The Mark of Zorro (15 page)

“We could be married at the mission of San Gabriel, only we should have to make the confounded journey there. Fray Felipe, of the mission, has been my friend from the days of my boyhood, and I would have him say the words, unless you prefer otherwise. He could come to Reina de Los Angeles and read the ceremony in the little church on the plaza there.”

“I shall think of it,” the girl said again.

“Perhaps I may come out again to see you within a few days, if I survive this night.
Buenas noches, señorita!
I suppose I should—er—kiss your hand?”

“You need not take the trouble,” Señorita Lolita replied. “It might fatigue you.”

“Ah—thank you! You are thoughtful, I see. I am fortunate if I get me a thoughtful wife.”

Don Diego sauntered to the door. Señorita Lolita rushed into her own room and beat at her breasts with her hands, and tore at her hair a bit, too angry, too enraged to weep. Kiss her hand, indeed! Señor Zorro had not suggested it—he had done it. Señor Zorro had dared death to visit her! Señor Zorro had laughed as he fought, and then had escaped by a trick! Ah, if Don Diego Vega were half the man this highwayman appeared!

She heard the soldiers gallop away, and after a little time she heard Don Diego Vega depart in her father's carriage. And then she went out into the great room again to her parents.

“My father, it is impossible that I wed with Don Diego Vega,” she said.

“What has caused your decision, my daughter?”

“I scarcely can tell, except that he is not the sort of man I wish for my husband. He is lifeless; existence with him would be a continual torment.”

“Captain Ramón also has asked permission to pay you his addresses,” Doña Catalina said.

“And he is almost as bad. I do not like the look in his eyes,” the girl replied.

“You are too particular,” Don Carlos told her. “If the persecution continues another year we shall be beggars. Here is the best catch in the country seeking you, and you would refuse him. And you do not like a high army officer because you do not fancy the look in his eyes!

“Think on it, girl! An alliance with Don Diego Vega is much to be desired. Perhaps, when you know him better, you will like him more. And the man may awaken. I thought I saw a flash of it this night, deemed him jealous because of the presence of the captain here. If you can arouse his jealousy—”

Señorita Lolita burst into tears, but soon the tempest of weeping passed, and she dried her eyes.

“I—I shall do my best to like him,” she said. “But I cannot bring myself to say, yet, that I will be his wife.”

She hurried into her room again, and called for the native woman who attended her. Soon the house was in darkness, and the grounds about it, save for the fires down by the adobe huts, where the natives told one another grim tales of the night's events, each trying to make his falsehood the greatest. A gentle snore came from the apartment of Don Carlos Pulido and his wife.

But the Señorita Lolita did not slumber. She had her head propped on one hand, and she was looking through a window at the fires in the distance, and her mind was full of thoughts of Señor Zorro.

She remembered the grace of his bow, the music of his deep voice, the touch of his lips upon her palm.

“I would he were not a rogue!” she sighed. “How a woman could love such a man!”

Shortly after daybreak the following morning there was considerable tumult in the plaza at Reina de Los Angeles. Sergeant Pedro Gonzales was there with a score of troopers, almost all that were stationed at the local
presidio,
and they were preparing for the chase of Señor Zorro.

The big sergeant's voice roared out above the din as men adjusted saddles and looked to bridles and inspected their water bottles and small supplies of provisions. For Sergeant Gonzales had ordered that his force travel light, and live off the country as much as possible. He had taken the commands of his captain seriously—he was going after Señor Zorro, and did not propose to return until he had him—or had died in an effort to effect a capture.

“I shall nail the fellow's pelt to the
presidio
door, my friend,” he told the fat landlord. “Then I shall collect the governor's reward and pay the score I owe you.”

“I pray the saints it may be true!” the landlord said.

“What, fool? That I pay you? Do you fear to lose a few small coins?”

“I meant that I pray you may be successful in capturing the man,” the landlord said, telling the falsehood glibly.

Captain Ramón was not up to see the start, having a small fever because of his wound, but the people of the
pueblo
crowded around Sergeant Gonzales and his men, asking a multitude of questions, and the sergeant found himself the center of interest.

“This Curse of Capistrano soon shall cease to exist!” he boasted loudly. “Pedro Gonzales is on his trail. Ha! When I stand face-to-face with the fellow—”

The front door of Don Diego Vega's house opened at that juncture, and Don Diego himself appeared, at which the townsmen wondered a bit, since it was so early in the morning. Sergeant Gonzales dropped a bundle he was handling, put his hands upon his hips, and looked at his friend with sudden interest.

“You have not been to bed,” he charged.

“But I have!” Don Diego declared.

“And are up again so soon? Here is some devilish mystery that needs an explanation!”

“You made noise enough to awaken the dead,” Don Diego said.

“It could not be helped,
caballero,
since we are acting under orders.”

“Were it not possible to make your preparations at the
presidio
instead of here in the plaza, or did you think not enough persons would see your importance there?”

“Now, by the—”

“Do not say it!” Don Diego commanded. “As a matter of fact, I am up early because I must make a confounded trip to my
hacienda,
a journey of some ten miles, to inspect the flocks and herds. Never become a wealthy man, Sergeant Gonzales, for wealth asks too much of a man.”

“Something tells me that never shall I suffer on that account,” said the sergeant, laughing. “You go with escort, my friend?”

“A couple of natives, that is all.”

“If you should meet up with this Señor Zorro, he probably would hold you for a pretty ransom.”

