CHAPTER 23
MORE PUNISHMENT
Señor Zorro rode quickly to the crest of the hill beneath which was the pueblo, and there he stopped his horse and looked down at the village.
It was almost dark, but he could see quite well enough for his purpose. Candles had been lighted in the tavern, and from the building came the sounds of raucous song and loud jest. Candles were burning at the presidio and from some of the houses came the odor of cooking food.
Señor Zorro rode on down the hill. When he reached the edge of the plaza he put spurs to his horse and dashed up to the tavern door, before which half a dozen men were congregated, the most of them under the influence of wine.
“Landlord!” he cried.
None of the men about the door gave him particular attention at first, thinking he was but some caballero on a journey wishing refreshment. The landlord hurried out, rubbing his fat hands together, and stepped close to the horse. And then he saw that the rider was masked, and that the muzzle of a pistol was threatening him.
“Is the magistrado within?” Señor Zorro asked.
“Si, señor!”
“Stand where you are and pass the word for him. Say there is a caballero here who wishes speech with him regarding a certain matter.”
The terrified landlord shrieked for the magistrado, and the word was passed inside. Presently the judge came staggering out, crying in a loud voice to know who had summoned him from his pleasant entertainment.
He staggered up to the horse, and put one hand against it, and looked up to find two glittering eyes regarding him through a mask. He opened his mouth to shriek, but Señor Zorro warned him in time.
“Not a sound, or you die!” he said. “I have come to punish you. To-day you passed judgment on a godly man who was innocent. Moreover, you knew of his innocence, and his trial was but a farce. By your order he received a certain number of lashes. You shall have the same payment.”
“You dare—”
“Silence!” the highwayman commanded. “You about the door there—come to my side!” he called.
They crowded forward, the most of them peons who thought that here was a caballero who wished something done and had gold to pay for it. In the dusk they did not see the mask and pistol until they stood beside the horse, and it was too late to retreat then.
“We are going to punish this unjust magistrado,” Señor Zorro told them. “The five of you will seize him now, and conduct him to the post in the middle of the plaza, and there you will tie him. The first man to falter receives a slug of lead from my pistol, and my blade will deal with the others. And I wish speed, also.”
The frightened magistrado began to screech now. “Laugh loudly, that his cries may not be heard,” the highwayman ordered; and the men laughed as loudly as they could, albeit there was a peculiar quality to their laughter.
They seized the magistrado by the arms and conducted him to the post, and bound him there with thongs.
“You will line up,” Señor Zorro told them. “You will take this whip, and each of you will lash this man five times. I shall be watching, and if I see the whip fall lightly once I shall deal out punishment. Begin!”
He tossed the whip to the first man, and the punishment began. Señor Zorro had no fault to find with the manner in which it was given, for there was great fear in the hearts of the peons, and they whipped with strength, and willingly.
“You, also, landlord!” Señor Zorro said.
“He will put me in cárcel for it afterward,” the landlord wailed.
“Do you prefer cárcel or a coffin, señor?” the highwayman asked.
It became evident that the landlord preferred the cárcel. He picked up the whip, and he surpassed the peons in the strength of his blows.
The magistrado was hanging heavily from the thongs now. Unconsciousness had come to him with about the fifteenth blow, more through fear than through pain and punishment.
“Unfasten the man,” the highwayman ordered.
Two men sprang forward to do his bidding.
“Carry him to his house,” Señor Zorro went on.
“And tell the people of the pueblo that this is the manner in which Señor Zorro punishes those who oppress the poor and helpless, who give unjust verdicts and who steal in the name of the law. Go your ways!”
The magistrado was carried away, groaning, consciousness returning to him now. Señor Zorro turned once more to the landlord.
“We shall return to the tavern,” he said. “You will go inside and fetch me a mug of wine, and stand beside my horse while I drink it. It would be only a waste of breath for me to say what will happen to you if you attempt treachery on the way.”
