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.