The Mark of Zorro (16 page)

The eyes of those who heard opened a bit at that, but Don Carlos pretended not to notice, and went on sipping his wine.

“Don Diego was out to visit me yesterday morning,” he continued. “We renewed old times. And my
hacienda
had a visit from this Señor Zorro last night, as doubtless you have heard, and Don Diego, learning of it, galloped out again, fearing we had met with disaster.”

“Twice in one day!” gasped one of those who heard.

“I have said it,
señor.”

“You—that is—your daughter is very beautiful, is she not, Don Carlos Pulido? And seventeen, is she not—about?”

“Eighteen,
señor.
She is called beautiful, I believe,” Don Carlos admitted.

Those around him glanced at one another. They had the solution now. Don Diego Vega was seeking to wed Señorita Lolita Pulido. That meant that Pulido's fortunes would soon be at the flood again, and that he might feel called upon to remember his friends and look askance at those who had not stood by him.

So now they crowded forward, alert to do him honor, and asked concerning crops and the increase of his herds and flocks, and whether the bees were doing as well as usual, and did he think the olives were excellent this year.

Don Carlos appeared to take it all as a matter of course. He accepted the wine they bought and purchased it himself, and the fat landlord darted about doing their bidding and trying to compute the day's profits in his head, which was a hopeless task for him.

When Don Carlos left the inn at dusk, several of them followed him to the door, and two of the more influential walked with him across the plaza to the door of Don Diego's house. One of these begged that Don Carlos and his wife visit his house that evening for music and talk, and Don Carlos graciously accepted the invitation.

Doña Catalina had been watching from a window, and her face was beaming when she met her husband at the door.

“Everything goes well,” he said. “They have met me with open arms. And I have accepted an invitation to visit tonight.”

“But Lolita?” Doña Catalina protested.

“She must remain here, of course. Will it not be all right? There are half a hundred servants about. And I have accepted the invitation, my dear!”

Such a chance to win favor again could not be disregarded, of course, and so Lolita was made acquainted with the arrangement. She was to remain in the great living room, reading a volume of verse she had found there, and if she grew sleepy she was to retire to a certain chamber. The servants would guard her, and the
despensero
would look after her wishes personally.

Don Carlos and his wife went to make their evening visit, being lighted across the plaza by half a dozen natives who held torches in their hands, for the night was without a moon and rain was threatening again.

Señorita Lolita curled up on a couch, the volume of verse in her lap, and began to read. Each verse treated of love, romance, passion. She marveled that Don Diego would read such, being so lifeless himself, but the volume showed that it had been much handled. She sprang from the couch to look at other books on a bench not far away. And her amazement increased.

Volume after volume of poets who sang of love; volumes that had to do with horsemanship; books that had been written at the dictation of masters of fence; tales of great generals and warriors—all these were there.

Surely these volumes were not for a man of Don Diego's blood, she told herself. And then she thought that perhaps he reveled in them, though not in the manner of life they preached. Don Diego was something of a puzzle, she told herself for the hundredth time, and she went back and began reading the poetry again.

Then Captain Ramón hammered at the front door.

The
despensero
hurried to open it.

“I regret that Don Diego is not at home,
señor,”
he said. “He has gone to his
hacienda.”

“I know as much. Don Carlos and wife and daughter are here, are they not?”

“Don Carlos and his wife are out on a visit this evening,
señor.
”

“The
señorita—”

“Is here, of course.”

“In that case, I shall pay my respects to the
señorita,”
Captain Ramón said.

“Señor!
Pardon me, but the little lady is alone.”

“Am I not a proper man?” the captain demanded.

“It—it is scarcely right for her to receive the visit of a gentleman when her
dueña
is not present.”

“Who are you, to speak to me of the proprieties?” Captain Ramón demanded. “Out of my way, scum! Cross me, and you shall be punished. I know things concerning you!”

The face of the
despensero
went white at that, for the captain spoke the truth, and at a word could cause him considerable trouble and mayhap a term in
cárcel.
Yet he knew what was right.

“But,
señor
—” he protested.

Captain Ramón thrust him aside with his left arm, and stalked into the big living-room. Lolita sprang up in alarm when she saw him standing before her.

“Ah,
señorita,
I trust that I did not startle you,” he said. “I regret that your parents are absent, yet must have a few words with you. This servant would deny me entrance, but I imagine you have naught to fear from a man with one wounded arm.”

“It—it is scarcely proper, is it,
señor?”
the girl asked, a bit frightened.

“I feel sure no harm can come of it,” he said.

He went across the room and sat down on one end of the couch, and admired her beauty frankly. The despensero hovered near.

“Go to your kitchen, fellow!” Captain Ramón commanded.

“No, allow him to remain,” Lolita begged. “My father commanded it, and he courts trouble if he leaves.”

“And if he remains. Go, fellow!”

The servant went.

Captain Ramón turned toward the girl again, and smiled upon her. He flattered himself that he knew women—they loved to see a man show mastery over other men.

“More beautiful than ever,
señorita,”
he said in a purring voice. “I really am glad to find you thus alone, for there is something I would say to you.”

“What can that be,
señor?”

“Last night at your father's
hacienda
I asked his permission to pay my addresses to you. Your beauty has inflamed my heart,
señorita,
and I would have you for my wife. Your father consented, except that he said Don Diego Vega also had received permission. So it appears that it lies between Don Diego and myself.”

“Should you speak of it,
señor?”
she asked.

“Certainly Don Diego Vega is not the man for you,” he went on. “Has he courage, spirit? Is he not a laughingstock because of his weakness?”