But there was fear of the magistrado in the landlord’s heart as great as his fear of Señor Zorro. He went back to the tavern, and he hurried inside, as if to get the wine. But he sounded the alarm.
“Señor Zorro is without,” he hissed at those nearest the table. “He has just caused the magistrado to be whipped cruelly. He has sent me to get him a mug of wine.”
Then he went on to the wine cask and began drawing the drink as slowly as possible.
There was sudden activity inside the tavern.
Some half dozen caballeros were there, men who followed in the footsteps of the governor. Now they drew their blades and began creeping toward the door, and one of them who possessed a pistol and had it in his sash, drew it out, saw that it was prepared for work, and followed in their wake.
Señor Zorro, sitting his horse some twenty feet from the door of the tavern, suddenly beheld a throng rush out at him, saw the light flash from half a dozen blades, heard the report of a pistol, and heard a ball whistle past his head.
The landlord was standing in the doorway, praying that the highwayman would be captured, for then he would be given some credit, and perhaps the magistrado would not punish him for having used the lash.
Señor Zorro caused his horse to rear high in the air, and then raked the beast with the spurs. The animal sprang forward, into the midst of the caballeros, scattering them.
That was what Señor Zorro wanted. His blade already was out of its scabbard, and it passed through a man’s sword-arm, swung over and drew blood on another.
He fenced like a maniac, maneuvering his horse to keep his antagonists separated, so that only one could get at him at a time. Now the air was filled with shrieks and cries, and men came tumbling from the houses to ascertain the cause of the commotion. Señor Zorro knew that some of them would have pistols, and while he feared no blade, he realized that a man could stand some distance away and cut him down with a pistol-ball.
So he caused his horse to plunge forward again, and before the fat landlord realized it, Señor Zorro was beside him, and had reached down and grasped him by the arm. The horse darted away, the fat landlord dragging, shrieking for rescue and begging for mercy in the same breath. Señor Zorro rode with him to the whipping-post.
“Hand me that whip!” he commanded.
The shrieking landlord obeyed, and called upon the saints to protect him. And then Señor Zorro turned him loose, and curled the whip around his fat middle, and as the landlord tried to run he cut at him again and again. He left him once to charge down upon those who had blades and so scatter them, and then he was back with the landlord again, applying the whip.
“You tried treachery!” he cried. “Dog of a thief! You would send men about my ears, eh? I’ll strip your tough hide—”
“Mercy!” the landlord shrieked, and fell to the ground. Señor Zorro cut at him again, bringing forth a yell more than blood. He wheeled his horse and darted at the nearest of his foes. Another pistol-ball whistled past his head, another man sprang at him with blade ready. Señor Zorro ran the man neatly through the shoulder and put spurs to his horse again. He galloped as far as the whipping-post, and there he stopped his horse and faced them for an instant.
“There are not enough of you to make a fight interesting, señores,” he cried.
&nbs
p; He swept off his sombrero and bowed to them in nice mockery, and then he wheeled his horse again and dashed away.
CHAPTER 24
AT THE HACIENDA OF DON ALEJANDRO
Behind him he left a tumult in the town. The shrieks of the fat landlord had aroused the pueblo. Men came running, servants hurrying at their sides and carrying torches. Women peered from the windows of the houses. Natives stood still wherever they happened to be, and shivered, for it had been their dear experience that whenever there was a tumult natives paid the price.
Many young caballeros of hot blood were there, and for some time there had been no excitement in the pueblo of Reina de Los Angeles. These young men crowded into the tavern and listened to the wails of the landlord, and some hurried to the house of the magistrado and saw his wounds, and heard him declaim on the indignity that had been offered the law, and therefore his excellency the governor.
Captain Ramón came down, from the presidio, and when he heard the cause of the tumult he swore great oaths, and sent his only well man to ride along the Pala road, overtake Sergeant Gonzales and his troopers, and bid them return and take the trail, since at the time being they were following a false scent.
