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or death from his blade.”

“It is to be regretted that you do not understand.”

“Understand?” queried the governor, in a questioning tone, glancing up and down the line of mounted men.

“We have taken counsel with ourselves, excellency. We know our strength and power, and we have decided upon certain things. There have been things done that we cannot countenance.

“The frailes of the missions have been despoiled by officials. Natives have been treated worse than dogs. Even men of noble blood have been robbed because they have not been friendly to the ruling powers.”

“Caballero—”

“Peace, excellency, until I have done. This thing came to a crisis when a hidalgo and his wife and daughter were thrown into a carcel by your orders. Such a thing cannot be countenanced, excellency, and so we have banded ourselves together, and here we take a hand. Be it known that we ourselves rode with this Senor Zorro when he invaded the carcel and rescued the prisoners, that we carried Don Carlos and the Dona Catalina to places of safety, and that we have pledged our words and honors and blades that they shall not be persecuted more.”

“I would say—”

“Silence, until I have done! We stand together, and the strength of our united families is behind us. Call upon your soldiers to attack us, if you dare! Every man of noble blood up and down the length of El Camino Real would flock to our defense, would unseat you from your office, would see you humbled. We await your answer, excellency.”

“What—what would you?” his excellency gasped.

“First, proper consideration for Don Carlos Pulido and his family. No carcel for them. If you have the courage to try them for treason, be sure that we will be on hand at the trial, and deal with any man who gives perjured testimony, and with any magistrado who does not conduct himself properly. We are determined, excellency.”

“Perhaps I was hasty in the matter, but I was led to believe certain things,” the governor said. “I grant you your wish. One side now, caballeros, while my men get at this rogue in the tavern.”

“We are not done,” their leader said. “We have things to say regarding this Senor Zorro. What has he done—actually— excellency? Is he guilty of any treason? He has robbed no man except those who robbed the defenseless first. He has whipped a few unjust persons. He has taken sides with the persecuted, for which we honor him. To do such a thing, he took his life in his own hands. He successfully evaded your soldiers. He resented insults, as any man has the right to do.”

“What would you?”

“A complete pardon, here and now, for this man known as Senor Zorro.”

“Never!” the governor cried. “He has affronted me personally. He shall die the death!” He turned around and saw Don Alejandro Vega standing near him. “Don Alejandro, you are the most influential man in this south country,” he said. “You are the one man against whom even the governor dare not stand. You are a man of justice. Tell these young caballeros that what they wish cannot be granted. Bid them retire to their homes, and this show of treason will be forgotten.”

“I stand behind them!” Don Alejandro thundered.

“You—you stand behind them?”

“I do, your excellency. I echo every word they have spoken in your presence. Persecution must cease. Grant their requests, see that your officials do right hereafter, return to San Francisco de Asis, and I take my oath that there shall be no treason in this southland. I shall see to it myself. But oppose them, excellency, and I shall take sides against you, see you driven from office and ruined, and your foul parasites with you.”

“This terrible, willful southland!” the governor cried.

“Your answer?” Don Alejandro demanded.

“I can do nothing but agree,” the governor said. “But there is one thing—”

“Well!’

“I spare the man’s life if he surrenders, but he must stand trial for the murder of Captain Ramon.”

“Murder?” queried the leader of the caballeros, “It was a duel between gentlemen, excellency. Senor Zorro resented an insult on the part of the comandante to the senorita.”

“Ha! But Ramon was a caballero—”

“And so is this Senor Zorro. He told us as much, and we believe him, for there was no falsehood in his voice. So it was a duel, excellency, and between gentlemen, according to the code, and Captain Ramon was unfortunate that he was not a better man with a blade. That is understood? Your answer.”

“I agree,” the governor said weakly. “I pardon him, and I go home to San Francisco de Asis, and persecution ceases in this locality. But I hold Don Alejandro to his promise—that there be no treason against me here if I do these things.”

“I have given my word,” Don Alejandro said.

The caballeros shrieked their happiness and dismounted. They drove the soldiers away from the door, Sergeant Gonzales growling into his mustache because here was a reward gone glimmering again.

“Within there, Senor Zorro!” one cried. “Have you heard?”

“I have heard, caballero!”

“Open the door and come out amongst us—a free man!”

There was a moment’s hesitation, and then the battered door was unbarred and opened, and Senor Zorro stepped out with the senorita on his arm. He stopped just in front of the door, removed his sombrero and bowed low before them.

“A good day to you, caballeros!” he cried. “Sergeant, I regret that you have missed the reward, but I shall see that the amount is placed to the credit of you and your men with the landlord of the tavern.”

