CHAPTER XV.A SHOW OF GRATITUDE.
The schooner sailed on, and came against the pirate ship with a crash. But here was a battle unlike the usual one when honest men met pirates. As a usual thing, the pirates could be expected to board and slay without mercy, to loot, and then either to destroy the ill-fated vessel or take it away a prize. And the honest men could be expected only to offer what defense they could. But here was a case where the honest men were more than willing to carry the fight to the pirates. For Don Audre Ruiz and hiscaballerofriends had seen Señor Zorro walk the plank, and also they fought to rescue a lady.
But both forces found themselves disconcerted at the outset. Don Audre Ruiz, glancing toward the bow of the schooner, was sure that he saw Señor Zorro standing there against a background of sky and water, his figure dripping. He rubbed his eyes and looked again—and Señor Zorro was gone!
“’Tis the spirit of Zorro come to aid us!” Don Audre cried. “I saw him for a moment, waving his hand at me and reaching for his blade! The spirit of Zorro fights with us!”
Thecaballeroswere not certain what he meant, but they cheered his words and rushed toward the rail, their gleaming blades ready to be dyed a crimson. Fray Felipe knelt beside the mast in prayer. But Sergeant Gonzales, standing with his feet wide apart and his sword in his hand, stared foolishly toward the bow and gasped his astonishment and fear.
“I saw him!” the sergeant shrieked. “I saw Don Diego, my friend! By the saints—”
The ships crashed together. But the pirates did not rush as was their custom. For fear had clutched at their superstitious natures, even as it had clutched at Barbados and Sanchez, his evil lieutenant. Sanchez had shrieked the news, but Barbados did not heed his intelligence. Barbados himself had seen Señor Zorro standing against the sky. And how may a man do that when he has been sent to the bottom of the sea with a heavy weight fastened to him?
“Fiends of hell!” Barbados screeched. “This Zorro must be a demon!”
“We cannot fight against ghosts!” Sanchez cried. “We are lost before we commence.”
Barbados seemed to come to himself and shake off his terror in part. He instantly was eager to win free from the trading schooner. He did not fear thecaballeros, who were greatly outnumbered now, but he did fear the supernatural. He forgot the chance for murder and loot, and wanted only to get away.
Barbados shrieked his commands, and the half-stupefied pirates ran to execute them. The pirate craft swung away from the schooner, so that men could not spring from one ship to the other. There were less than half a dozen clashes of blades; less than half a dozen minor wounds.
Slowly the pirate craft fell away. The helmsman of the schooner worked frantically to bring his ship back into the wind. Thecaballerosand the members of the schooner’s crew waited, eager for the two ships to come together again, that they might engage the pirates and fight to victory.
Barbados howled more commands. From the pirate ship came a rain of fire balls, and flaming torches were hurled. It was a favorite pirate trick, and the men knew what their commander wanted. Clouds of pungent smoke rolled across the deck of the schooner.
Thecaballerosgasped and fought to get to the clean, pure air. Their nostrils and throats were raw, their eyes stinging.
Through the dense smoke they could see little. The pirate ship gradually was lengthening the distance between her and the trading schooner. The pirates’ work had been done.
For the sails of the schooner were wrapped in flames, and bits of them fell, burning, to the deck below. Flames licked at the tarred rigging and spread out on the spars.
“She’s making away!” Don Audre Ruiz cried. “She’s running from us!”
There seemed to be no question about it now. The pirates were hurrying away without giving battle. And the ragingcaballeroswanted battle, and they remembered that theseñoritawas yet on the pirate craft.
The captain was howling to his crew, and the men were fighting the raging flames. Thecaballeros, forgetting their silks and satins and plumes, ran to help. Here was a foe more formidable than pirates of the open sea.
The schooner drifted with the water and the wind in the wake of the pirate ship. The smoke drifted away, and finally the fire was extinguished. Quick inventory was taken of the damage.
It did not amount to so very much, since the rigging had not been burned to a greatextent. But the sails were gone, for the greater part, and pursuit for the moment at an end.
Again the captain shouted his commands, and as his men hurried to carry them out he turned to Don Audre.
“I have other sails,señor,” he explained. “They will be in place as rapidly as my men can get them there. The craft of ill-omen cannot get far before we are upon her heels again. She is running out to sea once more. She would lose sight of us before she turns toward the accursed spot where they have their land rendezvous. Their behavior astounds me; they acted as if they had seen a ghost!”
