SINGING CABALLEROS.
Barbados was like a maniac after the pirate craft swung away from
the trading schooner. He shrieked at his men to make sail, and they
needed but little urging. The fear of the supernatural was upon them,
superstition ruled their minds.
Gradually they crept away from the schooner, but Barbados continued to
watch her closely. He saw the new sails going aloft, and realized that
there would be a pursuit. So he turned out to sea and began running for
it.
He did not attempt to explain things to himself. He knew that his men
outnumbered those on the schooner, and he felt reasonably sure that, in
an engagement, the pirate crew would emerge victorious. Yet something
seemed to tell him that the proper thing was to avoid the engagement
if possible.
“We will lose that sorry craft in the wide waters,” he told Sanchez,
“and then we will turn and go to the rendezvous. There we’ll unload and
apportion the loot, and care for the wench until the man comes to claim
her. If we are followed, we can outfight the _caballeros_ on land. The
ghost of a man drowned in the sea is powerless on land, I have heard.”
“And, if they follow us ashore――” Sanchez questioned.
“Then we fight them, fool,” Barbados said. “You are still shaking like
a child! A pirate――you? Ha! By my naked blade, you are no better than a
woman in this business!”
“Men are men, but it is not in my mind to fight with ghosts,” Sanchez
told him. “We are bedeviled for some reason!”
“Ha!” Barbados gasped. “That reminds me!” He turned away and walked the
length of the deck, and finally came across the man he sought, and drew
him aside. “You have the thing yet?” he asked.
“The goblet? _Sí, señor!_ If the captain wishes it――”
“Do not even show it to me!” Barbados commanded. “I would have you
toss it into the sea, save that such an act might bring worse luck
yet. So long as you retain it, perhaps you draw all the ill fortune to
yourself. Spawn of hell, if ever you come face to face with that old
_fray_, in flesh or in spirit, have a look to yourself! For you have
done an evil thing!”
Barbados passed on, and descended to the cabin where Señorita Lolita
had been returned a prisoner.
She was as a woman stunned. She had fainted when Señor Zorro had
plunged into the sea, and Sanchez had carried her below. And when she
regained consciousness she remained on the bunk and groaned and prayed
by turns.
And now, when Barbados opened the door, she sat up quickly, a look of
agony in her face. One thing she had done――picked up from the floor
of the cabin the dagger that had belonged to the man Señor Zorro had
slain through the crack. She had cleaned it, and thrust it in the bosom
of her dress, where it was out of sight, but where she could reach it
instantly.
Barbados looked at her for a moment, and then spoke.
“In your right mind again, eh wench?” he said. “We are running away
from your friends, and there can be no hope of rescue. It would be
proper for you to make the best of it. The man for whom we have stolen
you perchance will be kind.”
“Foul beast and murderer!” the _señorita_ said.
“Ha!” Barbados gasped. “I have been called worse things than
that――things that you do not know exists, wench! Think you to hurt my
tough hide with words?”
“Have you no manhood?” she asked. “Is it an honor for a score of men to
take a girl captive? You struck down my father and burned my home! You
sent to his death the man I love――”
“There are other men,” said Barbados, “and other homes. And I did not
strike down your father――Sanchez did that. From what he tells me, the
blow was not a fatal one.”
“You are the chief of murderers and thieves, the one responsible,” she
said.
“Words do not hurt my tough hide, I have said. It were best for you to
be calm.”
“Calm?” The _señorita_ crept from the bunk, weak and staggering, her
face white, her lips trembling, a suspicion of tears in her eyes.
“Calm?” she repeated. “And how can you expect me to be calm? What is
there in the future for me, save dishonor or death? When the moment
comes, it will not take me long to choose!”
“Ha! When the moment comes, you may change your mind!”
“He whom you sent to death in the sea was worth ten score of you!” she
cried, stepping closer to him. “And each of his friends who follow in
that other ship are worth ten score of you! Do you think that you can
escape them forever?”
“I can have them wiped from the face of the earth!” Barbados replied.
“Escape them, possibly――but not me!” she cried. “I have seen you kill
the thing I love! And so――”
She clutched at her breast and drew forth the dagger. She gave a cry of
rage, and struck out wildly. Barbados, caught unaware, lurched quickly
to one side, but the blade struck his arm and tore away flesh and skin
and brought a gush of blood.
“By my naked blade――” he swore.
He whirled as she struck again and missed, grasped her, and tore the
dagger from her hand. He tossed her back upon the bunk, where she
braced herself against the wall, gasping, weeping, expecting that now
he would make an end of her.
But the pirate chief merely slipped the dagger into his belt, glanced
at his wounded arm, swore again, and then stepped back to the door.
“A wench with spirit, eh?” he said. “Ha! I would not be this Captain
Ramón and have the taming of you! Glad will I be when I turn you over
to him! I have battles enough on my hands without fighting women! I’ll
send a man soon with food. Such a female warrior must eat to conserve
her strength!”
He laughed at her, mocked her, went out and closed the door, and
she heard the heavy bar shot into place and the sounds of his feet
retreating. She collapsed on the bunk and gave way to a tempest of
tears.
