CHAPTER XXVI.HELPLESSNESS.
On the occasion of this meeting it was Señor Zorro who was properly astonished instead of his foe. Captain Ramón had been the last person he had seen at the pirates’ camp; he had riddenat great speed, and yet here was thecommandanteahead of him at thepresidioin San Diego de Alcála.
But it did not take Señor Zorro long to guess that the captain had taken advantage of some short cut across the country and so had arrived at thepresidiofirst. And, since he was here, Señor Zorro found himself in something of a predicament.
For weapons he had only the short dagger and his courage. The element of surprise upon which he generally depended so much was acting against him instead of for him in this present encounter; but he did not despair.
He took two quick steps forward, and the dagger suddenly was in his right hand. He glanced quickly at the lieutenant, who had picked up his sword from the long table and was drawing it from the scabbard, and then whirled toward Captain Ramón, who already had his sword ready for use.
“So!” Señor Zorro cried. “You got here ahead of me, did you? Renegade and traitor!”
“’Tis you who are the renegade and traitor!” Captain Ramón declared. “Friend of pirates!”
“Ha! So that is the tale you have told?” Señor Zorro gasped. “Lieutenant, I am Don Diego Vega, of Reina de Los Angeles. Perhaps you have heard the name?”
“The lieutenant also has heard of Señor Zorro, and knows that he and Don Diego Vega are one and the same man,” Captain Ramón said before the other officer could reply. Captain Ramón felt some small degree of courage now, since Señor Zorro had no weapon except his short dagger.
“Ha! Who has not heard of Zorro?” came the reply. “And it is not to be expected that one of his excellency’s officers would go far out of his regular way to do Señor Zorro a service. Yet an officer will serve his duty, and there are certain things to be considered, lieutenant. In a pirate camp a few miles from this place is aseñoritaof proper blood and severalcaballeroswho must be rescued before they are tortured. I have ridden here for help, having made an escape.”
“Made your escape?” Captain Ramón cried. “You came purposely with the story to lead the soldiers into a trap, you mean. Your story will avail you nothing, Señor Zorro. The lieutenant already is planning to ride to the rescue of his men. But you will remain here, a prisoner in the guardroom, in a maniac’s shirt—”
“Ha!” Señor Zorro shrieked. “Lieutenant, make no mistake about it. This Captain Ramón may outrank you, but he is a traitor, and I would have all honest men know it. He is in league with the pirates himself.”
“You scarcely can expect me to believe that,” the lieutenant replied, smiling.
“It is the truth, by the saints! He is planning to lead your men into an ambush, no doubt!”
“I think that we have had enough of this nonsense, Don Diego!” the lieutenant said, his official manner upon him.
“You believe Captain Ramón in preference to me?”
“I do! You are to consider yourself a prisoner, Don Diego. You’ll be held here safe until the rescue has been accomplished, and then there will be an investigation of this entire affair.”
“It will not be necessary for you to keep me a prisoner,” Señor Zorro replied, his eyes narrowing. “Lead your own soldiers, as you will, and be quick about it, and do not listen to the advice of Captain Ramón. Theseñoritawho is held a captive is my betrothed. Her name is Lolita Pulido. At least allow me to remain free to aid in her rescue.”
“I cannot forget that you are Señor Zorro as well as Don Diego Vega, and that the Pulido family does not have the friendship of the Governor,” the lieutenant answered. “Captain Ramón has preferred a charge against you also. You remain in thepresidioa prisoner.”
The lieutenant picked up a silver whistle from the table, and started to put it to his lips to blow a blast that would call his orderly. But Señor Zorro, it appeared, had no intention of being kept a prisoner. He glanced swiftly toward Captain Ramón again, and then darted forward.
The lieutenant’s whistle was knockedfrom his left hand, but Señor Zorro did not succeed in getting possession of the officer’s sword as he hurled him aside. He dashed on to the wall, struck it and whirled away, and came back with considerable momentum. Captain Ramón had started toward the door.
But as he put out a hand to pull the door open Señor Zorro grasped a small stool that stood at one end of the long table and hurled it with precise aim. It struck the captain’s arm and caused him to recoil with a cry of pain.
The lieutenant was young, and enjoyed the recklessness of his youth. He bellowed his challenge and charged. Señor Zorro caught his sword against the dagger and warded off the blow. But, to do so, he was compelled to give some ground, and so Captain Ramón got to the door and opened it.
“Troopers!” he cried. “Help! This way! Yourcommandanteis attacked!”
Señor Zorro fenced the lieutenant for a moment, but he knew well that he could not do so for long with any great degree of success. And suddenly he dropped to his knees, and the lieutenant, lunging with his blade, tripped over him and sprawled on the floor. Zorro was upon his feet again before Captain Ramón could reach his side. Again he whirled, and Captain Ramón recoiled against the wall, his sword advanced, his left arm stretched out across a wood panel.