“And so did I!” Don Audre declared. “I’ll swear that, for an instant, I saw Señor Zorro standing at the butt of the bowsprit—and then he was gone!”
“By the saints, I saw him myself!” Sergeant Gonzales shouted. “He was here to aid us! Man or spirit, I know not—but he was here! And now he has disappeared!”
Fray Felipe came toward them. “It cannot be that he is alive and aboard,” he told them, “else he would discover himself to us at once. Perhaps it was but a strong hope that caused you to imagine the sight.”
“Fray, I swore friendship with you, but I’ll break the compact if you say such a thing again!” Sergeant Gonzales declared. “I saw him, I say! Man or spirit, I know not—but I saw him!”
Thecaballeroswere busy helping the crew with the new sails. One by one they were sheeted home, and presently the schooner gathered headway once more. On it sailed, in the wake of the pirate craft, vengeance only delayed.
Far behind, Señor Zorro watched her grow smaller and smaller, and the flare of hope that had been in his heart dwindled to a mere spark again.
His unexpected plunge into the sea before he had recovered from the first ordeal had unnerved him for the moment. He had come to the surface to find that the schooner had drifted away. Before he could handle himself to advantage she was at some distance, and the pirate craft was drawing away from the ship of smoke and flame.
There was a strong tide running, and Señor Zorro was too weak to fight against it. Near him there drifted a spar that had been torn away when the ships had crashed together. He struggled through the swirling water and managed to reach it, and drew himself upon it to sprawl there almost breathless, gasping, exhausted. He was too weak to signal his friends, and he doubted whether they would see him did he do so.
Shouting would be a waste of breath, he knew; and so, stretched across the spar, he fought to keep his consciousness, closing his eyes and forcing himself to breathe normally. When some strength had returned to him he sat upright and looked across the sea. The pirate craft was in the distance. The schooner, the fires extinguished, some of her sails in place, was drawing away from him rapidly. Señor Zorro gave thanks for that—his friends were not deserting theseñorita.
He began to take stock of his predicament. Far away he could see a dirty streak on the horizon, and he knew it for the land he would have to reach.
He was in sore condition for the hazardous journey. His wrists were raw and bleeding; his leg pained him. He scarcely could see because of the glare of the sun on the water. Thirst tortured him; hunger added to the torture.
Señor Zorro sat up on the spar and smiled a sorry smile. He made sure that his blade still remained at his side.
“Sword of Zorro, we are in a sorry state!” he declared. “This is an emergency such as never have we faced before. But we must win through!”
A moment he hesitated, and then, as though to give courage to himself he raised his voice again, this time in his song:
“Atención!Acaballero’snear—”
“Atención!Acaballero’snear—”
“Atención!Acaballero’snear—”
But his voice broke, and he told himself that he was a fool to attempt to sing out there in the wild waste of waters, clinging to a spar. Far better to concern himself about getting to the land.
Señor Zorro rested a short time longer, watching the disappearing ships. And turning, he looked at the distant land.
“Sword of Zorro, we travel toward the east!” he announced. “If ever I touch dry land again, there I remain for some time to come. This seafaring is a sorry business!”
But he said that merely to amuse himself, of course. He would fare forth, to sea again at any time to rescue the Señorita Lolita, and well he knew it. He only hoped that Don Audre Ruiz and the others would be of service to her.
He adjusted himself as well as he could, and started to swim, clinging to the spar. That rendered his progress slow, but he did not dare cast it aside, for he knew that he never would reach the distant land. For a time he swam, and then he floated on the spar and rested, and then urged himself to swim again. On and on through the hours, while the sun traveled across the heavens, he forced the spar through the water.
It seemed to him that he was nearing the land, but he could not be sure. There might be a treacherous current in these waters, against which he was expending his strength in vain. But he did not stop.
His mind was a maelstrom, his muscles acted mechanically. Now and then pains shot up his legs and along his back, and often he swam for minutes at a time with his eyes closed. He watched the sun begin its descent toward the sea, and yet he swam.
At times songs rang through his brain, at other times he caught himself mouthing meaningless phrases. And then he thought of the Señorita Lolita, and swam on.
Twilight came. The sun disappeared. There was a period of darkness, and then the surface of the sea was touched with the glory of the moon. Señor Zorro could not see the land now, but he knew in which direction it lay, and swam on, a few minutes at a time.
And thus passed the night. But before the dark space just before the dawn, Señor Zorro was laughing raucously, out of his wits. Some god of good fortune kept him swimming in the proper direction. And when the sun appeared again, it brought a new agony to his eyes, new tortures of thirst. He swallowed salt water and spat it out, and found that it had made him ill. For a time he was stretched across the spar, weak, sick, on the verge of delirium.