But the young caballeros saw in this circumstance a chance for excitement that was to their liking, and they asked permission of the comandante to form a posse and take after the highwayman, a permission they received immediately.
Some thirty of them mounted horses, looked to weapons, and set out, with the intention of dividing into three bands of ten each when they came to forks in the trail.
The townsmen cheered them as they started, and they galloped rapidly up the hill and toward the San Gabriel road, making a deal of noise, glad that now there was a moon to let them see the foe when they approached him.
In time they separated, ten going toward San Gabriel proper, ten taking the trail that led to the hacienda of Fray Felipe, and the last ten following a road that curved down the valley to the neighborhood of a series of landed estates owned by wealthy dons of the day.
Along this road Don Diego Vega had ridden some time before, the deaf and dumb Bernardo behind him on the mule. Don Diego rode with leisure, and it was long after nightfall when he turned from the main road and followed a narrower one toward his father’s house.
Don Alejandro Vega, the head of the family, sat alone at his table, the remains of the evening meal before him, when he heard a horseman before the door. A servant ran to open it, and Don Diego entered, Bernardo following close behind him.
“Ah, Diego, my son!” the old don cried, extending his arms.
Don Diego was clasped for an instant to his father’s breast, and then he sat down beside the table and grasped a mug of wine. Having refreshed himself, he faced Don Alejandro once more.
“It has been a fatiguing journey!” he remarked.
“And the cause for it, my son?”
“I felt that I should come to the hacienda,” Don Diego said. “It is no time to be in the pueblo. Wherever a man turns, he finds naught but violence and bloodshed. This confounded Señor Zorro—”
“Ha! What of him?”
“Please do not ‘Ha!’ me, sir and father. I have been ‘Ha’d!’ at from morning until night these several days. These be turbulent times.
“This Señor Zorro has made a visit to the Pulido hacienda and frightened everyone there. I went to my hacienda on business, and from there I went over to see old Fray Felipe, thinking I might get a chance to meditate in his presence. And who makes an appearance but a big sergeant and his troopers seeking this Señor Zorro!”
“They caught him?”
“I believe not, sir and father. I returned to the pueblo, and what think you happened there this day? They brought in Fray Felipe, accused of having swindled a dealer, and after a mockery of a trial they lashed him to a post and gave him the whip fifteen times across his back.”
“The scoundrels!” Don Alejandro cried.
“I could stand it no longer, and so I decided to pay you a visit. Wherever I turn, there is turmoil. It is enough to make a man insane. You may ask Bernardo if it is not.”
Don Alejandro glanced at the deaf and dumb native and grinned. Bernardo grinned back as a matter of course, not knowing it was no manner in which to act in the presence of a don.
“You have something else to tell me?” Don Alejandro asked his son, looking at him searchingly.
“By the saints! Now it comes! I had hoped to avoid it, father and sir.”
“Let me hear about it.”
“I paid a visit to the Pulido hacienda and spoke with Don Carlos and his wife, also the Señorita Lolita.”
“You were pleased with the señorita?”
“She is as lovely as any girl of my acquaintance,” Don Diego said. “I spoke to Don Carlos of the matter of marriage, and he appeared to be delighted.”
“Ah! He would be!” said Don Alejandro.
“But the marriage cannot take place, I fear.”
“How is this? There is some shadow concerning the señorita?”
“Not to my knowledge. She appears to be a sweet and innocent maiden, father and sir. I had them come to Reina de Los Angeles and spend a couple of days at my house. I had it arranged so that she could see the furnishings, and learn of my wealth.”
“That was a wise arrangement, my son.”
“But she will have none of me.”
“How is this? Refuses to wed with a Vega? Refuses to become allied to the most powerful family in the country, with the best blood in the land?”
“She intimated, father and sir, that I am not the sort of man for her. She is prone to foolishness, I believe. She would have me play a guitar under her window, perhaps, and make eyes, and hold hands when her dueña is not looking, and all that silliness.”