“By the saints, he is a caballero!” Gonzales cried.

“Unmask, man!” cried the governor. “I would see the features of the person who has fooled my troopers, has gained caballeros to his banner, and has forced me to make a compromise.”

“I fear that you will be disappointed when you see my poor features,” Senor Zorro replied. “Do you expect me to look like Satan? Or can it be possible, on the other hand, that you believe I have an angelic countenance?”

He chuckled, glanced down at the Senorita Lolita, and then put up a hand and tore off his mask.

A chorus of gasps answered the motion, an explosive oath or two from the soldiers, cries of delight from the caballeros, and a screech of mingled pride and joy from one old hidalgo.

“Don Diego, my son—my son!”

And the man before them seemed to droop suddenly in the shoulders, and sighed, and spoke in a languid voice.

“These be turbulent times. Can a man never meditate on music and the poets?”

And Don Diego Vega, the Curse of Capistrano, was clasped for a moment in his father’s arms.

Chapter 39 “Meal Mush and Goat’s Milk!”

THEY CROWDED FORWARD—troopers, natives, caballeros, surrounding Don Diego Vega and the Senorita who clutched at his arm and looked up at him from proud and glistening eyes.

“Explain! Explain!” they cried.

“It began ten years ago, when I was but a lad of fifteen,” he said. “I heard tales of persecution. I saw my friends, the frailes, annoyed and robbed. I saw soldiers beat an old native who was my friend. And then I determined to play this game.

“It would be a difficult game to play, I knew. So I pretended to have small interest in life, so that men never would connect my name with that of the highwayman I expected to become. In secret, I practiced horsemanship and learned how to handle a blade—”

“By the saints, he did,” Sergeant Gonzales growled.

“One half of me was the languid Don Diego you all knew, and the other half was the Curse of Capistrano I hoped one day to be. And then the time came, and my work began.

“It is a peculiar thing to explain, senores. The moment I donned cloak and mask, the Don Diego part of me fell away. My body straightened, new blood seemed to course through my veins, my voice grew strong and firm, fire came to me! And the moment I removed cloak and mask I was the languid Don Diego again. Is it not a peculiar thing?

“I had made friends with this great Sergeant Gonzales, and for a purpose.”

“Ha! I guess the purpose, caballeros!” Gonzales cried. “You tired whenever this Senor Zorro was mentioned, and did not wish to hear of violence and bloodshed, but always you asked me in what direction I was going with my troopers—and you went in the other direction and did your confounded work.”

“You are an excellent guesser,” said Don Diego, laughing, as did the others about him. “I even crossed blades with you, so you would not guess I was Senor Zorro. You remember the rainy night at the tavern? I listened to your boasts, went out and donned mask and cloak, came in and fought you, escaped, took off mask and cloak, and returned to jest with you.”

“Ha!”

“I visited the Pulido hacienda as Don Diego and a short time later returned as Senor Zorro and held speech with the senorita here. You almost had me, sergeant, that night at Fray Felipe’s—the first night, I mean.”

“Ha! You told me there that you had not seen Senor Zorro.”

“Nor had I. The fray does not keep a mirror, thinking that it makes for vanity. The other things were not difficult, of course. You can easily understand how, as Senor Zorro, I happened to be at my own house in town when the comandante insulted the senorita.

“And the senorita must forgive me the deception. I courted her as Don Diego, and she would have none of me. Then I tried it as Senor Zorro, and the saints were kind, and she gave me her love.

“Perhaps there was some method in that, also. For she turned from the wealth of Don Diego Vega to the man she loved, though she deemed him, then, an outcast and outlaw.

“She has showed me her true heart, and I am rejoiced at it. Your excellency, this senorita is to become my wife, and I take it you will think twice before you will annoy her family further.”

His excellency threw out his hands in a gesture of resignation.

“It was difficult to fool you all, but it has been done,” Don Diego continued. “Only years of practice allowed me to accomplish it. And now Senor Zorro shall ride no more, for there will be no need, and moreover a married man should take some care of his life.”

“And what man do I wed?” the Senorita Lolita asked, blushing because she spoke the words where all could hear.

“What man do you love?”

“I had fancied that I loved Senor Zorro, but it comes to me now that I love the both of them,” she said. “Is it not shameless? But I would rather have you Senor Zorro than the old Don Diego I knew.”

“We shall endeavor to establish a golden mean,” he replied, laughing again. “I shall drop the old languid ways and change gradually into the man you would have me. People will say that marriage made a man of me.”

He stooped and kissed her there before them all.

“Meal mush and goat’s milk!” swore Sergeant Gonzales.

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