles, and where there is a
_presidio_ there are soldiers,” Sanchez reminded him.

“And where there are soldiers there are fools,” Barbados added. He
stopped speaking long enough to chuckle. “I am not afraid of the
soldiers. This man with whom we are to deal will care for the troops.”

“I fail to understand it,” Sanchez said, shaking his head. “Why should
such things be? Do we split the loot with this high official?”

“Dream of innocence, listen!” Barbados hissed. “Listen, and comprehend,
else I choke you to death! An emissary came to me in the south from
this high official, and through him arrangements were made. Things have
happened since last we were in the vicinity of Reina de Los Angeles.
The Governor, I know, left San Francisco de Asis and journeyed south
with his gallant company. And while he was at Reina de Los Angeles
something happened that caused him to hate the town. There even was
talk for a time of him being forced to abdicate his high station.”

“Ha! More mystery!” Sanchez growled.

“It seems that in the southland there was a pest of a highwayman known
as Señor Zorro, and whom men called the Curse of Capistrano. A land
pirate, spit upon him! How can a man be a pirate on the land? However,
this Señor Zorro did several things worthy of note. From what I have
heard, I would we had a dozen of him in the ship’s company. We could
raid the whole of Mexico, capture the Spanish fleets and attack Europe.”

“This Señor Zorro must be quite some man,” Sanchez observed.

“I have heard but little, but enough to convince me that I would have
him for a friend rather than an enemy. He is a sort of devil. Now he is
here and now he is gone. Like a ghost he comes and like a specter he
disappears. Ha! You, a pirate, cross yourself!”

“I am afraid of no live man who lives, save perhaps yourself,” Sanchez
observed. “But I like not this talk of ghosts.”

“Here is the jest, fool and friend! It develops after a time that this
terrible Señor Zorro is nothing but a _caballero_ out to have a bit of
fun and protect the weak. There is a waste of time for you――protecting
the weak. And other sundry _caballeros_ joined hands with him and
punished minor officials who sought to steal and deal crookedly. That
is right and proper. If a thief, be a thief! If a pirate, be a pirate!
But do not play at being an honest man and try to be thief and pirate
at the same time.”

“Ha!” Sanchez grunted, meaning that he wished the sermon to end and the
tale to continue.

“This Señor Zorro, whose real name I have forgotten if ever I knew
it, carved his initial with his sword into the cheeks and foreheads
of many men. They call it the Mark of Zorro. And when his identity
was disclosed his friends stood by him and told the Governor that it
were best if he return to San Francisco de Asis and grace Reina de Los
Angeles with his continual absence.”

“And did he?”

“He did,” Barbados replied, “with hatred in his heart for this same
Reina de Los Angeles. He did not abdicate, of course. And he craves
revenge.”

“Ha! Here is where we enter?”

“It is,” Barbados replied. “We raid the town and take what we will, and
the Governor hears of it, sends soldiers running wildly up and down the
coast, and winks at himself in his looking-glass. For the information
and protection we get, we hand to the Governor’s man at a certain time
and place a certain share of the loot. Which we well can afford, since
we are to get it so easily.”

“If we forget to hand it――” Sanchez began.

“Friend and fool! By the saints! Are you an honest pirate or no? We
shall deal fairly. Think of the future. It is not only Reina de Los
Angeles. There is San Juan Capistrano, and rich San Diego de Alcála to
come after. By that time we have this pretty Governor and certain of
his officials in our mesh, and do as we will. Ha! What knaves! I would
rather be an honest pirate than a politician any day!”

The day passed and the dusk came. And once yet again Barbados indulged
in curses. For it was a beautiful moonlight night, half as light as the
day that had just died, and a man could be seen afar. But Barbados led
his wretched company on toward the town, and after a time they came to
the crest of a slope and saw lights twinkling in the distance.

Stretched on the ground so as not to form a silhouette against the sky,
Barbados looked over the scene. He could see the plaza, fires burning
before the huts of the natives, twinkling lights in the windows of the
pretentious houses where lived the men of wealth and blood and rank. To
one side was the _presidio_, and to the other the church.

Barbados grunted an order to Sanchez and crept forward alone. He
approached the end of the village, reached a spot where the shadows
were deep, and crouched to wait.

For half an hour he waited, grumbling his impatience. Then there came
to him a figure muffled in a long cloak. Barbados hissed a word that
had been agreed upon. The figure stepped quickly to his side.

“You are ready?”

“Ready, _señor_,” Barbados replied.

“Where are your men?”

“In hiding three hundred yards away, _señor_.”

“It were best to strike in about an hour. The soldiers will be sent
toward the south on a wild goose chase.”

“I understand, _señor_.”

“I ride back toward the hills to a _hacienda_ to pay a social call. It
would not do for me to be here, of course.”

“Certainly not, _señor_.”

“The way will be open to you. Take your will with the town, but do not
use the torch, except it be on the hut of some native. As soon as you
have your loot, make for the sea again. The soldiers will be sent on a
useless trail.”

“It is well arranged, _señor_. We’ll strike as soon as the troopers are
at a sufficient distance.”

“There is something else. You must send a few men of your force to the
_hacienda_ of Don Carlos Pulido, three miles to the north.”

“What is this, _señor_?” Barbados asked.

“A little matter of abducting a woman for me.”

“Ha!”

“The Señorita Lolita Pulido, understand. She is to be seized and
conducted to the coast and taken aboard ship. She is not to be harmed,
but treated with every respect. In four or five days I shall meet you
at the rendezvous on the southern coast, and claim her as my share of
the loot. Do this well, and that is all the share of loot I ask this
time.”

“A mere detail,” Barbados said.

“If the _hacienda_ is disturbed a bit during the abduction, it will
not cause the heartbreak of the Governor. This Don Carlos Pulido is no
friend of His Excellency.”

“I understand, _señor_.”

“The _señorita_ expects to become the bride to-morrow of Don Diego
Vega――curse him! That large house at the side of the plaza is his.
When you are raiding the town, Barbados, pay special attention to that
house. And should he get a knife between his ribs there will be no
sorrow on my part.”

“I begin to comprehend,” Barbados replied.

“I may depend upon you?”

“_Sí, señor_! We attend to the house of this Don Diego Vega and to the
don personally. I shall send a small force to abduct the girl and take
her to the shore. She will be waiting for you at the rendezvous to the
south.”

“Good! Watch when the soldiers ride away, and strike an hour later.
_Adios!_”

The cloak dropped for a moment as the man from the village straightened
himself. Barbados got a good look at his face as the moonlight struck
it. He gasped.

“Your forehead!” he said.

“It is nothing. That cursed beast of a Zorro put it there!”

Barbados looked again. On the man’s forehead was a ragged “Z,” put
there in such a manner that it would remain forever. There was a moment
of silence, and then Barbados found himself alone. The other had
slipped away through the shadows.

Barbados grinned. “Here is a double deal of some sort, but it need
bring me no fear,” he mused. “Here would be startling news for all men
to know. Wants to steal a girl now, does he? For his share of proper
loot I’d steal him half a score of girls!”

He grinned again and started back toward his men. Barbados did not fear
the soldiers, and he knew they would be sent away. He could be sure of
that. For the conspirator who had come to him out of the dark was none
other than Captain Ramón, _commandante_ of the _presidio_ at Reina de
Los Angeles.




                              CHAPTER II.

                          PEDRO THE BOASTER.


Sergeant Pedro Gonzales, a giant of a wine-guzzling soldier whose
heart was as large as his capacity for liquor, was known as “Pedro the
Boaster.” When there were military duties to be done he was to be found
at his post in the _presidio_, but at other times one found him at the
village _posada_, sitting before the big fireplace and remaking the
world with words.

On this moonlight night, Sergeant Pedro Gonzales crossed the plaza
with a corporal and a couple of soldiers, entered the inn, and called
in a loud voice for the landlord to fetch wine and be quick about it.
The sergeant had learned long since that the fat landlord held him in
terror, and did he but act surly and displeased he received excellent
service.

“Landlord, you are as fat as your wine is thin!” Sergeant Pedro
declared, sprawling at one of the tables. “I have a suspicion now and
then that you keep a special wineskin for me, and mix water with my
drink.”

“_Señor!_” the landlord protested.

“We honest soldiers are stationed here to protect you from liars and
thieves and dishonest travelers up and down El Camino Real, and you
treat us like the dirt beneath your boots.”

“_Señor!_ I have the greatest respect――”

“One of these fine days,” Gonzales interrupted, “there will be trouble.
Some gentleman of the highway will approach you with an idea of
robbery, and you’ll shriek for the soldiery. And then, fat one, I may
remember the watered wine, and be busy elsewhere!”

“But I protest――” the landlord began.

“More wine!” the sergeant shouted. “Must I get out my blade and carve
your wineskins――or your own skin? More wine of the best, and you’ll
get your pay when I get mine, if it is an honest score you keep. If my
friend, Don Diego Vega, was here――!”

“That same friend of yours makes merry a little later in the evening,”
the landlord said, as he went to fill the wine cups. “To-morrow he is
to take a bride.”

“Pig, do you suppose I do not know it?” Gonzales screeched. “Think you
that I have been asleep these past few months? Was I not in the thick
of it when Don Diego Vega played at being Señor Zorro?”

“You were in the thick of it,” the corporal admitted, with a touch of
sarcasm in his voice.

“Ha!” cried the sergeant. “There was a turbulent time for you! Here in
this very room I fought him, blade to blade, thinking that he was some
stinking highwayman. And just as I was getting the better of it――”

“How is this?” the corporal shrieked.

“Just as I was getting the better of the blade match,” Gonzales
reaffirmed, glaring at the corporal, “back he went and dashed through
the door! And thereafter he set the town about its own ears for some
time to come.”

“It occurs to me that I saw that fight,” the corporal declared. “If you
were getting the best of it at any stage, then were mine eyes at fault.”

“I know a man,” said the sergeant, darkly, “who will do extra guard
duty for a score of days.”

“Ha!” the corporal grunted. “You do not like plain speech!”

“I do not like a soldier to make mock of his superiors,” the sergeant
replied. “It were unseemly for me to make remarks, for instance,
concerning our _commandante_, Captain Ramón, but let it be said
that he fought this Señor Zorro, too. And Captain Ramón wears on his
forehead Zorro’s mark. You will notice that there is no carved Z on my
face!”

“Ha!” the corporal grunted again. “It were best, sergeant, to voice
such remarks inwardly. The _commandante_ is not proud of the mark he
wears.”

Gonzales changed the subject. “The wine!” he thundered. “It goes well
on a moonlight night, the same as on a stormy one. But moonlight is a
poor business save for lovesick swains. ’Tis no night for a soldier.
Would one expect thieves to descend through the moonlight?”

“There be pirates,” the corporal said.

“Pirates!” Gonzales’s great fist descended and met the table with a
crash, sending the wine cups bouncing. “Pirates! You have noticed no
pirates in Reina de Los Angeles, have you? They have not been playing
around the _presidio_, have they? I am not saying that they know I am
stationed here, however―― Meal mush and goat’s milk! Pirates is my
dish!”

“The town grows wealthy, and they may come,” the corporal said.

“You fear? You tremble?” Gonzales cried. “Are you soldier or _fray_?
Pirates! By the saints, I would that they came! My sword arm grows fat
from little use.”

“Talk not of pirates!” the landlord begged. “Suppose they did come?”

“And what if they did?” Gonzales demanded. “Am I not here, dolt? Are
there not soldiers? Pirates? Ha!”

He sprang to his feet, those same feet spread wide apart. His hand
darted down, and he whipped out his blade.

“That for a pirate!” he shouted, and made a mighty thrust at the
wall. “This for a pirate!” And he slashed through the air, his blade
whistling so that the corporal and soldiers sprang backward, and the
four or five natives who happened to be in the inn cringed in a corner.
“Pirates!” cried Gonzales. “I would I could meet one this very night!
We grew stale from inaction. There is too much peace in the world! Meal
mush and goat’s milk!”

The door opened suddenly. Sergeant Gonzales stopped in the middle of
a sentence, and his blade stopped in the middle of an arc. And then
the sergeant and the other soldiers snapped to attention, for the
_commandante_ was before them.

“Sergeant Gonzales!” Captain Ramón commanded.

“_Sí!_”

“I could hear you shouting half way across the plaza. If you wish to
meet a pirate, perhaps you may have your wish. Rumors have been brought
by natives. Mount your men and proceed along El Camino Real toward the
south. Search the country well, once you are four or five miles from
the town. It is a bright moonlight night, and men may be seen at a
great distance.”

“It is an order!” the sergeant admitted.

“Leave but one man at the _presidio_ as guard. Return before dawn. Have
my best horse made ready, as I ride out to a _hacienda_ for a visit.
Go!”

“_Sí!_” Sergeant Gonzales grunted. He motioned to the soldiers, and
they hurried through the door. He sheathed his sword, and when the back
of Captain Ramón was turned for an instant he tossed off the wine that
had been before him, and hurried after his men. The _commandante_ drew
off his gloves and sat at one of the tables.

Gonzales led the way across the plaza and toward the _presidio_. He was
growling low down in his throat.

“This is a fine state of affairs!” he said. “Ride all night and kick up
the dust! Back before dawn with nothing done!”

“But you wanted pirates,” the corporal protested.

“Think you they will stand in the middle of El Camino Real and await
our pleasure?” Gonzales growled. “What pirate would be abroad a night
like this? Could we but meet some――ha! There is a special reward for
pirates!”

Even before they had reached the entrance of the _presidio_, he began
shouting his orders. Torches flared, and men ran to prepare the horses.
Fifteen minutes later, with Gonzales at their head, they rode across
the plaza and out upon El Camino Real, their mounts snorting, their
sabers rattling.

From the crest of a slope a few hundred yards away, Barbados and his
evil crew watched them depart upon their mounts.




                             CHAPTER III.

                            SUDDEN TURMOIL.


While the blushes played across her cheeks, Señorita Lolita Pulido sat
at one end of the big table in the great living-room of her father’s
house and watched the final preparations for her wedding.

Don Carlos, her gray-haired father, watched proudly from the foot of
the table. Doña Catalina, her mother, walked majestically around the
room and gave soft commands. Native servants scurried like rats in and
out of the great room, carrying bundles of silks and satins, gowns,
intimate garments.

“To-morrow!” Don Carlos sighed, and in the sigh was that which spoke of
cruelties bravely borne. “To-morrow, _señorita_, you become the bride
of Don Diego Vega, and the first lady of Reina de Los Angeles. And my
troubles, let us hope, are at an end.”

“Let us hope so,” said Doña Catalina.

“The Governor himself dare not raise his hand against the father-in-law
of Don Diego Vega. My fortunes will increase again. And you, daughter
of my heart, will be a great lady, with wealth at your command.”

“And love also,” the little _señorita_ said, bowing her head.

“Love, also!” said Doña Catalina.

“Ha!” Don Carlos cried, with a gale of laughter. “It is love now, is
it? And when first Don Diego came wooing, the girl would have none of
him, even to better the family fortunes. He was dull, he yawned, and
she wanted a man of hot blood and romantic. But when it was learned
that he was Señor Zorro―― That made a difference! Love, also! It is
well!”

Señorita Lolita blushed again, and fumbled at a soft garment upon her
lap. There came a pounding at the door, and one of the servants opened
it. Don Carlos glanced up to find a man of the village there.

“It is a message, _señor_,” he said.

“From whom?” Don Carlos asked.

“From Don Diego Vega, to the little _señorita_.”

Señorita Lolita dimpled, and her black eyes flashed as she bent
over the heap of garments again. Don Carlos stood up and stalked
majestically toward the door.

“I take the message,” he said, and he took it, and handed it to Doña
Catalina, that she might read it first. “Don Diego Vega is not wed to
my daughter as yet. It is not proper that he send her sealed messages.”

His eyes were twinkling as he turned away. Señorita Lolita pouted and
pretended indifference, and Doña Catalina, her mother, unfolded the
message, and read it with a smile upon her lips.

“It is harmless,” she announced.

Señorita Lolita looked up, and took the message from her mother’s hand.
Don Diego Vega, it appeared, wasted no words. His message was read
swiftly:

    This man has orders to make a record carrying this greeting of
    love to you and fetching yours in return.

                               Thine,

                                                          DIEGO.

“Ha!” Don Carlos shouted. “Economy is a great thing, but not in words
when there is love to be spoken. You should have seen the messages I
sent to Catalina in the old days!”

“Carlos!” Doña Catalina warned.

“And paid a native wench royally to slip them to her,” Don Carlos
continued, shamelessly. “Behind the back of her _duenna_! Page after
page, and every word a labor! I could fight better than I could write!”

“Perhaps so can Don Diego,” the little _señorita_ said.

“Staunch and loyal to him, are you?” Don Carlos roared. “That is
proper. Pen your reply, my daughter, and let this man establish his
record for the return trip to Reina de Los Angeles. Do not keep Don
Diego waiting.”

The _señorita_ blushed yet again, got up, and swept into a room
adjoining.

Don Carlos addressed the messenger: “How are things in the town?”

“Don Diego entertains his _caballero_ friends at a last bachelor
supper, _señor_,” the man replied.

“Ha! Young men only, I suppose?”

“_Sí, señor!_”

“Wine flows, I take it, and the table is piled high with rich food?”

“_Sí, señor!_”

“Ah, well! I shall have my turn to-morrow at the marriage feast,” Don
Carlos said. “My regards to Don Diego Vega!”

“They shall be given him, _señor_.”

The _señorita_ returned and handed what she had written to her mother,
who perused it and sealed it, and handed it to the messenger in turn.
The man bobbed his head in respectful salute, and hurried out. A native
servant closed the door behind him――but neglected to drop the heavy bar
in place. Because of the unusual excitement, none noticed.

Don Carlos resumed his position at the foot of the table. This was a
great night for him, and to-morrow would be a great day. He was happy
because his fortunes were on the mend, because the Governor had been
forced to cease his persecutions. But he was happy also because his
daughter was to have happiness.

Don Carlos and his wife had lavished upon this, their only child, love
enough for a dozen. And now both glanced at her as she fumbled at a
silken shawl. Her black eyes were sparkling again, though dreams were
glistening in them. Her cheeks were delicately flushed. Her dainty
hands played with the silks. One tiny tip of a boot peeped from beneath
her voluminous skirts. A bride of whom any man could honestly be proud,
Don Carlos thought, and with proper blood in her veins and proper
thoughts in her head.

“So Don Diego makes merry to-night with his young friends!” Don Carlos
said. “I would like to peer in upon him now.”

Could he have done so, he would have seen a merry gathering. In the big
living-room of Don Diego’s town _casa_ a huge table had been spread.
Don Diego sat at the head of it, dressed in fastidious garments, and
_caballeros_ were grouped around it. Richly dressed they were, with
blades at their sides, blades with jeweled hilts, but serviceable
weapons for all that. Wine cups and dishes were before them. They
feasted, and they drank. They toasted Don Diego, and the Señorita
Lolita, Don Diego’s father, and the _señorita’s_ father, and one
another.

“Another good man gone wrong!” cried Don Audre Ruiz. He sat at Don
Diego’s right hand, because he was Don Diego’s closest friend. “Here is
our comrade, Don Diego, about to turn into a family man!” he continued.
“This scion of Old Spain, this delicate morsel of _caballero_ blood to
be gobbled up by the monster of matrimony! It is time to weep!”

“Into your wine cup!” Don Diego added.

“Ha!” Don Audre Ruiz cried. “But a few days ago, it seems, we rode
after him as though he had been the devil, rode hard upon his heels,
thinking that we were following some sort of renegade _caballero_
playing at highwayman. Señor Zorro, by the saints! We shouted praises
of him because for a time he took us out of our monotony. Then came the
unmasking, and we found that Don Diego and Señor Zorro were one and the
same!”

He ceased speaking long enough to empty his wine cup and make certain
that a servant refilled it.

“Señor Zorro!” he continued. “Those were happy moments! And now he is
to turn husband, and no more riding abroad with sword in hand. We shall
die of monotony, Diego, my friend!”

“Of fat!” Don Diego corrected.

“What has become of the wild blood that coursed your veins for a few
moons?” Don Audre Ruiz demanded. “Where are those precious, turbulent
drops that were in Zorro?”

“They linger,” Don Diego declared. “It needs but the cause to churn
them into active being.”

“Ha! A cause! _Caballeros_, let us find him a cause, that this good
friend of ours will be too busy to get married.”

“One moment!” Don Diego cried. He stood up and smiled at them, gave
a little twitch to his shoulders, and then turned his back upon the
brilliant company and hurried from the room. They drank again, and
waited. And after a time, back he came, a silk-draped bundle beneath
one arm.

“What mystery is this?” Don Audre demanded. He sprawled back in his
chair and prepared to laugh. It was said of Don Audre that he always
was prepared to laugh. He laughed when he made love, when he fought, as
he ate and drank, his bubbling spirit, always upon his lips.

“Here is no mystery,” Don Diego Vega declared. He smiled at them again,
unwrapped what he held, and suddenly exhibited a sword. “The blade of
Zorro!” he cried.

There was an instant of silence, and then every _caballero_ sprang
to his feet. Their own swords came flashing from their scabbards,
flashed on high, reflected in a million rays the glowing lights of the
candelabra.

“Zorro!” they shouted. “Zorro!”

“Good old blade!” Don Diego said, a whimsical smile playing about his
lips.

“Good old point!” exclaimed Don Audre Ruiz. “With it you marked many a
scoundrel with your mark, notably and especially one Captain Ramón. Why
do we endure his presence here in Reina de Los Angeles? Why not force
the Governor to send him north?”

“Let us not mar a perfect evening with thoughts of him,” Don Diego
begged. “_Caballeros_, I have brought this blade before you for a
purpose. We have drunk toasts to everything of which we could think,
and there still remains an abundance of rare wine that has not been
guzzled. A toast to the sword of Zorro!”

“Ha! A happy thought!” Don Audre Ruiz cried. “_Caballeros_, a toast to
the sword of Zorro!”

They drank it, put down their golden goblets, and sighed. They glanced
at one another, each thinking of the days when Señor Zorro had ruled El
Camino Real for a time. And then they dropped into their chairs once
more, and Don Diego Vega sat down also, the sword on the table before
him.

“It was a great game,” he said, and sighed himself. “But it is in the
past. Now I shall be a man of peace and quiet.”

“That remains to be seen,” Don Audre declared. “There may be domestic
warfare, you know. A man takes a terrible chance when he weds.”

“Nothing but peace and quiet,” Don Diego responded. “The sword of Zorro
is but a relic. Years from now I may look upon it and smile. It has
served its purpose.”

He yawned.

“By the saints!” Don Audre Ruiz breathed. “Did you see him? He yawned!
While yet the word ‘Zorro’ was upon his lips, he yawned. And this
is the man who defended persecuted priests and natives, defied the
soldiery and made the Governor do a dance! ’Tis a cause he wants and
needs, something to change him into Zorro again!”

“To-morrow I become a husband,” Don Diego answered him, yawning yet
once more and fumbling with a handkerchief. “By the way, _señores_,
have you ever seen this one?”

He spread the handkerchief over the wine goblet before him, and as the
_caballeros_ bent forward to watch, smiles upon their faces, he passed
one hand rapidly back and forth across the covered goblet with such
rapidity that it was hidden almost all the time, and with the other
hand he reached beneath the edge of the handkerchief and jerked the
goblet away, letting it drop to the floor. The handkerchief collapsed
on the table. Don Diego waved a hand languidly.

“See? It is gone!” he breathed.

“Bah!” Don Audre cried as the others laughed. “At your boy’s tricks
again, are you? Where is your wild blood now?”

“I am done with roistering and adventure.”

“A man never knows when his words may be hurled back at him and cause
him to look foolish,” said Don Audre. “It is foolish to take everything
for granted. For instance――”

He stopped. The sounds of a tumult had reached their ears. For a moment
they were silent, listening. Shouts, oaths, the sounds of blows, the
clashing of blades.

“What in the name of the saints is that?” Don Diego asked.

A trembling servant answered him.

“There are men fighting over by the inn, _señor_,” he said. “I heard
some one shout of pirates!”




                              CHAPTER IV.

                       FRAY FELIPE MAKES A VOW.


Barbados continued to mutter curses as he watched the sky. Not a
cloud marred its face, and the moon was at the full. But here was an
enterprise where there was small risk, so he could discount the bright
night.

He grunted his pleasure as he saw Sergeant Gonzales and the troopers
ride away from the _presidio_, cross the plaza, and continue toward the
south. He called Sanchez to him and explained what was to be done at
the _hacienda_ of Don Carlos Pulido.

“You will take half a dozen men,” Barbados commanded. “Do as you please
at the place, but capture the _señorita_ by all means, and go quickly
back over the hills to the mouth of the cañon. Steal horses, and ride.
Get there before the break of day! We shall do the same. The ship will
be putting in at dawn or before.”

“_Sí!_” Sanchez replied. “And do you care for my share of the loot
here. There may be small profit at the _hacienda_!”

Sanchez selected his ruffians and led them away around a hill and
toward the north, where the _hacienda_ of Don Carlos Pulido rested.
Barbados whispered instructions to the remainder of the crew. And then
they waited, for Barbados wished to make sure that the soldiers did not
return.

For more than an hour longer he waited, and then gave the word. Down
from the crest of the slope they slipped, breathing heavily, lusting
for illegal gain, holding their cutlasses in readiness for instant use.
They kept in the scant shadows as much as possible, scattered as they
crossed the wider light spaces, made their way slowly to the edge of
the town.

There, in the shadows cast by an empty adobe building, they separated,
and Barbados whispered his final instructions. They were to look for
rich loot, and nothing bulky. He had decided against food and wine,
bolts of cloth, casks of olives and jars of honey. Such things could be
obtained later at any _hacienda_. Just now he wished to get portable
valuables and hurry back to the coast.

Men were detailed to seize horses and have them in readiness. Certain
large houses were to be attacked in force after the smaller ones had
been disposed of. The inn was to receive special attention, since it
was whispered that the fat landlord had hidden wealth.

Down upon the town they crept, and suddenly they charged into the plaza
from either side. Into the inn they poured, cutting and slashing at
natives until they fled screeching with terror, stabbing at the fat
landlord as he called upon the saints.

They took what the landlord had, and gave their attention to the houses
and shops. And now bedlam broke loose as it was realized what was
taking place. Doors were smashed, terrified men and women were driven
from room to room. Things of value were seized. Jewels were ripped
from dainty throats and delicate fingers. Silken shawls were torn from
beautiful shoulders.

Here and there a man gave fight, but not for long. The pirates
outnumbered the citizens, because they traveled in force and the
citizens were scattered. Shrieks and screeches and cries stabbed the
air. Raucous oaths and fiendish laughter rang across the plaza. And
above the din roared the voice of Barbados, the human fiend, as he
ordered his men, commanded them, admonished them, led them to an easy
victory.

It was quick work, because the descent had been so unexpected. It might
have continued throughout the night, until the town was stripped bare,
until not a native’s hut was left standing. But Barbados wanted quick
loot and a get-away. He wanted to reach the coast during the bright
moonlight, get the planks of the ship’s deck beneath his feet once
more. He trusted Captain Ramón, but he feared that the soldiers might
return.

Across the plaza the pirates charged, with Barbados at their head. They
broke into the church. They filled the sacred edifice with oaths and
ribald jest and raucous laughter. They darted here and there, torches
held high above their heads, searching for articles of worth.

From a little room to one side stepped a _fray_. His hair was silver,
his face was calm. Erect and purposeful he stood, looking across at
them. Quick steps forward he took toward the altar, where there were
relics he loved.

“What do you here, _señores_?” he demanded.

His voice seemed soft, yet at the same time there was the ring of steel
in it. They stopped, their shouting ceased, there was a moment of
silence.

“Who are you?” one shouted.

“I am called Fray Felipe, _señores_,” came the response. “Just now I am
in charge of this house of worship. How is it that you so far forget
yourselves as to bring your tumult here?”

“_Fray?_” one shouted. “Fool and _fray_? Why do we bring our tumult
here? For to get loot, gowned one!”

“Loot?” Fray Felipe thundered, taking another step forward. “You would
profane this house? You would lay sacrilegious hands on what is to be
found here, even as you have voiced sacrilegious tones within these
walls? Scum of the earth, begone!”

They surged toward him. “One side, _fray_!” shouted a foremost one.
“Respect the black flag and we respect your gown!”

“Spawn of hell! Sons of the devil!” Fray Felipe thundered. “Back to the
door, and out of this holy place!”

He scarcely hoped to stop them. There were rich ornaments on the altar,
and in the uncertain light the torches shed he could see the eyes of
those nearest glittering. And the gem-studded goblet was there!

Thought of the gem-studded goblet gave new strength to ancient Fray
Felipe. It was a relic highly prized. Fray Felipe loved it, and cared
for it tenderly. There was a legend connected with it. Once it had been
touched by a saint’s lips, men had said. To have this scum as much as
touch the sacred goblet was too much――to have them steal it would be
unthinkable.

Once more they surged forward, and Fray Felipe sprang before the altar
and threw up his hands in a gesture of command.

“Back!” he cried. “Would you damn beyond recovery your immortal souls?
Would you commit the unpardonable sin?”

“Ha!” shouted a man in the front of the throng. “Worry not about our
souls, _fray_! One side, else you’ll have a chance to worry about the
state of your own! We have scant time to spend on a _fray_!”

“What would you?” Fray Felipe asked.

“Loot, fool of a _fray_!”

“Only over my dead body do you take it! I am not afraid to die to
protect holy things! But you――you will fear to die, if you do this
thing!”

“Slit his throat!” cried one in the throng. “Are we here to argue? The
work is not done!”

Once more they surged forward. The light of the torches sent rays of
fire shooting from the ornaments on the altar. Their lust for loot
consumed them.

Fray Felipe braced himself, seized the nearest, raised him half from
the floor, and hurled him back against his fellows.

“The _fray_ shows fight!” one cried. “Use your knives, you in the
front! A stab between the ribs, and let us go!”

Again they rushed, and Fray Felipe prepared for one more feeble
attempt, the one he deemed would be the last. He made the sign of the
cross and waited calmly――waited until they were upon him, until he
could feel their hot breathing upon his face, until the stench of their
perspiration was in his nostrils.

But, even as a man raised a cutlass to strike, there came an
interruption. The bellowing voice of Barbados rang out above the din.

“Stop!” he shrieked. There was something terrifying in the sudden and
unexpected command. The pirates stopped, fell back. Barbados charged
through them and to Fray Felipe’s side. The pirate’s face showed white
in the light of the torches.

“Back!” he commanded. “This _fray_ is not to be harmed! Out, fools and
devils! There is one rich house yet to be robbed. Let us not tarry
here!”

“There is loot――” one began.

He did not complete the sentence. Barbados whirled, and with a single
blow he stretched him senseless.

“Out!” he commanded. “This _fray_ is not to be touched!”

They backed away from him, rushed back to gather near the door. They
did not pretend to understand this, but Barbados was chief, and perhaps
he knew what he was doing. They saw him turn, knew that he spoke to the
_fray_, but could not make out his words.

“I had no doing in this,” Barbados said. “I assault no _fray_ nor
priest! I stopped them in time. Had I not remained outside a moment to
watch affairs I would have stopped them before.”

“You are not wholly bad,” Fray Felipe said.

“I am wholly bad, _fray_――make no mistake about it! But I keep my hands
off _frailes_ and priests!”

He whirled around and rushed to the door, shrieking at his men. Only
the soft light of the candles glowed in the church.

Fray Felipe took a step forward and looked after them. He turned back
toward the altar, a look of thankfulness in his face.

And suddenly that look changed! Misery took its place. Fray Felipe gave
a little cry of mingled surprise and pain, and tottered forward. The
precious gem-studded goblet was gone!

He sensed at once how it had happened. When they had charged upon him,
before Barbados came, one of the pirates had snatched the goblet away.

Fray Felipe whirled toward the door again, took half a dozen steps,
seemed at the point of rushing after them. But he knew they were on
the other side of the plaza now, and that an appeal to them would be
useless. However, he could try.

He faced the altar again, and the expression of his old countenance was
wonderful to see. And then and there Fray Felipe took a vow.

“I go!” he said. “I return with the saintly goblet, or do not return at
all!”




                              CHAPTER V.

                        ZORRO TAKES THE TRAIL.


Barbados had saved the _casa_ of Don Diego Vega for the last. He had
kept an eye upon it, however, while his men were looting the town,
but had seen nothing to indicate danger from that quarter. And now he
remembered Captain Ramón’s commands, and it pleased him to carry them
out.

Don Diego’s was the finest house in the village, and seemed to promise
rich loot. Barbados placed four of his men outside to guard against the
unexpected return of the soldiers, and led the remainder straight to
the front door.

They hesitated there for a moment, gathered closely together, then
Barbados gave the word, and they rushed through the door and hurled
themselves inside, to go sprawling over the rich rugs and carpets and
stop in astonishment and confusion. Barbados swore a great oath as he
strove to maintain his balance.

Before them was a wonderful room lavishly furnished. To one side
was a wide stairway that led to the upper regions of the house, and
priceless tapestries were hanging from a mezzanine. But what engaged
the attention of Barbados and his crew the most was the big table in
the middle of the room and some score of richly dressed _caballeros_
sitting around it.

Here was the unexpected, which Barbados always feared. He came to a
stop, thrust forward his head, and his little eyes began glittering.
The soldiers were gone from the town, but here were a score of young
_caballeros_ who were fully as good as soldiers in a fight, and who
loved fighting. Barbados had seen such young blades handle swords and
rapiers before.

The entrance of the pirates had followed closely upon the announcement
of their presence in the town to Don Diego by the servant. And when
they tumbled through the door, showing their evil faces in the strong
light, the _caballeros_ struggled to get to their feet, reaching for
their blades, the smiles swept from their faces and expressions of grim
determination showing there instead. But the calm voice of Don Diego
quieted them.

“Ha!” Don Diego said. “What have we here? _Señores_, it is the night
before my wedding, and most persons are welcome to partake of my
hospitality. But this happens to be a select gathering of my close
friends, and I really cannot remember of having sent you invitations.”

“Have done!” Barbados bellowed, his voice ringing with a courage he
scarcely felt. “Have done, fashionable fop! We are men who sail under
the black flag, terrible alike on land and sea!”

Don Diego Vega threw back his head and laughed lightly.

“Did you hear that, Audre, my friend?” he asked Ruiz. “This fellow says
that he and his comrades are terrible alike on land and sea.”

Don Audre entered into the spirit of the occasion, as he always did.
“Diego, I did not know that you were such a wit,” he said. “Have you
hired these fellows to come here and give us a fright? Ha! It is a
merry jest, one that I’ll remember to my last day! For a moment I was
ready to draw blade.”

“Jest, is it?” Barbados cried, lurching forward almost to the foot of
the table. “’Twill be considered no jest when we have stripped you of
your jewels and plaything swords and this house of what valuables it
contains! Back up against that wall, _señores_, and the man who makes a
rash move will not live to make another!”

“I have made a multitude of rash moves, and I still live,” Don Audre
Ruiz told him. “Diego, it is indeed an excellent jest! I give you my
thanks!”

“Pirates!” Don Diego said, laughing again. “In reality, I did not hire
them to come here and furnish us with this entertainment. But since
they have been so kind, it is no more than right that I pay them!”
He sprang to his feet, bent forward with his hands upon the table,
and glared down the length of it at Barbados. “You are the chief bull
pirate?” he asked.

“I am the king of the crew!” Barbados replied. “Back against that wall,
you and your friends!”

Don Diego Vega laughed lightly again. And then the laughter fled his
face, and his eyes narrowed and seemed to send forth flakes of steel.

“_Sí!_ You must be paid!” he said. “But there are many ways of making
payment!”

The sword of Señor Zorro was beneath his hands. And suddenly it was out
of its scabbard, and he had sprung upon the table and had dashed down
the full length of it, scattering goblets and plates, drink and food.

Off the other end he sprang, and struck the floor a few feet in front
of Barbados, who had recoiled and was struggling to get his cutlass out
of his belt. The sword of Zorro flashed through the air, describing a
gleaming arc.

“Pirate, eh?” Don Diego Vega cried. “You have come to collect riches,
have you, Señor Pirate?”

“What is to prevent?” Barbados sneered. “You and your pretty toy of a
sword?”

“Ha! You insult a good blade!” Don Diego cried. “The insult shall not
go unpunished! Look you here!”

Don Diego Vega whirled suddenly to one side, his sword seemed to flash
fire, and its point bit into a panel of the wall once, twice, thrice!
Barbados looked on in amazement, his lower jaw sagging. His little eyes
bulged, and he looked again. Scratched on the panel of the wall was a Z.

“That mark!” the pirate gasped. “You are Zorro! That mark――the same the
_commandante_ wears on his forehead――”

Don Diego had whirled to face him again. “How know you there is such
a mark on the forehead of Captain Ramón?” he demanded. “So! The
_commandante_ deals with pirates, does he? That is how it happens that
my friend, Sergeant Gonzales, and his soldiers are not here! Ha!”

Barbados blustered forward, his cutlass held ready, striving to
regain the mastery of the situation. “Give us loot, or we attack!” he
thundered.

“Attack, fool?” Don Diego cried. “Do you imagine that you hold the
upper hand here? Up with your blade!”