“Diego!” she breathed. “Diego, beloved!”
Barbados ascended to the deck, bathed the wound in his arm, and said
nothing when Sanchez questioned him. Throughout the day he gave his
attention to the sailing of the ship, but he could not shake off the
schooner which followed.
Then came the night, and once more Barbados cursed the bright moon.
For, though his craft showed no lights, yet could she be seen from the
schooner. Back and forth Barbados sailed, but always failing to shake
off the other ship. And when there came the dark hour before dawn he
changed his course abruptly, and ran before the breeze.
But when the dawn came there was the schooner, a greater distance
away, but still in sight. And so Barbados put off to sea again, for
he wished, if it were possible, to go to the land rendezvous without
drawing his foes there. Else he slew all of them, news of the pirates’
headquarters would leak out, and they would have to move.
He ran before the wind, he tacked, he beat in toward the shore, out to
sea, to the north and the south and the west. Now he gained, and now
the schooner gained upon him. He cursed and drove his men, but they
could accomplish nothing.
And finally he started running down the coast, intent upon reaching
the rendezvous. If the men of the schooner dared follow him to land,
they would be annihilated, he promised. Once or twice he felt like
turning and forming an attack, but thoughts of the ghost of Señor Zorro
deterred him.
“A sea ghost cannot fight on land!” Barbados told himself. “On land I
have them at my mercy!”
The day started to die, and the pirate craft rushed down the coast with
the schooner in close pursuit. It was almost nightfall when Barbados
and his men guided the ship into the little bay. The schooner was some
miles behind.
The anchor dropped, the ship swung broadside to the shore. From the
land came sounds of a tumult, and down into the surf rushed men and
women and children. The pirates’ stronghold could be seen back some
distance from the water.
There was a wide expanse of beach, a deep open space fringed with
stubby trees and brush. Hills landlocked the scene. A score of huts
dotted the edge of the flat. Fires were burning on the shore, stock ran
wild among the habitations.
Overside went the boats, and the pirates commenced handing down the
loot. Shrieks and calls came from the women and children on the shore,
from the men who had been left behind as guards.
Barbados went ashore in the first boat, and began issuing his commands.
The camp was to be put in a state for defense, he explained. Guards
were to be established on the three land sides, and other men would
watch the sea. The ship was warped closer to the shore, so that she
could be defended easily.
Just as the night descended, the trading schooner sailed across the
mouth of the bay, and presently she returned, farther out to sea.
Barbados boarded the ship again, and took the _señorita_ from her
cabin. Sanchez lashed her wrists behind her.
“You go ashore, wench!” Barbados said. “And there you are to be held
until such a time as this Captain Ramón comes to claim you. Why he
should want you is more than I can explain to myself. You are a pretty
wench, it is true, but too much of a spitfire!”
He watched her closely when she was in the boat. And when they landed
the pirates’ women and the ragged children rushed forward to jeer at
her as she passed beside the flaming fire. Barbados took her to a large
adobe building, the best structure in the camp. He opened the door and
thrust her inside.
A woman cooking over an open fire whirled to look at him. She looked at
the _señorita_, too, and her eyes flamed.
“What is this?” she demanded, her fists against her hips. “Is it a
younger and prettier woman?”
“It is, indeed, Inez,” Barbados laughed. “She is a share of the loot!”
“Your share, eh? And you dare to fetch her here?”
“Why not?” Barbados asked.
“To my face?” the woman screeched. She was of middle age, a creature
hideous in a way. “So! It has come at last, has it? I am to be tossed
aside for a comely wench you have stolen from some rich _hacienda_!”
“Jealousy is a foolish thing,” Barbados observed. “Think you, Inez, to
hold my love for life?”
“None other shall have it!” the woman screeched. She flashed forward,
her hand raised to strike, her nails ready to tear into the _señorita’s_
fair face. But Barbados seized her and tossed her roughly aside.
“Peace!” he cried. “I want none of the wench! She is to be kept a
prisoner until claimed. A share of the loot she is, but not my share.
She was stolen for a great man!”
“This is the truth?” the woman asked.
“Do I generally speak falsehood?” Barbados thundered. “Enough! Put her
in the storeroom, and feed her well. Treat her gently. She must be in
prime condition when she is claimed. We were followed by a schooner
upon which are _caballeros_ striving to rescue her. She must not be
rescued!”
The woman grinned horribly. She opened the door of a room adjoining and
motioned for the _señorita_ to enter. She stepped aside, and Lolita
Pulido, looking straight ahead, her eyes fixed and glistening, went
into the storeroom without speaking, her head held proudly.
Barbados hurried outside again. The black night had descended, but soon
the moon was shining. Guards were sent into the fringe of woods, and a
watchman to the summit of a hill in the rear. Men were posted on the
ship, men walked around the huts, alert, ready to repel an attack.
But there came no attack during the night. The trading schooner had run
down the coast and back, and then anchored two miles north of the bay.
