Near the hour of midnight the caballeros began slipping from the pueblo one at a time, each upon the back of his best horse, and each armed with sword and pistol. Each man had a mask that could be put over his features instantly, for that had been decided upon at Don Alejandro’s hacienda, among other things.
The pueblo was in darkness, save that there were lights in the tavern, where some of his excellency’s escort made merry with the local troopers. For Sergeant Pedro Gonzales had returned with his men just before nightfall, glad to be back from a fruitless chase, and hoping that the next scent would be warmer.
Those in the tavern had gone down the hill from the presidio, some leaving their horses there without saddles or bridles on, and they had no thought of an encounter with Señor Zorro this night. The fat landlord was kept busy, for the soldiers from the north had coins in their purses and were willing to spend them. Sergeant Gonzales, holding the attention of the company as usual, was detailing at length what he would do to this Señor Zorro if the saints were kind enough to let them meet and grant him his blade in his hand.
There were lights in the big lounging-room of the presidio, too, for few of the soldiers had retired. And there were lights in the house where his excellency was a guest, but the remainder of the pueblo was in darkness, and the people slept.
In the cárcel there was no light at all except for one candle burning in the office, where a sleepy man was on guard. The jailer was in his bed. Prisoners moaned on the hard benches in the prison-room. Don Carlos Pulido stood before a window, looking up at the stars; and his wife and daughter huddled on a bench beside him, unable to sleep in such surroundings.
The caballeros found Señor Zorro waiting for them as he had said he would be, but he remained aloof, speaking scarcely a word, until all were present.
“Are all here?” he asked then.
“All except Don Diego Vega,” one replied. “He is ill with a fever, señor.”
And all the caballeros chuckled, for they had an idea the fever was caused by cowardice.
“I take it that you know something of what is in my mind,” Señor Zorro said. “We know what has happened to Don Carlos Pulido and the ladies of his family. We know they are innocent of any treason; and were they not, they should not have been taken to cárcel and incarcerated with common felons and drunkards.
“Think of those gentle ladies in such surroundings! Think of it—because Don Carlos has the ill will of the governor! Is it the sense of the league that something be done in this matter? If it is not, then will I do something by myself!”
“Rescue them!” a caballero said, and the others growled their approval. Here was a chance for risk and adventure and an opportunity to do a good deed.
“We must enter the pueblo quietly,” Señor Zorro said. “There is no moon, and we will not be observed if we use caution. We shall approach the cárcel from the south. Each man will have his task to do.
“Some will surround the building to give notice if any approach it. Others must be ready to beat off the soldiers, if they respond to an alarm. Others will effect an entrance to the cárcel with me, and rescue the prisoners.”
“It is an excellent plan,” one said.
“That is but a small part of it. Don Carlos is a proud man, and if given time for reflection may refuse to be rescued. We cannot allow that. Certain ones will seize him and take him from the place. Others will attend to the Doña Catalina. I will undertake to care for the señorita. Now—we have them free! And then what?”
He heard murmurs, but no distinct reply, and so he continued to outline the plan.
“All will ride to the highway just below this place,” he said.
“At that point we shall scatter. Those who have the Doña Catalina in charge will hasten with her to the hacienda of Don Alejandro Vega, where she can be hidden if necessary, and where the governor’s soldiers will hesitate before entering and seizing her.
“Those who have Don Carlos in charge will take the road to Pala, and at a certain point some ten miles from this pueblo they will be met by two natives of understanding, who will give the sign of the fox. The natives will take Don Carlos in charge and care for him.
“When these things are done, each caballero will ride to his home quietly and alone, telling what story pleases him, and using great caution. I shall have conducted the señorita to a safe place by that time. She shall be given into the keeping of old Fray Felipe, a man we can trust, and he will hide her if he must. Then we will watch to see what the governor does.”
“What can he do?” a caballero asked. “Have them searched for, of course.”
“We must await developments,” Señor Zorro said. “Are all now ready?”
They assured him that they were, and so he named the men for each task, and then they left the little valley and rode slowly and cautiously around the little town, and approached it from the south.
They heard the soldiers shouting and singing in the tavern, saw the lights in the presidio, and crept toward the cárcel quietly, riding two by two.
In a short time it had been surrounded by quiet, determined men; and then Señor Zorro and four others dismounted and went to the door of the building.
CHAPTER 31
THE RESCUE
Señor Zorro knocked upon the door with the hilt of his sword. They heard a man gasp inside, presently heard his steps on the stone flooring, and after a little time, light showed through the cracks and the aperture was opened, and the sleepy face of the guard appeared.
“What is wanted?” he asked.
Señor Zorro thrust the muzzle of his pistol through the aperture and into the man’s face, and in such fashion that the little door could not be closed.
“Open, if you value your life! Open—and make not the slightest sound!” Señor Zorro commanded.
“What—what is this?”
“Señor Zorro is talking to you!”
“By the saints—”
“Open, fool, or you die instantly!”