The last thing Barbados wished to do was to fight a _caballero_
under such circumstances. He had the fear of the mongrel for the
thoroughbred. But here was a thing that could not be avoided unless his
leadership of the pirates suffer.

The _caballeros_ sprang from their chairs, drawing their swords,
shouting in keen anticipation of a break in the deadly monotony of
their lives. They rushed to the right and the left, and engaged the
pirates as they rushed forward. Don Diego Vega found himself at liberty
to engage Barbados only, a thing he relished and which he did with
right good will.

Barbados fought like a fiend, mouthing curses, puffing out his cheeks,
but he did not understand this style of fighting. Don Diego Vega
seemed to be wielding half a dozen blades that sang about his head and
threatened to bury themselves in his throat. His cutlass seemed heavy,
useless, his strokes went wild.

Back toward the wall went Barbados, while Don Diego grinned at him and
taunted him, played with him as a cat does with a mouse.

“Pirate, eh?” Don Diego said. “Terrible on either land or sea? ’Tis a
jest, Señor Pirate! A thin jest!”

Barbados sensed that the termination of this combat was not to be to
his liking. He got a chance to glance once around the big room. What
he saw staggered him. Two of the _caballeros_ were stretched on the
floor, blood flowing from their wounds. But, aside from those two, the
_caballeros_ were getting much the better of the combat. The pirates
were retreating toward the front door. Their heavy cutlasses were of no
avail against flaming, darting light swords, especially when the men
who handled those swords refused to stand and be cut down, but danced
here and there like phantoms.

But Barbados did not have time to contemplate the scene long. Don Diego
Vega pressed his attack. Back against the wall went the pirate chief.
He crouched, fought his best. But suddenly he felt a twinge of pain in
his wrist, and his cutlass left his hand and shot through the air, to
fall with a crash in a corner.

Barbados stared stupidly before him and then came alive to his
immediate peril. For Don Diego Vega was standing before him, smiling a
smile that was not good to see.

“Payment shall be made!” Don Diego said.

His blade darted up and forward, and Barbados gave a little cry of
pain and fear and recoiled. On his forehead, it seemed, was a streak
of fire. Again the sword of Zorro darted forth, and there was a second
streak of fire, and yet a third time. And then Don Diego Vega took a
step backward and bowed mockingly.

“You wear my brand,” he said. “It is an honor.”

Terror had claimed Barbados for the moment. Now he slipped a short
distance along the wall, while Diego followed him, and suddenly he
shrieked his commands and darted toward the door. Into the plaza
tumbled the pirates, with the _caballeros_ at their heels.

Barbados shrieked more commands, and the pirates ran with what speed
they had. Those left behind in the plaza gathered the horses they
needed and the loot, and those coming from the _casa_ of Don Diego
rushed toward the horses now. For the greater part, those horses were
fine-blooded stock and belonged to Don Diego’s guests, mounts used to
traveling at a rapid rate of speed between some _hacienda_ and the town.

Barbados urged his men to haste. Only compact loot could be carried.
They sprang to the backs of the horses and dashed away. The _caballeros_
pursued on foot until the plaza had been crossed. And then they stopped
and gathered around Don Diego.

“There can be no pursuit,” Diego said. “They have made away with your
horses, my friends, the soldiers are not here, and the only mounts
remaining in town are not fit for _caballeros_ to ride.”

“Yet they must be pursued,” said a voice at his side.

Don Diego whirled to find ancient Fray Felipe standing there.

“They have stolen the sacred goblet,” Fray Felipe said in a calm voice.
“I have taken a vow to regain it.”

“The goblet!” Diego gasped.

“Don Diego, my friend, you will help me in this?” Fray Felipe asked. “I
have known you since you were a babe in arms. I have loved you――”

“To-morrow I wed,” Don Diego said. “But I shall do everything in my
power. We’ll get horses as soon as possible and pursue. I’ll open my
purse, and up and down El Camino Real men will go, seeking where these
pirates touch shore again. We’ll get the goblet!”

“I have more faith in your sword arm than in your purse, my friend,”
Fray Felipe said. “But do what you can.”

The _caballeros_ had gathered now. Men and women were pouring from the
houses, telling of what had befallen them. Barbados and his men had
been merciful, for pirates. They had taken wealth, but they had taken
few lives.

Don Diego Vega started back across the plaza toward his house, his
friends around him.

“For a moment I was Señor Zorro again,” he said. “Those drops of blood
you mentioned grew hot for a time, Audre, my friend.”

“Glorious!” Audre Ruiz breathed. “I would we had horses and could
follow them――even a ship to follow them out to sea. Don Diego, my
friend, your bachelor supper is a great success.”

“Then let us return and conclude it,” Don Diego said. “We have a couple
of wounded friends in the house. Let us attend them.”

“Let us bathe their wounds in wine,” Audre suggested.

They hurried into the house. The frightened servants came forward again
and began putting things to rights. The two wounded _caballeros_ were
in chairs already, and men working to bandage them. Once more Don Diego
sat at the head of the table, and the _caballeros_ dropped into their
chairs, and the servants made haste to fill the goblets. Don Diego put
the sword of Zorro on the table before him and proposed that they toast
it again.

There came a sudden commotion at the door, and a man stumbled in. Don
Diego was on his feet instantly, for he knew the man. He was a leading
workman at the _hacienda_ of Don Carlos Pulido. A horrible fear gripped
Don Diego’s heart.

The man was exhausted. He staggered forward, and would have fallen had
not Diego grasped him and braced him against a corner of the table.

“_Señor!_” he gasped. “Don Diego――young master!”

“Speak!” Diego commanded.

“Pirates attacked the _hacienda_ more than an hour ago, while others
were attacking here――”

“Tell it quickly!”

“Don Carlos is sorely wounded, _señor_! Many of the buildings are
burned. The house was looted!”

“The _señorita_?” Don Diego questioned.

“Do not strike me when I speak, young master!”

“Speak!”

“They carried away the _señorita_. They slew six who would have saved
her――”

“Carried her away!” Don Diego cried.

“Toward the sea,” the man gasped. “I heard one of the pirates shout
that she was to be treated gently――that she was to be the prize of some
great man――”

Don Diego Vega tossed him aside, and once more the blade of Zorro was
in his hand. His friends were upon their feet and crowding forward.

“A rescue!” Don Audre Ruiz cried. “We must save the _señorita_!”

“They have stolen the bride of Don Diego, the fools!” another shouted.

“Worse than that, for them!” Audre screeched. “They have stolen the
bride of Señor Zorro!”

Don Diego Vega seemed to recover from the shock.

“You are right, my friends!” he cried. “This is touch enough to turn my
blood hot again. Don Diego Vega is dead for a time; Señor Zorro takes
the trail! Audre, get me the best horse you can! You others, wait!”

He dashed up the stairs as Audre hurried through the front door. The
others waited, talking wildly of plans for reaching the shore of the
sea. Frightened servants stood about as though speechless.

In a short space of time Don Diego returned to them. But he was Don
Diego no longer. Now he wore the costume he had worn when as Señor
Zorro he had ridden up and down the length of El Camino Real. And in
his face was a light that was not good to see.

Don Audre hurried in. “I’ve got one good horse,” he said.

“I go!” Don Diego cried. “I follow them to the sea. The two forces will
meet there.”

“We are with you in this!” Don Audre cried. “With you as when you were
Zorro before. With you, my friend, until we have the little _señorita_
safe again!”

Their naked blades flashed overhead in token of allegiance.

Don Diego thanked them with a look.

“Then follow me to the sea!” he cried. “A trading ship is due there in
the morning. Mayhap we’ll have to take it and trace them across the
waves. I go! Zorro takes the trail!”

He dashed to the door, the others following. He sprang into the saddle
of the mount Don Audre had procured. He drove home the spurs cruelly,
and rode like a demon through the bright moonlight and up the slope,
then taking the shortest trail to the sea.




                              CHAPTER VI.

                            ZORRO STRIKES.


At the _hacienda_ of Don Carlos Pulido the outer door was opened
slowly, stealthily. A villainous face showed. Then the door was thrown
open wide and half a dozen men stormed into the room. Doña Catalina
gave a shriek of fear and sprang backward, and as the little _señorita_
rushed to her, clasped her in her arms. Don Carlos looked up quickly
from a garment he had been inspecting and sprang to his feet.

“Pirates!” he roared.

The aged don seemed to renew his youth with the cry. He darted back
against the wall, shrieking for his servants and his men, his hand
darting to the blade that happened to be at his side. But the surprise
was complete, and there was no hope of a victory over the pirate crew.
Servants rushed in loyally, to be cut down. Doña Catalina and Lolita
crouched in a corner, the aged don standing protectingly before them.

Sanchez made for him, seeing the girl. The pirate laughed, attacked
like a fiend, and Don Carlos went down before he could give a wound.

Doña Catalina’s shriek rang in his ears. Then there came another shriek
as Señorita Lolita felt herself being torn from her mother’s arms.
Sanchez whirled her behind him, and another of the pirates clutched her
in his arms.

“Easy with the wench!” Sanchez cried. “She is to be saved for some
great man!”

The little _señorita_ struggled and fought, her gentleness gone in the
face of this emergency. Horror claimed her and almost destroyed her
reason. She had heard whispered wild tales of what happened to women
captured by pirates.

Out of the house she was carried, shrieking in her fear. The pirates
poured out, too. Some of the outbuildings were ablaze now, and the
shrieking, swearing crew was looting the house for what valuables could
be carried easily.

Men of the _hacienda_ came running, to be cut down with a laugh. More
huts were set ablaze. Pirates came running from the house, carrying
jewels, silks, satins. Señorita Lolita realized dimly that her wedding
garments had been ruined by these men.

“Diego!” she moaned. “Diego!”

Horses were procured, her father’s blooded stock, and she was lashed to
the back of one. The pirates mounted others, and Sanchez urged them on
their way toward the distant sea. He had orders to get there before the
dawn, and he feared Barbados too much to disobey his orders.

Señorita Lolita glanced back once, to see flames pouring from the doors
and windows of the home she had loved. She thought of the father she
had seen cut down, of her tender mother. And then she slumped forward
in a swoon, and Sanchez steadied her in the saddle.

Two men of the _hacienda_ carried Don Carlos Pulido from his burning
home and placed him down at a distance beneath a tree. Doña Catalina
knelt beside him, weeping.

“Find a horse!” the aged don commanded one of the men. “Ride like a
fiend to the town, and tell Don Diego Vega of this. As you love the
_señorita_, spare neither yourself nor your mount! Ride――do not bother
with me!”

And so the man found a horse and rode away toward the town, going like
the wind, and so the news came to Don Diego Vega.

The _señorita_, coming from her swoon, found that the pirates were
traveling at a high rate of speed. Mile by mile they cut down the
distance to the sea. There was an excellent trail used by traders, and
Sanchez followed it swiftly.

It was like a nightmare to the little _señorita_. Again she wondered at
the fate of her father and her mother. Again, mentally, she called upon
Don Diego Vega to save her.

But her proud blood had returned to her now. She curled her pretty lips
in scorn when Sanchez addressed her, and would make no reply. Her eyes
snapped and flashed as she contemplated him. Her tiny chin tilted at an
insulting angle. She was a Pulido, and she remembered it. Whatever fate
held in store for her, she would be a Pulido to the end.

And finally, after some hours, they rounded a bend of a hill and saw
the sea ahead of them, and the mouth of the dark cañon that ran down
into it. Sanchez dismounted them beside the curving cliff. The loot
was piled on the sand, the horses were turned adrift. Señorita Lolita
was forced to dismount. Her wrists were lashed behind her, and she was
compelled to sit on the ground with her back to the cliff’s wall.

Some of the pirates lighted a fire of driftwood. Sanchez stood looking
out to sea, watching for the ship that soon would be due.

And then came Barbados and the pirates from the town.

“Fair loot!” Barbados cried as Sanchez questioned. “But we were
outdone. Some devilish _caballeros_ were having a supper, and we
stumbled upon them, twice our number. But we have fair loot! And you
have the girl!”

“_Sí!_ We have the girl!” Sanchez replied.

Barbados walked over to her. “A pretty wench!” he declared. “Small
wonder a man wished to have you stolen! Proud, are you? Ha! We’ll see
what pride you have remaining by the end of the next moon!”

He whirled to look over the camp. “Sanchez,” he commanded, “put a
sentinel up on top of the cliff. I do not expect pursuit, but it is
best to be prepared. I ran across that fiend of a Zorro, and he marked
me. But there are not horses enough left in town for himself and his
friends, and he would not dare follow alone. Nevertheless, put a
sentinel on the cliff.”

Sanchez obeyed. A man mounted to the top. On the level stretch of sand
before them they could see his shadow in the moonlight as he paced
slowly back and forth. Back and forth he went, while Señorita Lolita
sat and watched the shadow and shivered to think of what was to come.

Barbados and Sanchez prepared the loot for the ship’s boats when they
should come. There was an abundance of wine, and the pirates began
drinking it. They shouted and laughed and sang, while the little
_señorita_ shuddered and watched the shadow of the sentinel as it went
back and forth, back and forth.

And suddenly she bent forward, for there were two shadows now. Hope
sang in her breast. One of the shadows was creeping upon the other.

“Diego!” she breathed. “If it could only be Diego!”

The moon was dropping, was at the point where the shadows were
lengthened, grotesque. And suddenly Sanchez gave a cry and pointed
to the stretch of sand. Barbados turned to look. The pirates stopped
drinking and crowded forward.

There on the sandy stretch a picture was being enacted. They saw the
silhouettes of two men fighting, thrusting and slashing at each other.
From above came the ringing of blades that met with violence.

The pirates sprang back, tried to look up and ascertain what was taking
place there. The shadows disappeared from the sand for a time as the
combatants reeled back from the edge of the cliff.

“Above, some of you!” Barbados cried.

They started――and stopped. Down the face of the cliff came tumbling the
body of the pirate sentinel. It struck the sand, and Barbados and the
others crowded forward to see.

“By the saints!” Barbados swore.

His little eyes bulged. On the cheek of the dead pirate sentinel was a
freshly-carved Z.

“Barbados! Look!” Sanchez cried.

He pointed to the body. Fastened to the man’s belt with a thorn was a
scrap of parchment.

Barbados went forward gingerly and plucked it off. On it were words,
evidently traced in blood with the point of a blade. Barbados read them
swiftly:

    _Señores!_ Have you ever seen this one?




                             CHAPTER VII.

                         SEÑOR ZORRO’S DARING.


There was a moment of horrified silence, during which nothing was
heard save the soft lap of the sea against the shore and the labored
breathing of the terrified pirates. And then Barbados swore a great
oath and looked toward the summit of the cliff once more.

“’Tis that cursed Señor Zorro, the land pirate!” he shrieked. “Spit
upon him! After him, dogs! Bring me his heart on the end of a cutlass
blade! Or fetch him alive, if you can, that we may have the keen
pleasure of killing him slowly.”

Some of the pirates already were struggling to get up the narrow path
that led to the top of the cliff, slipping and falling back as the soft
soil and gravel rolled beneath their feet.

Sanchez started with them, eager for combat. Barbados, however,
lingered behind, seeing to the loot and his fair prisoner. He was very
busy about it, for he was not eager to join the others and run chances
of matching blades with Señor Zorro again.

Barbados remembered well how he had felt during the fight in the house
of Don Diego in Reina de Los Angeles, when he had realized fully that
Don Diego was merely playing with him and could have silenced him
forever when he willed.

The pirates reached the summit finally, but could see nothing there
save a few clumps of brush and a few stunted trees that looked
grotesque in the bright light of the moon. They examined the shadows
carefully, but located no man. Yet from the near distance came a
ringing, a mocking laugh.

They would have pursued, but Barbados hailed them from below, ordering
them down to the beach again. The boats were putting in from the ship.

Down to the strand they tumbled, getting ready to store away their
loot. They did not bother about the dead pirate, since he was an
ordinary fellow who did not count. They guzzled more wine, ran down
into the surf to help drag the boats ashore, greeted their fellows,
laughed and shouted and jested and cursed in raucous tones.

Barbados turned to where the Señorita Lolita was sitting with her back
against the cliff wall, her tiny wrists lashed behind her. She raised
her face and looked at him bravely, her black eyes snapping, her lips
curled in scorn.

“This Señor Zorro, I have been given to understand, has some concern in
you,” Barbados said.

“If he has, Señor Pirate, it is time for you to feel afraid,” she
replied.

“Think you that I fear the fellow? Ha!”

“He is no fellow! He is a _caballero_ with the best of blood flowing
in his veins, if you can understand what that means――you, who have the
blood of swine in yours!”

“By my naked blade!” Barbados swore. “Were you not to be saved for a
great man, I’d punish you well for that remark, proud one! Pride of
blood, eh? Ha! ’Tis a thing you will be willing to forget, and eager,
within a moon’s time. When this man of whom I speak――”

“Is it necessary to speak at all to me?” the little _señorita_ wanted
to know.

Barbados snorted his anger and disgust. For a moment he turned away to
issue a volley of commands to the men who were loading the boats. He
berated Sanchez for being slow. He glanced up the face of the cliff
once more, as though expecting Señor Zorro to come rushing down, deadly
sword in hand. Presently he called two of his men to him.

“Take the wench to one of the boats!” he commanded. “Keep her wrists
lashed. Make certain that she does not hurl herself into the sea. These
high-born wenches have some queer ideas and are not to be trusted at a
time such as this.”

The two men grasped her roughly and forced her to her feet. The
_señorita_ gave a little cry, more because of her injured dignity than
from pain or fear. Barbados whirled toward them again, anger in his
face.

“Easy with the wench!” he commanded. “She is a proper and valuable
share of the loot. If she is delivered in good condition then do we
share greater in the other things.”

Down to the edge of the hissing surf they went, Señorita Lolita Pulido
forced along between them. She still held her head proudly, but the
light of the dying fire reflected in her face showed a trace of
glistening tears that could not be choked back. Still, she had some
hope. Don Diego was near at hand! He already had demonstrated his
presence. And he would not entirely desert her while he lived. He could
be expected to play Señor Zorro now to the end of the chapter.

They lifted her, carried her between them, and put her down into one
of the boats. She sat at one side of a middle seat, a wide thwart. Her
bound wrists were over the side, and by turning slightly she could
see the tossing water less than two feet below her, for the craft was
heavily loaded.

The pirates tumbled into the boat and picked up the oars. One thrust
her cruelly against the side. Barbados himself sprang in last of all
and ordered his men to give way. The other boats prepared for the start
also.

On the summit of the cliff Don Diego Vega crouched and watched them.
But he was not the easy-going, fashionable, nonchalant Don Diego now.
His eyes were narrowed and piercing. His lips were set in a thin,
straight line. Don Diego had vanished, and in his place was Señor
Zorro, the Fox, the man who had ridden up and down El Camino Real to
avenge the wrongs of _frailes_ and natives. And Señor Zorro would know
how to deal with this grievous wrong, which touched him personally.

The pirate craft was anchored close inshore. It would not take long for
the boats to reach her. The moon was sinking and soon would be gone.
There would be but a brief period of darkness before the dawn came
stealing across the land to the sea.

His _caballero_ friends were far behind him, he knew. And they would
make for the trading schooner anchored a few miles away, perhaps,
instead of coming here. And Señorita Lolita Pulido was in the hands of
the pirates, and expected to be rescued.

Señor Zorro realized these things even as he watched the pirates
preparing to launch their boats. It did not take him long to make a
decision. He crawled backward a short distance, sprang to his feet, and
ran to the edge of the cliff in a little cove a few yards away, a spot
the pirates could not see from their boats.

He made certain that his sword was fast in its scabbard. He tightened
his belt. He went to the edge and glanced down at the hissing sea a
score of feet below, where it rolled and eddied in a deep pool close to
the rocks.

Back he went again. And suddenly he darted forward, took off at the
very edge, and curved gracefully through the moonlight in a perfect
dive.

He struck the water and disappeared, but in a moment he was at the
surface and swimming away from the treacherous shore. And he found that
it was treacherous and the tide an enemy. It pulled at him to drag him
down. He fought and struggled against it, and finally won to safety.

The boats were just starting from the land. Señor Zorro, low in the
water, swam as though in a contest for a prize, straight toward the
nearest of the boats, which was the one in which the _señorita_ was
sitting a captive.

Señorita Lolita was struggling now to be brave. The pirates were
singing their ribald songs and indulging in questionable jests. They
swore as they tugged at the oars, cursed the heavy load of loot, and
blasphemed because of the work they were forced to do.

The _señorita_, remembering her proud blood, had tried to maintain her
courage, but now she felt it ebbing swiftly. There seemed to be no
hope. She could not believe that Don Diego could come to her rescue
in the face of such terrible odds. Once she gulped and felt herself
near to tears. She leaned backward to keep as far as possible from the
pirate sitting beside her. The stench of his body and breath was almost
more than she could endure.

Now they were halfway to the pirate ship. Lolita had arrived at a
decision. She would be no prey for pirates if she could find at hand
the means for taking her own life. She remembered what Barbados had
said about her being the prize of some great man, and wondered at
it a bit. But suppressed terror occupied her mind and kept her from
wondering much. Again she leaned backward, and her bound hands almost
touched the water over the side.

The pirates, nearing exhaustion, were rowing slowly now, sweeping their
long oars in unison but without their usual force. And suddenly the
Señorita Lolita flinched, and almost cried aloud, then struggled to
overcome the shock she had felt. Her hands had been touched.

At first she thought it was some monster of the sea, and then that a
cold wave had washed them. But the touch came again, and she knew it
for what it was――the touch of another hand.

Another touch――and her cheeks flamed scarlet. The _señorita_ had had
her hands kissed before, and she knew a kiss when she felt it.

She turned her head slowly, leaning outward, and glanced down. And her
heart almost stood still.

For Señor Zorro was there, his face showing just at the surface of the
water! Don Diego, her husband-to-be, was there, swimming alongside,
smiling up at her, within a few feet of the pirates who bent their
backs and rowed and never thought to look down.

Fear clutched at the _señorita’s_ heart for an instant――fear for
him――yet admiration for his daring, too. Her blood seemed suddenly hot
instead of cold. The touch of his lips had been enough to do that.

He dared not speak, of course, though the pirates were shouting and
singing. But his lips moved and formed voiceless words, and the
_señorita_ understood.

“Courage! I’ll be near!” he mouthed.

She nodded her head slightly in token that she understood. And Don
Diego Vega smiled yet again and sank slowly out of sight beneath the
waves.

The boats were almost to the vessel now. The bright moon shipped a last
ray across the tumbling sea and sank to rest. On the deck of the pirate
craft torches flared suddenly to guide the boats.

They reached the side. Rough hands lifted the _señorita_ and forced
her to the deck above. Swearing, sweating men commenced handing up the
loot. Barbados howled his commands and curses, Sanchez echoing them. To
one side the _señorita_ was held by the two men who had guarded her on
the shore, awaiting disposition by the pirate chief.

“With speed, dogs!” Barbados shrieked. “We must be away before the
dawn!”

The entire crew was working amidships, getting in the plunder and the
boats. They gave no thought to bow or stern.

And up the anchor chain and into the bow crept a dripping figure, with
a cry for vengeance in his heart――and the sword of Zorro at his side!




       [Illustration: The Further Adventures of Zorro, Part II]




                             CHAPTER VIII.

                              THE GOBLET.


Señorita Lolita Pulido, after a time, was conducted by Barbados to a
tiny cabin below decks. It was no more than eight feet square, and
had a bunk along one side of it. Certainly, it was no place for a
delicately-reared lady of gentle blood.

It was far from being clean, in the first instance. Vermin that meant
nothing to pirates caused the _señorita_ to shudder and almost scream.
Even as she entered, two huge rats scampered through a hole in the
cabin floor, rushed down into the bowels of the ship.

“’Tis no palace,” Barbados admitted. “I’ll leave the torch so you may
have light until the day dawns, which will not be long. The torch will
keep the rats away. The smoke will drift through that open porthole.
You will be safe here. There are no weapons, and even such a small
and dainty tender human being as yourself cannot squeeze through that
porthole and drop into the open sea!”

The _señorita_ had no reply for him. She tilted her chin again, tried
to hum a little song, and glanced around the tiny place. Barbados grew
surly.

“Too good to speak to me, are you, proud one?” he sneered. “You may
have another tune to chant before many days, after you have met the man
for whom you were stolen. Is there anything you want or need?”

The _señorita’s_ face flushed, but she faced him bravely. “I want your
absence――and deeply feel the need of it!” she replied.

“By my naked blade! Were it not that you are to be handed over to
another, I’d take it upon myself to tame you!” Barbados declared. “Ha!
Deliver me from proud wenches with their noses in the air!”

He fastened the smoking torch to a wall, went out and slammed the door
behind him, and Señorita Lolita heard a heavy bar being dropped into
place. For a moment she stood in the middle of the cabin, her hands
clutching spasmodically at her breast, and then she went over to the
bunk, inspected it, and finally crawled upon it and sat cross-legged,
staring at the opposite wall.

The ship was old, the floor worn and full of holes, and the walls
had cracks in them. From one side came a stench, as though supplies
had been stored in the space adjoining, and had spoiled. Through the
porthole she could see the black night.

The horror of her situation was heavily upon her now. She seemed to
fully realize her predicament for the first time. She remembered again
how she had seen her father cut down, and her home in flames. She
wondered how it fared with her parents, and she wondered, too, what was
to be in the future.

The only ray of hope was that Don Diego was near, that Señor Zorro had
promised to give her aid, and that his sword would protect her. And yet
how could he――one man against scores of scoundrels? Don Diego, even
as Señor Zorro, was only human, after all. Yet she hoped that, at the
climax, he would reveal himself. He was a _caballero_, and he would
know what to do in an emergency. Better that Señor Zorro drive his
blade through her heart than for her to live stained!

She heard a tumult on the deck, a great noise, the sounds of clanking
chains, and knew from the feel of the ship that she was under sail.
Above her head feet pattered on the deck. The great voice of Barbados
and the echoing one of Sanchez came to her as from a long distance. The
rushing wind pulled the smoke of the torch through the open porthole.

The _señorita_ sighed and leaned her head against the wall of the
cabin. Tears trickled from her eyes and started coursing down her
cheeks, but she wiped them away swiftly. None of these pirates should
see her cry! Never would they be able to say that one of the blood of
the Pulidos had shown fear!

She closed her eyes for an instant, as though that would shut out the
horror of her thoughts, but found that it did not. It seemed to her
that she heard a faint hiss, but she supposed that it was the wind or
the water.

She opened her eyes again――and almost shrieked in alarm. Four inches in
front of her face the point of a sword had slipped through a tiny crack
in the wall, coming from the space adjoining!

The _señorita_ recoiled a space, but watched the blade as though
fascinated by it. Inch by inch it slipped through the wall, until
two-thirds of its length was inside the cabin. And again she restrained
a cry, but this time a cry of joy. On the blade, marked with some black
substance, was a big Z!

So Señor Zorro even now was near! He was on the other side of the
partition, only a couple of feet from her! She bent her head forward as
the blade was slowly withdrawn, put her lips close to the tiny crack in
the wall.

“Diego!” she whispered.

“Not Diego, but Señor Zorro, _señorita_, at your service,” came back a
low tone.

“Thank the saints!” she breathed. “But, what can you do? You must be
careful!”

“Think you I would allow them to carry you away, and not follow?” he
asked.

“If they find you――”

“Do you put such small value, _señorita_, upon my ability to care for
myself?”

“Diego! Zorro!” she whispered. “To you I am not backward in confessing
it――I am so afraid!”

“Then will I sing for you, beloved!”

“Zorro! Dare not to do it! They may hear!”

“Let them hear a decent song for once in their wicked lives!” Señor
Zorro said. “Be of strong heart, _señorita_! And be not frightened at
what you may hear or see. It is in my mind to terrorize these vermin
who call themselves men, preparatory to rescuing you!”

“Brave words, Diego!” she said. “But you cannot fight against four
score. If, at the end, you could do me one service――”

“And that?” he asked.

“Death is to be preferred to dishonor, Diego!”

“Why speak of dying? Do you forget that you are my affianced bride? You
are to live, and I am to live, _señorita_, and have many happy years.
Think always on that, and not on the other! And be of good cheer, for I
am near you always!”

She heard a slight movement on the other side of the partition. He did
not speak again, nor did she. Her heart was beating like angry waves
against a rocky shore. Her face was flushed. It gave her courage just
to know that he was near. Señor Zorro, she felt confident, would find a
way.

There was silence for a moment, and then she heard the soft hiss again.

“_Sí?_” she questioned.

“This is some sort of a storeroom,” he said, “in which Zorro has made a
temporary nest. But I do not intend to remain in it forever. It is in
my mind to look at you through the porthole before the dawn comes.”

“Diego! To dare such a thing――”

“What would not a _caballero_ dare for love?” he asked. “For love of
such a one――”

“Diego!”

“Call me Zorro, for, by the saints, that is my rôle now! I find that
I have a dual personality, and the tamer part of me is not working at
present. I am Zorro, the daring in love and war!”

“Have a care, for my sake,” she begged.

“I have work to do and a game to play, and they may be combined,” he
answered. “For the moment, _Adios_!”

Again she heard the little sound, as though he were retreating from the
partition and crawling over boxes and bales. There was deep silence for
a time, save for the noises on the deck. And then she heard his voice,
raised in song, and her heart almost stopped, for she knew that the
pirates must hear it, too.

She leaned her head against the wall, that she might hear the better,
though she was sorely afraid. She had heard the song often before, from
Don Diego’s lips, and when other young _caballeros_ had come to her
father’s _hacienda_ serenading. But never had she heard the real Señor
Zorro sing it before, and never before had it sounded so thrilling and
so sweet.

    “_Atención!_ A _caballero’s_ near!
     To guard the one to his heart most dear!
     To love, to fight, to jest, to drink!
     To live the life and never shrink!
     His blade is bright, his honor, too!
     _Atención!_”

The voice grew louder, more ringing. It seemed to the _señorita_ to
swell through the ship and across the tossing sea. Her heart beat
faster, though she still feared for him. Well she knew the audacity,
the reckless courage of her Señor Zorro!

“Zorro!” she breathed. “Man of men! _Caballero_ mine!”

There was silence on the deck above, and then she heard the harsh, loud
voice of Barbados, but could not understand his words. Señor Zorro was
continuing his song:

    “_Atención!_ I’ve a thrust in store
     For rogues, for foes, an abundance more
     To shield my lady from all harm,
     To save her from the world’s alarm;
     A _caballero_ calls to you――
     _Atención!_”

The _señorita’s_ eyes closed, her lips parted slightly, her breathing
became as the stirring of a leaf in a gentle breeze. The song had
lulled her fears.

“Zorro!” she whispered, as the verse was ended. But there came no
answer from the other side of the partition.

Up on the deck, however, there was consternation. Barbados, having
listened, whirled angrily toward his crew.

“Who dares sing such a song?” he shrieked. “Are there not royally good
pirate ditties, that some of you must use the mush-like tunes and words
of the high-born?”

“Every man is on deck,” wailed Sanchez, who had been superintending the
storing of the loot. “’Tis a ghost song!” he exclaimed.

“A ghost song!” shrieked some of those nearest him.

Barbados shuddered. “There will be ghosts aplenty if this nonsense does
not stop!” he declared, whipping his cutlass out of his belt. “It was
no ghost singing. A ghost would have a more perfect voice. If I hear it
again――”

He heard it again. It seemed to come from the sails above, from the
waves overside, from the cabins below.

“_Dios!_” Barbados swore. “By my naked blade――”

“It is a ghost song!” Sanchez whimpered again.

Barbados whirled upon him, but the lieutenant dodged the blow that
would have hurled him senseless to the deck. The pirate chief,
breathing heavily, looked around at his men. Terror already had claimed
some of them.

“It is a trick of some scurvy knave I’ll split in twain!” he declared.
“On with your work!”

The men shivered, but again bent to their tasks. Barbados walked to
the rail and stood looking down at the dark water, and then toward the
land, where the dawn was almost due. Through the darkness and up to him
slipped one of the pirate crew.

“Master!” he whispered.

“To your work, hound of hell!”

“A word with you, master!”

“Concerning what?” Barbados demanded.

The man edged closer. “Master, I have a present for you――a goodly piece
of loot that is not in the common store.”

“How is this?” Barbados said. “You steal from your comrades?”

“Softly, master, else they hear!” the man whispered. “This is something
special, and I got it for you.”

“In Reina de Los Angeles?”

“_Sí_, master! In Reina de Los Angeles. It was while we were in the
church there.”

“In the church?” Barbados gasped.

“When the old _fray_ first stood us off, master, and before you came.
We had rushed forward, and I was in the van. And when the old _fray_
was hurled backward the first time, I got it.”

“And what is it?”

“A golden goblet, master, studded with precious gems. See――I have it
here! I saved it for you, master, and thought perhaps that you might
give me promotion――”

Barbados looked at the goblet, struck by the light from the nearest
torch. It glowed and glistened like some live thing. The pirate chief
recoiled.

“Away with it!” he cried. “I do not want to touch it――do not wish to
see it! It is a thing of ill-omen, the thing that old _fray_ was trying
to protect!”

“But, master――”

“Ill-luck will follow the man who has it. It is some sort of holy
thing! Away with it! Keep it for yourself. Gamble it away, and the
sooner you get rid of it the better. You may be struck down for taking
it. I had a friend once who robbed a church and struck a priest, and I
do not care to remember what happened to him! Are you going to take it
away?”

The man gasped, astonished, and put the golden goblet beneath his shirt.

“I may have it all for myself?” he asked.

“_Sí!_ I would not touch the thing! I call upon the saints to witness
that I never touched it!”

So, through all the ages, have wicked men, in moments of fear, called
upon the gods they have pretended to scorn.




                              CHAPTER IX.

                           LOVE AND MYSTERY.


Señor Zorro, having concluded his song, crept over boxes and bales to
the little door of the storeroom. There he crouched and listened for a
time, but heard nothing save the noise from the ship’s deck and the
wash of the sea and singing of the wind through the rigging.

Presently he opened the door a crack and peered out into a pitch-dark,
narrow passage. He slipped through and closed the door after him. Again
he stopped to listen, and then he crept forward, reached a ramshackle
ladder, and went up it swiftly and silently to a tiny hatch.

Lifting the hatch he crawled out upon the deck near the rail, hidden
from the glare of all the torches. He had seen such a ship as this
before, and knew her build well. There were no mysteries for him.

Along the rail he went like a shadow, and as silently. He reached
a point where he could look amidships. Barbados was back among his
men, now, urging them to greater speed, and Sanchez was echoing his
commands. The ship was sailing at a fair rate of speed before a
freshening breeze.

Señor Zorro crouched in the darkness and contemplated the pirate crew
for a moment. He put out a hand to brace himself against the rolling
of the vessel, and it came in contact with a tub of small bolts. Señor
Zorro had an inspiration.

Far ahead of him, in the flare of a torch, he saw the ship’s bell.
Señor Zorro grasped one of the little bolts, stood to his feet, took
careful aim, and hurled the bolt from the darkness. He missed the bell
by the fraction of a foot, and the bolt flew overboard.

Señor Zorro grunted, got another bolt, and tried again. It struck the
bell squarely, glanced away, and fell into the sea. Out above the din
rang one clear note. The ship had an excellent bell.

Instantly there was silence. Barbados whirled to look forward. His crew
stood open-mouthed.

“The ship’s bell sounded!” Sanchez wailed.

“And which of you struck it?” Barbados demanded.

“No man was near it,” Sanchez declared. “But it sounded. I do not like
this business!”

Barbados shivered, but made a show of courage. “Something struck it,”
he said. “Possibly something dropped from aloft. Are you babies that
you flinch because of the ringing of a bell? To your work, else I wade
among you, naked blade in hand! Ha! I have sailed with a throng of
children, it appears!”

They bent to their work again, and at that moment Señor Zorro hurled
another bolt, and the bell rang out clearly once more. Again the work
stopped as though Barbados had bawled an order for the men to cease.

“A ghost bell!” a man shrieked.

“A ghost bell!” Sanchez declared, crossing himself. “We are doomed! The
ship is doomed!”

“To your work!” Barbados was both afraid and angry now. He strode
forward, threatening them. He made his way toward the bell, and stood
looking at it. Because of his presence the bell did not ring again.
Yet Barbados did not feel at all easy. He beckoned the man who had the
goblet.

“You retain the thing?” he asked.

“_Sí, señor!_”

“It is an evil thing for you to hold.”

“You want it?”

“Not I, by the saints!” Barbados swore. “And do you keep away from me
while the thing is in your possession. If misfortune comes to the ship
or the company because of the goblet, then will you go overside first
of all! And with a weight around your neck!”

The man scurried away along the deck, and Barbados, his courage
returning, whirled around and issued a volley of commands. From the
darkness Señor Zorro hurled another small bolt, and for the third time
the bell sent forth its ringing message.

Barbados whirled around again, his face suddenly white. He was within
six paces of the bell, and he knew that no other man was nearer it than
that. He felt the eyes of the terror-stricken crew upon him, and knew
that he must show courage now, else lose his control over his men.

“Some one is playing a trick,” Barbados said. “And when I find the
hound of hell who is doing it, I feed him to the sharks in two
sections!”