He fancied that a myriad of pirate vessels were about him, bearing down upon him. He saw the pretty, laughing face of the Señorita Lolita in the mist that hung above the sea. He laughed back at her, and once again his cracked voice rose in a song:
“Atención!Acaballero’snear—”
“Atención!Acaballero’snear—”
“Atención!Acaballero’snear—”
He felt himself grow suddenly weak. It seemed to him that the land was near at last, but he could not be sure. He drew himself upon the spar, sprawling across it.
“Must—rest—” Señor Zorro gasped.
And with the gasp he passed into unconsciousness.
Back to earth he struggled as through a land of hideous dreams. He tossed and groaned and tried to open his eyes, but felt that he could not. There seemed to be a roaring in his ears that was not of the sea. And finally it came to him that it was a human voice, attempting to beat through his unconsciousness and bring him to an understanding of things.
“Señor! Señor—” the voice said.
Señor Zorro struggled yet again, groaned once more, and opened his eyes. But not into the burning glare of the open sea! He was in cool shade, he found, and from a distance came the hissing of the surf. He blinked his eyes rapidly, felt something at his lips, and drank deeply of pure, cold water.
“Señor!” There was the voice again. “For the love of the saints,señor, come back to life!”
Full consciousness returned to him in a breath. He opened his eyes wider and struggled to sit up. Then he saw that he was in some sort of a poor hut, and that a native was beside him, with an arm beneath his shoulders.
“Ha!” Señor Zorro gasped.
“Thank the saints,señor!” the native cried.
Señor Zorro, with the help of the native, sat up. He had been stretched on a sort of couch, he found. He glanced around the interior of the poor hut, through the open door at the sparkling sea.
“What—” he began.
“I found you yesterday,señor, far out to sea, riding on a piece of wreckage,” the native said. “You had lost your wits. You fought me when I tried to take you into my boat, and tried to draw blade against me. Then you went unconscious, and I had my way with you.”
“And—and then?” Señor Zorro gasped.
“Why,señor, I fetched you here!” the native explained. “And throughout the night you raved, and so far to-day. The sun has but two more hours to live.”
“More water!” Zorro commanded.
The native gave it him. He drank deeply, stood up, walked to the door and looked out. There was no other habitation as far as he could see.
“Where is this?” Zorro asked.
“On the coast,señor, far to the south of Reina de Los Angeles. I am but a poor neophyte who eats what fish he can catch. Once I worked on ahacienda,señor, but the governor took all for taxes.”
“I know,” Señor Zorro told him.
“And so I got me a boat and came down the coast and built this poor house. And here I live alone and am happy. There are times when I carry fish to the stronghold of the pirates, and trade them for some other things—”
“Ha!” Zorro cried. “The stronghold of the pirates? Where is that?”
“Less than ten miles down the coast,señor, in a little bay. There are huts, and women and children, and every now and then the pirate ship puts in after a raid. They are safe there,señor, though they are within eight miles of thepresidioof San Diego de Alcála.”
“By the saints!” Zorro swore. “And how does it come that you did not rob me of my sword and the few things of value upon me, and toss me into the sea?”
The native looked at him frankly. “Pardon,señor,” he said, “but I never would do such a thing as that. For I knew you instantly,señor. You are Señor Zorro, who rode up and down El Camino Real and avenged the wrongs of the natives andfrailes. You once punished a soldier who beat my father. If it is necessary,señor, I am ready to die that you may live.”
“And now—”
“Now,” the native interrupted, “it would be best for theseñorto sit and rest, while I prepare some hot food. Then whatever he commands shall be done.”
“There was a pirate ship in the offing, and another,” Zorro insinuated.
“Sí, señor!The pirate ship ran from the other, going out to sea. But a short time ago I saw her pass, going toward the bay where the pirates have their headquarters. And the other ship passed but a short time ago, pursuing.”
“By the saints!” Zorro cried. “I would go to this pirates’ den of which you speak, and as speedily as possible.”
“Theseñormust eat first, so that he will have strength,” the native said, firmly. “Then I will guide theseñorto the spot. It is ten miles, and theseñoris a weak man.”
“I will eat the food gladly,” Zorro replied. “Do you prepare it as speedily as possible. There shall be an ample reward.”
“It is reward enough that I have been able to save theseñor’slife,” the native answered. “The friends of Señor Zorro do not forget what he did for them!”