Señor Zorro did not care to encounter the long blade with his dagger; besides, he heard the soldiers coming. His arm flashed, and the dagger flew through the air. Through the sleeve of Captain Ramón’s uniform coat went the sharp blade, to be driven almost to the hilt in the wood beyond. The captain was held safely for the moment.
There was one large window in the officer’s room, and it was swinging open. Zorro dashed for it, reached it, sprang up as the wondering troopers rushed in through the door. Through the window Señor Zorro plunged, sprawled on the ground for an instant, and then was upon his feet again and running with renewed vigor toward the front of the building.
But disaster waited for him there. The horse he had ridden had been jaded, and a soldier had taken the mount to the rear to rub it down. Zorro found his horse gone, and that of Captain Ramón also. The troopers in front of thepresidiowere in their saddles. And they surrounded the unmounted horses of those who had rushed inside in answer to the captain’s call.
Señor Zorro turned immediately to flee. But the shrieks from inside thepresidiotold the troopers what was happening. They forced their mounts forward, ran Señor Zorro down, cut off his flight, and surrounded him. For a moment there was a pretty battle; but the troopers did not strike to slay, not understanding, quite, the status of this man who seemed to have run amuck. However, they prevented an escape.
The lieutenant shrieked from the window, demanding an immediate capture. Señor Zorro made one last attempt to escape. He darted beneath the belly of a horse, got outside the circle of troopers, and dashed away. He reached the corner of the low building and went up it as a fly goes up a wall, using the rough masonry of the corner as stepping-stones.
Across the roof he darted, while the soldiers urged their horses forward again in an effort to surround the building. Down the other side of the roof he ran, skipping across the Spanish tiles until he reached the eaves.
Below him was his horse, and the hostler was wiping one of the animal’s forelegs. Señor Zorro did not hesitate. He crouched and sprang, and landed in the saddle. The hostler rolled to one side in fright as the animal lurched forward.
Señor Zorro whirled the beast toward the highway. But he saw at a glance that there was small chance of escape. The mount he bestrode was almost exhausted, and the troopers had fresh mounts. And they were upon him with a rush.
Weaponless, he could do nothing. They charged around him, pulled him down from the saddle, made him prisoner, and then marched him back to the entrance of thepresidio, where the lieutenant and Captain Ramón were waiting.
“The maniac’s shirt for him!” the lieutenant commanded. “Put him into it and then into the guardroom. Two men will remain behind to see that he does not escape. But I scarcely think that even Señor Zorro can escape the maniac’s shirt!”
“Put me in it, and I hold it against you!” Zorro warned.
“I have given my orders,” the lieutenant replied loftily.
“One last word for your ear!” Zorro said. “You are making a sad mistake. I tell you here and now, before some of your men, that this Captain Ramón is a renegade and a traitor. Heed not his advice! And ride swiftly, else you’ll not accomplish the rescue. I charge you to take theseñoritato a place of safety.”
“Certainly,señor!”
“You’ll not let me ride with you?”
“I have given my orders.”
“Lieutenant, I swear by my honor as acaballerothat all I have told you is the truth. Does that carry weight with you?”
It seemed to carry weight, for the officer hesitated. Acaballerodoes not pledge his honor lightly. But how could it be possible that an officer like Captain Ramón could be anything but loyal and true. And Captain Ramón himself decided the lieutenant.
“For acaballeroto swear by his honor is a great thing,” the captain said. “Yet now and then we find a man ofcaballeroblood who forgets the honor that should be his. And we remember that you are Señor Zorro, also!”
“Señor—” Zorro began angrily.
But the lieutenant cut him short. “I have decided,” he said. “You will be held a prisoner in the maniac’s shirt until we return. Take him away!”
The soldiers grasped him roughly, hurried him inside and to the guardroom. There, Señor Zorro tried to fight again, but could accomplish nothing against so many foes. They lashed his ankles and knees and tied his wrists together in front of him. And then one fetched the maniac’s shirt. The latter was exactly what it was named, an instrument used on violent maniacs to prevent them harming themselves or anybody else. It was a long bag of leather, constructed so that a man could be slipped into it bound, and the top of the bag then gathered around his neck with a leather thong.
Protesting to the last, Señor Zorro was put inside the leather bag and the neck thong tightened. And then they propped him up on a bench in a corner, and left the room. The door closed; he heard the bar go up against it.
The soldiers hurried away. There was a moment of silence. And then Señor Zorro heard the clattering of horses’ hoofs as they rode toward the highway. And he was left behind, bound and helpless, in the guardroom of thepresidio, in the maniac’s shirt, and with two troopers just outside the door.