He called two of the men, bade them get torches, and stationed them
near the bell with orders to watch it closely. They shivered, but they
obeyed. Thoughts of a ghost were terrible enough, but Barbados was
there in the flesh, and his cutlass was ready in his hand.

But the bell did not ring again. Señor Zorro had accomplished his
purpose, which was to make the crew nervous, and he was through playing
in that direction. He slipped on along the rail, now and then peering
over. After a time he picked up a line, fastened it to the rail and
tossed the other end overboard, tried it with the weight of his body,
made a loop in it, and slipped one leg through the loop.

Over the rail and down the side he went, slowly and carefully, the
sword of Zorro in its scabbard at his side. And presently he came to a
porthole, through which light streamed. He swung around, grasped the
edge of it.

The Señorita Lolita, looking up suddenly, almost shrieked in sudden
alarm. But the next instant she was off the bunk and across the tiny
cabin, and her face was within a foot of his.

“Zorro!” she said. “You are doing a reckless thing――”

“Would I allow a few score mere pirates to keep us apart?” he asked.
“Am I that sort of _caballero_?”

“But you are in grave danger, from the men above and the sea beneath!”

“Danger is the spice of life, _señorita_! After we are wedded it will
be time enough for me to be tame.”

“But that may never be, Diego.”

“Zorro, _señorita_, if it is all the same to you. I must remember
continually now that I am Zorro.”

“You must get back to the deck and go into hiding,” she said. “I fear
for you. And should anything happen to you what would become of me?”

“It is some small risk,” Señor Zorro admitted, “but I felt that I
should make this call.”

One of her hands was at the porthole’s edge. Señor Zorro, clinging to
the rope, grasped it in his right hand and carried it to his lips.

“The most beautiful _señorita_ in all the world!” he said.

“Zorro!”

“And for once I have you, _señorita_, when your _duenna_ is not present
to pester us. We are betrothed. We were to have been wed to-day. I will
have more courage, _señorita_, if I have felt your lips against mine.
The memory of our betrothal kiss still tingles in my veins, but it is a
memory that should be refreshed.”

“_Señor_――”

“How is this?”

“Diego! Zorro, I mean!”

“That is much better.”

“And then you will climb above and take heed for yourself?”

“With a kiss for incentive, I could climb to the summit of the world
and reach for heaven!” Señor Zorro declared.

She blushed and then inclined her head. He bent forward, and their lips
met in the porthole.

“Go!” she said then. “Go, Zorro, and may the saints guard you!”

“My arm is strengthened,” he declared. “And your wishes are to be
obeyed. _Señorita, adios!_”

An instant their eyes met, and then he was gone, climbing up the line
hand over hand through the darkness. Señorita Lolita tried to watch
him, but could not. And so she hurried back to the bunk and curled up
on it again, holding one hand to her flaming cheek, moistening with her
tongue the lips that the lips of Señor Zorro had pressed.

Zorro reached the deck and disconnected the line, wishing to leave no
trace behind him. He glanced toward the land, and realized that soon
the dawn would come. Along the rail he slipped, until he came to a spot
from where he could watch the pirates.

The majority of the loot had been stored away. No man was aloft.
Barbados was cursing at a group near the opposite rail. Señor Zorro
looked across at him and wished that he was near. He saw Sanchez, too,
knew him for the lieutenant, and it came into his mind that Sanchez had
commanded the squad that had abducted the _señorita_.

And, as he watched, Sanchez started across the deck, around the mast,
bore down upon Señor Zorro where he stood in the darkness. Soon he
would be in the darkness near the rail. But before he could reach it
he would be forced to pass beneath one of the flaring torches, and for
an instant the strong light would be in his eyes. Señor Zorro whipped
out his blade and crept forward to the edge of the blackness, keeping
behind a mass of cordage piled upon the deck.

His eyes were narrowed now, his lips in a straight line, an expression
of determination in his face. So he stood and watched Sanchez approach,
holding the sword of Zorro ready.

The moment came. The blade darted forward and struck, and its point
worked like lightning. Sanchez gave a scream of mingled surprise and
pain and fear, and reeled backward, clapping a hand to his forehead.

Barbados whirled to look. Señor Zorro, as silently as a shadow, darted
along the rail through the black night, on his way to the little hatch
and the storeroom below.

“Fiends of hell!” Barbados was shrieking. “Sanchez, what is it? You
screech like a shocked wench!”

Sanchez, still shrieking, staggered back and turned beneath the flaring
torch to face them. On his forehead was a freshly cut letter Z.

“The mark of Zorro!” Barbados gasped. “So――”

“A demon struck me!” Sanchez cried. “I saw no man! Something came out
of the night and struck me!”

“Fool!” Barbados shrieked. “A blade made those cuts.”

“But there was no blade, no man! Out of the dark it came――”

“Think you Señor Zorro is aboard?”

“No man, I say!” Sanchez shrieked. “It was a ghost. There is a ghost
aboard. We are doomed――the ship is doomed! The ship’s bell rings――and
men are cut――”

“By my naked blade!” Barbados swore. “A sword in the hand of a human
made that cut! Do I not bear one myself?”

“But how could this Señor Zorro get aboard?” Sanchez wailed. “It was a
ghost!”

The ship’s bell gave forth one more melodious clang! Señor Zorro, on
his way to the storeroom and his hiding place, had stopped long enough
to hurl another bolt.




                              CHAPTER X.

                            A DEAD PIRATE.


Sanchez and some of the others shrieked in terror. Barbados, cursing
loudly, strode to the middle of the deck, whirled around, brandished
his cutlass as though he would have fought the world. He would not
admit to himself that this thing was getting on his nerves, but he
glanced anxiously toward the land and wished for the dawn. He drove the
men to finish their work, grasped Sanchez roughly by the arm, and led
him aside.

“Understand,” he said, “either this Señor Zorro is aboard in some
mysterious fashion, or else there is a traitor among us playing this
Zorro’s part.”

“A ghost――” Sanchez began.

“Another word of ghosts, and I run you through!” Barbados warned. “The
men are silly fools, but you are supposed to have some sense, being
second in command. When the day comes we search the ship; and if we
find this Señor Zorro in hiding we deal with him in a way he will not
relish. He is one man against many!”

Sanchez shivered and raised a trembling hand to his flaming forehead.
The blood had streamed down his cheeks from the wound Señor Zorro had
put there; and Señor Zorro, on his way to his hiding place, had paused
for an instant to watch this comedy――had paused, and so was lost to
caution.

Back along the rail he hurried and from the tub he took some of the
bolts. Up into the rigging he went like a monkey, until he was over the
deck. He braced himself, took careful aim, and once more the bell rang
out.

The pirates whirled toward it, and Barbados took a step forward, an
oath rumbling from his lips, while Sanchez screeched and tried to hide
behind the mast. Señor Zorro hurled another bolt, and this one struck
Sanchez on his shoulder. He cried out again and fled across the deck.

Another bolt hurtled through the night, and this time Barbados felt
the blow on the back of his neck. The screeches of Sanchez drowned the
noise of the bolt falling to the deck. The pirate chief whirled upon
the men nearest.

“Some one is playing tricks!” he shrieked. “If I find the man doing
it――”

The bell rang again. It was too much for the pirates. They rushed
toward the rail and stood there, white of face and shivering, clutching
at their breasts, looking out into the black night as though they
expected some demon to come riding toward them on a breath of breeze.

Señor Zorro went down the rigging swiftly, for the first streak of
dawn was showing over the land and stealing across the sea. Along the
rail he rushed, reached the little hatch, and let himself down. A few
minutes later he was safe among his boxes and bales in the storeroom.

He crept across to the tiny crack through which he had whispered to
the _señorita_; but he could not see her where she was sitting on the
bunk――could see only straight ahead.

“_Señorita!_” he whispered.

“Zorro!”

“Safe again, _señorita_. I have been playing with these babies of
pirates.”

“Be not rash, else I call you Don Diego,” she said.

“How can I be Señor Zorro, and not rash?” he wanted to know. “The dawn
is coming. Have you rested?”

“I could not sleep,” she replied. “There were thoughts of you, and of
other things.”

“But now I guard,” he whispered. “Sleep, and I will watch.”

She started to make reply, but instead she hissed a warning. Heavy
steps had sounded outside the cabin door. She heard the bar being
removed. And then the door was opened and one of the pirates stood in
it, grinning, a torch in his hand.

“I have brought food,” he said, “at the chief’s command.”

Señorita Lolita’s lips curled in scorn as she looked at him.

“Do you think I would eat it?” she asked.

“It is the chief’s command. You are to be kept well fed and pretty as
the prize of some great man.”

“You may take your food away again!”

“And have the chief slit my throat for not carrying out his orders?”
the man asked. “Do you take me for a fool?”

He stepped into the little cabin and closed the door behind him. And
then she saw that he carried a bottle of wine and half a cold fowl.
She gasped as she looked at the wine, for there was a label upon the
bottle, and it bore the stamp of her father’s _hacienda_.

It returned to her with a rush――memory of her father being struck down,
of her home in flames, of her weeping mother crouched over her father’s
body. She gave a little cry and reeled back against the wall.

“Leave me!” she commanded. “Out!”

The man leered and stepped toward her. She darted away from him, horror
in her eyes. He put the bottle and fowl down upon the bunk.

“I leave the food and drink, pretty wench,” he said. “You may use it or
throw it through the porthole into the sea――it is all the same to me.”

“Out!” she cried again.

“You do not like me?” he asked, getting closer to her. “Many women
have. You are not to be spoiled being the prize of some great man, but
a kiss will not spoil you. Never have I kissed a wench with proud blood
in her veins. It will be something to remember and boast about!”

Now she crouched against the wall, her heart pounding at her ribs, her
breath coming in little gasps. Her eyes were dilated with terror.

“Out!” she said, though her fear reduced her screech to a mere whisper.
“Your master shall know of this!”

That sobered him for a moment, but the picture of her pretty self was
before him, tantalizing him, tormenting him. He reached out a hand to
clutch her. She could retreat no further. She put up her tiny hands as
though to beat him back.

“What is a kiss?” he asked, laughing. “I would not harm you――only a
kiss!”

“I would rather die!” she gasped.

“For that I shall take two――a dozen! Proud wench, are you? Ha!”

He grasped her wrist and started pulling her toward him. She lurched
backward, fought with what strength she could, felt that she was about
to swoon, and realized that she must not. He followed her, reached out
the other hand to grasp her better.

And like the darting of a snake’s tongue came the sword of Zorro
through the crack in the wall. In and out it darted with the swiftness
of thought. The _señorita_, reeling back against the wall, felt herself
released, saw the pirate sag before her, to his knees, topple forward,
and collapse at her feet.

Terror-stricken, she looked down at him, her eyes bulging wide. Blood
flowed from his breast and formed a pool on the floor of the cabin. A
hiss from the other side of the partition brought her to her senses.
She realized, then, that Zorro’s blade had done this thing to save her
an indignity.

“_Señorita!_”

“_Sí?_” she questioned.

“Take the fellow’s dagger from his girdle! Dip it in the blood on the
floor! Have courage and act quickly! ’Twill appear as though you did it
when he offered you insult!”

She realized what he meant, and was quick to obey. She needed the blood
of the Pulidos to aid her now. Stooping, she reached out a hand and
grasped the hilt of the dagger in the dead man’s belt. She drew it out,
shuddered, turned her head away for a moment, faint at the sight of the
blood.

“Courage!” Zorro’s whisper reached her ears. “And make haste,
_señorita_! Some man may come!”

Now came the thing that tested her courage. But she felt that the eyes
of Señor Zorro were upon her. Again she bent forward, and she bathed
the blade of the dagger in the pool of blood upon the floor. Then she
sprang to her feet, holding the dagger in her hand, her face white.

“Open the door,” Zorro whispered from beyond the partition, “and
shriek!”

She hurried to the door, shuddering as she pulled her skirts away from
the dead man. She opened it, and peered out. And the shriek that she
gave was no acting, but the sudden outpouring of what she felt.

There was a moment of silence, and she shrieked yet again. And down
from the deck tumbled Barbados, rage in his face. He looked at her and
at the dagger in her hand. He thrust her aside and stepped into the
cabin.

“So!” he said. “What has happened here?”

“A lady of my blood does not suffer insult!” she said.

“Ha! The dog forgot his instructions, did he? ’Tis well that he is done
for! You have saved me a task!” Barbados declared. He turned and looked
full at her. “A wench of spirit!” he said. “I have half a mind to keep
you for my own!”

Back to the door he went, and shouted to those above. Two men came
rushing down. Barbados yelled commands at them, and they carried the
dead man away. Another brought water in a pail, and dashed it over the
floor to wash the blood down the cracks.

Barbados turned and looked at her again. “You may keep the beast’s
dagger for a souvenir,” he said. “Let me clean it for you.”

She surrendered it willingly. Barbados wiped the blade on his trousers,
bowed, and handed it back to her.

“Take it!” he urged. “Use it when you will, if there are others who
try to disobey my commands. You are to be delivered, unspoiled, to a
certain man. Failing that, I claim you for myself. And put out the
torch when I have gone. The day is here!”

He went out and closed the door, and once more the heavy bar was
dropped into place. Señorita Lolita tossed the dagger from her, hurried
to the bunk, and collapsed upon it. Her senses seemed to be reeling.
She forgot to extinguish the torch.

“_Señorita!_” Zorro whispered from beyond the partition.

But she made him no reply. The terrors of the night had taken their
toll. She had swooned at the dawning of the day.




                              CHAPTER XI.

                        ZORRO WALKS THE PLANK.


There was no dawn in the dark, evil-odored storeroom, but Señor Zorro,
by peering through the crack and into the little cabin, could tell of
the approach of the day. The interior grew gray, and then brighter,
and finally a ray of sun penetrated and touched the dingy hole with
glory.

Señor Zorro put his lips close to the tiny opening and whispered his
call:

“_Señorita!_”

Her swoon had changed to a deep, unnatural slumber by now, and she came
from the midst of it at his sibilant call, bewildered for a moment.

“_Sí?_” she asked.

“You were silent for a time, and I was afraid.”

“Señor Zorro afraid?” she mocked.

“Afraid and not ashamed of it, where you are concerned, _señorita_,” he
replied. “Curl up and try to get some natural sleep. It is in my mind
that these pirates will be busy beating out to sea or trying to reach
their land den, and will have no time to bother you.”

“And what do you intend doing?” she asked. “Do you intend to sleep
also?”

“Don Diego Vega might feel called upon to sleep now and then,” he
answered, “but Señor Zorro dare not. Worry not your pretty head about
me, _señorita_! Rest your pretty eyes, and by the time you awake fate
perhaps will have been kind and revealed to us a way out of this
present difficulty.”

She heard him scrambling among his boxes and bales and barrels. She
would have spoken to him again, but did not dare raise her voice above
a whisper, and she felt slumber claiming her. She was thoroughly
exhausted. Before she went to sleep, however, she extinguished the
torch, and stood for a moment before the open porthole, looking through
the morning haze at the distant land.

The ship was riding easily on the long swells, sailing swiftly toward
the south. The _señorita_ slept, and in the dark storeroom Señor Zorro
reclined on a pile of sacks and tried to think things out. In an
emergency he was quick to think and to act, to take advantage of every
opening, but to sit still and analyze a situation was beyond him. He
was a man of action, and it was action he craved.

He did not doubt that Don Audre Ruiz and the others had obtained
possession of the trading schooner and would follow. But would they
follow the correct lane of the sea? And, if they caught up with
the pirates, what would follow? The _caballeros_ would be greatly
outnumbered. Not that such a thing would cause them to hesitate about
an attack, but it would work against them, of course.

For an hour or more Señor Zorro thought on the problem, itching to be
in action and knowing that he should remain quiet. The pirates would be
searching the ship, he supposed, since he had marked Sanchez the way he
had. He would have to remain in hiding, bury himself in the storeroom
in such manner that they could not find him.

Then, after a time, he heard a noise in the little cabin, and quickly
made his way to the crack in the wall. He could see that the door had
been opened, and then he saw that Sanchez was standing just inside it.

“_Señorita!_” the pirate lieutenant called. “Sleep not when the chief
commands!”

Señorita Lolita came from her slumber and sat up on the bunk with a
little cry.

“Do not be afraid,” Sanchez told her. “By my naked blade, I will keep
my distance! I have no wish for a knife between my ribs, driven there
by a high-born damsel who thinks nothing of murder!”

“What is your wish?” she demanded. She was herself again now, scorning
him, her chin tilted.

“It is no wish of mine,” Sanchez protested. “I but carry the commands
of the chief. He orders that you come on deck, and at once.”

“I prefer to remain here, Señor Pirate,” she replied.

“No doubt. But the commands of Barbados are made to be obeyed, as I
learned some years ago. He has said that you are to go on deck, and so
you shall, even if I have to carry you.”

One step he took toward her, but she sprang from the bunk and crouched
against the wall.

“Dare not to touch me, foul beast!” she cried. “’Twas you cut my father
down! ’Twas you stole me away from my home and fetched me to the coast!”

“I do not want to touch you, little spitfire!” Sanchez informed her.
“I have but come to escort you to the deck. What Barbados wants with
you I do not know. Perhaps it is to have you get some fresh air, so you
will look pretty when you are delivered to the great man. Ha! You are
pretty enough now to suit any man who is not too exacting.”

He turned back toward the door, offering her no affront. And there he
waited, as though with deep respect.

“Are you coming?” he demanded. “Barbados is not the man to be kept
waiting.”

Once more she curled her lip in scorn, once more her chin was tilted,
and she went forward, drawing aside her skirts, and swept past him like
a queen leaving an audience chamber. Sanchez grinned and followed her.

Señor Zorro, through the tiny crack, had witnessed this scene. He did
not believe that Barbados merely wanted her to take the air. He felt
sudden fear for her, and once more his eyes narrowed and seemed to send
forth flakes of steel. He scrambled over the boxes and bales toward the
little door.

Up the rickety ladder he went and to the hatch, and there he listened
for a time, hearing nothing alarming. And then he raised the hatch
slowly, an inch at a time, blinking his eyes rapidly at the bright
light of the day.

None of the pirates was in sight. Señor Zorro slipped out and dropped
the hatch covering, whipped out his blade, and crept through the little
passage toward the spot from where the deck of the ship could be viewed.

He was in time to see the _señorita_ piloted across the deck to where
Barbados was standing alone. The crew were forward, some sleeping
sprawled on the deck, others leaning against the rail watching the
antics of the flying fish.

Barbados whirled and stood with arms akimbo, regarding her narrowly.
She faced him bravely, her hands clasped behind her back.

“_Señorita_,” the pirate said, “queer things happened during the night.
I would question you concerning them.”

“Is it necessary?” she asked.

“By my naked blade, it is!” he roared. “I am not to be treated like
a dog by you or any of your ilk. This is my ship, and here I am sole
master, and it would be well for you to remember it.”

“I am quite sure none other would desire the mastery of her,” the
_señorita_ replied.

“You have a biting tongue,” Barbados said. “I would hate to be your
husband. Else that tongue were tamed by love, it would be a hot dish to
have continually.”

She turned away from him and gazed across the sea. He took a step
nearer her.

“Is this Señor Zorro aboard?” he demanded suddenly.

“Would I know it, were he?” she countered.

“Possibly. I am asking a question, and desire an answer,” Barbados
said. “It has been said that a high-born wench such as yourself scorns
to utter falsehood. Let us see if that is correct.”

She made no reply, and the face of Barbados grew purple with wrath. He
closed and unclosed his great hands as though he would have liked to
strangle her.

“Is Señor Zorro aboard?” he demanded again.

“Have you seen him?” she wanted to know.

“I have not. But I have seen some things that I imagine are his doing.”

“And I notice that you and your lieutenant bear his mark,” she said.

“Ha! Let me but get my hands on him, and he’ll bear more than a mark!”
Barbados declared. “I am having a search made of the ship. If he is
found you’ll see how a man can be sent to his death speedily.”

The _señorita_ gave a little cry and recoiled, her hands at her breast.

“Ha! You show fear for him!” Barbados cried. “So he is aboard, is he?”

“Have I said so?” she asked.

“You have not――but now you are going to tell me the truth. Wench, I’m
done with trifling. You presume too much on the knowledge that you
are to be the prize of an important man. Do you not know you are in
my power? Could I not do with you as I pleased, and then heave you
overboard, and tell this important gentleman later that you got the
chance and threw yourself into the sea?”

Evil glistened suddenly in his eyes, and the little _señorita_ recoiled
again. Sanchez, who had remained standing near, laughed like a fiend.

“We could gamble for her,” Sanchez suggested.

“This is my affair, and you will do well to remain silent,” Barbados
declared, whirling upon him.

Once more he faced Señorita Lolita, and the fiendish look upon his face
made her flinch.

“Tell me all you know about this Señor Zorro!” Barbados commanded. “Did
you slay the man in your cabin, or did this Señor Zorro do it? Answer
me, wench! Reply here and now, else I teach you a lesson you will
remember to your last hour.”

He sprang forward suddenly and grasped her arm cruelly, and she cried
out because of the indignity and the pain.

Señor Zorro, from his place of watching, flinched as though he had
experienced the indignity and pain himself. He wanted to hurl himself
forward and to the attack, but he realized that it would not last for
long. He could not hope to engage the entire ship’s company, though he
made a long and running fight of it, and emerge from the combat the
victor.

But there came an interruption. From forward was a hail:

“A sail! A sail!”

The pirates sprang to their feet. Those who had been sprawled upon the
deck asleep awoke.

Barbados forgot the _señorita_ for a moment and turned to look.

Behind, and bearing down upon them swiftly, came another ship. Señor
Zorro knew, as did the pirates, that she had put out from the land
before the dawn and far to the south of where the pirate ship had been
at anchor.

Hope beat suddenly in Zorro’s breast. She was a trading schooner, he
could tell even at that distance. If only she carried Audre Ruiz and
his friends! It was a question what would happen. If she was some
honest vessel, perhaps she would fall victim to the pirate craft. She
might not be prepared to fight.

Barbados issued a volley of commands. The pirate craft turned for a run
farther out to sea, so that she could tack back and catch the oncoming
ship between her and the shore.

Lookouts were posted to watch carefully. Sanchez ran here and there,
echoing the orders of his chief.

From his hiding place Señor Zorro watched now the approaching vessel,
and now the deck where Señorita Lolita was standing against the mast,
forgotten for the moment.

Were he quite sure that ship carried his friends Señor Zorro could go
into action. For he flattered himself that he would be able to hold his
own until the other ship came up.

It appeared that the other vessel had no intention of running up the
coast. She changed her course also, and bore after the pirate craft.

Señor Zorro watched her carefully. He could not make out her flag. At
the distance he could see nothing except that she was of the type of
trading schooner, and that she had swift heels. For she was gaining
rapidly, as though sailed by experts. And the pirate craft was foul of
bottom, needing careening and scraping.

Barbados had hurried to the rail and was watching the oncoming ship.
Señorita Lolita saw it also, but did not seem to realize that it meant
hope. Perhaps she feared that the ship was but coming into grave
danger, running into a conflict that would mean capture and death for
her crew.

Señor Zorro glanced at the deck, and then back at the approaching
vessel again. He saw that another sail was being sent aloft. It was
broken out, snapped into place, the lines tautened. And Señor Zorro
with difficulty restrained a cheer. On the white expanse of the sail,
painted there in haphazard fashion, but easily made out, was a monster
Z.

So his friends were on that ship! Señor Zorro felt better now. He
glanced once more toward the deck, and realized that Barbados had seen
what was on the sail also. For the pirate chief left the rail and
stamped back to the _señorita’s_ side, determination in his manner and
rage in his countenance.

“Now you’ll speak the truth, wench!” he shouted. “Is Señor Zorro aboard
this ship? If those are his friends coming up, then will we attend to
him before we attend to them!”

“I do not care to hold conversation with you,” she said.

“No? By my naked blade, I am in command here!” he roared. “An answer I
intend to have.”

He lurched forward and grasped her by the shoulders, shook her as a
terrier shakes a rat, held her at arm’s length and shook her again. She
fought against crying out, but could not win the battle against such
cruel odds.

One plaintive little cry drifted across the deck and straight into the
heart of Señor Zorro.

He transferred his sword from his right hand to his left. He whipped
the dagger from his belt and hurled it. His aim was poor, yet he had
come close enough. The dagger was driven, quivering, into the mast
between Barbados and the _señorita_.

Barbados, with a cry, sprang backward, and the _señorita_ slumped to
the deck at the foot of the mast. And Señor Zorro realized in that
instant that he had stepped forward too far and had been seen. Sanchez
gave a cry and started toward him. The pirates whirled from the rail to
look. Barbados saw him.

“’Tis Señor Zorro!” Barbados shrieked. “After him! Fetch him to me
alive! An extra share of loot to the man who gets him!”

It was the promise of loot that drove them on. They shrieked and rushed
forward. Señor Zorro put the blade of his sword between his teeth and
darted up into the rigging.

And then began a fight the like of which the pirates never had seen
before. Señor Zorro seemed scarcely human. Up the rigging he went like
a monkey. He sprang from spar to spar. Down the ratlines he rushed,
down the ropes he slid.

Now and then he clashed with one of the pirates, and always the sword
of Zorro darted in and out, and a wounded man was left behind.

“Seize him!” Barbados shrieked. “After him, dogs! Is one man to hold
you off forever? Do not slay him! An extra share of loot――”

Señor Zorro struck the deck and darted across it. Sanchez retreated
before his darting blade. He pierced the breast of a pirate who stepped
before him, hurled another aside, sprang to the mast, and recovered
his dagger. He stooped for an instant, and pressed the lips of the
_señorita_ to his own, and dashed on.

Now he was cornered, and now he fought his way to freedom. A dagger
whirled past his head and buried itself in the deck beyond. Into the
rigging he went again, up the ratlines, out along a spar.

They followed him, and he put his sword into its scabbard and sprang.
Far below he caught another spar, ran to the mast, started downward
again. One glance he gave at the approaching ship. His friends were
gaining, but they still were far away.

Again they had him cornered, and again he escaped them by jumping to
the deck below. He dashed around the deck cabin, met and defeated
another man with a single clash of blades, and was at the rail.

There was grave danger on the deck, he knew, and so he went aloft once
more. Up and up he went, while Barbados and Sanchez shrieked to the
others to follow and get him.

“Alive! I want him alive!” Barbados screeched.

Another spring from spar to spar. Señor Zorro almost missed because of
the rolling of the ship. But he caught and clung on, and scrambled to a
place of safety. In toward the mast he hurried.

But there was a treacherous spot on the spar, where the mist had
struck and clung, a wet spot made to cause a boot to slip. Señor Zorro
felt himself reeling suddenly to one side. He grasped wildly――grasped
nothing but empty air. His heart seemed to stop beating for an instant.
He felt himself falling through space. To his ears came the terrified
cry of the little _señorita_. The deck rushed up to meet him. He
struck it with a crash and the darkness came.

Señorita Lolita gave another little cry and covered her face with her
hands. Barbados and Sanchez rushed forward, the others at their heels.

Señor Zorro was unconscious for the moment, though the fall had broken
no bones.

“Bind him!” Barbados cried, glancing back at the oncoming ship. “We
attend to him first, and then to his friends. Water his head well and
bring him back to life. Get ready a plank!”

The pirates rushed to do his bidding.

Señor Zorro’s wrists were lashed behind his back. One man hurled water
into his face, and he groaned and opened his eyes, and tried to sit up
on the deck.

“Ha!” Barbados cried. “So it is Señor Zorro, eh? And now we can repay
you for this little mark you put on my forehead, _señor_! Barbados,
also, knows how to make payment!”

He gave a signal, and the pirates forced Zorro to his feet. He tried
to fight, but they overpowered him. They braced him against the mast,
while the _señorita_ crept aside and watched.

“Hold the wench!” Barbados commanded two of the men. “We don’t want her
throwing herself overboard. And I wish her to witness what is to come.”

The two men held her. Señor Zorro, half throttled, was kept against the
mast. Barbados made another sign, and some of the men carried forward a
heavy bar of iron and lashed it to Señor Zorro’s wrists.

“To the rail with him!” Barbados commanded.

They forced him to the rail, and the two men urged the _señorita_ along
beside him. Over the rail a long, wide plank had been extended.

Señor Zorro knew what they meant to do to him. And now Señorita Lolita
realized it, too.

“No, no!” she shrieked. “You must not do this thing!”

“Ha! Revenge is sweet!” Barbados cried. “Señor Zorro, you are about to
descend to a watery hell! We’ll let you take your sword with you, since
you may need it fighting demons. You take the plunge, and then, when
yon ship comes up, we attend to your friends! As for the _señorita_,
know that she will be delivered safely to one who has bargained for
her.”

“Why not give me a chance in a fair fight?” Zorro asked. “Any two of
you――any three――”

“Your friends are coming up, and we must prepare for them,” Barbados
replied, laughing. “You have fought your last fight on earth, _señor_.
See if you can mark the brow of the devil with your cursed Z.”

“Diego!” the _señorita_ moaned.

“As a special favor you may kiss the wench,” Barbados said. “It will
be practice for her. And take with you to the bottom of the sea the
knowledge that another will kiss her soon.”

The _señorita_ rushed forward and threw her arms around him and kissed
him, unashamed.

“Diego! I’ll follow you!” she said.

“’Tis a merry end,” Señor Zorro declared. “Be brave of heart! Our
friends are at hand, _señorita_! If Don Audre Ruiz is aboard that ship
he will know how to save you――and how to avenge me.”

Again they kissed, and then the two pirates jerked her roughly backward.

Barbados laughed like a fiend.

“Practice for the other man!” he roared. “When Captain Ramón――”

“So it is Ramón?” Zorro cried.

“_Sí!_ And a lot of good the knowledge will do you now.”

“This much good――that I shall not die!” Zorro answered.

“If you do not, then indeed are you a man! With a weight on your lashed
wrists―― Enough!” he exclaimed. “Put him on the plank!”

They lifted him and stood him upon it, facing him toward the sea. They
forced him a short distance from the rail.

“Diego!” the _señorita_ cried, agony in her voice.

At her cry the plank was tipped.

And with her cry ringing in his ears Señor Zorro shot downward like a
man of metal――shot downward into the tossing sea, and was gone!




       [Illustration: The Further Adventures of Zorro, Part III]




                             CHAPTER XII.

                            TO THE RESCUE.


Upon the frantic departure of Don Diego Vega from Reina de Los Angeles,
Don Audre Ruiz took command of the situation and the _caballeros_
simultaneously. There was none willing to dispute his leadership. Don
Audre always had been a leader when there was an enterprise that called
for hard riding and hard fighting in the bright face of danger.

Captain Ramón was not to be found, and Sergeant Gonzales had ridden
away with the soldiers. So Don Audre noised it abroad that he and his
friends intended pursuing the pirates as speedily as possible, and made
a quick search for mounts.

They acquired enough, presently, but the horses were a sorry lot when
compared to the _caballeros’s_ own, which the pirates had stolen. And
without changing their attire, retaining the splendid costumes they
had been wearing at Don Diego’s bachelor feast and with their jeweled
swords at their sides, they rode up the slope and took the trail that
would carry them to the sea.

Don Audre decided against following the pirates’ tracks. He knew that
they would reach the coast long before the _caballeros_, and would
embark. Don Diego would do what he could, which would be little. And
Don Audre realized that their only hope was to get to the trading
schooner, put out in it, and make an attempt to overtake Barbados and
his evil crew.

They rode with what speed they could, shouting at their poor mounts
and at one another, along the slopes, down the dusty trails and so
toward the distant sea. They crossed the trail of the pirates who had
looted the Pulido _hacienda_, but ignored it. Don Audre Ruiz knew where
the trading schooner would be anchored, some miles to the south of
where the pirate ship undoubtedly had touched, and that place was his
objective.

Hour after hour they rode, urging their jaded horses to their utmost,
glad that the moon was bright and that they could make as good progress
as in the day. And, when they finally were within a couple of miles
of the sea, and also an hour of the dawn, Don Audre suddenly raised
his hand and reined in his horse, and those behind stopped with him. A
native was standing in the middle of the trail.

Don Audre approached him slowly, hand on the hilt of his dagger. There
were some natives who were not to be trusted. But when he drew near he
recognized the fellow as one who had worked at his father’s _hacienda_.

“What do you here?” Don Audre demanded.

“I saw the _señor_ coming from the distance with his friends,” the native
answered. “I have news.”

“Speak!”

“I was coming across the hills, _señor_, and saw the pirates.”

“Ha! Talk quickly!” Audre Ruiz commanded.

“I went into hiding, lest they slay me. They had good horses and much
loot, also a girl――”

“Tell us of that!”

“It was the _señorita_ Don Diego Vega expects to wed,” the native said.
“They took her with them to the shore, and presently more pirates came
from Reina de Los Angeles. They went aboard their ship, taking the
_señorita_ and the loot with them.”

“What else?”

“There was a man appeared, _señor_, and killed one of the pirates. I
got a glimpse of him, Don Audre, and it was Señor Zorro, the one that――”

“Ha! Zorro!” Audre shrieked. “Speak quickly!”

“He ran from them, and they gave up the pursuit. But when the boats
started from the land, he dived into the sea and swam after them. And
he did not return!”

“Then is he aboard the pirate craft!” Don Audre declared.

“The pirate ship sailed to the south, _señor_.”

“Good!” Audre cried. “Know you anything of the trading schooner?”

“_Sí, señor!_ She is anchored straight ahead, and the men expect to
start for Reina de Los Angeles in the morning to trade.”

“They will not, though they do not know it.” Don Audre said. “Here is
gold for you, fellow. Ha! So the pirate ship sailed to the south. That
means that the rogues are going to their hidden rendezvous somewhere
down the coast. We’ll get the trading schooner and pursue! Forward!”

But, as they would have started, Don Audre Ruiz raised a hand and
stopped them again. From the rear had come the beating of a horse’s
hoofs. Don Audre motioned to the _caballeros_, and they scattered to
either side of the road and prepared to receive the newcomer.

Nearer grew the beating of hoofs, and a horseman appeared, riding
frantically through the moonlight down the slope and toward them. When
he saw them, he reined up, and stopped in their midst in a shower of
gravel and sand and dust. The reckless rider was Sergeant Gonzales.

“Ha, _señores_!” he called. “I have overtaken you finally, it appears.”

“And to what end?” Don Audre Ruiz asked, urging his horse forward and
glaring at the soldier. “You have news?”

“Not so, _señor_! I come in search of it. I returned to Reina de Los
Angeles with my troopers to learn of the pirates and what they had
done. I learned, also, of your departure, so left my men and rode after
you. Captain Ramón was not at the _presidio_. As the next soldier of
rank――”

“It is in our minds to get the trading schooner and give pursuit,” Ruiz
told him.

“That is a worthy idea!” Sergeant Gonzales declared. “Too long have
these bloody pirates infested our shores. Meal mush and goat’s milk!
Let us go forward!”

“Are you seeking to take command of this expedition?” Don Audre Ruiz
demanded, hotly. “This is a private rescue party of _caballeros_, I
would have you know, and not a detachment of the Governor’s men! We
have small love for the Governor!”

“Though I wear his uniform, I say the same thing,” Sergeant Gonzales
declared. “But I am after pirates! I care not who commands, so that I
get a chance at a pirate with my trusty blade! Ha! When I meet a pirate
face to face――”

“Spare us your boasting!” Don Audre said.

“Boasting?” shrieked the sergeant. “Boasting? Perchance you would like
to cross blades with me in answer to that insult?”

“You are safe in making the challenge, knowing that I would not stoop
to do so,” Don Audre said.

“And you are safe in refusing, having the ability to hide behind your
gentle blood!” the sergeant returned.

“_Señor_――”

Sergeant Gonzales urged his mount closer to that of Don Audre, but
the expression in the sergeant’s face had changed peculiarly, and his
countenance did not show rage.

“_Señor_, it is true,” Sergeant Gonzales observed, “that I am but a
poor soldier without blue blood in my veins. My father was a butcher
and my mother’s father raised swine. But Don Diego Vega has been good
enough to term himself my friend. And now that he is in peril, I ride
with his other friends to his rescue, and the rescue of his lady! I
trust the señor will not misunderstand! I do not seek to equal my
betters. If I am not good enough to ride with you, _caballero_, then I
ride by myself! But I ride!”

Don Audre Ruiz bent forward and searched the sergeant’s face by the
light of the one torch the company had burning. Then he extended his
hand.

“Sergeant Gonzales, it is for me to ask your pardon,” Don Audre said,
grandly. “I would not be worthy the blood in my veins did I do less.
Any friend of Don Diego Vega is welcome on this expedition. But, have
you leave of absence?”

“Ha! I took it!” Sergeant Gonzales roared, grinning broadly. “Captain
Ramón was not at the _presidio_. Being the next in rank, I ordered
myself to set out on the trail and get a full report of the occurrence.
When I am able to make that report I return.”

“Ride you with us!” Don Audre said. “Thus we have the sanction of the
soldiery and official approval of our deeds.”

“I shall approve anything that has to do with causing the death of
pirates!” Sergeant Gonzales declared.

The moon disappeared entirely, and the night was dark. They rode
forward slowly now, careful not to get off the trail, but they did not
have much farther to go. Soon they came to the crest of a hill, and
below them they heard the hissing sea, and saw the lights of a ship
riding at anchor a short distance from the shore.