“By the saints! Are you a Vega?” Don Alejandro cried. “Would not any worthy man want a chance like that? Would not any caballero delight to serenade his love on a moonlight night? The little things you term silly are the very essence of love. I doubt not the señorita was displeased with you.”
“But I did not see that such things were necessary,” Don Diego said.
“Did you go to the señorita in a cold-blooded manner and suggest that you wed and have it done with? Had you the idea, young sir, that you were purchasing a horse or a bull? By the saints! And so there is no chance for you to wed the girl? She has the best blood by far, next to our own.”
“Don Carlos bade me have hope,” Diego replied. “He took her back to the hacienda, and suggested that perhaps when she had been there a time and had reflected, she might change her mind.”
“She is yours, if you play the game!” Don Alejandro said. “You are a Vega, and therefore the best catch in the country. Be but half a lover and the señorita is yours. What sort of blood is in your veins? I have half a mind to slit one of them and see.”
“Cannot we allow this marriage business to drop for the time being?” Don Diego asked.
“You are twenty-five. I was quite old when you were born. Soon I shall go the way of my fathers. You are the only son, the heir, and you must have a wife and offspring. Is the Vega family to die out because your blood is water? Win you a wife within the quarter year, young sir, and a wife I can accept into the family, or I leave my wealth to the Franciscans when I pass away!”
“My father!”
“I mean it! Get life into you! I would you had half the courage and spirit this Señor Zorro, this highwayman, has! He has principles, and he fights for them. He aids the helpless and avenges the oppressed.
“I salute him! I would rather have you, my son, in his place, running the risk of death or imprisonment, than to have you a lifeless dreamer of dreams that amount to naught!”
“My father! I have been a dutiful son!”
“I would you had been a little wild—it would have been more natural,” Don Alejandro sighed. “I could overlook a few escapades more easily than I can lifelessness. Arouse yourself, young sir! Remember
that you are a Vega.
“When I was your age, I was not a laughingstock. I was ready to fight at a wink, to make love to every pair of flashing eyes, to stand up to any caballero in sports rough or refined. Ha!”
“I pray you, do not ‘Ha!’ me, sir and father. My nerves are on an edge.”
“You must be more of a man!”
“I shall attempt it immediately,” Don Diego said, straightening himself somewhat in his chair. “I had hoped to avoid it, but it appears that I cannot. I shall woo the Señorita Lolita as other men woo maidens. You meant what you said about your fortune?”
“I did!” said Don Alejandro.
“Then I must bestir myself. It would never do, of course, to let that fortune go out of the family. I shall think these matters over in peace and quiet to-night. Perhaps I can meditate here, far from the pueblo. By the saints!”
The last exclamation was caused by a sudden tumult outside the house. Don Alejandro and his son heard a number of horsemen stop, heard their calls to one another, heard bridles jingling and blades rattling.
“There is no peace in all the world!” Don Diego said, with deepened gloom.
“It sounds like half a score of men,” Don Alejandro said.
It was—exactly. A servant opened the door, and into the great room there strode ten caballeros, with blades at their sides and pistols in their belts.
“Ha, Don Alejandro! We crave hospitality!” the foremost cried.
“You have it without asking, caballeros. What manner of journey is this you take?”
“We pursue Señor Zorro, the highwayman.”
“By the saints!” Don Diego cried. “One cannot escape it even here! Violence and bloodshed!”
“He invaded the plaza at Reina de Los Angeles,” the spokesman went on. “He had the magistrado whipped because he sentenced Fray Felipe to receive the lash, and he whipped the fat landlord, and he fought half a score of men while he was about it. Then he rode away, and we made up a band to pursue him. He has not been in this neighborhood?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Don Alejandro said. “My son arrived off the highway but a short time ago.”
The Mark Of Zorro (Penguin Classics) Page 17