The further adventures of Zorro

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.)