Down to the surf they urged their mounts. And there they met with
another surprise. For a horseman was awaiting them there in the
darkness. Don Audre Ruiz gasped in astonishment when he recognized old
Fray Felipe.

“We left you in the town, _fray_!” he said. “And how is it that we now
find you here? Is this some sort of a miracle?”

“I departed the town while you were yet searching for horses,” Fray
Felipe explained. “I got a mount for myself and came ahead, because I
cannot ride like the wind, as do you young _caballeros_. It was in my
mind that you would make for the trading schooner. I heard you say as
much.”

“But why have you come?” Don Audre wanted to know.

“I have known Don Diego Vega and the little _señorita_ since they were
babes in arms, and I was to have married them to-day,” the old _fray_
replied.

“But fighting is not your forte!” Don Audre declared. “You are old, and
you wear a gown. Do you remain behind and pray for our success, and let
us wield the blades! That were better, _fray_.”

“I am willing to make my prayers. But I have taken a vow,” Fray Felipe
replied. “I must return the golden goblet the pirates stole from the
church.”

“Then you would go with us?” Don Audre asked.

“_Sí!_ I already have communicated with the captain of the trading
schooner, _señor_. He is coming ashore now in one of his boats. Thus
time will be saved.”




                             CHAPTER XIII.

                        TRAGEDY AT A DISTANCE.


The _caballeros_ dismounted stiffly and gathered near the water line.
In from the distant trading schooner a boat was coming, driven over the
choppy water by silent oarsmen. Half a dozen men were in her, and their
flaring torches touched the sea with streaks of flame. They approached
the shore carefully, and on guard, as though fearing some trap set by
thieves, and by the light of the torches those on the land could see
that the men in the boat were heavily armed.

Don Audre Ruiz and Fray Felipe went forward and met the boat at the
water’s edge and greeted the schooner’s captain as he stepped to land.
He was a regular trader who carried goods overland from the sea to
Reina de Los Angeles every now and then. He traveled as far as San
Diego de Alcála to the south, and as far as San Francisco de Asis to
the north――a bold fellow and honest, well and favorably known.

“What is all this tumult?” the captain demanded. “Fray Felipe, are you
not? Ha! I thought that I recognized you, good _fray_! And Don Audre
Ruiz, whose father has purchased much goods of me. Sundry _caballeros_
and men of rank, also! In what way may I be of service to you,
_señores_? Have you ridden out all this long way in the night to have
first choice of my stock of goods?”

Don Audre Ruiz told him swiftly. “We want your ship, to pursue a pirate
craft!” he said.

“How is this, _señor_?” the captain cried. “There are pirates in these
waters?”

“_Sí!_ And possibly within half a dozen miles of you,” Don Audre told
him. “Early in the night they raided Reina de Los Angeles. They also
raided the Pulido _hacienda_, and carried away the _señorita_, who was
to have wed Don Diego Vega this day.”

“By the saints!” the schooner’s captain swore. “They stole the
bride-to-be of Señor Zorro? Is he here with you?”

“He followed them, going ahead of us, and possibly managed to get
aboard their ship,” Don Audre explained. “The pirate craft has sailed
by this time. They went toward the south. They will beat out to sea for
a distance. If we can start soon it may be possible to overhaul them.”

“How many rascals in the pirate crew?” the captain of the schooner
asked.

“Not more than threescore, as nearly as we can judge,” Don Audre
replied. “And here are a score of _caballeros_, and we are ready to
fight!”

The captain of the schooner drew a deep breath, held it for an instant,
and then expelled it with great force. And during this process he
evidently made up his mind concerning the matter.

“_Señores_, I am yours to command!” he said. “My ship is yours, and her
crew. If I can do anything to help rid the seas of such vermin, I am
more than willing. My schooner is a swift vessel in light winds such as
we find now. I’ll signal the other boats and have you aboard as soon as
is possible.”

“You will not fail to profit by it,” Don Audre Ruiz told him.

“I am not doing it with the expectation of profit,” the captain
declared. “I detest thieves, and I admire honest men! I have many
friends in Reina de Los Angeles, some of whom probably have suffered at
the hands of these pirates. And, above all, I did admire the exploits
of this Señor Zorro, as Don Diego was called. It will be a pleasure,
_señores_, to aid you in this.”

He called to his men, and they signaled to the ship with their torches.
Out of the darkness and across the tumbling sea came more boats from
the schooner. The _caballeros_ turned their horses adrift, knowing
that they would be picked up and returned, made certain that they had
daggers and swords handy, and got quickly into the boats and put out to
the ship.

Sergeant Gonzales and Fray Felipe, by accident, were placed in the
same craft, sitting side by side on one of the wide thwarts. Sergeant
Gonzales observed the _fray_ carefully from the corners of his eyes.
The sergeant wished to talk, having kept silent for some minutes, and
the _fray_ was the nearest man he knew.

“Never did I think to join hands with you in an enterprise, _fray_!”
the sergeant said, puffing out his cheeks. “If I am not badly mistaken,
you are the gowned one who stopped me in the plaza on a certain
occasion, and made remarks about soldiers drinking too much wine at
the _posada_. Ha! But pirates’ raids cause rescue parties, and rescue
parties cause strange comrades!”

“I am appreciating the fact,” Fray Felipe replied quietly and with a
smile.

“So they stole your sacred goblet, did they?” Sergeant Gonzales said
smoothly. “_Fray_, when I have rescued the _señorita_, aided Don Diego
to escape, and annihilated the pirates with my blade, then will I
regain your goblet for you! Steal church goblets and brides, eh? Ha!
Meal mush and goat’s milk!”

“If your sword arm is half as strong as your tongue, _señor_,” Fray
Felipe rebuked him gently, “then the pirates are as good as dead
already!”

Sergeant Gonzales whirled upon him.

“Ha! Stinging words from a gentle _fray_!” he gasped. “Is it possible
for me to get insulted where and when I can wipe out the insult with
a thrust? A _caballero_ insults me and then refuses to fight because
of the noble blood in his veins and the poor swill in mine! A _fray_
insults me――and I cannot fight a man who wears a gown! Meal mush and
goat’s milk! But wait until we meet up with these pirates! Let a pirate
but insult me, and――ha! My blade shall be bathed in blood!”

Sergeant Gonzales turned away abruptly to nurse his wrath, and Fray
Felipe smiled and his eyes twinkled. He waited a moment, then touched
the sergeant on the shoulder.

“Soldiers and _frailes_ alike are needed in the world,” Fray Felipe
said. “There are times when a hardy soldier should be gentle――and even
there are times when a _fray_ should fight. Let us be friends!”

“_Fray_,” Sergeant Gonzales declared, “you are a noble fellow, after
all! I forgive you for what you said about drinking wine. When the
muss commences, _fray_, get you behind me. My sword shall shield you,
_fray_!”

“I thank you,” Fray Felipe said. “And I shall shield you in turn with
my prayers.”

“Prayers may have power,” Sergeant Gonzales told him, “but when it
comes to fighting pirates give me my trusty blade! _Fray_, a pirate has
not sense enough to know when a prayer is directed against him!”

Soon they came alongside the schooner and mounted to the deck by the
light of torches. The boats were swung aboard, and the captain and Don
Audre Ruiz held a long conference. Then there came a volley of orders,
the anchor came up and the sails filled, and the schooner crept off the
shore and away from the land through the black night.

Straight out to sea they went, gathering headway, and in time a faint
streak of light showed across the land and the dawn came. _Caballeros_
and crew strained their eyes and swept the sea in every direction. And
finally the sharp eyes of one of the men aloft discovered a sail.

The course of the trading schooner was changed, and the chase began.
Nearer their quarry they crept as the sun came up and bathed the sea
and the land, glistening through the haze. Glasses were leveled at the
distant craft.

“She is the pirate!” the schooner’s captain declared. “Her flag of
iniquity flies from her mast!”

He bellowed another volley of orders to his crew, and they crowded on
all sail. They rushed about the schooner, preparing her for the battle.
The eager _caballeros_ looked to their blades, the crew to their
cutlasses.

“If Zorro is aboard that craft he should know that his friends are near
at hand for the rescue,” Don Audre said.

And then it was that they got out a sail and painted a gigantic Z upon
it, and sent it aloft. It was their banner of battle, a flag of war
that betokened their allegiance to a man and a cause.

“Courage and swift work does it!” the schooner’s captain told Don
Audre. “We are greatly outnumbered. But my crew has had dealings with
pirates before, hence each man will fight with the strength of five.
And you and your friends, Don Audre, have good reason for fighting like
fiends.”

“We are prepared to do it,” Don Audre replied. “Think you that we can
overhaul the pirate?”

“It is but a question of time,” the captain declared. “The pirate
sails prettily, but her bottom is foul. I can tell that much at this
distance. Pirates are too lazy to keep a ship in perfect shape. And
this little schooner of mine is a swift craft and in prime condition.”

They gained steadily, and meanwhile they watched the distant pirate
ship continually. They saw that there was some sort of a tumult on
board. Don Audre Ruiz, standing at the rail near the bow, with a glass
glued to his eye, watched carefully.

“It is probable that Señor Zorro is fighting the entire pirate
company,” he announced. “I can see men running about the rigging. Let
us pray that we may be in time.”

Sergeant Gonzales, standing near him, uttered an oath that the presence
of Fray Felipe did not keep back.

“Meal mush and goat’s milk!” he exclaimed. “Let us crowd on more sail
and have at these pirates!” He swept his blade from its scabbard. “That
for a pirate!” he shrieked, thrusting about him in a rage. “This for a
pirate! Ha!”

“Save your breath and your strength,” Don Audre advised him. “You may
have need of them both soon.”

“Did you hear that, _fray_?” Sergeant Gonzales demanded, whirling upon
old Felipe. “More insults, and I cannot avenge them! A _caballero_
insults me and will not fight, and I cannot fight a _fray_! By the time
we clash with these pirates I shall be in a fine rage, and work it off
on their worthless bodies. Ha!”

Don Audre Ruiz gave a gasp and called some of the _caballeros_ to his
side.

“Look!” he directed. “They are making some poor devil walk the plank!
By the saints, ’tis Zorro!”

“Zorro!” the others cried.

“Look! And the little _señorita_ is standing at the rail, forced to
watch!”

There was a moment of horrified silence. The face of Don Audre Ruiz was
white as he contemplated the fate of his friend. The _caballeros_ said
not a word, but those who had glasses watched, and the others strained
their eyes in an effort to see.

And then Don Audre Ruiz gave a low cry of horror and turned quickly
away, as though he could endure the sight no longer.

What he had seen had been enough. There were traces of tears in his
eyes, and his voice choked.

“He is gone!” Don Audre said. “Don Diego, my friend! We can only avenge
him now!”

“Gone!” Sergeant Gonzales cried, sudden tears in his eyes, too. He
brushed them away roughly and blinked. “Don Diego gone? Then, by the
saints, will my blade be thrust as it never has been thrust before!
Now, by the saints――”

His vow ended in a choke of emotion, and he turned quickly away. Don
Audre, his eyes stinging, his lips set in a thin, straight line, turned
to Fray Felipe.

“Say your prayers for him,” he directed. “And pray, also, that we will
know how to avenge him when we come alongside! _Dios!_ Give strength
to my arm!”




                             CHAPTER XIV.

                          OUT OF THE DEPTHS.


Smiling in the face of death, Señor Zorro yet battled to keep from
showing his genuine emotions, because of the presence of the _señorita_.
But in that awful moment when he stood upon the plank, looking first at
the evil faces of Barbados and Sanchez, and then at the agonized
countenance of Señorita Lolita Pulido, he knew what torture meant.

It was not that Señor Zorro was afraid of death in itself――a thing that
must come to every human being in the end. But his agony came from a
knowledge of what he would leave behind when he took the plunge into
the sea.

The woman he had hoped to make his bride, his friends, his father,
his estate――he was leaving them all for the Great Unknown. And he was
young, and had not lived his fill of life. Besides, he was leaving the
_señorita_ in grave danger. He could only hope that his friends in the
vessel behind would be able to be of service to her, and that they
would know how to avenge him.

Barbados gave his last mocking laugh, and Señor Zorro felt the plank
tipping. He felt himself losing his balance. The heavy weight on his
wrists was almost bending him backward. He knew how swiftly it would
carry him down into the depths of the sea. Then would come a brief and
useless struggle, he supposed, a moment of horror――and the end!

His eyes met those of the _señorita_ yet again. And then it seemed that
everything gave way beneath him and he shot downward.

There came a splash of water as he struck the surface――he felt its
sudden chill――and then the waves closed over his head. He was a famous
swimmer, but no man can swim with a heavy bar of metal tied to his
wrists, and those wrists lashed behind his back.

Mechanically Señor Zorro protected himself as he struck the water, as
though for a deep dive. He drew air into his lungs until it seemed that
they would burst. He kicked in vain against the down-pulling power of
the heavy weight. Down and down he went into the depths until the light
from the surface faded and he found himself in darkness.

Señor Zorro prayed and worked at the same instant. He jerked his wrists
from side to side behind his back, trying to force them apart. He
expelled a tiny bit of air now and then as he descended, but retained
it as much as possible.

Often he had played at remaining as long as possible beneath water,
but it is one thing to do so when a man has the knowledge that he can
spring to the surface at any time, and quite another when he has reason
to believe that he never will reach the surface again at all.

Yet he continued to struggle as he shot downward. Red flashes were
before his eyes now, and a multitude of faces and scenes seemed to flit
before him.

In that awful instant he relived half his life.

“_Dios!_” he thought. “If this be death――”

Another tug he gave at his wrists. The man who had lashed the heavy
weight there had not done his work well. Perhaps he was too busy
watching Barbados and fearing him. Perhaps he had held a sneaking
admiration for this Señor Zorro, who had offered battle to an entire
ship’s company. However, the rope that held the weight gave a trifle.

Señor Zorro, in his agony, realized that. He tugged again, and then
pressed his palms close together and drew in his wrists as much as
possible. The heavy weight, dragging downward, pulled the loose loop
over the wrists and hands. Zorro felt an immediate relief. He realized
what had happened. And then he began his battle to reach the surface.
The weight was gone, but his wrists were still lashed together behind
his back.

He kicked and struggled and shot upward. He expelled more of the
precious air his lungs retained. His chest was burning, his ears were
ringing, he was almost unconscious because of the pressure of the
water he had been forced to endure.

He saw a glimmer of light, but knew that the surface was yet far away.
And it occurred to him that even the surface did not mean life. For his
wrists were yet bound behind him, and he was miles from the shore.

On he went, up and up, struggling and fighting. He jerked at his wrists
until they were raw and bleeding, but to no avail. Those who had lashed
his wrists had done better than the one who had fastened the weight to
them.

And finally he gave a last struggle, a last kick, and felt the blessed
air striking upon his face.

He fought to get into the proper position for resting as much as he
could. He kept afloat, and he drew in great gasps of air, and finally
reduced his breathing to normal. And then, as he rose on the crest of a
wave, he looked around as well as he could.

The pirate ship was some distance away, sailing slowly before a gentle
breeze. Señor Zorro found himself floating in her wake. He could
see men rushing around her deck and up into her rigging, but at the
distance could not guess their tasks.

The wave dropped him and lifted him again, spinning him halfway around.
Señor Zorro gasped at the risk of swallowing a portion of salt water.
Bearing down upon him was the other craft, the one with the gigantic Z
up on the sail. Zorro saw that he was directly in her path.

Not much hope burned in his breast, yet the spirit of combat still
lived. He would not give up so long as there was the slightest chance.
He would fight――fight――until, exhausted, he sank for the last time
toward the bottom of the sea.

Those on the approaching ship did not see him, for they were watching
the pirate craft and preparing for the battle that was to come.

He hailed those on board, but his voice was drowned by the roar of the
water against the schooner’s bows. He saw that she would strike him,
and kicked frantically to work himself to one side of the track she was
following. Another glance ahead at the pirate craft convinced him that
the schooner would not change her course.

Once more he tugged at his bonds, to no avail. He felt himself drawn in
toward the schooner’s bows, and fought against the pull of the water
helplessly. He was picked up, hurled forward, whirled around. Had he
saved himself from the depths, he wondered, to be crushed senseless by
the bow of the craft that carried his friends? Then she was upon him.
He rose with the crest of a wave and was hurled at the bow.

He saw an anchor chain that was loosely looped and a dragging line.
If he could but catch one of those and make his way to the deck,
there might be some chance. Once more the sea whirled him and cast
him forward. He came against the swinging loop of anchor chain with a
crash, grasped it, was lifted and dropped, but held on!

For a moment he rested, panting, realizing how precarious was his
position. He threw one leg around the swinging chain. How to reach the
bowsprit he could not fathom. Those above would pay no attention to
him, and could not hear him if he hailed. And to climb that swinging
loop of chain would be a task for an athlete with his hands unbound.

The bow of the ship dipped, and Señor Zorro felt himself soused beneath
the water for an instant. He gripped the chain with his hands and his
leg and fought to maintain his position. His arms were aching, and the
chain had cut through his clothing already and was chafing at his leg.
Once more the bow dipped, and Zorro slipped a few feet along the chain,
unable to stop his descent.

He gripped with his leg again. His hands came to a stop, and he
realized that the rope that bound them had found an obstruction. Zorro
worked slowly and carefully with his fingers, even as he held on. One
of the links of the chain, he found, was imperfect, had cracked, and
presented on one side a jagged edge.

Hope sang in his breast once more. But he knew that he would have to
work carefully. He did not dare release his hold entirely, for a sudden
dip of the bow and the quick wash of the water would be enough to
sweep him from the chain. But he sawed back and forth as well as he
could, pulling the rope across the rough edge of the chain link.

He glanced ahead. The ships were not far apart now, and the schooner
swung a bit to starboard, so as to bear down upon the pirate craft
from a more advantageous angle. Zorro worked frantically, and after a
time he felt the rope give. His wrists were raw and paining. His leg
was bleeding already. There were pains in his head, and his vision was
imperfect, but hope sang within him once more.

He sawed and sawed, and once more he glanced ahead. It would not be
long now before the ships clashed. He wanted to be up on the deck,
normal breath in his nostrils and the sword of Zorro in his hand, to
aid his friends, to fight his way to the deck of the pirate craft and
to the _señorita’s_ side.

The rope gave again. Señor Zorro was forced to rest for a moment,
leaning back on the chain. A wave swept him to one side, and he thought
for an instant that he was gone. But he regained his balance and
continued his sawing.

And presently he knew that he was free. The rope dangled from one wrist
only. He gave an exclamation of delight and thanks, gripped the chain,
and turned over. He regarded his bleeding wrists, hesitated a moment,
gathered breath and courage, and commenced the perilous ascent of the
chain.

It was a painful and difficult task. Señor Zorro set his teeth into
his lower lip and struggled upward foot by foot. The swinging chain,
slippery, from the sea, threatened to pitch him back into the water.
Every few feet he was obliged to stop, to gasp for breath and close his
eyes for a moment because the pain in his wrists and leg made him weak
with nausea.

He came within a short distance of the vessel, slipped back, and forced
his way upward again. And finally he grasped with one hand the chain
port and held on. His hope had increased now. Nothing would make him
loose his hold, he told himself.

A moment he rested, then forced his way upward again. The schooner was
very close to the pirate ship now. On the deck above him Señor Zorro
could hear Don Audre Ruiz shrieking instructions to the _caballeros_
and the captain shouting to his crew.

He managed to get up to the butt of the bowsprit, and there, safe
from the sea, he rested for a moment again. The two ships would crash
together in a minute or so, he saw. He raised his head weakly, and took
a deep breath, and then struggled to his feet, ready to spring down to
the deck.

His hand went down to whip the sword of Zorro from its scabbard. The
schooner yawed suddenly as her helmsman fought to get a position of
advantage. The big jib swung back, whipped by the angry wind.

Señor Zorro was looking down at the deck, and he did not see his
danger. Don Audre Ruiz turned at the instant, shrieked, and rubbed his
eyes.

“Zorro!” he cried.

He was seen from the deck of the pirate craft, too.

Barbados and Sanchez caught sight of him. Sanchez crossed himself
quickly, and the face of Barbados turned white.

And then the jib cracked against Señor Zorro’s body, knocked him from
his precarious perch, and hurled him once more into the sea!




                              CHAPTER XV.

                         A SHOW OF GRATITUDE.


The schooner sailed on, and came against the pirate ship with a crash.
But here was a battle unlike the usual one when honest men met pirates.
As a usual thing, the pirates could be expected to board and slay
without mercy, to loot, and then either to destroy the ill-fated vessel
or take it away a prize. And the honest men could be expected only to
offer what defense they could. But here was a case where the honest men
were more than willing to carry the fight to the pirates. For Don Audre
Ruiz and his _caballero_ friends had seen Señor Zorro walk the plank,
and also they fought to rescue a lady.

But both forces found themselves disconcerted at the outset. Don Audre
Ruiz, glancing toward the bow of the schooner, was sure that he saw
Señor Zorro standing there against a background of sky and water, his
figure dripping. He rubbed his eyes and looked again――and Señor Zorro
was gone!

“’Tis the spirit of Zorro come to aid us!” Don Audre cried. “I saw him
for a moment, waving his hand at me and reaching for his blade! The
spirit of Zorro fights with us!”

The _caballeros_ were not certain what he meant, but they cheered
his words and rushed toward the rail, their gleaming blades ready to
be dyed a crimson. Fray Felipe knelt beside the mast in prayer. But
Sergeant Gonzales, standing with his feet wide apart and his sword in
his hand, stared foolishly toward the bow and gasped his astonishment
and fear.

“I saw him!” the sergeant shrieked. “I saw Don Diego, my friend! By the
saints――”

The ships crashed together. But the pirates did not rush as was their
custom. For fear had clutched at their superstitious natures, even as
it had clutched at Barbados and Sanchez, his evil lieutenant. Sanchez
had shrieked the news, but Barbados did not heed his intelligence.
Barbados himself had seen Señor Zorro standing against the sky. And how
may a man do that when he has been sent to the bottom of the sea with a
heavy weight fastened to him?

“Fiends of hell!” Barbados screeched. “This Zorro must be a demon!”

“We cannot fight against ghosts!” Sanchez cried. “We are lost before we
commence.”

Barbados seemed to come to himself and shake off his terror in part.
He instantly was eager to win free from the trading schooner. He did
not fear the _caballeros_, who were greatly outnumbered now, but he did
fear the supernatural. He forgot the chance for murder and loot, and
wanted only to get away.

Barbados shrieked his commands, and the half-stupefied pirates ran to
execute them. The pirate craft swung away from the schooner, so that
men could not spring from one ship to the other. There were less than
half a dozen clashes of blades; less than half a dozen minor wounds.

Slowly the pirate craft fell away. The helmsman of the schooner worked
frantically to bring his ship back into the wind. The _caballeros_ and
the members of the schooner’s crew waited, eager for the two ships to
come together again, that they might engage the pirates and fight to
victory.

Barbados howled more commands. From the pirate ship came a rain of fire
balls, and flaming torches were hurled. It was a favorite pirate trick,
and the men knew what their commander wanted. Clouds of pungent smoke
rolled across the deck of the schooner.

The _caballeros_ gasped and fought to get to the clean, pure air. Their
nostrils and throats were raw, their eyes stinging.

Through the dense smoke they could see little. The pirate ship
gradually was lengthening the distance between her and the trading
schooner. The pirates’ work had been done.

For the sails of the schooner were wrapped in flames, and bits of them
fell, burning, to the deck below. Flames licked at the tarred rigging
and spread out on the spars.

“She’s making away!” Don Audre Ruiz cried. “She’s running from us!”

There seemed to be no question about it now. The pirates were hurrying
away without giving battle. And the raging _caballeros_ wanted battle,
and they remembered that the _señorita_ was yet on the pirate craft.

The captain was howling to his crew, and the men were fighting the
raging flames. The _caballeros_, forgetting their silks and satins and
plumes, ran to help. Here was a foe more formidable than pirates of the
open sea.

The schooner drifted with the water and the wind in the wake of
the pirate ship. The smoke drifted away, and finally the fire was
extinguished. Quick inventory was taken of the damage.

It did not amount to so very much, since the rigging had not been
burned to a great extent. But the sails were gone, for the greater
part, and pursuit for the moment at an end.

Again the captain shouted his commands, and as his men hurried to carry
them out he turned to Don Audre.

“I have other sails, _señor_,” he explained. “They will be in place as
rapidly as my men can get them there. The craft of ill-omen cannot get
far before we are upon her heels again. She is running out to sea once
more. She would lose sight of us before she turns toward the accursed
spot where they have their land rendezvous. Their behavior astounds me;
they acted as if they had seen a ghost!”

“And so did I!” Don Audre declared. “I’ll swear that, for an instant, I
saw Señor Zorro standing at the butt of the bowsprit――and then he was
gone!”

“By the saints, I saw him myself!” Sergeant Gonzales shouted. “He was
here to aid us! Man or spirit, I know not――but he was here! And now he
has disappeared!”

Fray Felipe came toward them. “It cannot be that he is alive and
aboard,” he told them, “else he would discover himself to us at once.
Perhaps it was but a strong hope that caused you to imagine the sight.”

“_Fray_, I swore friendship with you, but I’ll break the compact if you
say such a thing again!” Sergeant Gonzales declared. “I saw him, I say!
Man or spirit, I know not――but I saw him!”

The _caballeros_ were busy helping the crew with the new sails. One by
one they were sheeted home, and presently the schooner gathered headway
once more. On it sailed, in the wake of the pirate craft, vengeance
only delayed.

Far behind, Señor Zorro watched her grow smaller and smaller, and the
flare of hope that had been in his heart dwindled to a mere spark again.

His unexpected plunge into the sea before he had recovered from the
first ordeal had unnerved him for the moment. He had come to the
surface to find that the schooner had drifted away. Before he could
handle himself to advantage she was at some distance, and the pirate
craft was drawing away from the ship of smoke and flame.

There was a strong tide running, and Señor Zorro was too weak to fight
against it. Near him there drifted a spar that had been torn away when
the ships had crashed together. He struggled through the swirling water
and managed to reach it, and drew himself upon it to sprawl there
almost breathless, gasping, exhausted. He was too weak to signal his
friends, and he doubted whether they would see him did he do so.

Shouting would be a waste of breath, he knew; and so, stretched across
the spar, he fought to keep his consciousness, closing his eyes and
forcing himself to breathe normally. When some strength had returned to
him he sat upright and looked across the sea. The pirate craft was in
the distance. The schooner, the fires extinguished, some of her sails
in place, was drawing away from him rapidly. Señor Zorro gave thanks
for that――his friends were not deserting the _señorita_.

He began to take stock of his predicament. Far away he could see a
dirty streak on the horizon, and he knew it for the land he would have
to reach.

He was in sore condition for the hazardous journey. His wrists were raw
and bleeding; his leg pained him. He scarcely could see because of the
glare of the sun on the water. Thirst tortured him; hunger added to the
torture.

Señor Zorro sat up on the spar and smiled a sorry smile. He made sure
that his blade still remained at his side.

“Sword of Zorro, we are in a sorry state!” he declared. “This is an
emergency such as never have we faced before. But we must win through!”

A moment he hesitated, and then, as though to give courage to himself
he raised his voice again, this time in his song:

    “_Atención!_ A _caballero’s_ near――”

But his voice broke, and he told himself that he was a fool to attempt
to sing out there in the wild waste of waters, clinging to a spar. Far
better to concern himself about getting to the land.

Señor Zorro rested a short time longer, watching the disappearing
ships. And turning, he looked at the distant land.

“Sword of Zorro, we travel toward the east!” he announced. “If ever
I touch dry land again, there I remain for some time to come. This
seafaring is a sorry business!”

But he said that merely to amuse himself, of course. He would fare
forth, to sea again at any time to rescue the Señorita Lolita, and well
he knew it. He only hoped that Don Audre Ruiz and the others would be
of service to her.

He adjusted himself as well as he could, and started to swim, clinging
to the spar. That rendered his progress slow, but he did not dare cast
it aside, for he knew that he never would reach the distant land. For
a time he swam, and then he floated on the spar and rested, and then
urged himself to swim again. On and on through the hours, while the sun
traveled across the heavens, he forced the spar through the water.

It seemed to him that he was nearing the land, but he could not be
sure. There might be a treacherous current in these waters, against
which he was expending his strength in vain. But he did not stop.

His mind was a maelstrom, his muscles acted mechanically. Now and
then pains shot up his legs and along his back, and often he swam for
minutes at a time with his eyes closed. He watched the sun begin its
descent toward the sea, and yet he swam.

At times songs rang through his brain, at other times he caught himself
mouthing meaningless phrases. And then he thought of the Señorita
Lolita, and swam on.

Twilight came. The sun disappeared. There was a period of darkness, and
then the surface of the sea was touched with the glory of the moon.
Señor Zorro could not see the land now, but he knew in which direction
it lay, and swam on, a few minutes at a time.

And thus passed the night. But before the dark space just before the
dawn, Señor Zorro was laughing raucously, out of his wits. Some god of
good fortune kept him swimming in the proper direction. And when the
sun appeared again, it brought a new agony to his eyes, new tortures of
thirst. He swallowed salt water and spat it out, and found that it had
made him ill. For a time he was stretched across the spar, weak, sick,
on the verge of delirium.

He fancied that a myriad of pirate vessels were about him, bearing
down upon him. He saw the pretty, laughing face of the Señorita Lolita
in the mist that hung above the sea. He laughed back at her, and once
again his cracked voice rose in a song:

    “_Atención!_ A _caballero’s_ near――”

He felt himself grow suddenly weak. It seemed to him that the land was
near at last, but he could not be sure. He drew himself upon the spar,
sprawling across it.

“Must――rest――” Señor Zorro gasped.

And with the gasp he passed into unconsciousness.

Back to earth he struggled as through a land of hideous dreams. He
tossed and groaned and tried to open his eyes, but felt that he could
not. There seemed to be a roaring in his ears that was not of the sea.
And finally it came to him that it was a human voice, attempting to
beat through his unconsciousness and bring him to an understanding of
things.

“_Señor! Señor――_” the voice said.

Señor Zorro struggled yet again, groaned once more, and opened his
eyes. But not into the burning glare of the open sea! He was in cool
shade, he found, and from a distance came the hissing of the surf. He
blinked his eyes rapidly, felt something at his lips, and drank deeply
of pure, cold water.

“_Señor!_” There was the voice again. “For the love of the saints,
_señor_, come back to life!”

Full consciousness returned to him in a breath. He opened his eyes
wider and struggled to sit up. Then he saw that he was in some sort of
a poor hut, and that a native was beside him, with an arm beneath his
shoulders.

“Ha!” Señor Zorro gasped.

“Thank the saints, _señor_!” the native cried.

Señor Zorro, with the help of the native, sat up. He had been stretched
on a sort of couch, he found. He glanced around the interior of the
poor hut, through the open door at the sparkling sea.

“What――” he began.

“I found you yesterday, _señor_, far out to sea, riding on a piece of
wreckage,” the native said. “You had lost your wits. You fought me when
I tried to take you into my boat, and tried to draw blade against me.
Then you went unconscious, and I had my way with you.”

“And――and then?” Señor Zorro gasped.

“Why, _señor_, I fetched you here!” the native explained. “And
throughout the night you raved, and so far to-day. The sun has but two
more hours to live.”

“More water!” Zorro commanded.

The native gave it him. He drank deeply, stood up, walked to the door
and looked out. There was no other habitation as far as he could see.

“Where is this?” Zorro asked.

“On the coast, _señor_, far to the south of Reina de Los Angeles. I am
but a poor neophyte who eats what fish he can catch. Once I worked on a
_hacienda_, _señor_, but the governor took all for taxes.”

“I know,” Señor Zorro told him.

“And so I got me a boat and came down the coast and built this poor
house. And here I live alone and am happy. There are times when I carry
fish to the stronghold of the pirates, and trade them for some other
things――”

“Ha!” Zorro cried. “The stronghold of the pirates? Where is that?”

“Less than ten miles down the coast, _señor_, in a little bay. There
are huts, and women and children, and every now and then the pirate
ship puts in after a raid. They are safe there, _señor_, though they
are within eight miles of the _presidio_ of San Diego de Alcála.”

“By the saints!” Zorro swore. “And how does it come that you did not
rob me of my sword and the few things of value upon me, and toss me
into the sea?”

The native looked at him frankly. “Pardon, _señor_,” he said, “but I
never would do such a thing as that. For I knew you instantly, _señor_.
You are Señor Zorro, who rode up and down El Camino Real and avenged
the wrongs of the natives and _frailes_. You once punished a soldier
who beat my father. If it is necessary, _señor_, I am ready to die that
you may live.”

“And now――”

“Now,” the native interrupted, “it would be best for the _señor_ to
sit and rest, while I prepare some hot food. Then whatever he commands
shall be done.”

“There was a pirate ship in the offing, and another,” Zorro insinuated.

“_Sí, señor!_ The pirate ship ran from the other, going out to sea. But
a short time ago I saw her pass, going toward the bay where the pirates
have their headquarters. And the other ship passed but a short time
ago, pursuing.”

“By the saints!” Zorro cried. “I would go to this pirates’ den of which
you speak, and as speedily as possible.”

“The _señor_ must eat first, so that he will have strength,” the native
said, firmly. “Then I will guide the _señor_ to the spot. It is ten
miles, and the _señor_ is a weak man.”

“I will eat the food gladly,” Zorro replied. “Do you prepare it as
speedily as possible. There shall be an ample reward.”

“It is reward enough that I have been able to save the _señor’s_ life,”
the native answered. “The friends of Señor Zorro do not forget what he
did for them!”




                             CHAPTER XVI.

                          SINGING CABALLEROS.


Barbados was like a maniac after the pirate craft swung away from
the trading schooner. He shrieked at his men to make sail, and they
needed but little urging. The fear of the supernatural was upon them,
superstition ruled their minds.

Gradually they crept away from the schooner, but Barbados continued to
watch her closely. He saw the new sails going aloft, and realized that
there would be a pursuit. So he turned out to sea and began running for
it.

He did not attempt to explain things to himself. He knew that his men
outnumbered those on the schooner, and he felt reasonably sure that, in
an engagement, the pirate crew would emerge victorious. Yet something
seemed to tell him that the proper thing was to avoid the engagement
if possible.

“We will lose that sorry craft in the wide waters,” he told Sanchez,
“and then we will turn and go to the rendezvous. There we’ll unload and
apportion the loot, and care for the wench until the man comes to claim
her. If we are followed, we can outfight the _caballeros_ on land. The
ghost of a man drowned in the sea is powerless on land, I have heard.”

“And, if they follow us ashore――” Sanchez questioned.

“Then we fight them, fool,” Barbados said. “You are still shaking like
a child! A pirate――you? Ha! By my naked blade, you are no better than a
woman in this business!”

“Men are men, but it is not in my mind to fight with ghosts,” Sanchez
told him. “We are bedeviled for some reason!”

“Ha!” Barbados gasped. “That reminds me!” He turned away and walked the
length of the deck, and finally came across the man he sought, and drew
him aside. “You have the thing yet?” he asked.

“The goblet? _Sí, señor!_ If the captain wishes it――”

“Do not even show it to me!” Barbados commanded. “I would have you
toss it into the sea, save that such an act might bring worse luck
yet. So long as you retain it, perhaps you draw all the ill fortune to
yourself. Spawn of hell, if ever you come face to face with that old
_fray_, in flesh or in spirit, have a look to yourself! For you have
done an evil thing!”

Barbados passed on, and descended to the cabin where Señorita Lolita
had been returned a prisoner.

She was as a woman stunned. She had fainted when Señor Zorro had
plunged into the sea, and Sanchez had carried her below. And when she
regained consciousness she remained on the bunk and groaned and prayed
by turns.

And now, when Barbados opened the door, she sat up quickly, a look of
agony in her face. One thing she had done――picked up from the floor
of the cabin the dagger that had belonged to the man Señor Zorro had
slain through the crack. She had cleaned it, and thrust it in the bosom
of her dress, where it was out of sight, but where she could reach it
instantly.

Barbados looked at her for a moment, and then spoke.

“In your right mind again, eh wench?” he said. “We are running away
from your friends, and there can be no hope of rescue. It would be
proper for you to make the best of it. The man for whom we have stolen
you perchance will be kind.”

“Foul beast and murderer!” the _señorita_ said.

“Ha!” Barbados gasped. “I have been called worse things than
that――things that you do not know exists, wench! Think you to hurt my
tough hide with words?”

“Have you no manhood?” she asked. “Is it an honor for a score of men to
take a girl captive? You struck down my father and burned my home! You
sent to his death the man I love――”

“There are other men,” said Barbados, “and other homes. And I did not
strike down your father――Sanchez did that. From what he tells me, the
blow was not a fatal one.”

“You are the chief of murderers and thieves, the one responsible,” she
said.

“Words do not hurt my tough hide, I have said. It were best for you to
be calm.”

“Calm?” The _señorita_ crept from the bunk, weak and staggering, her
face white, her lips trembling, a suspicion of tears in her eyes.
“Calm?” she repeated. “And how can you expect me to be calm? What is
there in the future for me, save dishonor or death? When the moment
comes, it will not take me long to choose!”

“Ha! When the moment comes, you may change your mind!”