“You speak ill of him in his own house?” the
señorita
asked, her eyes flashing.

“I speak the truth,
señorita.
I would have your favor. Can you not look upon me with kindness? Can you not give me hope that I may win your heart and hand?”

“Captain Ramón, all this is unworthy,” she said. “It is not the proper manner, and you know it. I beg you to leave me now.”

“I await your answer,
señorita.”

Her outraged pride rose up at that. Why could she not be wooed as other
señoritas,
in the proper fashion? Why was this man so bold in his words? Why did he disregard the conventions?

“You must leave me,” she said firmly. “This is all wrong, and you are aware of it. Would you make my name a by-word, Captain Ramón? Suppose somebody was to come and find us like this—alone?”

“Nobody will come,
señorita.
Can you not give me an answer?”

“No!” she cried, starting to get to her feet. “It is not right that you should ask it. My father, I assure you, shall hear of this visit!”

“Your father!” he sneered. “A man who has the ill will of the governor! A man who is being plucked because he possessed no political sense! I fear not your father! He should be proud of the fact that Captain Ramón looks at his daughter.”

“Do not run away!” he said, clutching her hand. “I have done you the honor to ask you to be my wife—”

“Done
me
the honor!” she cried angrily, and almost in tears. “It is the man who is done the honor when a woman accepts him.”

“I like you when you rage,” he observed. “Sit down again—beside me, here. And now give me your answer!”

“You will wed me, of course. I shall intercede with the governor for your father and get a part of his estate restored. I shall take you to San Francisco de Asis, to the governor's house, where you will be admired by persons of rank!”

“Señor!
Let me go!”

“My answer,
señorita!
You have held me off enough!” She wrenched away from him, confronted him with blazing eyes, her tiny hands clenched at her sides.

“Wed with you!” she cried. “Rather would I remain a maid all my life, rather would I wed with a native, rather would I die than wed with you! I wed a
caballero,
a gentleman, or no man! And I cannot say that you are such!”

“Pretty words from the daughter of a man who is about ruined.”

“Ruin would not change the blood of the Pulidos,
señor.
I doubt whether you understand that, evidently having ill blood yourself. Don Diego shall hear of this. He is my father's friend—”

“And you would wed the rich Don Diego, eh, and straighten out your father's affairs? You would not wed an honorable soldier, but would sell yourself—”

“Señor!”
she shrieked.

This was beyond endurance. She was alone, there was nobody near to resent the insult. So her blood called upon her to avenge it herself.

Like a flash of lightning her hand went forward, and came against Captain Ramón's cheek with a crack. Then she sprang backward, but he grasped her by an arm, and drew her toward him.

“I shall take a kiss to pay for that!” he said. “Such a tiny bit of womanhood can be handled with one arm, thank the saints! ”

She fought him, striking and scratching at his breast, for she could not reach his face. But he only laughed at her, and held her tighter until she was almost spent and breathless, and finally he threw back her head and looked down into her eyes.

“A kiss in payment,
señorita!”
he said. “It will be a pleasure to tame such a wild one.”

She tried to fight again, but could not. She called upon the saints to aid her. And Captain Ramón laughed more, and bent his head, and his lips came close to hers.

But he never claimed the kiss. She started to wrench away from him again, and he was forced to strengthen his arm and pull her forward. And from a corner of the room there came a voice that was at once deep and stern.

“One moment,
señor!”
it said.

Captain Ramón released the girl and whirled on one heel. He blinked his eyes to pierce the gloom of the corner; he heard Señorita Lolita give a glad cry.

Then Captain Ramón, disregarding the presence of the lady, cursed, once and loudly, for Señor Zorro stood before him.

He did not pretend to know how the highwayman had entered the house; he did not stop to think of it. He realized that he was without a blade at his side, and that he could not use it had he one, because of his wounded shoulder. And Señor Zorro was walking toward him from the corner.

“Outlaw I may be, but I respect women!” the Curse of Capistrano said. “And you, an officer of the army, do not, it appears. What are you doing here, Captain Ramón?”

“And what do you here?”

“I heard a lady's scream, which is warrant enough for a caballero to enter any place,
señor.
It appears to me that you have broken all the conventions.”

“Perhaps the lady has broken them also.”

“Señor!”
roared the highwayman. “Another thought like that and I cut you down where you stand, though you are a wounded man! How shall I punish you?”

“Despensero! Natives!” the captain shouted suddenly. “Here is Señor Zorro! A reward if you take him!”

The masked man laughed. “'Twill do you small good to call for help,” he said. “Spend your breath in saying your prayers, rather!”

“You do well to threaten a wounded man.”

“You deserve death,
señor,
but I suppose I must allow you to escape that. But you will go down upon your knees and apologize to this
señorita!
And then you will go from this house, slink from it like the cur you are, and keep your mouth closed regarding what has transpired here. If you do not, I promise to soil my blade with your life's blood!”

“Ha!”

“On your knees,
señor,
and instantly!” Señor Zorro commanded. “I have no time to waste in waiting.”

“I am an officer—” “On your knees!” commanded Señor Zorro again, in a terrible voice. He sprang forward and grasped Captain Ramón by his well shoulder, and threw him to the floor.

“Quickly, poltroon! Tell the
señorita
that you humbly beg her pardon—which she will not grant, of course, since you are beneath speaking to—and that you will not annoy her again! Say it, or by the saints, you have made your last speech!”

Captain Ramón said it. And then Señor Zorro grasped him by the neck and lifted him, and propelled him to the door, and hurled him into the darkness. And had his boots not been soft, Captain Ramón would have been injured more deeply, both in feelings and anatomy.