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.