“He whom you sent to death in the sea was worth ten score of you!” she
cried, stepping closer to him. “And each of his friends who follow in
that other ship are worth ten score of you! Do you think that you can
escape them forever?”

“I can have them wiped from the face of the earth!” Barbados replied.

“Escape them, possibly――but not me!” she cried. “I have seen you kill
the thing I love! And so――”

She clutched at her breast and drew forth the dagger. She gave a cry of
rage, and struck out wildly. Barbados, caught unaware, lurched quickly
to one side, but the blade struck his arm and tore away flesh and skin
and brought a gush of blood.

“By my naked blade――” he swore.

He whirled as she struck again and missed, grasped her, and tore the
dagger from her hand. He tossed her back upon the bunk, where she
braced herself against the wall, gasping, weeping, expecting that now
he would make an end of her.

But the pirate chief merely slipped the dagger into his belt, glanced
at his wounded arm, swore again, and then stepped back to the door.

“A wench with spirit, eh?” he said. “Ha! I would not be this Captain
Ramón and have the taming of you! Glad will I be when I turn you over
to him! I have battles enough on my hands without fighting women! I’ll
send a man soon with food. Such a female warrior must eat to conserve
her strength!”

He laughed at her, mocked her, went out and closed the door, and
she heard the heavy bar shot into place and the sounds of his feet
retreating. She collapsed on the bunk and gave way to a tempest of
tears.

“Diego!” she breathed. “Diego, beloved!”

Barbados ascended to the deck, bathed the wound in his arm, and said
nothing when Sanchez questioned him. Throughout the day he gave his
attention to the sailing of the ship, but he could not shake off the
schooner which followed.

Then came the night, and once more Barbados cursed the bright moon.
For, though his craft showed no lights, yet could she be seen from the
schooner. Back and forth Barbados sailed, but always failing to shake
off the other ship. And when there came the dark hour before dawn he
changed his course abruptly, and ran before the breeze.

But when the dawn came there was the schooner, a greater distance
away, but still in sight. And so Barbados put off to sea again, for
he wished, if it were possible, to go to the land rendezvous without
drawing his foes there. Else he slew all of them, news of the pirates’
headquarters would leak out, and they would have to move.

He ran before the wind, he tacked, he beat in toward the shore, out to
sea, to the north and the south and the west. Now he gained, and now
the schooner gained upon him. He cursed and drove his men, but they
could accomplish nothing.

And finally he started running down the coast, intent upon reaching
the rendezvous. If the men of the schooner dared follow him to land,
they would be annihilated, he promised. Once or twice he felt like
turning and forming an attack, but thoughts of the ghost of Señor Zorro
deterred him.

“A sea ghost cannot fight on land!” Barbados told himself. “On land I
have them at my mercy!”

The day started to die, and the pirate craft rushed down the coast with
the schooner in close pursuit. It was almost nightfall when Barbados
and his men guided the ship into the little bay. The schooner was some
miles behind.

The anchor dropped, the ship swung broadside to the shore. From the
land came sounds of a tumult, and down into the surf rushed men and
women and children. The pirates’ stronghold could be seen back some
distance from the water.

There was a wide expanse of beach, a deep open space fringed with
stubby trees and brush. Hills landlocked the scene. A score of huts
dotted the edge of the flat. Fires were burning on the shore, stock ran
wild among the habitations.

Overside went the boats, and the pirates commenced handing down the
loot. Shrieks and calls came from the women and children on the shore,
from the men who had been left behind as guards.

Barbados went ashore in the first boat, and began issuing his commands.
The camp was to be put in a state for defense, he explained. Guards
were to be established on the three land sides, and other men would
watch the sea. The ship was warped closer to the shore, so that she
could be defended easily.

Just as the night descended, the trading schooner sailed across the
mouth of the bay, and presently she returned, farther out to sea.
Barbados boarded the ship again, and took the _señorita_ from her
cabin. Sanchez lashed her wrists behind her.

“You go ashore, wench!” Barbados said. “And there you are to be held
until such a time as this Captain Ramón comes to claim you. Why he
should want you is more than I can explain to myself. You are a pretty
wench, it is true, but too much of a spitfire!”

He watched her closely when she was in the boat. And when they landed
the pirates’ women and the ragged children rushed forward to jeer at
her as she passed beside the flaming fire. Barbados took her to a large
adobe building, the best structure in the camp. He opened the door and
thrust her inside.

A woman cooking over an open fire whirled to look at him. She looked at
the _señorita_, too, and her eyes flamed.

“What is this?” she demanded, her fists against her hips. “Is it a
younger and prettier woman?”

“It is, indeed, Inez,” Barbados laughed. “She is a share of the loot!”

“Your share, eh? And you dare to fetch her here?”

“Why not?” Barbados asked.

“To my face?” the woman screeched. She was of middle age, a creature
hideous in a way. “So! It has come at last, has it? I am to be tossed
aside for a comely wench you have stolen from some rich _hacienda_!”

“Jealousy is a foolish thing,” Barbados observed. “Think you, Inez, to
hold my love for life?”

“None other shall have it!” the woman screeched. She flashed forward,
her hand raised to strike, her nails ready to tear into the _señorita’s_
fair face. But Barbados seized her and tossed her roughly aside.

“Peace!” he cried. “I want none of the wench! She is to be kept a
prisoner until claimed. A share of the loot she is, but not my share.
She was stolen for a great man!”

“This is the truth?” the woman asked.

“Do I generally speak falsehood?” Barbados thundered. “Enough! Put her
in the storeroom, and feed her well. Treat her gently. She must be in
prime condition when she is claimed. We were followed by a schooner
upon which are _caballeros_ striving to rescue her. She must not be
rescued!”

The woman grinned horribly. She opened the door of a room adjoining and
motioned for the _señorita_ to enter. She stepped aside, and Lolita
Pulido, looking straight ahead, her eyes fixed and glistening, went
into the storeroom without speaking, her head held proudly.

Barbados hurried outside again. The black night had descended, but soon
the moon was shining. Guards were sent into the fringe of woods, and a
watchman to the summit of a hill in the rear. Men were posted on the
ship, men walked around the huts, alert, ready to repel an attack.

But there came no attack during the night. The trading schooner had run
down the coast and back, and then anchored two miles north of the bay.

“I know the place,” the captain told Don Audre Ruiz. “Once some years
ago I ran in there during a storm. Their camp must be in the open, and
there will be no advantage in the attack. There can be no surprise, of
course.”

“What is your good advice?” Don Audre asked.

“That you land here with your _caballeros_, approach the camp and wait
for the dawn. I’ll land as many of my crew as can be spared from the
ship, and let them circle the camp to attack from the other side. There
must be men enough held here to get the schooner to sea for a run if
the pirate craft comes out at us.”

“That is agreed!” Don Audre said.

“But it will be a sorry business, Don Audre! You will be outnumbered
three to one. And you may be sure that there are men in the camp who
were not on the pirate ship. They may have a few pistols they have
captured from ships, but it will be hand to hand work with blades.
Three to one, at least, Don Audre!”

Don Audre Ruiz drew himself up. “Three beasts to one _caballero_,” he
said. “It is an equal affair. There can be no hesitating, _señor_.
Señorita Lolita Pulido is held a captive by those beasts. And I am not
forgetting what happened to Don Diego, my friend! There is but one
thing to do――attack! At least, we can die!”

There was a short conference, and then the boats began carrying the
men to the shore. The _caballeros_ approached to within a mile of the
pirate camp and stopped to rest, sending scouts on ahead. The men of
the crew circled to the other side.

Some of the _caballeros_ slept, sprawled on the sand. But Don Audre
Ruiz sat beside a tiny fire he had kindled, his knees drawn up and
nursing them with his hands.

“At least we can die, Diego!” he said, softly. “And we can strive
mightily before we do that!”

The black hour came, and then the first finger of the dawn. Don Audre
arose and stretched himself, and walked for a time up and down the
beach. The _caballeros_ shook off their sleep, bathed their faces at
the edge of the sea, exercised their muscles, whipped out their blades
and fanned the air.

Sergeant Gonzales, who had snored throughout the night, snorted as
he bathed his face and hands, and then strode down to Don Audre and
confronted him.

“_Señor_, you are in command of this enterprise,” the sergeant said.
“There are orders?”

“Only that every man is to do his best,” Don Audre replied. “The
_señorita_ is to be rescued if it is possible, and returned to the
schooner.”

“And the pirates are to be hanged?”

“Any that do not fall by our swords and are captured.”

“Ha! It is a nuisance to hang a man!” Gonzales declared: “We would have
to go to the ship for a rope. The blade is better! Fray Felipe!”

“_Señor?_” the fray questioned. He approached them.

“You are yet my friend,” Gonzales said. “If you get into the thick of
it, stand you behind me, that I may protect you. But a battle is not a
place for a _fray_. Stay you behind, and say your prayers!”

“There is the matter of the goblet,” Fray Felipe replied, softly.

“By the saints, I take it upon myself to get the goblet for you,
_fray_!”

“Do so, and I call you son!”

Sergeant Gonzales bared his head for an instant. He looked at Fray
Felipe as though embarrassed, and then returned his hat to his head and
gulped. “I have been an evil man in my time,” he said, “but I trust
that the saints will forget it for this day at least. I would have
added strength to this good right arm of mine! Don Audre, I am ready!”

Don Audre Ruiz led the way along the shore. They crept nearer the camp
of the pirates, spread out fan fashion, and approached boldly. They
reached the crest of a slope, and saw the camp spread before them in
the first rays of the morning sun.

The pirates seemed to be more numerous than even Don Audre Ruiz had
expected. It looked to be a hopeless task, this attack. But there was
something to urge them on.

They stopped to look at one another. In silks and satins and plumes
they were, with their jeweled swords at their sides. And before them
the stronghold, with the ragged, dirty pirates there ready to give
battle.

“If Señor Zorro were only here to lead us!” Don Audre Ruiz said, with a
sigh. “But he is not――and let us remember why he is not――and strike the
harder because of our remembrance! If you are ready――”

He whipped out his gleaming blade and waved it above his head, and the
_caballeros_ drew blades in turn, and answered him with their cheers.

And so they advanced to the attack――slowly, carefully, in a perfect
line. And Don Audre Ruiz, because he wanted to give himself and the
others added courage, and because he felt that it was fitting, sang
lustily a song of old:

    “Singing _caballeros_, going forth to die!
       Laughing in the face of grinning Death!
     Facing task that’s hopeless, ready yet to try!
       Singing with the last of earthly breath!”

The _caballeros_ took up the refrain and sang it through to the end,
their voices ringing across the sea and the land. And, the song at an
end, they were grim and silent again, intent upon the bloody business
before them. The pirates were preparing, they could see. In a very few
minutes the clash would come.

And suddenly, from the distance, from the slope between the two
attacking forces, came a solitary voice, also raised in song:

    “_Atención!_ A _caballero’s_ near――”

They glanced up, astounded. Running down the slope toward them came
a figure they knew well. Don Audre Ruiz gave a great cry of joy and
thankfulness. The _caballeros_ cheered, and wept unashamed. For well
they knew the singer and the song.

“Zorro!” they cried. “Zorro!”

And so they rushed to the attack!




       [Illustration: The Further Adventures of Zorro, Part IV]




                             CHAPTER XVII.

                             A WILD RIDE.


The pirates evidently had decided to make the fight at some little
distance from their huts and adobe houses, so they rushed forward,
shrieking their battle-cries, brandishing their weapons, shouting and
cursing to give themselves courage. The great voice of Barbados rolled
out above the din in a multitude of commands. The shrill voice of
Sanchez echoed him.

The _caballeros_ advanced in a perfect line, their shining blades held
ready, grim and silent now, their minds intent upon the bloody business
confronting them. Señor Zorro, they could see, was making his way down
the slope toward them as speedily as possible, shouting that he was
coming, still singing bits of his song between his shouts.

The pirates had a few firearms, but little ammunition for them. And
they were more used to fighting hand-to-hand with naked blades. Yet
they discharged their firearms first as the _caballeros_ advanced, and
took a bloody toll. The _caballeros_ had nothing but their blades, for
they had come from Don Diego Vega’s bachelor supper, and they had worn
no firearms to that affair.

There was a moment of silence pregnant with dire possibilities, the
lull before the storm――and then the two forces met with a crash! Blades
clanged together, men gasped and fought and fell.

The line of the _caballeros_ was broken almost immediately, and each
found himself the particular foe of three or more pirates. Yet they
fought like maniacs, silently at times, right merrily at times, feeling
that they were doomed, but determined to do what damage they could
before the battle went entirely against them.

And then there was a sudden tumult on the opposite side of the pirates’
camp, and into it and among the huts charged the crew of the trading
schooner, the captain at their head.

But the pirates were so great in numbers that they were disconcerted
only for an instant. From the huts and the adobe buildings poured men
Barbados had been general enough to hold in reserve. The crew of the
trading schooner was overwhelmed. The men of the sea fought valiantly,
but they died with their captain.

And now Señor Zorro had reached the bottom of the slope, and, blade in
hand, rushed to join his friends. His sword flashed as he entered the
fight and tried to turn the tide of battle. His shouts rang out above
the bedlam.

“Ha!” he cried. “At the scum, _caballeros_! They cannot stand against
proper men!”

“Ha!” roared the great voice of Sergeant Gonzales, as he fought off
two of the pirate crew with his long sword. “To me, Señor Zorro! We’ll
carve a pathway through the swine!”

But Señor Zorro did not hear him. He had seen that his old friend, Don
Audre Ruiz, was sorely pressed, and he fought his way quickly to Don
Audre’s side. His blade seemed to be half a score as it flashed in and
out and downed one of Don Audre’s opponents. Like a man possessed,
Señor Zorro pressed forward again, straight at the pirates in the
foreground.

    “_Atención!_ A _caballero’s_ near――”

He sang it as he fought, stopping the song now and then for an instant
to grunt as he made an unusually hard thrust. The men before him broke
and fled, and Señor Zorro, with Don Audre at his side, seized the minor
advantage of the moment. The other _caballeros_ rallied and followed.

“The ghost!” one of the pirates shrieked. “It is the ghost from the
sea!”

“Ha!” Señor Zorro cried, and cut down another man. “Ha, scum! So you
fear ghosts? Have at you――”

“Pirates, eh?” Sergeant Gonzales was crying, puffing and blowing out
his great cheeks as he fought. “Stand, pirates, and fight like men! Is
this a fight or a test of speed, dolts and fools? Meal mush and goat’s
milk!”

“A ghost!” another man shrieked.

Barbados whirled around in time to see Sanchez, a look of terror in his
face, about to retreat. He took in the situation at a glance.

“It is no ghost, fiends of hell!” he shrieked at his men. “’Tis this
Señor Zorro somebody has saved from the sea! At him! Fetch him to me
alive! Does a ghost fight with a blade that runs red? Get the fiend!”

His words carried weight. The pirates gathered their courage and surged
forward again. The other men came running from the huts and the adobe
buildings, now that the crew of the trading schooner had been handled.
The _caballeros_ found their line broken once more, found that they
were being scattered.

Still side by side, Señor Zorro and Don Audre Ruiz fought as well as
they could. But here in the open they could not get their backs against
a wall. However, they did the next best thing――they stood back to back
and engaged a circle of foes.

The fight swirled around them. Señor Zorro’s face wore an expression of
anxiety now. He knew, fully as well as did Don Audre Ruiz, that this
wonderful show of courage and blade skill was availing the _caballeros_
nothing. Slowly but surely, the pirates were traveling the road to
triumph.

Señor Zorro was of gentle blood, and could have died as well as the
best of them, a song upon his lips and laughter in his eyes. But he
felt at this juncture that his life was not his own to throw away
recklessly. Did he die with his friends, the _señorita_ would have none
to give her aid.

He would have to live, to win free if the tide of battle was against
him, and then take his chance at being able to return and rescue his
lady. He glanced around quickly as he fought. More than half the
_caballeros_ had been wounded or slain. And still more pirates were
rushing forward, it appeared, with the intention of making an end of
things.

And now there came an added menace. Among the huts there was a
ramshackle corral, in which the pirates had put a number of blooded
horses stolen from _hacienda_ owners. And now some of the fighting
men crashed against the insecure fencing and demolished it, and the
animals, frightened at the din of battle, rushed through the broken
place and into the open.

The fighting men, the clashing of blades, the shouts and screams seemed
to infuriate the beasts. The smell of blood was in their nostrils.
The horses charged wildly through the throng, upsetting _caballeros_
and pirates alike. One noble stallion brushed aside the foes of Señor
Zorro and Don Audre Ruiz, but separated them also. Their enemies rushed
toward them again before they could get together――and they were no
longer back to back.

Their case was desperate now. Each was surrounded and overwhelmed.
Señor Zorro fought with what skill he could, keeping a wide circle with
his flashing blade. He heard the voice of Sergeant Gonzales roaring in
the distance. He heard, also, the thunderous voice of Barbados.

“Alive! Take them alive!” the pirate chief was screeching. “There will
be rich ransom! Ransom and torture! Take them alive, fiends!”

Sanchez echoed the command, and the pirates shrieked in answer that
they understood. And Señor Zorro and his friends understood also.
The pirates would have rare sport baiting _caballeros_ who were not
ransomed speedily enough to suit them. Revenge and profit would be
their lot.

The _caballeros_ wasted no breath in speech. They had heard, and well
they understood the meaning. They fought like maniacs, and maimed and
slew their men. But there was no chance of ultimate victory, for the
numbers against them were too great.

Here and there in the open space a chorus of fiendish shrieks told that
a captive had been taken, his sword whipped from his hand. Señor Zorro
suddenly found himself hard pressed, but fought free and made an effort
to reach the side of Don Audre Ruiz again. But that was no easy feat,
he discovered.

“Get that Señor Zorro!” Barbados was shouting. “A reward to the men who
fetch him to me alive! Ha! This time we’ll make a ghost of him indeed!”

Señor Zorro knew a touch of despair for a moment, but he fought it
off quickly. If he were captured, the Señorita Lolita would have no
protector, and would be at the mercy of these fiends and Captain Ramón.
Were it not better to escape, to make an effort to return later, than
to fight until death at the side of his friend?

“Audre!” he cried.

“_Sí?_”

“Can you win free?”

“The curs surround me!”

“One of us must win free!” Zorro cried. “There is the _señorita_ to be
considered!”

“Get away, Don Diego, my friend!” Audre Ruiz shouted. “Save yourself,
and the saints bless you――”

“I will return!” Señor Zorro shouted the promise. “Let the beasts take
you, Audre! Alive, you may be of some service! Dead――you are gone
forever!”

Señor Zorro did not listen for an answer. Two determined pirates were
before him. But they hesitated in their attack, because they were eager
to take him alive and so gain the reward that Barbados had promised.
And their hesitation gave Señor Zorro the opportunity he desired.

He hurled himself forward, stretched one man on the ground and put the
other in momentary flight. Others rushed at him from the side, and
for an instant, as he turned, he had a vision of Don Audre Ruiz being
disarmed. And then he whirled again, darted swiftly away, fighting to
clear a path.

Down toward him rushed the big stallion, still frightened because
of the din of battle. Señor Zorro swept another man from before him
and sprang at the horse. He went upon the animal’s back, lurched
sickeningly for an instant, and righted himself. His balance regained,
he kicked at the flanks of his mount. It was all that he could do. The
horse was without saddle or bridle, without even a halter.

The animal hesitated, and Señor Zorro kicked again with what strength
he could. And the horse, suddenly terrified, sprang forward like some
supernatural beast. The pirates went down before him and before Señor
Zorro’s blade.

Up the slope the big stallion started, almost running down Sergeant
Gonzales and the pirates who had already taken him prisoner. Past Fray
Felipe he sprang, and Señor Zorro saw the aged _fray’s_ hand raised in
blessing.

Like a wild animal the stallion dashed at a group of the victorious
pirates, who shrieked and scattered to either side. Señor Zorro rode
erect, his sword flashing, and he was laughing wildly, like a man on
the verge of hysterics.

“_Señores!_ Have you ever seen this one?” he screeched.

He leaned to one side as the plunging horse went forward, locked his
heels in the animal’s flanks. He grasped one of the pirates and lifted
him from the ground, whirled him around and sent him flying through
space.

He would have guided the animal back and made an effort to disconcert
his foes further, but the horse could not be guided. And so Señor Zorro
rode on up the slope and away from the pirates’ camp――rode his fiery,
unmanageable mount straight at the fringe of trees on the top of the
hill.

From the distance came Barbados, fiendish, cursing, because the man he
most wanted to capture had made an escape.

And Señor Zorro answered it, also from a distance, with a burst of song:

    “_Atención!_ A _caballero’s_ near――”




                            CHAPTER XVIII.

                        HOPE IS CRUSHED AGAIN.


Señorita Lolita Pulido passed into the store room of the adobe building
with her head erect and a look of pride in her face, as has been said.
But when the heavy door was closed behind her, and she heard a bar
dropped into place, she changed swiftly.

For a moment she leaned against the door, listening to Barbados and
Inez, his woman. Then Barbados went away, and the woman also, and the
_señorita_ dropped upon a stool that happened to be in one corner of
the room, and buried her face in her hands.

There seemed no hope left. Señor Zorro, Don Diego Vega, her beloved,
was at the bottom of the sea, she supposed. She was in the hands of
these pirates, being kept a prize for a man she detested and loathed.
There seemed no way of escape.

But the _señorita_ had determined her course. She would die rather than
be shamed, she told herself. She would join Don Diego in the land of
to-morrow, be his celestial bride. The blood of the Pulidos coursed her
veins, and told her to do that.

It was dark in the store room, but presently the door was opened
and the woman Inez entered with a small torch made of palm fiber
and tallow. She fastened the torch to the wall, went out again, and
returned with food. A jug of water, some poorly cooked goat flesh and
a pulpy mass, the like of which the _señorita_ never had seen before,
constituted the meal.

“Eat, wench!” Inez commanded. “Eat, and drink your fill of the water!
A dainty morsel you are, but there be some men who like women of a
different sort. Ha! ’Twould do you no good to make merry eyes at my
Barbados!”

The _señorita_ scarcely understood, for she had not been taught to make
eyes at any man. She drank deeply of the water, for she was thirsty,
and she wanted to eat, but did not like the appearance of the food.

“Too dainty for pirate fare, eh?” Inez sneered, rubbing her fat nose
with a forefinger. “Wait until real hunger gnaws at your stomach,
pretty wench, and then you’ll eat!”

The _señorita_ got up from the stool suddenly and stepped forward. Her
hands were at her sides, her chin was raised, there was pleading in her
face.

“You are a woman,” she said, softly. “In your heart there must be some
sympathy for other women.”

“Not much,” Inez acknowledged. “Few women have shown sympathy or
kindness toward me. I was a poor girl working on a _hacienda_, and
listened to the lies of a handsome traveler. And when my fault was
discovered it was the women who turned their backs. A woman of your
class, wench, kicked me out!”

“That is the way of the world,” Lolita told her. “Still, you must have
in your breast some inkling of pity. Would see the thing happen to me
that is going to happen if I cannot avoid it?”

“Ha!” Inez laughed. “What would you?”

“Help me get away!” the _señorita_ begged. “Help me to be free, and in
some manner I’ll get up El Camino Real to Reina de Los Angeles. I have
friends. In time I’ll send you more money than Barbados will get from
Captain Ramón.”

“And Barbados would take the money from me, slit my throat, and find
him another woman,” Inez replied, laughing coarsely. “I know nothing of
his business deals with Captain Ramón or any other. Nor do I care to
know them!”

“Have you no pity?”

“I have nothing to do with it,” the woman declared. “I have orders to
give you water and food and a light, and I have done so. That is the
end.”

Before the _señorita_ could speak again the woman had gone out and
closed the door. Señorita Lolita heard the bar dropped into place once
more. She went slowly back to the stool, and managed to eat a few
morsels of the goat’s flesh, after which she drank more of the water.

By the light of the torch she inspected her prison room. There was
nothing in it except some old casks that once had contained olives and
tallow. There was but the one door, and only a single window, and the
window was small and had bars of metal across it.

Escape was impossible, the _señorita_ decided. She went back to the
stool again, and sat upon it and buried her face in her hands once
more. The future seemed to hold nothing but death and disgrace, and she
knew how to choose between them, if the chance was given her.

Tired, exhausted by the events of the day, she found sleep descending
upon her. She left the stool and curled up in a corner on the floor,
determined to keep awake. But she could not. Her head nodded, and after
a time she fell asleep.

A din awakened her. The torch had burned out and the light of day was
pouring through the little window. The little _señorita_ was stiff and
uncomfortable. She got up and hurried to the window, and by standing
upon one of the empty casks managed to peer out of it.

She could see a portion of the camp. The pirates were arming themselves
and rushing here and there like madmen. She could hear the great voice
of Barbados as he issued his commands. And then there was a lull, and
she heard singing in the distance. Another lull and she heard a single
voice raised in song:

    “_Atención!_ A _caballero’s_ near――”

Her heart almost stopped beating for a moment. But in the next instant
she told herself that she had been foolish to hope. It was Señor
Zorro’s song, but he was dead at the bottom of the sea. And other
_caballeros_ knew it. It was some _caballero_ singing in the distance.
But that gave her a small measure of hope, for it meant that Don
Diego’s friends were at hand and would make an effort to rescue her.

There was another time of comparative silence, and then the battle
began. The _señorita_ could see none of it at first, for she was on the
wrong side of the building. But she could hear the shrieks and cries,
the ringing of blades, the screeches of pain and curses of anger.

She saw the crew of the schooner attack from the other side, and
shrieked her horror as the pirates cut them down. And then the fight
was out of her sight again.

Down from the cask she dropped. She ran across to the door and pounded
upon it with her tiny fists, struck it repeatedly, until her hands were
cut and bleeding. After a time it was opened, and the woman Inez stood
before her, thrust her away and entered.

“What is it, wench?” she demanded. “More food and water?”

“No!” she gasped. “I――what is taking place? There is so much
confusion――”

“A battle is taking place, wench!” the woman declared, bracing her
fists against her hips. “Some _caballeros_ came in a ship and saw fit
to attack the camp. Many of them will see nothing more.”

“And――and the battle――”

“How goes it, mean you? Ha, wench! The _caballeros_ are being cut down,
of course. We have them three to one! Some are to be taken prisoners,
some held for ransom, others tortured. It will be a lesson to the
men of gentle blood not to fight with pirates! Gentlemen are only
gentlemen――but men are men!”

“Gentlemen are always gentlemen, and sometimes mere men are beasts,”
the _señorita_ told her.

“How is this? Do you want me to rock your head with a blow, wench? Ha!
There will be rare sport if this Señor Zorro is taken prisoner.”

“Zorro?” the _señorita_ gasped.

“The same, wench! You were to wed with him, I have been told. Ha! He’ll
not be ready for his wedding when Barbados has finished with him!”

“Señor Zorro is dead!”

“I know that he walked the plank. And the fools thought that he was a
ghost when he appeared here. But somebody must have saved him from the
sea. He’s out there now, fighting. They will make a captive of him!”

The _señorita’s_ heart beat wildly. Then it had been Zorro she had
heard singing in the distance!

But in the next instant she told herself that it could not be. Zorro
had walked the plank with a weight fastened to his wrists. The pirates
were mistaken. It was some other _caballero_ who looked like Señor
Zorro, who fought as he fought, and acted as he acted.

She threw aside the momentary hope, and crept toward the woman Inez
again. If the fight was going against the _caballeros_, if the pirates
were to be victors, she had scant time.

The _señorita_ began acting as she never acted before, and though
she was new to the game, her woman’s intuition, her terror and her
desperate need served her well.

“So the pirates are to win!” she said, laughing lightly. “And there
will be a lot of ransom money and loot.”

“How is this?” Inez shrieked. “You, a prisoner, seem joyful that the
rescue is not accomplished.”

“I am a prisoner――_sí_!” the _señorita_ said. “But perhaps I shall be
more soon.”

“What mean you?” the woman gasped.

“Perhaps it might have been in my mind that it would be better to have
a real man than wed a gentleman of noble blood. Is it not peculiar that
Barbados took me the night before my wedding?”

“Ha! Can you speak with plain meaning?” the woman asked.

“Did you believe the story of Captain Ramón?” the _señorita_ demanded.
“I did, too, at first! And then I thought differently. You are getting
old, you see, and fat.”

“Wench!” the woman cried, threatening her.

“If you strike me, Barbados will punish!”

“Barbados punish me? Ha!”

“Are you so easily fooled?” the _señorita_ asked. “It is plain to me
what is to happen. Barbados means to have me for himself. There is no
escape. So I may as well make the best of it. And since I am to be the
woman of the pirate chief, I must be loyal to him. If things must be
so, is it strange that I hope he gets much ransom and loot?”

“By the devils of Hades!” the woman swore. “If I thought this to be
truth――”

“Can you not see that it is?” the _señorita_ queried. “Captain Ramón
may have dealings with Barbados, but it does not follow that Captain
Ramón is to have me. That was just a little falsehood to fool you,
possibly.”

“Ha! So you would take my place?” the woman cried.

The _señorita_ recoiled as the other approached, and held up one of her
hands.

“I have no desire to take your place,” she declared. “But since I
cannot help myself, what else is there to do?”

“I could kill you with my bare hands!”

“And then Barbados would kill you in turn and go find himself another
woman.”

“Ha! I could kill him!”

“You could not!” the _señorita_ said.

The woman Inez was quiet for a moment, and then: “You are right――I
could not,” she replied.

“There is a way.”

“And how, wench?”

“Help me to escape,” the _señorita_ said. “If I am gone, you are in
safe possession of the affections of Barbados. He will not raid again
soon, will not soon have a chance to find him another woman. And you
can, in the meantime, win back his love again.”

“Ha! If I aid you to escape he will kill me!”

“Make it appear that I escaped myself,” the _señorita_ replied. “You
are strong. You can tear out that window until it is large enough
for me to get through. Let him think that there was some tool in the
storeroom and that I did the work.”

“Ha! If I thought you were speaking truth――”

“Very well!” said the _señorita_. “Wait and see whether it is the
truth.”

The woman hesitated, searching the _señorita’s_ face with her keen
glance. Then she grunted and hurried into the other room, while Lolita
Pulido waited in fear and trembling, wondering what was to come now.
Had the woman gone to tell Barbados the story?

But presently Inez returned, and she carried a peculiar strip of iron
with one sharp end, a bit of wreckage, perhaps, from some ill-fated
ship.

“Watch you at the door, on the inside!” she commanded. “Do not go into
the other room. They are still fighting and perhaps there will be time.”

The _señorita_ hurried across to the door, hope singing in her heart
again. There she watched and listened to the din of battle. All would
be well if she could escape in the confusion and get away from the
camp. She could reach El Camino Real and make her way along it. If she
could reach San Diego de Alcála, she would find friends.

She turned and looked at the woman. Inez was tearing out the masonry
and adobe around the window. The metal bars already were inside the
room and out of the way.

“Be quick!” the _señorita_ said. “I am small, and do not need a very
large space.”

“It is done!” the woman replied.

She hurried back to the middle of the room, and the _señorita_ turned
to look. The aperture was large enough, she knew at a glance. She could
crawl through, jump to the ground, go up the slope, and reach the
fringe of trees that she could see in the distance. Once more hope came
to her.

“I must have some old clothes――ragged and dirty clothes,” she said. “I
will leave some of these.”

The woman did not reply, but she hurried from the storeroom with a
gleam of avarice in her eyes. She was more than willing to trade ragged
garments for some of silk and satin.

Back she came, after a time, and the _señorita_ pulled off her gown and
put on the ragged one, shuddering as she did so, not because of the
rags but because of the dirt. She streaked her face with dirt from the
floor, and washed her hands in it, disarranged her hair, and threw a
ragged shawl over her head.

“A woman does not wear a torn shawl, a ragged dress, and fine slippers
at the same time,” Inez observed.

The _señorita_ kicked off her slippers and thrust her feet into the
filthy sandals the hag furnished her. She hurried to the window, the
woman before her. But Inez grasped her by an arm and held her back.

“Not that way!” the woman gasped. “It is too late! That way is guarded!”

The heart of the _señorita_ sank again. She scrambled to the top of the
cask she had used before, and peered out. Within sight there were half
a dozen men guarding that side of the camp against a possible surprise.
If she got through the window they would see her, block her path up the
slope and toward the trees, and investigate.

“Is there no way out?” the _señorita_ cried in despair.

“There is only the front.”

“Then let me out the front way. The men are fighting, and perhaps they
will not notice me if I go out that way, and make haste up the slope.”

“All women and children have been ordered to remain in the huts while
there is fighting.”

“They will do no more than shriek at me to get inside again,” the
_señorita_ said. “I can pretend to be frightened, and run. I can get
away, if you’ll let me out!”

“And I be blamed for it!”

“Not so!” she cried. “Bar this door. I’ll slip out the front, and they
will think that I came around the building. You can pretend that you
believe me to be in the store room. When they open the door and find me
gone, find the window torn out, they’ll think that I did it, and got
out that way. If anybody is punished, it will be the guards outside.”

“I am afraid!” the woman said.

“And are you not afraid, also, of seeing another woman in your place
here?”

The face of Inez grew purple for an instant, and her eyes blazed.
Suddenly she strode across to the door, opened it, and looked out upon
the fighting. She closed the door again, and turned back to face the
_señorita_.

“The fighting now is at some distance,” she said. “There is a chance.
Wait!”

She whirled around to bar the door of the storeroom. The little
_señorita_ waited, trying to be calm, though her heart was pounding at
her ribs. She was to escape at last! She could get up the slope, hurry
through the trees――

“You must use speed!” the woman was informing her. “And if you are
caught, you must take all the blame. Barbados would kill me if he knew.”

“Give me a dagger,” the _señorita_ begged. “Then, if I am caught, I’ll
do that which will render me speechless!”

“Ha!”

“I mean it! Death would be welcome to the other!”

The woman hesitated a moment, and then reached beneath her ragged shawl
and drew a dagger out. The _señorita_ clutched it, and hid it away in
her bosom.

For another moment they faced each other. And then the woman Inez
lurched across the room toward the door, the _señorita_ trotting along
at her heels.

And hope turned to black despair once more in the twinkling of an eye!
For the door suddenly was thrown open, and before them stood――Captain
Ramón!




                             CHAPTER XIX.

                             DOUBLE-FACED.


There was a moment of astonishment for all three of them. Then the
Señorita Lolita gave a little cry of mingled fright and despair, and
recoiled against the wall. Señor Zorro dead, the pirates winning the
battle against the _caballeros_, and before her the man she loathed and
feared! The future seemed very dark, indeed.

“_Dios!_” she breathed.

But the woman Inez, after blinking her eyes at the unexpected
apparition, screeched her rage and darted to a corner, where she picked
up a heavy bar of iron. She whirled toward the intruder, the bar raised
to strike. But Captain Ramón laughed and held up his hand.

“Do not be afraid of me, hag!” he told the woman. “I wear the uniform
of the Governor’s soldiery, it is true, but I am the good friend of
Barbados! I am Captain Ramón, of Reina de Los Angeles!”

“Ha!” the woman gasped. She dropped the bar of iron and stood with arms
akimbo. “So you are Captain Ramón?”

“_Sí!_”

“That must be true, else you would not have lived to get to this
building,” Inez said. “And why are you here?”

“To see the little lady standing behind you,” Ramón said, smiling. “She
has been kept safe, I see.”

“You are to claim her?”

“What else?”

“Ha!” Inez gasped. It flashed through her mind, now, that Barbados
really had no personal interest in the _señorita_, and she believed,
also, that she had almost been tricked into aiding an important
prisoner to escape. A glance at the _señorita’s_ face confirmed her
suspicion, for Lolita was not acting now. Inez realized that she would
have to speak quickly to save herself.

“You come in good time,” she declared to the captain. “The wench has
been kept in the storeroom. But an instant ago, hearing no sounds
within, I unbarred and opened the door. And she had enlarged the
window, and dressed in those rags. She intended escaping, _señor_! Had
it not been for me now she would be gone.”

“You have done well,” Ramón declared. “That is the door to the
storeroom?”

“_Sí!_” Inez answered. She dropped the bar and threw the door open.
Captain Ramón peered inside, then turned and smiled again, first at the
hag, and then at the _señorita_.

“It is indeed well,” he said. “_Señorita_, you might have been injured
on the outside, for men are fighting. And your present garments are
scarce suited to your station in life. Your dainty face is streaked
with dirt, too, and your hands soiled.”

“Your presence soils me more!” the _señorita_ said.

“You prefer pirates, _señorita_?”

“There are several grades of depravity,” she said, “and pirates may not
be the lowest.”

“Ha! A biting tongue in a sweet face!” Captain Ramón declared.

“More biting than the blade you wear at your side, _señor_! Why do you
not show your true colors? Why not go out and fight with your friends,
the pirates and thieves and murderers, against men of gentle blood?”

Captain Ramón bowed in mockery. “If you will be kind enough to glance
through the open door, _señorita_, you will perceive that the fighting
is at an end,” he replied. “What _caballeros_ are not dead have been
taken prisoners. And the women and children are mocking them. Go, hag,
and mock with the others! I’ll guard the _señorita_ well.”

He leered at the woman as he spoke, and she grinned and shuffled from
the building. She was eager to get at Barbados and tell him how the
_señorita_ had attempted an escape, and how she, the loyal and faithful
Inez, had prevented it.