“Is he supposed to be between this place and my
hacienda?”
Don Diego asked.

“A native arrived a short time ago with word that he had been seen on the road running to Pala and San Luis Rey. We ride in that direction. And since your hacienda is the other way, no doubt you will not meet the rascal now.”

“I feel somewhat relieved to hear you say it. So you ride toward Pala, my sergeant?”

“We do. We shall try to pick up his trail as soon as possible, and once we have it we shall run this fox down. Meanwhile, we also shall attempt to find his den. We start at once.”

“I shall await news eagerly,” Don Diego said. “Good fortune go with you!”

Gonzales and his men mounted, and the sergeant shouted an order, and they galloped across the plaza, raising great clouds of dust, and took the highway toward Pala and San Luis Rey.

Don Diego looked after them until nothing could be seen but a tiny dust-cloud in the distance, then called for his own horse. He, too, mounted and rode away toward San Gabriel, and two native servants rode mules and followed a short distance behind.

But before he departed, Don Diego wrote a message and sent it by native courier to the Pulido
hacienda.
It was addressed to Don Carlos, and read:

Don Carlos read that epistle aloud to his wife and daughter, and then looked up to see how they took it. He scoffed at the danger himself, being an old warhorse, but did not wish to put his womenfolk in jeopardy.

“What think you?” he asked.

“It has been some time since we have visited the
pueblo,”
Doña Catalina said. “I have some friends left among the ladies there. I think it will be an excellent thing to do.”

“It certainly will not injure our fortunes to have it become known we are houseguests of Don Diego Vega,” Don Carlos said. “What does our daughter think?”

It was a concession to ask her, and Lolita realized that she was granted this unusual favor because of Don Diego's wooing. She hesitated some time before answering.

“I believe it will be all right,” she said. “I should like to visit the
pueblo,
for we see scarcely anybody here at the
hacienda.
But people may talk concerning Don Diego and myself.”

“Nonsense!” Don Carlos exploded. “Could there be anything more natural than that we should visit the Vegas, since our blood is almost as good as theirs and better than that of others?”

“But it is Don Diego's house, and not that of his father. Still—he will not be there for two or three days, he says, and we can return when he comes.”

“Then it is settled!” Don Carlos declared. “I shall see my superintendent and give him instructions.”

He hurried into the
patio
and rang the big bell for the superintendent, being well pleased. For when the Señorita Lolita saw the rich furnishings in the house of Don Diego Vega, she might the more readily accept Don Diego as a husband, he thought. When she saw the silks and satins, the elegant tapestries, the furniture inlaid with gold and studded with precious stones, when she realized that she could be mistress of this and much more besides—Don Carlos flattered himself that he knew the feminine heart.

Soon after the
siesta
hour, a
carreta
was brought before the door, drawn by mules and driven by a native.

Doña Catalina and Lolita got into it, and Don Carlos bestrode his best horse and rode at its side. And so they went down the trail to the highway, and down the highway toward Reina de Los Angeles.

They passed folk who marveled to see the Pulido family thus going abroad, for it was well known that they had met with ill fortune and scarcely went anywhere now. It was even whispered that the ladies did not keep up with the fashions, and that the servants were poorly fed, but remained at the
hacienda
because their master was so kind.

But Doña Catalina and her daughter held their heads proudly, as did Don Carlos, and they greeted the people they knew, and so continued along the highway.

Presently they made a turning and could see the pueblo in the distance—the plaza, and the church with its high cross on one side of it, and the inn and storehouses, and a few residences of the more pretentious sort, like Don Diego's, and the scattered huts of natives and poor folk.

The
carreta
stopped before Don Diego's door, and servants rushed out to make the guests welcome, spreading a carpet from the
carreta
to the doorway, that the ladies would not have to step in the dust. Don Carlos led the way into the house, after ordering that the horse and mules be cared for and the
carreta
put away, and there they rested for a time, and the servants brought out wine and food.

They went through the rich house then, and even the eyes of Doña Catalina, who had seen many rich houses, widened at what she saw here in Don Diego's home.

“To think that our daughter can be mistress of all this when she speaks the word!” she gasped.

Señorita Lolita said nothing, but she began thinking that perhaps it would not be so bad after all to become the wife of Don Diego. She was fighting a mental battle. On the one side was wealth and position, and the safety and good fortune of her parents—and a lifeless man for husband; and on the other side was the romance and ideal love she craved. Until the last hope was gone she could not give the latter up.

Don Carlos left the house and crossed the plaza to the inn, where he met several gentlemen of age, and renewed acquaintance with them, albeit he noticed that none was enthusiastic in his greeting. They feared, he supposed, to appear openly friendly to him, since he was in the bad graces of the governor.

“You are in the
pueblo
on business?” one asked.

“Not so,
señor,”
Don Carlos replied, and gladly, since here was a chance to set himself right in part. “This Señor Zorro is abroad, and the soldiers after him.”

“We are aware of that.”

“There may be a battle, or a series of raids, since it is whispered that now Señor Zorro has a band of cutthroats with him, and my
hacienda
is off by itself and would be at the mercy of the thief.”

“Ah! And so you bring your family to the
pueblo
until the matter is at an end?”

“I had not thought of doing so, but this morning Don Diego Vega sent out to me a request that I bring my family here and make use of his house for the time being. Don Diego has gone to his
hacienda,
but will return within a short time.”