“I know the place,” the captain told Don Audre Ruiz. “Once some years
ago I ran in there during a storm. Their camp must be in the open, and
there will be no advantage in the attack. There can be no surprise, of
course.”
“What is your good advice?” Don Audre asked.
“That you land here with your _caballeros_, approach the camp and wait
for the dawn. I’ll land as many of my crew as can be spared from the
ship, and let them circle the camp to attack from the other side. There
must be men enough held here to get the schooner to sea for a run if
the pirate craft comes out at us.”
“That is agreed!” Don Audre said.
“But it will be a sorry business, Don Audre! You will be outnumbered
three to one. And you may be sure that there are men in the camp who
were not on the pirate ship. They may have a few pistols they have
captured from ships, but it will be hand to hand work with blades.
Three to one, at least, Don Audre!”
Don Audre Ruiz drew himself up. “Three beasts to one _caballero_,” he
said. “It is an equal affair. There can be no hesitating, _señor_.
Señorita Lolita Pulido is held a captive by those beasts. And I am not
forgetting what happened to Don Diego, my friend! There is but one
thing to do――attack! At least, we can die!”
There was a short conference, and then the boats began carrying the
men to the shore. The _caballeros_ approached to within a mile of the
pirate camp and stopped to rest, sending scouts on ahead. The men of
the crew circled to the other side.
Some of the _caballeros_ slept, sprawled on the sand. But Don Audre
Ruiz sat beside a tiny fire he had kindled, his knees drawn up and
nursing them with his hands.
“At least we can die, Diego!” he said, softly. “And we can strive
mightily before we do that!”
The black hour came, and then the first finger of the dawn. Don Audre
arose and stretched himself, and walked for a time up and down the
beach. The _caballeros_ shook off their sleep, bathed their faces at
the edge of the sea, exercised their muscles, whipped out their blades
and fanned the air.
Sergeant Gonzales, who had snored throughout the night, snorted as
he bathed his face and hands, and then strode down to Don Audre and
confronted him.
“_Señor_, you are in command of this enterprise,” the sergeant said.
“There are orders?”
“Only that every man is to do his best,” Don Audre replied. “The
_señorita_ is to be rescued if it is possible, and returned to the
schooner.”
“And the pirates are to be hanged?”
“Any that do not fall by our swords and are captured.”
“Ha! It is a nuisance to hang a man!” Gonzales declared: “We would have
to go to the ship for a rope. The blade is better! Fray Felipe!”
“_Señor?_” the fray questioned. He approached them.
“You are yet my friend,” Gonzales said. “If you get into the thick of
it, stand you behind me, that I may protect you. But a battle is not a
place for a _fray_. Stay you behind, and say your prayers!”
“There is the matter of the goblet,” Fray Felipe replied, softly.
“By the saints, I take it upon myself to get the goblet for you,
_fray_!”
“Do so, and I call you son!”
Sergeant Gonzales bared his head for an instant. He looked at Fray
Felipe as though embarrassed, and then returned his hat to his head and
gulped. “I have been an evil man in my time,” he said, “but I trust
that the saints will forget it for this day at least. I would have
added strength to this good right arm of mine! Don Audre, I am ready!”
Don Audre Ruiz led the way along the shore. They crept nearer the camp
of the pirates, spread out fan fashion, and approached boldly. They
reached the crest of a slope, and saw the camp spread before them in
the first rays of the morning sun.
The pirates seemed to be more numerous than even Don Audre Ruiz had
expected. It looked to be a hopeless task, this attack. But there was
something to urge them on.
They stopped to look at one another. In silks and satins and plumes
they were, with their jeweled swords at their sides. And before them
the stronghold, with the ragged, dirty pirates there ready to give
battle.
“If Señor Zorro were only here to lead us!” Don Audre Ruiz said, with a
sigh. “But he is not――and let us remember why he is not――and strike the
harder because of our remembrance! If you are ready――”
He whipped out his gleaming blade and waved it above his head, and the
_caballeros_ drew blades in turn, and answered him with their cheers.
And so they advanced to the attack――slowly, carefully, in a perfect
line. And Don Audre Ruiz, because he wanted to give himself and the
others added courage, and because he felt that it was fitting, sang
lustily a song of old:
“Singing _caballeros_, going forth to die!
Laughing in the face of grinning Death!
Facing task that’s hopeless, ready yet to try!
Singing with the last of earthly breath!”
The _caballeros_ took up the refrain and sang it through to the end,
their voices ringing across the sea and the land. And, the song at an
end, they were grim and silent again, intent upon the bloody business
before them. The pirates were preparing, they could see. In a very few
minutes the clash would come.
And suddenly, from the distance, from the slope between the two
attacking forces, came a solitary voice, also raised in song:
“_Atención!_ A _caballero’s_ near――”
They glanced up, astounded. Running down the slope toward them came
a figure they knew well. Don Audre Ruiz gave a great cry of joy and
thankfulness. The _caballeros_ cheered, and wept unashamed. For well
they knew the singer and the song.
“Zorro!” they cried. “Zorro!”
And so they rushed to the attack!
[Illustration: The Further Adventures of Zorro, Part IV]