“Into the storeroom, _señorita_!” Captain Ramón commanded when they
were alone.

“I prefer this, _señor_.”

“Quickly!” he commanded. “We’ll close the door. We do not wish to be
overheard!”

“What mean you?”

“Can you not understand?” the captain cried. He thrust her before him
into the storeroom, and closed the door behind him. He darted across to
the window and looked out, acting mysteriously.

“If you would rid me of your foul presence――” the _señorita_ began.

Captain Ramón whirled toward her. On the long, hot ride from Reina
de Los Angeles, which had taken him the better part of two days, and
during which he had not spared mounts, he had thought out everything.

He was playing a sort of double game, this Captain Ramón. He wished
to reinstate himself in the good graces of better men, he wanted to
make the _señorita_ believe that he had rendered her a great service
and try to win her regard openly, and he wished to aid his master, the
Governor, in acquiring credit in the southland, where he had small
credit now.

He had heard, on his way to the pirate camp, that Señor Zorro had
walked the plank. He could take the helpless _señorita_ now for his
own, but if he did that he would have to become a renegade forever,
live like an outcast. And Captain Ramón loved his uniform, and wealth
and power.

So why not play the pirates and honest men against each other and make
a double winning? He had had ample time to think it out. And so, as he
faced the _señorita’s_ scorn, he pretended surprise that she did not
understand.

“Foul presence, _señorita_?” he said. “After I have risked so much to
be of service to you?”

“Of service to me?” she cried. “When I was abducted by your orders,
when my home was burned and my father cut down?”

“Have the beasts told you that?” Ramón asked. “That is because Barbados
knew I was infatuated with you. He believed I would thank him for doing
such a thing.”

“You are allied with pirates!” she accused.

“Listen, _señorita_, for the love of the saints!”

“The saints are better off your lips, _señor_!”

“Attend me!” he commanded again. “It is a game we have been playing.”

“A sorry game!”

“_Señorita_, by your gentle blood I ask you to give me your ear! I have
but pretended friendship with these pirates, that the soldiers may take
them later, and hang them all.”

“What monstrous falsehood is this?” she asked.

“I beg your attention, _señorita_! Some of them may be coming soon.
I have pretended to be in league with them. They raided Reina de Los
Angeles while I and my soldiers were gone. I have followed swiftly to
rescue you. They think that I am a friend. But now, assured of your
safety, I can act speedily. Let them continue thinking, for the time
being, that I accept you as a prize. I shall ride away to San Diego
de Alcála, which is but a few miles, fetch the troopers from there,
rescue you, release the _caballeros_ now held as prisoners, and wipe
out this pirate brood!”

“But why――” she began.

“It was the only way, _señorita_. The soldiers are few, and the pirates
have been able to strike the coast where there were no troopers handy.
It is a trap that we have arranged for them. Perhaps it may not seem a
gentle thing to do――but one cannot be gentle with pirates.”

“I wish that I could believe you,” she said.

“Believe me, _señorita_! I love you so much――”

“I am betrothed,” she said simply.

“But I have grave news for you. I have been told that Don Diego Vega
is no more, that these beasts forced him, as Señor Zorro, to walk the
plank.”

“I was there,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “I saw it.
Nevertheless, I am betrothed to him, _señor_, now and forever, in life
and in death!”

“That is because your grief is new,” the captain said. “You are young,
_señorita_, you have a life to live. If you would live it with me――”

“_Señor!_” she warned.

“I can understand why you dislike me a bit,” he said. “Perhaps, in the
past, I did some things that a gentleman should not do. But it was
because of my great love for you, because I was afraid of losing you.”

“_Señor_, let us talk of other things, if we must talk,” the _señorita_
begged.

“Do you not realize, _señorita_, that, if I wish it, you are in my
power?”

“Now you are showing your true colors!” she said.

“Not so! I am showing you that I am not taking advantage of the
situation,” he declared. “I intend rescuing you and the friends these
pirates now hold as prisoners. I am risking my life to do it. And, if I
succeed, cannot you look upon me with some favor?”

“If I have misjudged you, _señor_, I am indeed sorry,” she replied.
“But it is useless to talk of such things. My heart is with Don Diego
Vega, in life and in death!”

“Perhaps in the future――”

“There can be no hope, _señor_!”

Captain Ramón’s face flushed and his eyes blazed for an instant. But
he still had his game to play, the many-sided game that he hoped would
result in great fortune.

“If you could only believe me!” he said.

“Perhaps――after you have demonstrated your loyalty.”

“Then I go now to talk to Barbados, then to San Diego de Alcála for the
troopers. Guard yourself well until my return. I must pretend that I
wish you watched, kept from escaping. A false move, _señorita_, and all
of us are lost!”

“I can only do as you say,” she said. “I will be guarded in any case.”

“Come into the other room. I’ll call the hag! And I’ll return to you
before I ride for San Diego de Alcála, if there are more plans you
should know.”

Captain Ramón opened the door, bowed low as she passed through it, and
looked after her with the corners of his lips curled. Then he hurried
toward the front, calling for Inez.




                              CHAPTER XX.

                            THE UNEXPECTED.


Captain Ramón bade the woman guard the _señorita_ well, and then
hurried from the adobe building. Just in front of it he stopped to look
over the scene. Dead men were scattered on the ground at a distance.
There were more dead men around the huts, where the crew of the trading
schooner had made their last stand.

The wounded were shrieking and groaning, and some of the pirates were
giving them a rough surgery. Others were hurrying the _caballero_
prisoners toward another adobe building, where they were to be kept.
Women and children ran beside them, shrieking insults, hurling small
stones. But the _caballeros_ held their heads proudly, and laughed and
jested with one another.

Captain Ramón darted to the end of the building, so he would not be
seen by the prisoners. It was not in his mind to be suspected at the
outset. The game he was playing was one of hazard, and he knew that
the slightest mistake would be disastrous.

He had planned with Barbados to conduct the raid, and thereby had
gained the pirate chief’s confidence. And now he had further plans. He
would tell Barbados that he would draw to the camp the troopers at San
Diego de Alcála. Barbados and his men could ambush them and wipe them
out. Then the pirates could cross the hills and raid and loot rich San
Diego de Alcála.

But the captain intended no such thing in reality. Knowing how Barbados
would prepare the ambush, he would lead the troopers in such a manner
that the pirates would be wiped out to a man. Then the _caballeros_ and
the _señorita_ could be rescued, and Captain Ramón would pose as their
heroic rescuer. He hoped in this manner to regain the good will of the
_caballeros_ and a better standing with them, and to earn the gratitude
of the _señorita_ also.

Word of the exploit would run up and down El Camino Real. Men whose
hands were now raised against the licentious and unscrupulous Governor
would think better of him because the pirates had been wiped out. The
Governor, in turn, would be grateful to Captain Ramón. And he would
order Don Carlos Pulido, who was not dead of his wound, to give the
hand of his daughter, Lolita, to Captain Ramón. Don Carlos scarce could
refuse without endangering his fortunes further.

It was a pretty plot, the plot of a master rogue willing to sell
friends and foes alike to advance his own interests. Captain Ramón
grinned as he thought of it, and twirled his mustache, and marched
around the corner of the building and across the open space toward
where Barbados was standing and shouting orders concerning the
disposition of the corpses.

And suddenly the captain found himself confronted by a man, and looked
up quickly to see the burning eyes of old Fray Felipe fastened upon his
face.

“What does an officer of the Governor in such a place, unless he be a
prisoner of war?” Fray Felipe demanded.

Captain Ramón bowed before him. “Perhaps there are things that you do
not understand, _fray_,” he replied.

“And perhaps, _commandante_, there are things that I do understand!”
Fray Felipe said. “Perhaps years of service in behalf of humanity have
taught me to read a man’s face and mind. Rogue, brute, traitor!”

“You are a _fray_, and wear a gown that should be respected, but do not
tempt me too far!” Captain Ramón said angrily. “Say your prayers, and
leave men’s work to men!”

The captain bowed again, walked around the _fray_, and hurried to the
side of Barbados.

“Ha!” the pirate cried. “You must have made haste to get here in such
season.”

“I almost killed two horses,” the captain said.

“In such eager haste to see the wench, eh? And have you seen her?”

“She is safe and sound. She made an attempt to escape, but your woman
stopped her.”

“I wish you joy of the wench. There is too much of the fire of anger
in her makeup to suit me,” Barbados declared, laughing raucously. “She
ripped my forearm with a dagger and killed one of my men aboard ship.
The taming of her will take more than an hour’s time, _commandante_!”

“Leave that to me!” Ramón said. “There are other things to be discussed
now.”

“And what?”

“Step aside!” Ramón commanded.

They walked some distance, to a spot where they would not be overheard.

“You know, certainly, the meaning of all this,” Ramón said. “The
Governor, who hates this southland, is eager to have it troubled as
much as possible, even if he is forced to sacrifice a few of his own
men.”

“_Sí!_” Barbados said, both in question and in affirmation.

“See that the _señorita_ is guarded well, and, in the meantime, before
I think of such things as love, let us attend to more serious business.”

“Is there a chance of profit?”

“How would you like to raid rich San Diego de Alcála when there would
be small danger?”

The eyes of Barbados glistened. He knew a great deal about San Diego
de Alcála. The town was rich, and the mission also. Wealth had been
stored there since the earliest days of the missions.

“Attend me!” Ramón commanded. “You have here certain _caballeros_ held
as prisoners, and the _señorita_ also. I’ll go to San Diego de Alcála
and spread the news at the presidio. I outrank the _commandante_ there,
and my words will be commands.”

“I understand, _capitan_!”

“There are only a few troopers there now, the remainder having been
sent to San Juan Capistrano to put down mutinous natives. I’ll lead
these troopers back to the pirate camp. Do you arrange an ambush at the
head of the little cañon. I’ll lead the men into it. You and your crew
can cut them down. And then the way to San Diego de Alcála will be open
to you!”

“By my naked blade――” Barbados swore.

“You must understand this thing, of course――it must look like a
mistake. No man ever must think that the Governor had a hand in it, or
that I did myself.”

“I understand, _capitan_!”

“Then it is agreed?”

“_Sí!_”

“I’ll have speech with the _señorita_ again, and then ride like the
wind. As soon as I have departed, arrange your men in the ambush. I’ll
return with the troopers before nightfall. You can wipe them out,
attack San Diego de Alcála to-night, return, abandon this camp, and
sail away and establish another on the coast of Baja California. You’ll
have wealth, women; your name will be spoken with respect!”

“_Sí!_” Barbados breathed. “It shall be as you say, _capitan_! And what
share of the loot do you require?”

“Nothing whatever, if you keep the _señorita_ safe for me.”

“She shall be kept safe, I promise you!”

Captain Ramón whirled around and hurried back toward the adobe
building. Inez had the _señorita_ in the front room, guarding her well.
She had just finished a tirade concerning the attempt of the _señorita_
to engineer an escape through cunning words and implications.

Captain Ramón ordered the woman outside, and urged the _señorita_ to go
into the storeroom again.

“It is arranged,” he said. “I ride for San Diego immediately. Do you
continue to remain a prisoner, _señorita_, and save yourself from
harm. Before the fall of night I’ll be back with the troopers, this
pirate brood will be wiped out, and you and the _caballeros_ will be
liberated. Then you can go up El Camino Real to your father.”

“If you accomplish this thing, you shall have my gratitude,” the
_señorita_ said.

“Nothing more than gratitude?”

“I have spoken concerning that, _señor_. There can be nothing but
gratitude.”

Captain Ramón suddenly whirled toward her. “It is something more than
gratitude that I want!” he said. “Is your heart made of ice? Mine is
flaming!”

“_Señor!_”

“What whim is it that makes you cling to the memory of a dead man?” he
asked. “You are young, with a life before you.”

“Please leave me with my sorrow, _señor_!”

“Then I may expect better treatment when your sorrow is somewhat dulled
by time?”

“I am afraid not, _señor_.”

“I risk my life in the service of you and your friends, and am to have
no reward?”

“A man of gentle blood would not think of being rewarded for such a
thing,” she replied.

The face of Captain Ramón flushed and he took another step toward her.
“I am sick of hearing so much of gentle blood,” he said. “Mine is
gentle enough, but it also can be hot at times. Am I a man to brook
such nonsense? You owe me gratitude, and something more! One embrace,
at least, here and now!”

“_Señor!_” she cried.

“Would you be so coy if the cursed Señor Zorro were here to beg a kiss?”

“More insults, _señor_?” she asked, her face flaming.

“Is it an insult for the daughter of an impoverished _don_ to be kissed
by one of his excellency’s officers?”

“And would my father be impoverished were not his excellency a man of
little honor?” she cried. “Poverty does not change the blood, _señor_!”

“More about your gentle blood, eh? And an affront to the Governor in
your words, also? That calls for punishment, _señorita_! One embrace
and then I ride!”

“I would rather die than have you touch me!” she cried. “You show your
true colors again, _commandante_!”

“One embrace, and I make you forget this Señor Zorro!”

“If he were here, _señor_, you would not dare speak so!” she said. “You
would cringe in terror, you who wear the mark of Zorro on your brow! It
was for an insult to me that he put it there! It is like a coward to
attack a helpless girl! If Señor Zorro were here――”

“But he is not here!” Ramón cried, laughing and leering at her. “And
so――”

Again he started toward her, and her hand darted to her bosom to snatch
out the dagger the woman Inez had given her earlier. But she did not
draw out the dagger.

The window behind them suddenly was darkened, and the light shut off.
Into the storeroom plunged a man who struggled to get free from the
woman’s clothes he wore over his own. As Captain Ramón recoiled and the
_señorita_ gave a little cry of fright the intruder’s head flew up.

A blade flashed, the _señorita_ found herself hurled to one side
gently, and Captain Ramón found two eyes blazing into his――the eyes of
Señor Zorro!

“Have you ever seen this one?” Señor Zorro demanded.

And, with his left hand, he slapped the _commandante_ of the _presidio_
of Reina de Los Angeles so that his head rocked!




                             CHAPTER XXI.

                             FACE TO FACE.


Señor Zorro, on the back of the infuriated and unmanageable stallion,
had made his escape easily from the pirate camp. There was no question
of him being overtaken, but for a time there was a grave question of
Señor Zorro stopping the steed he rode.

Over the crest of the slope the animal beneath him plunged down into
a ravine and galloped along it. Señor Zorro sheathed his sword and
held on to the horse’s mane. He bent low to avoid tree branches that
promised to sweep him from the animal’s back.

“_Dios!_” he muttered. “This is as bad as the battle!”

Some distance the frightened horse traveled, and then he made a great
circle and returned toward the pirate camp. But Señor Zorro had no wish
to return there too soon, lest he be captured in the vicinity. And so
he waited until the horse, negotiating a slippery incline, slackened
pace somewhat, and slipped easily from the animal’s back.

The horse plunged on. Señor Zorro picked himself up, observed his
scratches, and made a futile effort to brush his clothing. Then he
walked to the crest of the slope and looked down toward the sea.

He was quite a way from the camp, but he could see it in the distance,
see the dead and wounded on the ground, and a crowd of the pirates,
with their women and children, in front of the adobe building that was
being used as a prison.

Señor Zorro sat down to rest and watch. He knew that he was confronted
by a dire emergency and a tremendous task, but he refused to admit it
to himself. The _señorita_ was down there, and she was to be rescued.
And Don Audre Ruiz and the _caballeros_ were there, to be rescued also.

Señor Zorro, after a breathing spell, got up and walked slowly along
the crest of the slope among the stunted and wind-twisted trees, making
certain that he could not be observed from the camp. He came a distance
nearer, and watched for a time again. And he saw Captain Ramón!

If it had been in the mind of Señor Zorro to await the night before
descending into the camp again that idea left his mind now. He hurried
forward as speedily as possible, stopping now and then to listen, for
fear some of the pirates may have been sent to search for him.

He did not know, could not think, how he was to enter the camp in the
broad light of day without escaping discovery. And he could do little
single-handed against the victorious pirate crew. Yet the plight of the
little _señorita_ called to him for action, and he knew that something
should be done at once.

And suddenly he stopped, for he had smelled smoke. Almost silently he
crept forward through the brush, and came to a small clearing.

There he saw a hut, from the chimney of which smoke was issuing. Señor
Zorro circled the hut, but saw no human being. He went to the crest of
the slope again, and saw a woman struggling down it toward the pirate’s
camp――a woman bent and old.

Señor Zorro guessed, then, that this was the hut of some aged
lawbreaker no longer active in piracy. Perhaps the ancient one was down
in the camp, now that the fighting was at an end, and his ancient woman
was following to see the excitement.

Señor Zorro approached the hut carefully, crept around the corner of
it, and peered in at the door to find the place empty. He rushed inside
and sought frantically for what he desired. There came a chuckle of
delight as he found it.

What he desired and found was nothing more than a ragged skirt and a
wide, dirty shawl. Señor Zorro put them on quickly, bent his shoulders,
and hobbled back among the trees and brush. It was a disguise that
would serve for the time being.

Beneath the skirt was the sword of Zorro, ready to be whipped from its
scabbard. Señor Zorro felt confident as long as the blade was at his
side. He left the fringe of trees at some distance from the hut, and
made his way down the slope.

As he came nearer the camp he was doubly cautious. The horses had lost
some of the fright, and were grazing. The pirates, for the greater
part, were gathered around the adobe building where the _caballeros_
were being held prisoners. The women and children were there, too, only
some of them were still scattered around the camp, looking at the dead
and wounded.

Señor Zorro perceived that he had arrived at an opportune time. Nobody
would give any attention to a woman stumbling along toward the scene of
excitement. The pirates, undoubtedly, imagined that Zorro had ridden
far away, perhaps to San Diego de Alcála for help.

He approached nearer. There were two large adobe buildings, and he
supposed that the _señorita_ was held prisoner in one of them, but he
did not know which.

Then he stopped suddenly, and bent his shoulders more. For he saw
Captain Ramón talking to Barbados, saw the _commandante_ turn and leave
the pirate chief and hurry into the nearest adobe building. Señor Zorro
guessed that the _señorita_ was there.

He hobbled forward again, alert to keep a certain distance from any
of the pirates or women, for he realized that they knew one another
well. He reached the corner of the building, and began to circle it,
listening intently for the voice he hoped to hear.

He heard it. Pretending to be picking up something from the ground,
Señor Zorro bent against the wall and listened. He heard Captain
Ramón’s statements, heard the _señorita_ reply, listened with a grim
expression on his face while the _commandante_ begged for an embrace.

It would be perilous to enter that building now, Señor Zorro knew.
Ramón would call the pirates, but perhaps he could be silenced first.
However, there could be no hesitation. The _señorita_ was there, being
affronted, and was to be spared insult.

Señor Zorro saw the window, and guessed that he could manage to
struggle through it. He raised his head and glanced inside. He saw the
_señorita_ recoiling, the _commandante_ approaching her.

Señor Zorro hesitated no longer. He sprang up and scrambled through the
window. He tore at the woman’s clothing that clung to him, got free of
it, and whipped out the sword of Zorro. He pressed the _señorita_ to
one side out of harm’s way, and confronted his enemy.

His open hand cracked against Captain Ramón’s head. And then he stepped
back, on guard, giving the renegade officer his chance, though he
little deserved it.

“You are alive!” the _señorita_ gasped.

“Ha! Very much alive!” Señor Zorro replied. “Stand back against the
wall, _señorita_, and turn your pretty face away. This is not going to
be pleasant for a dainty lady’s eyes to watch!”




        [Illustration: The Further Adventures of Zorro, Part V]




                             CHAPTER XXII.

                          A PRICE TO BE PAID.


The face of Captain Ramón turned livid as he struggled to get his sword
from its scabbard. There was a look of fear in his countenance, too.

“Zorro!” he cried. “Señor Zorro, eh?”

“_Sí!_ Zorro!” came the answer. “There is not water enough in all the
sea to drown me while there remains something to be avenged. We have
crossed blades before, _señor_, and I have marked you. But this time
shall be the last. A fatal wound this time, _capitan_! It is an honor
that I do not cut you down without giving you the chance to defend
yourself!”

Captain Ramón finally had his sword out, and now he was on guard. But
he could not forget that once before in his life he had crossed blades
with Señor Zorro, and Zorro had played with him as a cat plays with
a mouse, and finally had left him for dead after marking him on the
forehead.

And so the captain grew desperately afraid, feeling that he had small
chance against the better sword play of the other. He sprang back
toward the door to the front room, but found Señor Zorro before him
blocking the way.

“Are you a coward and would run?” Zorro taunted. “A pretty soldier, by
the saints!”

“Ha! Señor Zorro is here!” the _commandante_ shouted at the top of his
lung power. “Zorro is here! To me, pirates!”

He had no time to say more. Señor Zorro’s face assumed an expression
of grim determination, and he advanced swiftly. But Captain Ramón had
found another method of protection for the time being. He sprang back
beside the _señorita_, grasped her roughly and held her before him,
shielding his body with hers. And he continued his shouting, hoping to
attract the attention of Barbados and his men.

“Poltroon!” Zorro sneered. “Coward and dog!”

“Fly, Diego!” the _señorita_ begged. “The pirates will be here and take
you.”

“When I have slain this arrant coward and rescued you, and not before!”
Señor Zorro declared.

He danced toward Captain Ramón again, but the _commandante_ was back in
a corner now, holding the _señorita_ close before him, and Señor Zorro
was afraid to attempt a thrust. The _señorita_ made a struggle to get
free, but found that she could not.

In the other room the woman Inez had heard the tumult and the words.
She had dared to open the door a crack and peer inside, and then she
had closed the door again and barred it quickly, and hurried into the
open.

“Barbados!” she shrieked. “Sanchez! Fiends of hell! Señor Zorro is here
trying to kill the captain! Come and take him!”

Barbados heard and understood her shrieks, as did some of the others
near. They rushed across the open space and crowded into the front room
of the building. From the storeroom came the sound of Señor Zorro’s
voice.

“Hide behind a woman, eh, coward? Come out and fight, poltroon! Come
out, renegade! Is there no insult strong enough to bring you forth?”

Barbados motioned with one hand. Inez unbarred the door and threw it
open. Into the storeroom tumbled the pirates, their blades held ready.

“Take him alive!” Barbados thundered. “Catch me this land pirate
unhurt!”

Señor Zorro whirled to confront them. He darted to a corner and threw
up his blade. He sprang forward a few steps, wounded a man, retreated
again.

But he knew that the weight of numbers was against him in such cramped
fighting quarters, and he could not get to the window and make an
escape. They hurled themselves upon him, buried him beneath their
combined weight, disarmed him, and forced him to his feet again. They
lashed his hands behind his back, and Barbados, now that it was a safe
thing to do, stalked forward and spat at him.

“So, Señor Zorro, we have you in our hands again!” Barbados said. “This
time it will be fire or steel instead of water, since you seem to swim
so well! And this time, _señor_, we make a real ghost out of you!”

Captain Ramón lurched forward, his face purple with wrath. “Do with him
as you will,” he said to Barbados. “But let me have a hand in it!”

“Ha! You had your chance, _capitan_, a moment ago, and did not make
much of it!” Barbados replied, grinning. “I’ll have him put in the
other adobe building with the _caballeros_. Fiends of hell, take him
away!”

The _señorita_ made an attempt to get forward, but the pirates thrust
her back. They took Señor Zorro away, and the grinning Barbados
followed them. The captain turned to face the _señorita_ once more.

“_Señorita_, you must try to understand,” he said. “I could not act
or speak in any other manner. The pirates must still think that I am
one of them, else I cannot get to San Diego de Alcála and fetch the
soldiers.”

“There is small need of further pretense, _señor_,” she replied with
much scorn in her manner. “I know you for what you are!”

“You are inclined to show bravery, now that you know this Señor Zorro
is alive, eh?” he said. “But will he live long, in the hands of these
pirates, some of whose friends he has slain? This Barbados loves ransom
money, but Don Diego Vega is one man who never will be ransomed. For
Barbados loves vengeance, too!”

“I cannot endure your presence longer,” she said. “Leave me alone with
my sorrows!”

“Nor can I endure your scorn much longer,” Captain Ramón replied. “Has
it occurred to you that you are in my power completely, if I will it
so?”

“Now you show your true colors again, _señor_. And there is always
death!”

“And torture!” Captain Ramón added. “That will befall this Señor Zorro,
no doubt!”

“Torture?” she cried.

“Ha! Real torture, such as only these beasts of pirates know how to
inflict!” he declared. “No man can stand against such a thing for long.
He will beg and shriek for the release of death when the pain begins.”

“No――no!” she cried.

“And you will be forced to watch it, no doubt!” the _commandante_
continued. “Barbados, his men say, is a master hand at torture of all
kinds. They’ll chip at him with their knives, sear his flesh with
white-hot brands――”

“_Señor_, for the love of the saints――”

“You do not like the picture? Wait until you see the reality, which
will be much worse than words could paint!”

“If I could save him――give my life for his――”

The captain looked at her sharply. “Perhaps there may be a way,” he
said.

“What mean you?”

“I can have speech with this fiend of a Barbados and coax him to delay
the torture until he has accounted for the troopers from San Diego
de Alcála. The troopers will account for him and his men instead, of
course, and then Señor Zorro and the _caballeros_ will be released.”

“And you will do this?” she cried. “Ah, _señor_, if only you would!”

“I can do it, _señorita_――at a price!”

“And what――is the price?” she asked.

“You are the price yourself, _señorita_.”

“Beast!”

“Is that a way to save Señor Zorro by calling me a beast?” the captain
asked. “All that I ask is an immediate marriage. Would it be an ill
thing to wed with one of his excellency’s officers?”

“I cannot! My heart is not my own!”

“Can you hesitate?” the captain asked. “One way, you will be my wife,
and Señor Zorro will be saved from torture and will be set free. The
other way, _señorita_, he will be tortured until he dies――and you will
come to me unwed!”

“Oh!” she gasped. “That a man could be such a fiend――”

“Love drives men to do strange things, _señorita_.”

“Love!” she cried. “You know not the meaning of the word! To love is to
be gentle, to cherish and protect!”

“I know the meaning as it appeals to me,” the captain declared. “And I
have scant time, if you are to agree. Fray Felipe is in the camp, and
he can wed us. Barbados is afraid to affront a _fray_ and will not see
Felipe harmed. So he lets him roam around, though he is watched.”

“I cannot!”

“Very well, _señorita_. It is for you to make the decision. But I am
afraid that the pirates will have their way. And their way will not be
a gentle one!”

“Can you not be a proper man?” she cried. “Can you not save him without
exacting such a payment? For once in your life, _señor_, can you not
show yourself a _caballero_?”

“Save him and let him claim you?” Ramón asked. “You are asking far too
much!”

“Is there no other way?”

“None!” he replied. “There are certain things that you must do――be my
wife, and I will save Señor Zorro by fetching the troopers from San
Diego de Alcála. And afterward you must say that I did but trick the
pirates, and that you wed me in gratitude for saving you from them.”

“Such a falsehood would not come easily from my lips, _señor_,” she
said. “And how can I trust you? How do I know that you would fetch the
troopers?”

“I am not afraid to make the bargain,” he told her. “You need not
wed me until after the pirates are defeated and the _caballeros_ are
released. That is fair enough for both, is it not? But how, on the
other hand, may I be assured that you will not forget your part of the
bargain, once I have done my share?”

“_Señor!_” she cried, her face flaming. “Would a daughter of the
Pulidos break her given word?”

“Then you give it?” he asked.

“Not yet!” she replied firmly. “There are to be certain stipulations,
_señor_.”

“And they――” he questioned.

“I must see Señor Zorro alone and speak to him, and explain just what
I intend to do. I would tell him the truth――that you will save him and
the others if I wed you. I would not have him think that my heart is
one that can change so easily.”

“Ha! After that you would have to save him against his will. He would
not accept the sacrifice.”

“Then will I save him despite himself,” she declared. “And you need
not fear for the future in such case, _señor_. Once we were wed, Señor
Zorro would not raise his hand against you if I asked him not to do so.”

“Perhaps it may be arranged,” Captain Ramón said.

He was plotting more, even as he spoke. He did not see how he could
lose in this game. If he fetched the troopers, and the pirates were
wiped out and the _caballeros_ saved, the _señorita_ would keep her
word if she had given it. Men might despise him for taking advantage
of a situation, yet would he be safe. And perhaps, for a small sum, he
could have this Señor Zorro killed yet.

And if the pirates through some fortune of war managed to be victorious
over the troopers, then Captain Ramón could do the other thing――simply
seize the _señorita_, give Señor Zorro up to torture, and remain a
renegade, perhaps even become a pirate chief himself in the future.

“I will speak to no other man, _señor_――only Zorro,” she said, as he
seemed to hesitate. “I will not betray your double-dealing to the
pirate crew, for that would defeat all our ends and mean death for
Señor Zorro and the _caballeros_, and much worse for me. But I must
speak to Señor Zorro a moment before I give you my decision in the
matter.”

“I will try to arrange it with Barbados,” Captain Ramón replied. “Come
into the other room and let the woman guard you until I return. You
must play the game well if you would be successful. And there is scant
time. I should start my ride to San Diego de Alcála as quickly as
possible.”




                            CHAPTER XXIII.

                       THE SEÑORITA PLOTS ALSO.


Captain Ramón, hurrying outside, found Barbados in the open space
before the other adobe building. The pirate chief, it was easy to see,
had been drinking heavily of rich, stolen wine. Among the pirates slain
were some of Barbados’s particular friends, and he was trying to drown
his sorrow at their untimely taking off.

He turned as the _commandante_ approached and greeted him with a shout.

“Ha!” he cried, lurching drunkenly. “So you have not started for San
Diego de Alcála yet, _capitan_? You have just come from the little
_señorita――sí_? Yet your face does not bear the marks of her nails,
which is strange. I would not want the taming of her. By my naked
blade, I would not!”

“Attend me!” the captain commanded, grasping the pirate chief by the
arm. “Is it your intention to torture this Señor Zorro your men have
taken?”

Barbados cursed loudly, breathed heavily, and squinted his eyes until
they were only two tiny slits. “I shall make him squirm and squeal!” he
declared loudly. “And then I shall turn him into a proper ghost!”

“Death is nothing to a man like that,” Captain Ramón told him. “But
torture is a different matter.”

“Then I’ll see to it that he is prettily tortured!” Barbados declared.

“There are two sorts of torture, Barbados――the physical and the
mental,” said the captain.

“Mental? I do not understand such things!”

“Torture to the mind,” the captain explained. “That is the worst kind
by far. If you would have some sport with this Señor Zorro, whom we
both hate, listen to me. The _señorita_, who was to have been his
bride, is afraid that you will torture and slay him. I have told
her that I will save him by fetching the troopers from San Diego de
Alcála――if she will wed with me.”

“Ha! Is this treason?” Barbados cried.

“Are you a fool?” questioned the captain. “And am I one? There must
be no talk of treason between us. Attend! She will go to this Señor
Zorro and explain to him what she intends doing. Just think of that,
Barbados! There is torture for you! He, who loves her so much, will
think that she is to become the bride of another man. Ha! He will
squirm and squeal indeed! A prisoner, and unable to prevent it! Ha!”

“Ha!” Barbados cried, understanding finally, and grinning to show his
appreciation.

“And we will taunt him with it,” the _commandante_ continued. “We’ll
watch him squirm!”

“But it appears to me, _capitan_, that in this affair you are acting
the part of an ass,” Barbados dared to say. “Why work so hard to get
the wench to agree to wed you when you can take her at your pleasure?”

“Because it will hurt this Señor Zorro a great deal more to know that
she gives her consent,” the captain replied. “We’ll taunt him about it,
and then I’ll ride for the soldiers. And your men will sweep them off
the earth and then ride to San Diego de Alcála and loot the place. As
for this Señor Zorro――having tortured him mentally, you will proceed to
torture him physically when you celebrate your victory.”

“It appeals to me!” Barbados declared suddenly. “He slew some of my
closest friends. Yet I would not wait too long! Some of these fine
enemies must be tortured soon, while I am in the proper mood for it!”

“And there can be more mental torture,” the captain said. “Do not touch
him until the very last. Make him watch as some of his friends are
being tortured. Let him hear their shrieks of pain. Let him see Don
Audre Ruiz, his boon companion, suffer. That will hurt him as much as
being tortured himself.”

“Ha! By my naked blade, _capitan_, you should have been born a pirate!”
Barbados shrieked.

“Then it is agreed?”

“_Sí!_ It is agreed!”

“I will get the _señorita_ and let her tell Señor Zorro what she
intends to do.”

“There are two rooms in that adobe building,” Barbados explained. “This
Señor Zorro is alone in the front one, for I thought it best not to
put him with the others. The door between has a heavy lock, and I have
the key. You can let the _señorita_ go in there, and we’ll listen at
the window and enjoy his pain when she tells him. Ha! I say it again,
_capitan_――you should be a pirate! You are wasted in the army!”

Captain Ramón hastened back to the _señorita_, whispered that he had
been able to arrange things as she wished, grinned at old Inez, and
then conducted the daughter of the Pulidos across the open space and
toward the adobe building where Señor Zorro and the _caballeros_ were
being held prisoners.

Barbados was waiting. He leered at the girl, then called one of his men
to his side, and commanded that he unfasten and open the door. Señor
Zorro, his wrists still lashed behind his back, was pacing around the
room. From the room adjoining came the voices of the _caballeros_.

“Señor Zorro, here is a pretty wench who has some words for your ears,”
Barbados called. “She is not so pretty as she was, having dirtied
herself in an attempt to escape, but possibly she will serve. I give
you a few minutes in which to hold speech. Do not abuse the privilege.”

“Whatever you may do in the future, I thank you for this, Señor
Pirate!” Zorro said.

Barbados laughed and withdrew, and closed the door behind him. The
_señorita_ stepped forward slowly, her hands held at her breast, a look
of anguish in her sweet face. Señor Zorro was smiling down at her.

“The saints are good, _señorita_!” he whispered. “That I may see you
again――”

“Diego, my beloved, it is a sad errand!” she interrupted. “Yet I had to
come.”

His face was grave for an instant, and then he smiled at her once more.

“So they have sent you to tell me that I must die?” he asked. “I could
not receive a warrant of death from sweeter hands. My one regret is
that I have failed in your rescue. I do not fear the coming of death.
It will be only another adventure. It is for you that I fear.”

“Fear not for me!” she said. “Nor fear the coming of death, either. It
is not a warrant of death that I bring you, Diego. I have come to tell
you that you are to go free.”

“Free?” Señor Zorro gasped. “Have pirates turned kind? Has old Fray
Felipe demonstrated to them the error of their ways? Is the devil going
to mass these days? _Señorita_, you are trying to make the sentence
lighter by saying it in a kind manner. Speak out! Don Diego Vega is not
afraid to learn the truth, and most certainly Señor Zorro is not.”

“I know that you are not afraid, Diego. I dread to tell you this thing,
though it means your life.”

He stepped closer to her suddenly, and looked down into her eyes. “What
are you trying to tell me?” he asked kindly. “Do not be afraid to
speak.”

“That you are to go free, Diego,” she replied, failing to meet his
glance.

“And how may that be?” he asked.

“Captain Ramón is to arrange it.”

“Put not your trust in Ramón!”

“Ah, Diego, but there is naught else to do!” she said. “He tells me
that he is tricking the pirates. He will ride to San Diego de Alcála
and return with the troopers from the _presidio_ there. The pirates
will be slain or captured, and you and the _caballeros_ will be saved.”

“Ramón will do this?” Señor Zorro cried. “Is there some hidden spark of
gentlehood in the beast?”

“He will do it, Diego――for a price.”

“Ha! I might have known it! Well, I can pay the cur! What is the price?”

“Not money, Diego, beloved! The price is that I wed him.”

Señor Zorro sucked in his breath sharply and bent quickly over her.

“You wed with him?” he said. “Wed with a snake like Captain Ramón?”

“Only to save you, Diego! Ah, do not think that I am untrue! He but
asks my word――the word of a Pulido! And the wedding is not to take
place until he returns with the troopers, the pirates are slain, and
you are free.”

“_Señorita――_”

“There will be torture and death for you, else,” she was quick to
add. “And I will remain true, Diego. I shall but promise to wed him,
understand. And after the ceremony, before he can claim me as his
bride, I――I shall die!”

“And do you think that I would accept such a sacrifice?” Señor Zorro
asked. “Could I live and see you the bride of another man? And could I
live knowing that you had taken your own life for me? No, _señorita_!”

“If I do not, they will torture and slay you!”

“Then let them torture and slay!” he said. “You cannot do this thing!
You――a daughter of the Pulido blood! Think of the blood in your veins!”

“I could not be his wife, except in name, but I can die!” she said.
“Only a thrust of the dagger after the ceremony! The blood of the
Pulidos tells me to do that!”

“I command you――entreat you――”

“Can I see you die?” she asked. “And, if I refuse, there will be
nothing except death for me as well as for you. For Ramón will try,
then, to make me his by force.”

“Better to die in defense of your honor, _señorita_, than have your
fair name linked with his even for a moment!” Señor Zorro declared. “I
demand that you refuse to do this thing! Ah, _señorita_, all hope is
not gone! They have taken my sword, and they have bound my hands, but I
am not helpless entirely. The spirit of Zorro still burns in my breast!
Given but a little time, and I’ll win through!”