“I—I’ll open the door. Do not shoot, good Señor Zorro! I am only a poor guard and not a fighting man! I pray you do not shoot!”
“Open quickly!”
“As soon as I can fit key to lock, good Señor Zorro!”
They heard him rattling the keys; presently one was turned in the lock, and the heavy door was thrown open.
Señor Zorro and his four companions rushed inside, and slammed and fastened the door again. The guard found the muzzle of a pistol pressed against the side of his head, and would have knelt before these five masked and terrible men, only one of them caught him by the hair and held him up.
“Where sleeps the keeper of this infernal hole?” Señor Zorro demanded.
“In yonder room, señor!”
“And where have you put Don Carlos Pulido and his ladies?”
“In the common prison-room, señor!”
Señor Zorro motioned to the others, strode across the room, and threw open the door to the jailer’s chamber. The man already was sitting up in bed, having heard the sounds in the other room, and he blinked in fright when he beheld the highwayman by the light of the candle.
“Do not make a move, señor!” Zorro warned. “One screech, and you are a dead man! Señor Zorro confronts you!”
“May the saints preserve me—”
“Where are the keys to the prison rooms?”
“On—on that table, señor.”
Señor Zorro picked them up, and then whirled upon the jailer again and rushed toward him.
“Lie down!” he commanded. “On your face, scoundrel!”
Señor Zorro tore strips from a blanket, and bound the jailer’s hands and feet, and made a gag which he affixed.
“To escape death,” he said then, “it is necessary for you to remain exactly as you are now, without making a sound, for some time after we have left the cárcel. I shall leave it to your own judgment to decide the length of time.”
Then he hurried back into the main office, beckone
d the others, and led the way down the evil-smelling hall.
“Which door?” he asked of the guard.
“The second one, señor.”
They hurried to it, and Señor Zorro unlocked it and threw it open. He forced the guard to hold a candle high above his head.
A gasp of pity came from beneath the highwayman’s mask. He saw the aged don standing by the window, saw the two women crouched on the bench, saw the vile companions they had in this miserable place.
“Now may Heaven forgive the governor!” he cried.
Señorita Lolita looked up in alarm, and then gave a glad cry. Don Carlos whirled at the highwayman’s words.
“Señor Zorro!” he gasped.
“The same, Don Carlos! I have come with some friends to rescue you!”
“I cannot allow it, señor. I shall not run away from what is in store for me. And it would avail me little to have you do the rescuing. I am accused now of harboring you, I understand. How will it look, then, if you effect my escape?”
“There is no time for argument,” Señor Zorro said. “I am not alone in this, but have twenty-six men with me. And a man of your blood, and gentle ladies such as those of your family, shall not spend an entire night in this miserable hole if we can prevent it. Caballeros!”
The last word was one of command. Two of the caballeros threw themselves upon Don Carlos, subdued him quickly, and half carried him into the hall and along it toward the office. Two others grasped the Doña Catalina by the arms, as gently as they could, and so carried her along.
Señor Zorro bowed before the señorita, and extended a hand, which she clasped gladly.
“You must trust me, señorita,” he said.
“To love is to trust, señor!”
“All things have been arranged. Ask no questions, but do as I bid. Come!”
He threw an arm around her, and so led her from the prison-room, leaving the door open behind him. If some of the miserable wretches there could win through and out of the building, Señor Zorro had no wish to prevent them. More than half of them, he judged, were there because of prejudice or injustice.
Don Carlos was causing an unearthly clamor, shouting that he refused to be rescued, and that he would stay and face the governor at the trial, and show the blood that was in him. Doña Catalina was whimpering a bit because of fright, but made no resistance.
They reached the office, and Señor Zorro ordered the guard to a corner of it, with instructions to remain there quietly for some time after they had gone. And then one of the caballeros threw open the outside door.
There was a tumult outside at that moment. Two soldiers had approached with a fellow caught stealing at the tavern, and the caballeros had stopped them. One glance at the masked faces had been enough to tell the troopers that here was something wrong.
A soldier fired a pistol, and a caballero answered the fire, neither hitting the mark. But the shooting was enough to attract the attention of those in the tavern, and also of the guards at the presidio.
Troopers at the presidio were awakened immediately, and took the places of the guards while the latter mounted and spurred down the hill to ascertain the cause of the sudden tumult at that hour of the night. Sergeant Pedro Gonzales and others hurried from the tavern. Señor Zorro and his companions found themselves facing a resistance when they least expected it.
The jailer had gathered courage enough to work himself free of gag and bonds, and he shrieked through a window of his chamber that prisoners were being released by Señor Zorro. His shriek was understood by Sergeant Gonzales, who screeched for his men to follow him and earn a part of his excellency’s reward.
But the caballeros had their three rescued prisoners on horseback, and they spurred through the gathering throng and so dashed across the plaza and toward the highway.
Shots flew about them, but no man was hit. Don Carlos Pulido was still screaming that he refused to be rescued. Doña Catalina had fainted, for which the caballero who had her in charge was grateful, since he could give more attention to his horse and weapons.