“Diego!”

“If we could work for time――” he said.

“Perhaps I can hold him off for an hour,” she whispered. “But no longer
than that, I am sure. And――there may be a way. I have thought of
something!”

“What is it?”

“Whisper,” she commanded. “I am sure that they are listening outside
the window. Pretend that all is agreed between us. Let me embrace you!”

Barbados and Captain Ramón not only were listening, but also they were
peering through the window. And they saw her go up close to him, press
against him, saw her arms go around him, as though in a last embrace.
But her back was toward the window, and they could not see all.

For, as she pressed against him, the little _señorita_ took from
her bosom the dagger that the woman Inez had given her when she had
attempted to make an escape, and which had been forgotten afterward.
And she reached around him even as she buried her head against his
breast, and sawed with the sharp dagger at the cords that bound his
wrists.

“Careful!” she warned. “Hold the ends of the ropes, so they will not
know that you are free!”

“_Sí!_” he breathed. “Never in all the world was there ever a _señorita_
like you! Hope sings within me again!”

“Do not let it show in your face!” she warned.

Her hands crept to the front again, and she slipped the dagger into
the sash around his waist. She knew that he felt it, and knew that it
was there. And then she stepped back, and raised her voice so that
those at the window could hear.

“It is the only way, Diego!” she said. “I must leave you――I cannot
endure this scene longer! Take my lips, Diego――for the last time!”

She raised her head, and her eyes closed. He bent forward, their lips
touched. And then she gave a little cry as though of pain, and rushed
back toward the door. And Señor Zorro remained standing against the
wall, anguish in his countenance.

Barbados opened the door and let the _señorita_ out of the room, then
closed and fastened the door again. Captain Ramón hurried up to her.

“You have decided, _señorita_?” he asked.

“Almost am I ready to give you my sacred word, but not quite,” she
replied. “It is a terrible thing for me, _señor_. Give me but one
little hour. Let me go to old Fray Felipe and have him pray with me.”

“I am growing tired of waiting!” Captain Ramón said. “I should be on my
way already. Why not decide now?”

“You will have ample time to return with the troopers long before
nightfall,” she whispered quickly, as Barbados turned away to howl an
order to some of his men. “Give me only an hour――perhaps less!”

“Very well――an hour!” said the captain. “But no longer! I’ll find the
_fray_ for you, and put you both in one of the huts under guard until
you can make up your mind.”




                             CHAPTER XXIV.

                            INTO THE OPEN.


Señor Zorro fought the battle of his life, after the little _señorita_
had gone and the door had been closed and barred, to keep from showing
his elation in his face.

His hands now would be free at any time he wished to drop the ends of
the cords that bound his wrists. He had a weapon hidden in the sash
about his waist. Given those minor advantages, Señor Zorro felt that he
could disconcert his enemies again, else fail to be Zorro.

But the expression in his face did not change as he walked slowly
around the room and finally came to a stop before the window and
glanced across the clearing and the beach toward the glistening water
of the bay. He looked like a man devoid of all hope, expecting the
worst.

Not so very far away was a small hut, before the one door of which
two of the pirates sat on guard. Señor Zorro was well aware of the
fact that the weapons of the captured _caballeros_, and those of their
comrades who had been slain, were in there, and that his own beloved
sword was there also, waiting to be claimed by him.

And, as he watched, Sanchez rode wildly into the clearing on a
magnificent horse, undoubtedly stolen from some great _hacienda_.
Barbados’s lieutenant dismounted and allowed the animal to wander near
the hut while he hurried in search of the pirate chief with some report.

These things Señor Zorro saw quickly, and then he hurried back to the
door that opened into the other room. It was barred, and locked with a
strong lock, and Zorro had no tools with which to open it. He could not
unfasten it and release his friends, but he could hold speech with them.

He made certain that nobody was near the window to overhear, and then
kicked against the door to attract the attention of the _caballeros_.

“Audre!” he called, in a guarded voice.

There was silence for a moment, and then he heard a whisper from the
other side of the door.

“_Sí?_”

“I have another chance, Audre. The _señorita_ has cut my bonds and
given me a dagger. It is a poor weapon, but better than none. It would
avail us nothing for me to let you out if I could, for the pirates
greatly outnumber us. But I can try to escape and ride to San Diego de
Alcála for troopers.”

“Good, Diego, my friend!”

“I know not what may happen before I am able to return. Ramón is in the
camp and up to some sort of deviltry. But, should you escape, look to
the _señorita_!”

“Be assured of that!” Don Audre replied.

“If I can do so, when I escape I’ll take her with me. If not, I’ll
return with the troopers as swiftly as possible. The saints be with
you!”

“And with you!” Don Audre Ruiz returned.

Señor Zorro walked slowly away from the door and approached the window
again. The horse Sanchez had been riding was now but a short distance
from the adobe building. The two guards were squatted before the hut
wherein the captured weapons had been stored, drinking and talking.
Other pirates were in the distance, walking around, stretched in the
shade of the huts, gambling, shouting, quarreling.

Señor Zorro knew well that it would profit nothing to get those weapons
in the hut, for the _caballeros_ could not be liberated quickly, and so
the element of surprise in an attack would be lost. Moreover, were they
liberated and their swords in their hands, they would only be cut down
by the pirate crew after they had taken some toll.

Señor Zorro wanted his own sword, but did not know whether there would
be time for him to get possession of it. He would not dare stop to
attack the two guards, for the other pirates would rush up and endanger
his chance for escape. It would be far better, he decided quickly, to
seize the horse and ride with what speed he could toward the distant
village of San Diego de Alcála, get help there at the _presidio_, and
return to the work of rescue with an armed force behind him.

Back to the door he hurried.

“Audre!” he called, softly.

“_Sí?_”

“Raise a din in there, create a bedlam of a sort, and ’twill help me
vastly. Pretend to be fighting among yourselves.”

He did not have very long to wait. He could hear Don Audre Ruiz
whispering instructions to the other _caballeros_, and almost instantly
they began shrieking at one another, pounding on the heavy door, making
a bedlam of noise. Señor Zorro hurried across to the outside window and
called to the guards before the hut.

“Come here!” he shouted. “The prisoners are fighting and slaying one
another!”

But they refused to leave their posts, as Señor Zorro had hoped they
would do. Instead, they shrieked the news at Barbados, who was not
far away, and he ran toward the adobe building followed by Sanchez
and half a dozen of the men. They unbarred the door and burst in upon
Señor Zorro, who stood back against the wall gazing at the door of
the adjoining room, as though trying to decide what was taking place
inside. From the other side of that door came shrieks and cries and the
sounds of blows.

“Fiends of hell!” Barbados swore. “They will slay one another, and then
there will be neither torture nor ransom! Unfasten that door and stand
ready to drive them back if they try to make an escape. And two of you
guard that outside door also!”

One glance he flung at Señor Zorro, to find him standing against the
wall as if his attention were concentrated on the other room. But as
Barbados turned toward the door again Señor Zorro shifted along the
wall for a distance of a few feet, and glanced toward the door through
which he would have to go to freedom.

He waited until the other door was about to be thrown open, until the
pirates in the room had their attention centered there, and then Señor
Zorro dropped the severed cords from his wrists, wriggled his fingers
for an instant to restore the circulation of blood, and suddenly
brought his hands around in front of him and tore the dagger from his
sash, where the little _señorita_ had put it.

Forward he hurled himself, just as the other door was opened. He took
the two men before him by surprise. One he hurled aside; the other he
was forced to wound slightly to get him out of the way. Past them he
dashed, even as they shrieked the intelligence that he was escaping.
Out into the open he darted and straight toward the horse that Sanchez
had ridden into the clearing. He would have no difficulty in getting
to the horse, he saw. But his escape was all that he could negotiate.
A glance told him that the _señorita_ was not in sight, and he had no
time to search the entire camp for her.

The pirates were rushing toward him from every side, attracted by the
tumult. Barbados, behind him, was shrieking commands and foul oaths.
The dagger held between his teeth, Señor Zorro dodged the two men
before the hut and vaulted into the saddle, kicked at the animal’s
flanks, and was away.

Behind him a pistol barked, but the ball flew wild, and he could hear
the insane roar of rage that Barbados gave because he had missed the
target. It was a flying target now. Señor Zorro bent low over the
horse’s neck and kicked frantically at the animal’s flanks again.
Straight across the clearing he guided the animal, toward the trail
that ran to the crest of the slope.

Another pistol roared behind him, but he did not even hear the shrill
whistling of the flying ball. He wished that he might make a search for
the _señorita_, but he was afraid that capture might result if he tried
it. And were he captured again Barbados would make short work of him.
It were better to get away free and return later to rescue.

He was approaching the edge of the camp now. He knew that there were
some mounts with saddles and bridles on, and that there might be a
pursuit. Once over the crest, he would have a chance. The pirates would
not dare follow him too close to San Diego de Alcála, and that was only
eight miles away.

And then he saw, just ahead of him, Captain Ramón. The _commandante_
was drinking from a bottle and talking to some women of the camp. He
whirled around when he heard the mad pounding of the horse’s hoofs, and
Señor Zorro saw his face go white as he struggled to get his sword from
its scabbard. The _commandante_ had recognized him.

The women shrieked and fled. Captain Ramón, his sword out, stood his
ground. Straight toward him Señor Zorro raced his horse, bending
forward, his dagger held in his right hand again. Now he wished he had
his beloved sword!

But Ramón sprang out of the way just in time and swung his blade in a
vicious blow. It missed Señor Zorro and struck the horse on the rump,
inflicting a minor cut. It had the effect, however, of frightening the
animal more. Up the slope he raced, and Señor Zorro sat straight in the
saddle and shrieked at the top of his voice:

    “_Atención!_ A _caballero’s_ near――”

It was not merely in a spirit of bravado. It was to let the little
_señorita_ know, if she did not already, that he was free and riding
wildly for help.




                             CHAPTER XXV.

                           AT THE PRESIDIO.


In that instant, as he watched the singing Zorro racing up the slope
toward the crest, Captain Ramón realized that his future was hanging by
a very thin thread. Were he to protect his own interests he must move
swiftly.

He sensed that Señor Zorro would make a mad ride for San Diego de
Alcála and pour a story into the ear of the _commandante_ of the
_presidio_ there. And it was highly imperative that Captain Ramón tell
a far better story――and tell it first.

Ramón managed to return his sword to its scabbard, and then he raced
with what speed he could toward Barbados and the others, who were
following lurchingly in Señor Zorro’s wake. He grasped Barbados by an
arm and hurried him aside.

“What happened?” the _commandante_ demanded.

“The fellow tricked us in some fashion!” Barbados declared with an
oath. “His hands were untied, and he had a dagger. If that pretty wench
we let speak with him――”

“Attend me!” Ramón cried. “The wench is under guard in one of the huts,
and is not to be touched. Get me a horse. Be quick about it! The fool
is riding to San Diego for troopers!”

“Ha! Let them come!”

“I must get to the _presidio_ before he arrives,” Captain Ramón
explained. “The lieutenant there will take orders from me. Then I’ll
lead the troopers into your ambush, as we had planned. And this Zorro――”

“Ha! This Zorro!” Barbados cried. “When I have my hands upon him again
there’ll be no delay.”

“I’ll have him imprisoned in the _presidio_,” the captain promised.
“Then, after you defeat the soldiers, and when you go to loot the town,
he will be at your mercy.”

“You think of everything!” Barbados declared. “I say it yet once
again――you should be a pirate!”

One of the men, understanding more than his fellows, had fetched the
captain’s own horse, with saddle and bridle on. The captain sprang into
the saddle.

“Arrange the ambush at the head of the cañon, as we planned,” he told
Barbados. “Do it without delay. I’ll lead the troopers straight into
the trap.”

Then he touched spurs to the animal he bestrode and dashed up the slope
in the wake of Señor Zorro.

Captain Ramón was an excellent horseman, and he rode an excellent
mount. Moreover, he had been through every mile of that country with
his troopers some time before. He knew the shortest route to the
_presidio_ at San Diego de Alcála, and he felt quite sure that Señor
Zorro did not.

Reaching the crest of the slope, Captain Ramón stopped his horse
beneath the trees and watched and listened for a time. From the
distance there came to his ears the drumming of a horse’s hoofs. As he
had expected, Señor Zorro had ridden along the bottom of the cañon, and
Captain Ramón knew that such a course would take him at least two miles
out of his way. Once in that cañon, a horseman was forced to follow it
until he came to the other end.

Captain Ramón turned his horse’s head in another direction and drove
home the spurs. He rode around a hill and emerged upon a flat space,
across which he raced toward a row of foothills in the distance. Señor
Zorro had the start, but he was taking the long way. Aside from an
accident, Captain Ramón could reach San Diego de Alcála and have his
story told before Señor Zorro arrived.

The thing had to be done, he told himself. He would use his authority
and have Zorro thrown into the guardroom at the _presidio_. He would
go back to the pirate camp at the head of the troopers, see that the
pirates were wiped out to a man, release the _caballeros_ and the
_señorita_.

And then there would be other things to do. He would convince the
authorities that Señor Zorro had been allied with the pirates and
that the _caballeros_ had not known of it, and have Zorro hanged. He
would ask his friend, the Governor, to order the _señorita_ to wed
with him because he had saved her and wiped out the pirate brood, and
the _señorita_ would be forced to obey his excellency’s command. And
he would see to it that all men believed he had been true and loyal
continually.

If the _señorita_ spoke out the truth Captain Ramón could smile and say
she uttered a falsehood because she did not wish to wed with him. He
was guarded against every emergency, he felt.

There was a mere possibility, of course, that the pirates might be
victorious, and in such case Captain Ramón would pretend that he
had been with the rogues always, turn pirate himself, and have the
_señorita_. But he preferred the other way.

He thought of these things as he rode. Around another hill and down a
slope he rushed, and when he came to a wide trail that ran toward the
distant El Camino Real he knew that he had distanced Señor Zorro. Yet
he rode furiously, for he wanted all the time he could have at the
_presidio_ before Zorro arrived.

And finally he reached the highway, and tore along it like a mad
horseman riding on the wind. The mount beneath him was showing signs of
wearying, but the captain urged him on. Now he was flying past natives’
huts scattered along the broad highway. Children and chickens and swine
hurried from his path. Women came to the doors of the huts to look
after him through clouds of dust.

Then he could see, in the distance, the _presidio_ on its little
hill, and the group of buildings around it. Captain Ramón urged his
horse cruelly. As he approached men turned to watch him. Before the
_presidio_ itself troopers sprang to their feet, as men will when there
is a feeling of excitement in the air.

Captain Ramón stopped his horse in a cloud of dust before the
_presidio_ entrance and was out of the saddle before the nearest
trooper could seize the bridle. The men saluted, but Captain Ramón
spent no time in answering their salutes. Drawing off his gloves, he
strode through the entrance and straight toward the office of the
_commandante_.

He had lied nobly to Barbados. Instead of their being a smaller force
of soldiers than usual at San Diego de Alcála, there was an extra
detachment, come to relieve others who were to go toward the north. But
only a lieutenant was there by way of officer, the real _commandante_
being on a journey to San Francisco de Asis to explain certain things
to the Governor.

Captain Ramón opened the office door and strode inside, gasping his
breath, slapping the dust from his uniform. The lieutenant sprang to
his feet.

“Ramón!” he cried. “So far from home――”

Captain Ramón stopped him with a gesture.

“Have your trumpeter sound the assembly, and gather your men while we
talk!” he commanded. “This is serious――and urgent!”

The lieutenant was a good soldier, and did not question. He sprang to
the door and called an order, and almost immediately the commanding
notes of a trumpet rang through the place. Then the lieutenant closed
the door and hurried back to the long table in the middle of the room,
before which Ramón was sitting.

“Pirates within eight miles of you!” Ramón declared. “They have a large
camp. Three nights ago they raided Reina de Los Angeles.”

“The news has reached us.”

“Ha! I followed by land and approached their rendezvous at an early
hour this morning. They abducted Señorita Lolita Pulido. Some
_caballeros_ pursued them by sea, fought, and were overcome. Many are
being held prisoners, for ransom and torture. The _señorita_ is a
prisoner also.”

“Where?” the lieutenant asked.

“On the coast, a bit north. I lurked about the camp and made some
discoveries. Señor Zorro is mixed up with them.”

“Zorro?” the lieutenant gasped.

“The same. His wild blood has broken out again. The _señorita_ is of
the opinion that he followed to rescue her, when in reality he had her
stolen. He was to have married her, but is eager for lawlessness, it
appears. This will be the end of the fiend!”

“Ha!” the lieutenant gasped. “If――”

“Attend!” Ramón interrupted. “I overheard a plot. Zorro is to ride here
wildly and tell of the _señorita_ and the _caballeros_ being held by
the pirates. It is his intention to lead back the troopers――and lead
them into an ambush.”

“By the saints――”

“So the pirates will wipe out your men. And then San Diego de Alcála,
unprotected, will be before him!”

“The fiend!” the lieutenant gasped.

“Call half a dozen of your trusted men and have them ready. When
he enters and begins his story have him seized. Throw him into the
guardroom and put him into the maniac’s shirt. Then I’ll help you
lead the troopers. I know how the ambush is planned. We’ll attack in
the rear, save the _caballeros_, and rescue the _señorita_――and gain
considerable credit. Promotion will come to you!”

“It is agreed!” the lieutenant said, his face beaming.

“Be quick about it. I’ll disappear while Zorro tells his tale. Seize
him, throw him into the guardroom, put him into the maniac’s shirt,
leave two men to guard him. When we return we’ll see that he is
punished for his perfidy. _Caballero_ or not, he’ll be hanged for this.”

The lieutenant sprang from his chair to issue the necessary orders. But
the door was hurled open――and Señor Zorro rushed into the officer’s
room!




                             CHAPTER XXVI.

                             HELPLESSNESS.


On the occasion of this meeting it was Señor Zorro who was properly
astonished instead of his foe. Captain Ramón had been the last person
he had seen at the pirates’ camp; he had ridden at great speed, and
yet here was the _commandante_ ahead of him at the _presidio_ in San
Diego de Alcála.

But it did not take Señor Zorro long to guess that the captain had
taken advantage of some short cut across the country and so had arrived
at the _presidio_ first. And, since he was here, Señor Zorro found
himself in something of a predicament.

For weapons he had only the short dagger and his courage. The element
of surprise upon which he generally depended so much was acting against
him instead of for him in this present encounter; but he did not
despair.

He took two quick steps forward, and the dagger suddenly was in his
right hand. He glanced quickly at the lieutenant, who had picked up his
sword from the long table and was drawing it from the scabbard, and
then whirled toward Captain Ramón, who already had his sword ready for
use.

“So!” Señor Zorro cried. “You got here ahead of me, did you? Renegade
and traitor!”

“’Tis you who are the renegade and traitor!” Captain Ramón declared.
“Friend of pirates!”

“Ha! So that is the tale you have told?” Señor Zorro gasped.
“Lieutenant, I am Don Diego Vega, of Reina de Los Angeles. Perhaps you
have heard the name?”

“The lieutenant also has heard of Señor Zorro, and knows that he and
Don Diego Vega are one and the same man,” Captain Ramón said before
the other officer could reply. Captain Ramón felt some small degree of
courage now, since Señor Zorro had no weapon except his short dagger.

“Ha! Who has not heard of Zorro?” came the reply. “And it is not to be
expected that one of his excellency’s officers would go far out of his
regular way to do Señor Zorro a service. Yet an officer will serve his
duty, and there are certain things to be considered, lieutenant. In a
pirate camp a few miles from this place is a _señorita_ of proper blood
and several _caballeros_ who must be rescued before they are tortured.
I have ridden here for help, having made an escape.”

“Made your escape?” Captain Ramón cried. “You came purposely with the
story to lead the soldiers into a trap, you mean. Your story will avail
you nothing, Señor Zorro. The lieutenant already is planning to ride
to the rescue of his men. But you will remain here, a prisoner in the
guardroom, in a maniac’s shirt――”

“Ha!” Señor Zorro shrieked. “Lieutenant, make no mistake about it. This
Captain Ramón may outrank you, but he is a traitor, and I would have
all honest men know it. He is in league with the pirates himself.”

“You scarcely can expect me to believe that,” the lieutenant replied,
smiling.

“It is the truth, by the saints! He is planning to lead your men into
an ambush, no doubt!”

“I think that we have had enough of this nonsense, Don Diego!” the
lieutenant said, his official manner upon him.

“You believe Captain Ramón in preference to me?”

“I do! You are to consider yourself a prisoner, Don Diego. You’ll be
held here safe until the rescue has been accomplished, and then there
will be an investigation of this entire affair.”

“It will not be necessary for you to keep me a prisoner,” Señor Zorro
replied, his eyes narrowing. “Lead your own soldiers, as you will, and
be quick about it, and do not listen to the advice of Captain Ramón.
The _señorita_ who is held a captive is my betrothed. Her name is
Lolita Pulido. At least allow me to remain free to aid in her rescue.”

“I cannot forget that you are Señor Zorro as well as Don Diego Vega,
and that the Pulido family does not have the friendship of the
Governor,” the lieutenant answered. “Captain Ramón has preferred a
charge against you also. You remain in the _presidio_ a prisoner.”

The lieutenant picked up a silver whistle from the table, and started
to put it to his lips to blow a blast that would call his orderly. But
Señor Zorro, it appeared, had no intention of being kept a prisoner. He
glanced swiftly toward Captain Ramón again, and then darted forward.

The lieutenant’s whistle was knocked from his left hand, but Señor
Zorro did not succeed in getting possession of the officer’s sword as
he hurled him aside. He dashed on to the wall, struck it and whirled
away, and came back with considerable momentum. Captain Ramón had
started toward the door.

But as he put out a hand to pull the door open Señor Zorro grasped a
small stool that stood at one end of the long table and hurled it with
precise aim. It struck the captain’s arm and caused him to recoil with
a cry of pain.

The lieutenant was young, and enjoyed the recklessness of his youth.
He bellowed his challenge and charged. Señor Zorro caught his sword
against the dagger and warded off the blow. But, to do so, he was
compelled to give some ground, and so Captain Ramón got to the door and
opened it.

“Troopers!” he cried. “Help! This way! Your _commandante_ is attacked!”

Señor Zorro fenced the lieutenant for a moment, but he knew well that
he could not do so for long with any great degree of success. And
suddenly he dropped to his knees, and the lieutenant, lunging with his
blade, tripped over him and sprawled on the floor. Zorro was upon his
feet again before Captain Ramón could reach his side. Again he whirled,
and Captain Ramón recoiled against the wall, his sword advanced, his
left arm stretched out across a wood panel.

Señor Zorro did not care to encounter the long blade with his dagger;
besides, he heard the soldiers coming. His arm flashed, and the dagger
flew through the air. Through the sleeve of Captain Ramón’s uniform
coat went the sharp blade, to be driven almost to the hilt in the wood
beyond. The captain was held safely for the moment.

There was one large window in the officer’s room, and it was swinging
open. Zorro dashed for it, reached it, sprang up as the wondering
troopers rushed in through the door. Through the window Señor Zorro
plunged, sprawled on the ground for an instant, and then was upon his
feet again and running with renewed vigor toward the front of the
building.

But disaster waited for him there. The horse he had ridden had been
jaded, and a soldier had taken the mount to the rear to rub it down.
Zorro found his horse gone, and that of Captain Ramón also. The
troopers in front of the _presidio_ were in their saddles. And they
surrounded the unmounted horses of those who had rushed inside in
answer to the captain’s call.

Señor Zorro turned immediately to flee. But the shrieks from inside
the _presidio_ told the troopers what was happening. They forced
their mounts forward, ran Señor Zorro down, cut off his flight, and
surrounded him. For a moment there was a pretty battle; but the
troopers did not strike to slay, not understanding, quite, the status
of this man who seemed to have run amuck. However, they prevented an
escape.

The lieutenant shrieked from the window, demanding an immediate
capture. Señor Zorro made one last attempt to escape. He darted
beneath the belly of a horse, got outside the circle of troopers, and
dashed away. He reached the corner of the low building and went up
it as a fly goes up a wall, using the rough masonry of the corner as
stepping-stones.

Across the roof he darted, while the soldiers urged their horses
forward again in an effort to surround the building. Down the other
side of the roof he ran, skipping across the Spanish tiles until he
reached the eaves.

Below him was his horse, and the hostler was wiping one of the animal’s
forelegs. Señor Zorro did not hesitate. He crouched and sprang, and
landed in the saddle. The hostler rolled to one side in fright as the
animal lurched forward.

Señor Zorro whirled the beast toward the highway. But he saw at a
glance that there was small chance of escape. The mount he bestrode was
almost exhausted, and the troopers had fresh mounts. And they were upon
him with a rush.

Weaponless, he could do nothing. They charged around him, pulled him
down from the saddle, made him prisoner, and then marched him back to
the entrance of the _presidio_, where the lieutenant and Captain Ramón
were waiting.

“The maniac’s shirt for him!” the lieutenant commanded. “Put him into
it and then into the guardroom. Two men will remain behind to see that
he does not escape. But I scarcely think that even Señor Zorro can
escape the maniac’s shirt!”

“Put me in it, and I hold it against you!” Zorro warned.

“I have given my orders,” the lieutenant replied loftily.

“One last word for your ear!” Zorro said. “You are making a sad
mistake. I tell you here and now, before some of your men, that this
Captain Ramón is a renegade and a traitor. Heed not his advice! And
ride swiftly, else you’ll not accomplish the rescue. I charge you to
take the _señorita_ to a place of safety.”

“Certainly, _señor_!”

“You’ll not let me ride with you?”

“I have given my orders.”

“Lieutenant, I swear by my honor as a _caballero_ that all I have told
you is the truth. Does that carry weight with you?”

It seemed to carry weight, for the officer hesitated. A _caballero_
does not pledge his honor lightly. But how could it be possible that an
officer like Captain Ramón could be anything but loyal and true. And
Captain Ramón himself decided the lieutenant.

“For a _caballero_ to swear by his honor is a great thing,” the captain
said. “Yet now and then we find a man of _caballero_ blood who forgets
the honor that should be his. And we remember that you are Señor Zorro,
also!”

“_Señor――_” Zorro began angrily.

But the lieutenant cut him short. “I have decided,” he said. “You will
be held a prisoner in the maniac’s shirt until we return. Take him
away!”

The soldiers grasped him roughly, hurried him inside and to the
guardroom. There, Señor Zorro tried to fight again, but could
accomplish nothing against so many foes. They lashed his ankles
and knees and tied his wrists together in front of him. And then
one fetched the maniac’s shirt. The latter was exactly what it was
named, an instrument used on violent maniacs to prevent them harming
themselves or anybody else. It was a long bag of leather, constructed
so that a man could be slipped into it bound, and the top of the bag
then gathered around his neck with a leather thong.

Protesting to the last, Señor Zorro was put inside the leather bag and
the neck thong tightened. And then they propped him up on a bench in
a corner, and left the room. The door closed; he heard the bar go up
against it.

The soldiers hurried away. There was a moment of silence. And then
Señor Zorro heard the clattering of horses’ hoofs as they rode
toward the highway. And he was left behind, bound and helpless, in
the guardroom of the _presidio_, in the maniac’s shirt, and with two
troopers just outside the door.




       [Illustration: The Further Adventures of Zorro, Part VI]




                            CHAPTER XXVII.

                       FRAY FELIPE USES HIS WIT.


Barbados, who had been drinking heavily of the rich, stolen wine since
the culmination of the fight with the _caballeros_ and the crew of
the trading schooner, had reached the stage where he was surly, mean,
dangerous. The sensational escape of Señor Zorro had been as oil poured
upon flames with the pirate chief. He roared and cursed like a fiend
after Captain Ramón had ridden away in pursuit, cuffed some of his
men out of the way, and then stood with his fists planted against his
hips, his feet wide apart, a black look in his face, his tiny eyes
glittering ominously as he glanced toward the adobe building wherein
the _caballero_ prisoners were quartered.

Sanchez and the others who knew Barbados best had been busy keeping out
of his way and so escaping trouble, but now Barbados bellowed loudly
for his lieutenant, and Sanchez was forced to disclose himself. He
approached his chief warily, ready to turn and run if Barbados was in a
belligerent mood; but he saw at a glance that what wrath Barbados was
enjoying was not directed toward his second in command.

“Sanchez! Fiend of the fiends!” he shouted. “By my naked blade, it is
in my mind that we are growing weary because of the lack of sport.”

“Then we must have sport,” Sanchez said. “If you’ve anything to
suggest――”

“We have prisoners,” Barbados remarked, licking his thick lips, “and
it is possible that a little torture would not be amiss. Say, roasting
at the stake for one of those high-born _caballeros_ whose blood is
gentle.”

“Ha!” Sanchez grunted. “It is an excellent idea――if we draw out the
man’s agony.”

“The drawing out of his agony can be accomplished without a great deal
of trouble,” Barbados declared. “We’ll make him squirm and squeal.”

“But there is an ambush to be prepared for the soldiers,” Sanchez
suggested.

“There will be ample time for that at a later hour,” replied the pirate
chief. “It will take some time for those troopers to gallop out here
from San Diego de Alcála. We can fight better if we have more wine to
drink and some sort of sport to watch before giving battle.”

“And which of the _caballeros_ shall be roasted?” Sanchez wanted to
know. “All of them are valuable men from the standpoint of ransom.”

“Ha! One can be spared,” said Barbados. “Not a man in that adobe but
has very rich relatives. What sum we lose from the one we roast we can
fasten on the others. We’ll force them to gamble and decide the victim
themselves. That is a happy thought. Come with me and fetch half a
dozen trusted men along.”

Barbados, having arrived at a decision, started straight for the adobe
building as Sanchez shouted to some of the men nearest. The pirate
chief unfastened the outer door and entered with the others at his
heels. Then he unlocked the inner door and threw it open.

The _caballeros_ were sprawled around the room, talking to one another
in low tones, and they turned and looked at Barbados as he stood before
them, much as men might have looked at an intruder. Scorn was in every
face, and the pirate chief was quick to notice it.

“So you raised a din and attracted our attention, and thus aided this
Señor Zorro to escape!” Barbados accused. “It is in my mind that there
must be some punishment for that.”

The _caballeros_ turned from him again and began talking to one another
once more as though Barbados had not addressed them. He growled a curse
low down in his throat and took another step toward them, glaring
ferociously.

“I have here a pack of cards properly shuffled,” Barbados said, his
glare changing to a fiendish grin. “I’ll put them on this bench, and
you prisoners will form into a line, walk past the bench, and each draw
a card. The man who draws the first deuce will be the victim.”

“Victim of what?” one asked.

“Of torture!” Barbados roared. “The stake! Roasting! My men demand
sport, and I am the one to give it to them. It is an even thing for
you――the gods of chance will decide.”

“And suppose, _señor_,” said Don Audre Ruiz, stepping forward with a
great deal of sarcasm and scorn in his manner, “that we do not care to
play your game?”

“Ha! The solution of the difficulty is easy if you do not,” Barbados
assured him. “In such case, since you seem to be the leader here, we’ll
torture you and thereafter two others picked out at random.”

“Death is close behind you, pirate, if you do this thing!” Don Audre
warned.

“But you will not be here to see it if you are roasted first,” the
pirate chief reminded him. “Line up, prisoners! Do _caballeros_ shake
with fear at such a time?”

Don Audre Ruiz took another step forward and sneered in the face of
Barbados. “_Caballeros_ are not aware of the existence of such a thing
as fear!” he declared. “If there is no other way, put down your pack
of cards. But if you have courage and the spirit of fair play, let me
fight it out with any two of your crew of fiends――a dagger against long
blades.”

“Do I resemble a fool?” Barbados requested to know. “Have I but half a
mind? Run a needless chance when we have you powerless already? Ha! A
_caballero_ might do such a fool thing, but I am not a _caballero_.”

“A blind man could see that,” Don Audre retorted.

“Ha! More of your insults and I’ll roast the lot of you! Line up! Here
are the cards.”

Barbados put the greasy pack down on the end of the bench and stood
back, folding his great arms across his chest. Don Audre Ruiz glanced
around at his comrades, and they began forming the line. Sergeant
Gonzales, feeling a bit out of place, dropped back to the end. And then
the line moved forward, and the first man turned a card and saw that it
was a ten, and passed on.

One by one they advanced to the bench, picked up a card, showed it
to Barbados, and moved forward again, playing with death, but with
inscrutable faces.

“Ha!” the pirate chief cried. “Fortunate _caballeros_, eh? But one of
you must draw a deuce soon. And then my men will have rare sport. We’ll
see whether a _caballero_ of gentle blood will squeal and squirm when
the hot flames lick at him. We’ll let the women torment him first, and
the children! Well―― Ha!”

Barbados suddenly bent forward, an evil smile upon his face. Don Audre
had reached the bench and had turned over his card――the deuce of spades!

Don Audre drew in his breath sharply, but his face gave never a sign of
emotion. The others crowded forward.

“Ha!” Barbados shrieked. “It is well done and appropriate! You are
their leader, _señor_, and possibly will set them an example how to
die. For you we will make the fire hotter and the torment longer. We’ll
see how long you can live.”

“He’ll flinch quick enough!” Sanchez cried, grinning.

Don Audre Ruiz tossed the card away and dusted his hands as though the
bit of pasteboard had soiled them. Then he raised his head proudly and
looked Barbados straight in the eyes.

“How soon?” Don Audre Ruiz asked.

“How soon, _caballero_? Now, at once, and immediately! My men crave
sport!” Barbados cried. “And while they listen to your shrieks and
pleas for mercy they can drink some rich wine we took from Reina de Los
Angeles.”

“Are you human man enough to let me have speech with Fray Felipe before
I die?” Don Audre asked.

“Want to pray with him, do you?” Barbados sneered. “I’ll have him at
the stake for you. You can pray through the smoke.”

There was a sudden jostling in the crowd, and Sergeant Gonzales
shouldered his way to the front.

“Foul pirate!” said he. “Murderer and fiend, let me make a deal!”

“What is this?” Barbados asked.

“I am a bigger man than the _caballero_ here, and fatter men roast
better. Also, I wear the uniform of the Governor, and you hate such
uniforms. I’m twice the coward that Don Ruiz is. I’d squirm and squeal
twice as much. Ha! Would it not be better sport to roast me at the
stake?”

“You want to die for him?” Barbados asked.

“I offer myself in his place, since your fiends must be amused. I did
not get a chance to draw a card, or surely I’d have drawn a deuce.”

Don Audre put his hand on the sergeant’s arm.

“This is useless, my friend,” he said.

“Not so!” Sergeant Gonzales declared. “You are a fine man of parts, Don
Audre Ruiz, and really amount to something in the world. And I am but a
big pig. There are many better men who can fill my place.”

“Whatever your birth and station, you are now, in my estimation, a
_caballero_ and a brave man,” Don Audre said.

Barbados roared his laughter.

“A hero!” he sneered. “I cannot let you take the _caballero’s_ place,
fool soldier, but, since you wish to be roasted, your wish is granted.
We’ll roast you later, when we have need of more sport. These other
_caballeros_ will be ransomed, but there is nobody in the world who
would ransom you for as much as a bottle of thin wine.”

“That is true, fiend of hell!” Sergeant Gonzales said.

“But it is not true!” Don Audre Ruiz cried, his face lighting. He
whirled to confront the other _caballeros_. “Friends, promise me
this last request――have your people make up a purse and ransom this
soldier,” he said. “He has been the friend of Don Diego Vega for years.
We used to smile at that peculiar friendship, but now I can understand.
The sergeant, also, is a man of parts, and Don Diego realized it while
we were blind. A last handshake, and then――”

They surged toward him, and Barbados and his men stepped back to the
door and waited. There was an evil grin on the face of the pirate chief
again. The gods of chance were working in his favor, he felt, when they
had delivered this _caballero_ into his hands for his evil purposes.

“Come, _señor_!” he ordered. “It is not gentlemanly to keep my men
waiting long for their fun.”

Don Audre Ruiz shook the hands of his friends for the last time and
turned away. They led him out and closed and barred the door again.
They conducted him through the front room and into the open, first
binding his hands behind his back.

“If you are a human being, let me see Fray Felipe,” Don Audre said.

“I’ll have him beside the stake,” Barbados promised. “He can mumble
over you all he likes.”

Some of the pirates were shouting the news of what was to occur. Men
came running from every direction, shouting and laughing and waving
bottles, determined to see how a _caballero_ could die. Women and
children hurried from their huts.

The stake was ready, for it often had been used before, both for
prisoners and pirates. It was a favorite method Barbados had of
punishing traitors and those he deemed guilty of breaking some of the
many laws he laid down. It stood near the sea, a long metal bar upright
in the soil, the débris of many fires scattered around it and half
buried in the shifting sand.

Already some of the men were hurrying toward the stake with fuel. The
women and children were shrieking insults at the condemned man. But Don
Audre Ruiz held his head proudly, and his lips were curled in scorn.
Only the unusual pallor in his face told that there was a tumult of
emotions within his breast.

They lashed him to the stake and made his body fast there with ropes
and leather thongs. One chain they wrapped around him to hold him fast
after the ropes had been burned away. Women spat at him, children
hurled at him small stones and scoops of sand. The pirates danced
around him like savages, waving wine bottles and brandishing their
cutlasses.

“So you think that you will not squirm and squeal, eh?” Barbados
taunted. “In a very few minutes we’ll learn the truth concerning that.”

“You promised me the _fray_,” Don Audre Ruiz replied. “But I did not
think that a pirate could keep his given word.”

“Ha! I’ll show you that I can play at having gentle blood!” Barbados
laughed. “Matter of honor, eh? The _fray_! Fetch me the old _fray_,
some of you!”

The dancing and drinking was continued, and more fuel was heaped around
the stake and its victim. A few feet distant stood a man with a flaming
torch. Barbados, his arms folded across his chest, stood waiting to
give the word. And after a time old Fray Felipe thrust his way among
them and reached the side of the pirate chief.

“What is this that you would do?” he demanded.

“We intend to broil this _caballero_ until he is done properly,”
Barbados replied. “Being a pious soul, he has need of a priest before
he dies. So we have sent for you.”

Fray Felipe knew that there was small chance for an argument here.
Ordinarily Barbados was exceedingly superstitious where a man of the
church was concerned, but now wine had given him a false courage. If
Fray Felipe saved Don Audre Ruiz now it would not be through an appeal
to the heart of Barbados.

And so Fray Felipe did a peculiar thing――a thing that startled them
all, and Don Audre most of all. He threw back his gray head and laughed.

Barbados blinked his eyes rapidly, and Sanchez swore softly beneath his
breath. Had the _fray_ gone insane suddenly? Were his wits wandering?
It was a horrible thing to see an old _fray_ laugh like that.

“So it is as I suspected,” Fray Felipe declared. “I had thought for a
moment, Barbados, that you were a pirate leader in truth, a general
with brains. But you play the boy.”

“How is this?” Barbados cried.

“Traitors play with you, and you walk into traps. You and your fiends
spend time at such cruel sports as this while your enemies are preparing
to annihilate you――”

“_Fray_, what is your meaning?”

“Are you blind?” Fray Felipe asked. “Are you an utter and simple fool?
You have put your confidence and trust in this Captain Ramón. And at
this moment he is riding back from San Diego de Alcála at the head of
the troopers, perhaps.”

“Ha! I know it, _fray_. He is leading the soldiers into an ambush!”

“So you are such an easy dupe!” Fray Felipe said. “I know his plans,
and so does the little _señorita_. You will form your ambush at the
head of the cañon. And he will lead the troopers around it, attack you
in the rear, cut you off from your camp, and annihilate you. By doing
that he’ll save his face and gain favor with decent men and women
and with the Governor. He’ll claim that he saved the _señorita_, and
ask her in marriage, get her for a bride without cutting himself off
forever from honest men. A man who can be traitor to one cause, Señor
Pirate, can be traitor to another.”

“Lies!” Barbados thundered.

“They are not lies!” Fray Felipe declared. “And you are playing here
when you should be preparing for the battle. Easy victims you’ll be for
the troopers!”

Barbados seemed to hesitate. There was a quality in the _fray’s_ words
and bearing that indicated truth. Then there came a woman’s screech,
and Inez thrust herself forward.

“The old _fray_ speaks the truth!” she declared. “I overheard the
_commandante_ talking to the _señorita_. He told her that he was
tricking you.”

“By my naked blade!” Barbados swore.

“He is doubly a traitor!” the woman screeched. “I would not trust him.
Make ready to fight the soldiers. Do not be caught in a trap. The man
at the stake can wait. It will not hurt him to be bound there and
meditate for a time.”

Barbados suddenly seemed convinced. He began shouting his commands, and
Sanchez echoed them as usual.

Men also ran to get horses and weapons.

“Catch me in a trap, eh?” Barbados cried. “I can arrange a trap myself,
and not in the cañon!”

He rushed away, shrieking more orders. Don Audre Ruiz, fastened to the
stake, was forgotten for the moment. Fray Felipe approached him.

“It was the only way, _caballero_,” the gentle _fray_ said. “It would
have been far better to have let the traitor wipe out these rogues
entirely, but I had to save your life. And the soldiers will triumph
when they come. Right is on their side and fights with them. Also Señor
Zorro is at liberty!”

“Loose me, fray!”

“I cannot, _señor_. There is one chain that is too strong for me. But
they have forgotten you now. I’ll search for some tool with which I can
remove the chain. The ropes and the leather thongs will be easy.”

Fray Felipe bowed his head and shuffled away. Don Audre Ruiz remained
lashed to the stake.




                            CHAPTER XXVIII.

                           UNEXPECTED HELP.


Left behind helpless in the guard room of the _presidio_, Señor Zorro
fought to control his emotions, telling himself that he could think out
no proper line of action while his brain was in sad tumult.

His case seemed hopeless. He was unable to make an escape, and Captain
Ramón was leading the troopers against the pirates. Señor Zorro began
wondering whether his good fortune had deserted him entirely. The
_señorita_ was in grave peril, and also his friends the _caballeros_,
and he could do nothing.

But there was a certain outside influence at work regarding which
Señor Zorro knew nothing, an influence caused by his just acts when,
as Zorro, he had ridden up and down El Camino Real righting the wrongs
inflicted on _frailes_ and natives.

The native fisherman had guided him to the vicinity of the pirates’
camp before dawn, and then had disappeared. Señor Zorro did not wonder
at that, since it was commendable in the native to save his own skin.

The fisherman, however, had continued across the hills to San Diego
de Alcála to pay a visit to relatives and friends. There he waited
impatiently, anticipating news of a fight at the pirates’ camp. And,
because he admired uniforms, though they inspired fear in him as well
as admiration, he drifted near the _presidio_.

He was in time to behold the arrival of Captain Ramón, and later of
Señor Zorro. After a time, he saw Señor Zorro’s attempt at escape,
and watched the troopers gallop away. And then, by loitering near the
_presidio_, he ascertained something of the truth――that Señor Zorro was
being held a prisoner in the maniac’s shirt and would be dealt with at
some future time.

The native wandered around the huts of the village, doing more genuine
thinking than ever before in his life. He remembered how Señor Zorro, a
long time before, had saved his father. He was a neophyte native, and
he remembered, also, how Señor Zorro had fought for the _frailes_ when
they were being persecuted.

The native fisherman did not have to think long on the subject before
arriving at a conclusion. Having done so, he went to the hut of a
cousin and begged a bottle of palm wine, potent stuff that could make a
man mad.

He took a good drink of the palm wine and slipped away, carrying the
bottle. He had a short, sharp knife that he used for the cleaning of
fish, and he took this out and inspected it, and then hid it beneath
his ragged shirt and in an armpit, fastening it there cleverly with a
bit of rag.

Having made these preparations, the native fisherman drank more of the
wine and gathered false courage. He spilled some of the liquor on his
sorry clothes, so that its well-known odor mingled with that of fish.
And then he approached the _presidio_ again.

One of the two troopers remaining was sitting before the main door,
and the other, supposedly, was in the corridor outside the guard room,
where his duty called him. The native fisherman went close to the man
before the door and regarded him evilly. He held up the bottle and
guzzled more of the palm wine. The trooper looked up and saw him.

“Dog of a savage!” he cried. “Know you not that it is against the laws
and the wishes of his excellency for natives to drink the stuff?”

The native blinked his eyes at him. “May the devil take the laws,” said
he, boldly, “and his excellency also!”

“What words are these?” the soldier cried, getting to his feet.

“Every man who wears a uniform is a rascal and a thief!”

“This to me? A dog of a native speaks so to one of the soldiers of the
Governor?”

“If the Governor was here,” said the native, “I’d throw this drink in
his face! And if you trouble me more, I’ll throw it in yours!”

“Ha! In that case――”

“For you dare not put me in the guard room!” the native declared. “I
have too many friends.”

The trooper exploded and rushed forward. “Low-born dog!” he shrieked.
He caught the native and cuffed him, and instead of taking the blows
calmly, the native fought back. It was too much!

“Into the guard room you go!” the soldier shouted. “And when the
_commandante_ returns he probably will order you whipped. And I’ll
wield the lash! Give me that bottle!”

The trooper took the bottle and sat it down carefully, having noticed
that it was half full, then hustled the native inside and along the
corridor to the door of the guard room. The other soldier looked up
questioningly.

“This dog has been drinking palm wine and making remarks about his
excellency!” the first soldier said. “Throw him into the guard house.
He is fit company for Señor Zorro!”

The door was opened, the native was hurled inside, and the door was
closed and barred again. The two soldiers peered through the small
aperture in it. They saw the native pick himself up and look around as
though dazed.

“Ha!” one of the troopers cried. “He will wonder what it is all about
before morning. That palm wine is dangerous stuff.”

“And I took half a bottle of it from the dog before we put him in,” the
other whispered.

“Let us watch a moment before we sample it.”

The native glanced toward the corner where Señor Zorro, in the maniac’s
shirt, was propped up on a bench. He lurched toward him, bent forward,
and peered into his face.

“A white man!” he gasped. “In the guard room the same as me!”

He threw out his chest and strutted around the room, as though a great
honor had come to him. The soldiers at the door laughed. The native
turned and blinked his eyes at them, mouthed some meaningless phrases,
and appeared to be dazed again. Twice he shrieked like a soul in
torment. He beat his fists against the wall of the guard room.

“_Sí!_ That wine is strong stuff!” one of the soldiers said.

Still they remained watching. But the native, it seemed, was exhausted.
He slipped down to the floor, crawled over against the wall, and let
his head topple to one side. Twice he nodded, and then he began to
snore. The troopers closed the little door of the aperture. The fun was
over.

Though he had recognized the native, Señor Zorro had spoken no word.
He was not certain whether the man was under the influence of palm
wine or shamming. He listened and heard the two soldiers walk down the
corridor, then turned his head and glanced at the native again. The
native had opened one of his eyes and was watching the door.

“They are drinking your wine,” Zorro hissed.

“_Sí, señor!_ One moment!”

The native slipped slowly and carefully along the wall until he was
within a few feet of Señor Zorro.

“I thought it out, _señor_,” he said. “I know those maniac’s shirts,
for once they bound me and put me in one. And I have a sharp knife――”

“Careful!” Señor Zorro warned. “If you succeed in this I will make you
rich for life!”

“I am not doing it for riches, but because you have been kind to my
people and to the _frailes_,” the native said. “I must do my work
swiftly.”

He had the knife out now, and began working at the tough leather of the
shirt. The thong that drew the shirt about the neck was fastened with
a metal clasp, a sort of lock, and so the tough leather had to be cut.
The native sawed through it, and loosened the thong.

He stopped to slip noiselessly across to the door and crouch and listen
there. He hurried back and began peeling the leather sack off Señor
Zorro. He worked frantically, guessing what would be in store for him
if he happened to be caught.

“If I escape, then must you do so,” Señor Zorro said. “And keep away
from San Diego de Alcála for many moons to come.”

“I understand, _señor_. And, if I do not escape, remember, please, that
I did what a poor man could.”

“I’ll help you, and I can.”

“A good horse belonging to one of these soldiers is just in front of
the _presidio, señor_.”

“Good!”

“And some daggers are in leather boots near the front door, on the
wall.”

“Again, good!” Señor Zorro said.

The native slashed the last of the bonds, and Zorro stood and moved his
limbs to restore circulation. Then he motioned the native toward the
door.

“Stand on that side,” Zorro directed. “And shriek as though you were
being killed.”

The native shrieked. Señor Zorro himself felt shivers run up and down
his spine at those blood-curdling shrieks. The two soldiers listened,
and then hurried back toward the guard room. They opened the little
aperture in the door. They saw neither of their prisoners, but they did
see the empty maniac’s shirt in one corner of the room.

And then they did what Señor Zorro had judged they would do――unlock
and open the door and rush inside. Zorro hurled himself upon the
first and floored him, rolled aside just in time to escape the rush
of the second, delivered a blow that laid this second on the floor
unconscious, got the dagger from the soldier’s belt, and whirled to
take the rush of the first, now upon his feet again.

“Fly!” he ordered the native. But the fisherman stood just outside the
door, waiting to see the outcome.

Señor Zorro had no quarrel with the soldiery, and he did not want to
wound a trooper. But it was demanded of him that he make an escape as
quickly as possible, and make certain that he could not be followed for
some minutes.

And so he rushed his man with the dagger, and the other gave ground
and put himself on guard. But suddenly Señor Zorro whirled and rushed
backward instead of attacking, darted through the door, slammed it
shut, and shot home the bar. Inside were the two soldiers.

“_Señores, adios!_” Zorro said at the aperture. “I regret that you
cannot accompany me and see the fighting.”

“For this――” one of the imprisoned troopers began.

“Have you ever seen this one?” Señor Zorro asked. And he slammed shut
the door of the aperture, laughed loudly, saw that the native fisherman
was free, and ran like the wind down the corridor and through the front
door and into the sunshine.

A moment later he was in the saddle and galloping like a madman in the
wake of Captain Ramón and the troopers.




                             CHAPTER XXIX.

                          THE PLIGHT OF RUIZ.


Captain Ramón, riding with the lieutenant at the head of the soldiery,
considered his plans.

The captain had told Barbados how to arrange an ambush at the head
of the cañon, and he expected to lead the troopers around the ambush
and to the rear, cutting the pirates off from their camp, and either
exterminating them at once in the cañon or driving them up into the
open, where the troopers could ride them down one by one.

Captain Ramón knew, of course and naturally, that the pirates would
be watching the advance. But, just at the mouth of the cañon, Captain
Ramón could lead the soldiers swiftly to one side and reach the rear
before the pirates could understand the maneuver and hasten back to
protect themselves.

He had not the slightest doubt regarding the outcome. The troopers were
about equal in numbers to the pirates, and while the latter would fight
desperately, knowing that capture meant the hangman’s rope for them,
the troopers were seasoned men who had been through several native
uprisings and knew how to handle themselves in battle.

The soldiers had a few pistols, but they were not to be depended on
so much as blades and a hand-to-hand conflict. The pirates had a few
firearms also, but they lacked ammunition. It would be swords against
cutlasses for the greater part, Captain Ramón knew, and the advantage
would be with the troopers’ swords.

As to his own part, Ramón realized well that Barbados would recognize
his treachery at once. And so there would be no protection for him from
the pirates after Barbados had passed the word to get him, and Ramón
would have to fight with the soldiers as a loyal officer. But he did
not doubt the outcome of the combat, and so felt secure.

They rode swiftly and in perfect military formation along the dusty
highway, and presently turned off and galloped across rolling country
toward the sea. Now they proceeded with caution, flankers out, but they
did not slacken speed. It was mid-afternoon, and they wanted to do
their work before nightfall.

They approached the mouth of the cañon, and Captain Ramón shaded his
eyes and peered ahead, but could see nothing human. The pirates were
under cover, he supposed, waiting for the troopers to ride down into
the narrow cañon and so into a trap from which they could not escape.
Ramón spoke his plans to the lieutenant again, and the junior officer
nodded that he understood the arrangements perfectly.

They came to the cañon’s end, but swerved suddenly toward the right and
galloped along the rim and up a gentle slope, the last before reaching
the sea. Captain Ramón expected to hear roars of rage from the cañon,
but he did not. He almost chuckled. Barbados evidently supposed that
the _commandante_ was playing some trick, he took it for granted.

They reached the crest of the slope and pulled up among the trees and
looked down upon the pirate camp. A few women and children were running
about, but they could see no men.

“Down the slope, then turn and gallop back toward the cañon,” Captain
Ramón instructed. “Thus we take them in the rear and have the rogues at
our mercy!”

“How do you know that they are in the cañon?” the lieutenant asked with
quick suspicion.

“Did I not hear this Señor Zorro make his plans?” Captain Ramón
demanded with some show of anger. “Am I not your superior officer? They
are now in the cañon, expecting us to gallop into the trap they have
planned.”

“Then they saw us approach,” the lieutenant declared.

“_Sí!_ And they are wondering what is happening, no doubt. It is
possible that they have seen me at the head of the troopers and have
noticed that Señor Zorro is not present. But they have not had time
to get back to their camp. Their trap has been turned against them.
Forward!”

Down the slope swept the troopers, and women and children screeched and
ran into the huts and buildings. In a big circle the soldiers from San
Diego de Alcála swerved and started back toward the cañon’s mouth to
hem in their foes.

And, in that instant, the _commandante_ found that things were not as
he had expected, and that he had been fooled. Reports of firearms came
to his ears, bullets whistled among the troopers, and some of them fell
from their saddles. And from the huts and buildings of the pirate camp
poured the motley crew of Barbados, screeching their battle-cries,
eager to wipe out the soldiery that would have tricked and slain them.

Captain Ramón cursed and began shouting commands. The troopers fired
their pistols, drew their blades, and prepared for bloody and more
intimate work. From behind the largest adobe building dashed a number
of mounted pirates, Barbados and Sanchez riding at their head.

“At them!” the _commandante_ shrieked wildly. “Forward! No mercy!”

The lieutenant, who was by far the better field officer, was endeavoring
to make himself heard above the din. The pirates and the soldiers
clashed, fought like maniacs, the troopers at the outset having much the
better of it. But Barbados and his mounted pirates joined the battle and
fought like fiends, because they saw visions of the hangman’s noose if
they failed to achieve a victory complete.

Captain Ramón had one close look at the face of Barbados, and heard the
pirate chief shriek “Traitor!” at him. Thereafter he managed to keep
well in the rear of the fighting, under pretense of handling the men.
His blade was the only one not red.

Ramón had no intention of liberating the _caballeros_ until the fight
was over, for he wanted to claim full credit for rescuing them. He
wanted another talk with the Señorita Lolita, too, before her friends
approached her. She had not given him the promise that he had expected,
and the necessity for it was over, since Zorro was free of the pirate
camp. But Ramón hoped to get the promise yet, and have an immediate
marriage, saying that he was the one man who could give testimony
that would save Señor Zorro if he was tried for conspiracy against the
Governor.

The battle waged around him. Barbados and his pirate crew were
endeavoring to keep between the troopers and the adobe building wherein
the _caballeros_ were held prisoners. The _caballeros_ were crowding at
the little windows, watching the fight. Don Audre Ruiz was still bound
to the stake, for Fray Felipe had been unable to reach him before the
fighting began, and now the aged _fray_ was busy with the wounded men.

The _señorita_ was under the close guard of a single pirate appointed
to the task by Barbados. She was in one of the buildings, and Captain
Ramón did not know where to find her. Convinced of the _commandante’s_
treachery, Barbados had no thought of letting him get possession of the
_señorita_. She could be held for ransom, the pirate chief decided.

Back and forth across the open space, up and down the sandy beach the
fight progressed. Here groups of men were battling like fiends, here
one pursued a lone enemy. The women and children were keeping to the
huts.

“Fire the place!” Captain Ramón was ordering. “Burn them out!”

Some of the troopers were quick to do his bidding. A pistol flash was
enough. The poor huts began burning fiercely, the dry palm fronds with
which they were manufactured flaming instantly.

Ramón began to worry some. The battle seemed an even thing. Both sides
had lost many men, and the two forces now were about even. It came to
his mind that, unless the soldiers triumphed very soon, he would have
to release the _caballeros_ and let them join in the fray.

Back toward the slope the pirates drove the remaining troopers. And
there the battle waged at some distance from the burning huts of the
pirate camp. The women tried to quench the flames, but could not. The
wind from the sea carried flaming pieces of palm frond and fired more
huts.

Don Audre Ruiz had tugged at his bonds until almost exhausted, but had
been unable to get free. Once the battle surged near him, and then away
again. Clouds of smoke from the burning huts rolled over him, surged
around him. Great chunks of flaming material floated past him on the
still breeze.

Don Audre wondered whether the pirates were to be victorious, whether,
in the end, they would roast him at the stake, as they had started to
do. He choked in the dense smoke; his eyes smarted and then pained; he
tried to see how the fight was going, but could only get a glimpse now
and then.

And then he saw something that caused a thrill of horror to pass
through him. One of the burning brands had fallen at the edge of the
pile of fuel about the stake. It smoldered, burst into flames again.
The fuel caught, and the flames spread.

Don Audre Ruiz, helpless against the stake, watched the flames creep
nearer, the fire spread and become more raging. Once more he struggled
hopelessly against the chain and ropes that held him fast. What irony
was this that he should burn without human hands firing the fuel?

Already he could feel the heat of the flames. Slowly they were eating
their way toward him through the heaps of fuel the pirates had dropped.
Soon they would touch him, smoke and fire would engulf him, and later
men would find naught but his charred remains.




                             CHAPTER XXX.

                     FRAY FELIPE GETS HIS GOBLET.


Señor Zorro thanked his saints that the horse he had seized in front of
the _presidio_ at San Diego de Alcála was a noble animal of endurance
and speed.

He kicked at the mount’s flanks and rode like the wind in the wake of
the troopers. He knew that he was gaining on them, but they had such an
advantage of time that he realized he could not reach the pirate camp
before Ramón and his soldiers.

As his horse negotiated the last slope before reaching the sea, Señor
Zorro could hear, coming from a distance, the din of battle. He stopped
his mount in the fringe of trees and looked down upon the scene.

The soldiers and pirates were fighting hotly at some distance from
the buildings. The huts were ablaze. Women and children were trying
to escape into the brush. These things Señor Zorro saw at a glance,
and also that the fight was an even one, with the advantage to neither
force.

He ascertained that the _caballeros_ were still prisoners. Only a
moment he hesitated, and then he kicked at the horse’s flanks again
and raced the animal down the slope. The fight was to one side of him,
and so he encountered neither soldier nor pirate. He had a glimpse of
Ramón in the distance, and believed that Ramón saw him in turn. He rode
wildly among the blazing huts, and so came to the adobe building where
the prisoners were housed.

Señor Zorro sprang from his horse and dashed into the building. With
a metal bar, he broke the lock of the inner door and shrieked to the
_caballeros_ that they were free.

“Follow me to your weapons!” he shouted. “Fight with the troopers
against the pirates! Catch me this renegade and traitor of a Ramón!
Remember, Ramón is mine!”

They answered him with glad shouts and rushed at his heels out of the
building and toward the hut where the captured weapons had been placed,
and before which there were no guards now. The roof of the hut already
was blazing.

Señor Zorro kicked open the door, dashed inside, and began tossing out
swords. The _caballeros_ rushed forward, shouting as they claimed their
weapons. Zorro dashed outside again, his own beloved blade in his hand.
Already the _caballeros_ were running toward the fight.

“Zorro, by the saints!” It was the bellowing voice of Sergeant Gonzales
that hailed him. “What is this talk of my captain being a traitor?”

“He is!” Zorro cried. “He was in league with the pirates, and then
turned against them. He is a double traitor! Forward, sergeant! Use
your blade well! Ruiz! Where is Ruiz?”

“The devils took him out to roast him at the stake,” the sergeant
replied. “That was long before the fighting began.”

“To roast him――” Señor Zorro gasped.

“Let me at a pirate!” the sergeant bellowed, dashing away. “There are
scores to settle!”

Señor Zorro, his heart sinking within him, peered around through the
smoke. And then hope flamed within him again, for in the distance he
saw Don Audre Ruiz, the flames leaping around him. Señor Zorro ran
swiftly through the billows of smoke toward the stake.

Don Audre’s clothing already was being scorched. He had turned his head
away from the smoke and the heat, fighting to the last to keep from
drawing deadly flame down into his lungs, and his eyes were closed.

He did not see the swift approach of Señor Zorro, did not guess that
rescue was at hand until he heard Zorro’s voice.

“Audre!” he cried. “Audre! Speak to me! If the fiends have slain you――”

Don Audre Ruiz opened his eyes and smiled, and Señor Zorro smiled in
reply. Then he kicked away the burning fuel and leaped toward his
friend.

“You are just in time,” Don Audre said. “I had given up hope, Diego, my
friend.”

“A moment, and I’ll have you free!”

He tore away the ropes and leather thongs, and worked frantically at
the heavy chain, which was hot to his touch. He was alert and on guard
as he worked, but the fight did not approach him. The _caballeros_ had
joined it, he saw, and the pirates were being cut down, and some taken
prisoner.

And finally the heavy chain fell away, and Señor Zorro helped Don Audre
a short distance from the stake and thrust a sword into his hand.

“Remember, Ramón belongs to me!” Zorro said. “Let us take him alive!”

Afoot, they dashed across the open space toward the edge of the fight.
But they looked in vain for the _commandante_. He was not in his
saddle, nor was he dead or wounded and on the ground.

“Find him!” Zorro cried. “He will be trying to get the _señorita_ away!”

They ran toward the adobe buildings to commence their frantic search.
They watched the slope, and the beach in either direction, half
expecting to see the _commandante_ carrying Señorita Lolita away on
his horse.

“Find him! We must find him!” Zorro screeched. “With me, Audre, my
friend! She may be in one of the burning huts――”

And so they rushed through the smoke, calling, searching, fear in their
hearts.

Sergeant Gonzales was looking for his captain also. The sergeant told
himself that he was in a quandary. His commander and his friend, it
appeared, were fighting each other, and the sergeant could not be loyal
to both.

He bellowed a challenge and engaged a pirate in combat, took his man,
and rushed on. He dodged a charging trooper who almost ran him down,
darted around one of the blazing huts, and came upon a scene.

Fray Felipe, attending the wounded, had risen from the ground beside
one to find a pirate rushing toward him in flight. The man stumbled and
fell headlong, and from the sash he wore about his middle there fell
something that flashed and glittered in the sun. Fray Felipe gave a cry
and rushed forward. He had seen his beloved sacred goblet!

There was no escape for the pirate. When he regained his feet he found
the old _fray_ standing before him.

“Beast and fiend!” Fray Felipe said. “Give it me!”

“Ha! Would I not be a fool to do so?” the pirate challenged. “One side,
_fray_! One side――or you die!”

The other raised his cutlass to strike. But Fray Felipe could not be
driven back by such means while the sacred goblet was in the possession
of the other.

“Give it me!” he commanded.

“One side――”

Fray Felipe took a quick step forward and jerked the goblet from the
other’s hand. The pirate cursed and darted forward again. Fray Felipe
caught the descending arm.

Back and forth they struggled, and the _fray_ dropped the goblet to the
ground again. He was a strong man for his age, but the pirate was young
and strong also. He forced Fray Felipe back against the wall of the
burning hut, throttled him, raised the cutlass again.

“I warned you, _fray_!” the pirate hissed.

And then he hissed again, a hiss of pain and fright. Through his body
a blade had been plunged. He dropped the cutlass, threw wide his arms,
shrieked once more, and fell with face toward the ground. And Sergeant
Gonzales merely glanced down at him, then picked up the goblet, wiped
it against his tunic, and bowed before Fray Felipe.

“Allow me,” the sergeant said. “It is a fortunate thing that I was
near, _fray_!”

“I thank thee, son!”

“Son?” Gonzales cried. “You call an old sinner like me by such a name?”

“Perhaps you hold more worth than you yourself think,” the old _fray_
replied.

Sergeant Gonzales could not endure such talk. He grew redder in the
face, blew out his cheeks, gulped and cleared his throat.

“I am a rough soldier!” Sergeant Gonzales declared. “And I belong in
the battle, which is almost at an end.”

“Go, son, and my blessings go with thee!”

Gonzales bowed his head an instant. Then, as though ashamed of himself,
he bellowed at nothing at all and charged away through the smoke.




                             CHAPTER XXXI.

                     “MEAL MUSH AND GOAT’S MILK!”


The appearance of Señor Zorro at the scene of battle when he was
supposed to be behind bars in the _presidio_ at San Diego de Alcála
terrified Captain Ramón. He had a sudden feeling that the fates were
against him――that his treachery was to be punished. And he found that
his plans were ruined again.

He had no faith in a personal encounter with Señor Zorro. Something
seemed to tell him that such would result fatally for himself. And he
had small faith in proving Zorro a traitor after the fight, and a great
fear that Zorro and some of the captured pirates would, on the other
hand, prove him to be one.

Captain Ramón felt desperate. He had an idea that the _señorita_ was
under pirate guard in one of the buildings. He would make away with the
guard and get her, he decided――ride with her away from the camp and
scene of battle.

He could say, afterward, that he had believed the pirates were to be
victorious, and that he wanted to rescue the _señorita_ while yet there
was time. Possibly he could make them believe that he had departed
before he saw the _caballeros_ released and the tide of battle turned.

He had no definite plans after that. Perhaps, he thought, he could keep
the _señorita_ a prisoner of his own in some out of the way place, and
force her to consent to wed him. Any wandering _fray_ could perform
the ceremony. Or, all else failing, he could turn criminal, play
highwayman, force the _señorita_ to do his bidding. In an emergency,
a knife thrust in the heart, a secret grave, and Captain Ramón could
wander back among men, saying he had seen nothing of her, possibly
claiming that a blow on the head during the battle had robbed him
of his wits, and that he did not know where he had been or what had
happened.

Captain Ramón had a fertile brain when it came to plotting. He watched
for his chance, and escaped through the clouds of smoke, urging his
horse to its utmost. He galloped around behind the buildings, so
that the smoke screened his movements. Behind an adobe building he
dismounted, and then crept along the wall toward the front. He crouched
beside a window, lifted himself slowly, and peered inside.

There sat the _señorita_, her hands to her face, and lounging near the
door was one of the pirates on guard.

The _commandante_ drew his blade and crept nearer the door. He waited
for a lull in the din of battle and then shouted loudly.

“At you!” he cried. “Die, soldier!”

The subterfuge had immediate results. The pirate opened the door,
stepped out a couple of feet, and peered into the smoke. Captain Ramón
guessed that the fellow thought the battle was drawing near.

A quick thrust, and the pirate was down, coughing out the blood of his
life. Captain Ramón dashed into the building, sheathing his red blade.

The _señorita_ sprang to her feet.

“Quick, _señorita_! There is scant time!” he cried. “The pirates are
having the best of it――”

“I am safer with them than with you!” she said with scorn.

He reached out and grasped her cruelly by the wrist.

“There is to be no more nonsense!” he exclaimed. “I am master here! You
do as I say, _señorita_! Come with me!”

“Beast!” she cried.

“Hard words will not stop me now. Am I to be balked by a bit of
womankind?”

He jerked her forward, put an arm around her, half lifted her from the
floor, and carried her out of the building and through the billowing
smoke. Around the corner he hurried, to his horse. Still holding her by
the wrist, he vaulted into the saddle, then pulled her up before him.

“Help!” she cried. “Diego! Zorro!”

“Ha! Call to the fiend, but this time he does not come!” Captain Ramón
exclaimed.

But Señor Zorro had heard her shriek. And the smoke lifted, and he and
Don Audre Ruiz saw the _commandante_ on the horse, the _señorita_ held
before him. Captain Ramón saw them, too, and kicked frantically at the
animal’s ribs. The frightened horse plunged away through the smoke.

Señor Zorro was more maniac than sane man as he dashed forward to
follow. The fight swerved toward him. He sprang up and grasped a
soldier, pulled him out of the saddle, sprang into the saddle himself,
and gave chase.

Out of the clouds of smoke he rode, to see the _commandante_ and his
prisoner a short distance to the left. In the smoke Captain Ramón had
lost his bearings for a moment.

Señor Zorro shrieked a challenge, whirled his horse, and took after his
foe. Ramón found that he could not get up the slope without meeting
Zorro and having a clash with him――the thing he most wanted to avoid.
Desperate, he whirled his horse and charged back into the smoke again,
thinking to outwit his pursuer.

Suddenly he found himself in the thick of the fighting. Again he
whirled his horse. The frightened steed refused to answer rein or
pressure of knees, refused to spring forward at the cruel touch of
spurs. The smoke swirled away on a breath of breeze. And Captain
Ramón found himself inside a ring of _caballeros_, two of whom were
holding his horse, another reaching to help the _señorita_ down, others
reaching up to seize him.

Señor Zorro came to a stop within a few feet of him, and dismounted
swiftly, a grim look in his face.

“Down, renegade!” Zorro commanded.

Captain Ramón, in the face of such an emergency, could appear calm,
though he was not. He sneered, lifted his brows as though in wonder,
and slowly got from the saddle. Once he looked straight at Zorro, and
then around the circle.

The fighting was at an end. What pirates had not been slain were
captives. Barbados, himself a captive, stood to one side under guard.
The lieutenant and his troopers were coming forward.

Ramón called to the officer. “Here is your Señor Zorro!” he shouted.
“In some strange manner he has escaped the _presidio_. Seize him and
see that he does not escape again!”

The lieutenant gave a quick command, and some of the troopers
dismounted and started forward. But they found before them a line of
determined _caballeros_ with ready swords.

Don Audre Ruiz bowed before the lieutenant and spoke. “_Señor_,” he
said, “I dislike exceedingly to interfere with a man in the proper
performance of his duty. But I must ask you and your men to stand back
for a time. There is a little matter between Señor Zorro and Captain
Ramón that must be settled.”

“I am in command here, under Captain Ramón,” the lieutenant said. “This
Señor Zorro is an escaped prisoner.”

“Nevertheless, you must remain quiet until the affair is at an end,”
Don Audre said. “The _caballeros_ are equal in number to your troopers
now. If you care to fight it out――”

“Do you realize that you are taking up arms against the Governor?” the
lieutenant demanded.

“As to that, we are not alarmed,” Don Audre replied. “This Ramón is a
renegade and a traitor!”

“Ha! That he is!” cried Barbados. “He joined hands with us, planned
for us to raid Reina de Los Angeles and steal the girl. Then he turns
against us, plans to trap us! Traitor and dog, he is!”

“And I say so, too,” Don Audre declared. “Here are a number of
gentlemen whose honors and names are unquestioned, _señor_. If there is
a mistake made here this afternoon we will be responsible for it and
take the consequences.”

The lieutenant looked puzzled. Certainly he did not want to arouse
the hostility of those of gentle blood by setting his troopers on the
_caballeros_; and he doubted the outcome of the fight if he did that.

“Arrest the fellow!” Ramón thundered. “Are you to be held back by these
meddlers?”

An open palm cracked against his cheek as he finished speaking. Señor
Zorro stood before him, blade held ready. Don Audre Ruiz took the
_señorita_ by her arm and led her away.

“Ramón, double traitor and plotter against peace!” Señor Zorro
addressed him. “Abductor of women! Foul in word and action and thought!
On guard, _señor_!”

Captain Ramón felt like a trapped animal. He saw his sergeant in the
ring.

“Gonzales!” he shrieked. “Seize that man! I command it!”

“I do not take commands from traitors!” the sergeant replied.

“I’ll have you punished――”

“’Tis you will receive the punishment, when you gather courage enough
to lift your blade,” Gonzales replied.

Don Audre Ruiz had turned the _señorita_ over to Fray Felipe. The old
_fray_ knew better than to make an attempt to prevent the duel. He
belonged to the times, and he understood such things.

“On guard, _señor_!” Zorro warned again. “I do not like to pollute my
blade with your blood, yet must it be done! On guard, renegade! Must I
cut down a man who will not defend himself?”

Señor Zorro advanced a step. Captain Ramón, his face white, started
to raise his sword. He did not believe, could not force himself to
believe, that he would be a victor. Yet he could do his best!

The blades touched. And in the next instant Señor Zorro had sprung
backward, and a chorus of cries had come from those in the ring.

For Barbados, not watched as carefully as he should have been watched,
had taken vengeance himself. He thrust one of his guards aside,
snatched a dagger from the belt of another. His arm went up, came
forward, the dagger whistled through the air. And it lodged in Captain
Ramón’s back, the point in his heart.

“That for a traitor!” Barbados cried. “Since I must be hanged, let me
settle accounts first! Señor Zorro, you are a man! I, who have fought
you, say it! Your blade is too true, _señor_, to be buried in a foul
carcass such as that!”

                   *       *       *       *       *

The moonlight came again, touching the sea with glory and showing the
trading schooner running up the coast before the breeze. Those of the
crew who had been left aboard handled her well, and the _caballeros_
gave aid.

Away from the scene of carnage the little ship rushed, the water
hissing at her bows. Fray Felipe was polishing his beloved goblet. Don
Audre Ruiz and his _caballeros_ were dressing their hurts in the cabin.
Big Sergeant Gonzales was wandering on the deck.

The sergeant stopped near the rail, leaned against it, looked over the
sparkling sea toward the dark line that indicated the land.

Voices came to him, the voices of Zorro and the little _señorita_.

“The sword of Zorro! Let us hope that it has a long rest,” the
_señorita_ said.

“A long rest!” Señor Zorro echoed. “As soon as we are at Reina de Los
Angeles we’ll be wed by Fray Felipe.”

“_Sí!_” she said softly.

“Then years of happiness and peace.”

“_Sí!_”

“Yet, I am not sorry for what has happened,” said Señor Zorro. “It has
brought us closer together. Peril knits hearts, _señorita_.”

“Once――when I thought that you were dead――”

Sergeant Gonzales observed a suspicious silence at this juncture. He
raised his head and peered through the gloom around the mast. He could
see nothing at all save the inky darkness there, but he heard a sound
that needed no translation. It was the sound of a kiss.

“Meal mush and goat’s milk!” said the sergeant.


                              (The end.)




 Transcriber’s Notes:

 ――This six-part serialized novel is from six consecutive 1922 issues
   (May 6 to June 10, 1922) of the Argosy-AllStory Weekly magazine.

 ――A chapter Contents has been provided for the convenience of the
   reader, and is granted to the public domain.

 ――Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).

 ――Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.

 ――Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.

 ――Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.