Señor Zorro rode wildly, with the Señorita Lolita in the saddle before him. He spurred his magnificent horse ahead of all the others, and so led the way to the highroad. And when he had reached it, he pulled up his mount and watched the others come galloping to the spot, to ascertain whether there had been casualties.
“Carry out your orders, caballeros!” he commanded, when he saw that all had won through safely.
And so the band was broken into three detachments. One rushed along the Pala road with Don Carlos. Another took the highway that would lead them to the hacienda of Don Alejandro. Señor Zorro, riding without any of his comrades at his side, galloped toward Fray Felipe’s place, the señorita’s arms clasped tightly about his neck, and the señorita’s voice in his ear.
“I knew that you would come for me, señor,” she said. “I knew you were a true man, and would not see me and my parents remain in that miserable place.”
Señor Zorro did not answer her with words, for it was not a time for speech with his enemies so close at his heels, but his arm pressed the señorita closer to him.
He had reached the crest of the first hill; and now he stopped the horse to listen for sounds of pursuit, and to watch the flickering lights far behind.
For there was a multitude of lights in the plaza now, and in all the houses, for the pueblo had been aroused. The presidio building was ablaze with light, and he could hear a trumpet being blown, and knew that every available trooper would be sent on the chase.
The sound of galloping horses came to his ears. The troopers knew in what direction the rescuers had traveled; and the pursuit would be swift and relentless, with his excellency on the scene to offer fabulous rewards and urge on his men with promises of good posts and promotion.
But one thing pleased Señor Zorro as his horse galloped down the dusty highway and the señorita clung to him and the keen wind cut into his face—he knew that the pursuit would have to be divided into three parties.
He pressed the señorita to him again, put spurs to his horse, and rode furiously through the night.
CHAPTER 32
CLOSE QUARTERS
Over the hills peeped the moon.
Señor Zorro would have had the sky heavy with clouds this night and the moon obscured, could he have had things his own way, for now he was riding along the upper trail, and his pursuers were close behind and could see him against the brightening sky.
The horses ridden by the troopers were fresh, too, and the most of those belonging to the men of his excellency’s escort were magnificent beasts, as swift as any in the country, and able to endure many miles of travel at a terrific pace.
But now the highwayman thought only of getting all the speed possible out of his own mount, and of making as great as he could the distance between himself and those who followed; for at the end of his journey he would need quite a little time, if he was to accomplish what he had set out to do.
He bent low over the señorita, and felt his horse with the reins, making himself almost a part of the animal he rode, as any good horseman can. He reached the crest of another hill, and glanced back before he began the descent into the valley. He could see the foremost of his pursuers.
Had Señor Zorro been alone, no doubt the situation would have caused him no uneasiness, for many times he had been in a position more difficult, and had escaped. But the señorita was on the saddle before him now, and he wanted to get her to a place of safety, not only because she was the señorita and the woman he loved, but also because he was not the sort of man to let a prisoner he had rescued be recaptured. Such an event, he felt, would be a reflection on his skill and daring.
Mile after mile he rode, the señorita clinging to him, and neither speaking a word. Señor Zorro knew that he had gained some on those who followed, but not enough to suit his purpose.
Now he urged his horse to greater effort and they flew along the dusty highway, past haciendas where t
he hounds barked in sudden alarm, past the huts of natives where the clamor of beating hooves on the hard road caused bronze men and women to tumble from their bunks and rush to their doors.
Once he charged through a flock of sheep that were being driven to Reina de Los Angeles and the market there, and scattered them to either side of the road, leaving cursing herders behind him. The herders gathered the flock again, just in time to have the pursuing soldiers scatter it once more.
On and on he rode, until he could see, far ahead, the mission buildings at San Gabriel glistening in the moonlight. He came to a fork in the road, and took the trail that ran to the right, toward the hacienda of Fray Felipe.
Señor Zorro was a reader of men, and he was trusting to his judgment to-night. He had known that the Señorita Lolita would have to be left either where there were women, else where there was a robed Franciscan to stand guard over her, for Señor Zorro was determined to protect his lady’s good name. And so he was pinning his faith to old Fray Felipe.
Now the horse was galloping over softer ground, and was not making such good speed. Señor Zorro had little hope that the troopers would turn into the San Gabriel Road when they arrived at the fork, as they might have done had it not been moonlight and they had been unable to catch sight now and then of the man they pursued. He was within a mile of Fray Felipe’s hacienda now, and once more he gave his horse the spurs in an effort to obtain greater speed.
“I shall have scant time, señorita,” he said, bending over her and speaking into her ear. “Everything may depend upon whether I have been able to judge a man correctly. I ask only that you trust me.”
“You know I do that, señor!”
“And you must trust the man to whom I am carrying you, señorita, and listen well to his advice upon all matters concerned with this adventure. The man is a fray.”
The Mark Of Zorro (Penguin Classics) Page 21