“Ruin would not change the blood of the Pulidos, señor. I doubt whether you understand that, evidently having ill-blood yourself. Don Diego shall hear of this. He is my father’s friend—”
“And you would wed the rich Don Diego, eh, and straighten out your father’s affairs? You would not wed an honorable soldier, but would sell yourself—”
“Señor!” she shrieked.
This was beyond endurance. She was alone, there was nobody near to resent the insult. So her blood called upon her to avenge it herself.
Like a flash of lightning her hand went forward, and came against Captain Ramón’s cheek with a crack. Then she sprang backward, but he grasped her by an arm, and drew her toward him.
“I shall take a kiss to pay for that!” he said. “Such a tiny bit of womanhood can be handled with one arm, thank the saints!”
She fought him, striking and scratching at his breast, for she could not reach his face. But he only laughed at her, and held her tighter until she was almost spent and breathless, and finally he threw back her head and looked down into her eyes.
“A kiss in payment, señorita!” he said. “It will be a pleasure to tame such a wild one.”
She tried to fight again, but could not. She called upon the saints to aid her. And Captain Ramón laughed more, and bent his head, and his lips came close to hers.
But he never claimed the kiss. She started to wrench away from him again, and he was forced to strengthen his arm and pull her forward. And from a corner of the room there came a voice that was at once deep and stern.
“One moment, señor!” it said.
Captain Ramón released the girl and whirled on one heel. He blinked his eyes to pierce the gloom of the corner; he heard Señorita Lolita give a glad cry.
Then Captain Ramón, disregarding the presence of the lady, cursed, once and loudly, for Señor Zorro stood before him.
He did not pretend to know how the highwayman had entered the house; he did not stop to think of it. He realized that he was without a blade at his side, and that he could not use it had he one, because of his wounded shoulder. And Señor Zorro was walking toward him from the corner.
“Outlaw I may be, but I respect women!” the Curse of Capistrano said. “And you, an officer of the army, do not, it appears. What are you doing here, Captain Ramón?”
“And what do you here?”
“I heard a lady’s scream, which is warrant enough for a caballero to enter any place, señor. It appears to me that you have broken all the conventions.”
“Perhaps the lady has broken them also.”
“Señor!” roared the highwayman. “Another thought like that and I cut you down where you stand, though you are a wounded man! How shall I punish you?”
“Despensero! Natives!” the captain shouted suddenly. “Here is Señor Zorro! A reward if you take him!”
The masked man laughed. “ ’Twill do you small good to call for help,” he said. “Spend your breath in saying your prayers, rather!”
“You do well to threaten a wounded man.”
“You deserve death, señor, but I suppose I must allow you to escape that. But you will go down upon your knees and apologize to this señorita! And then you will go from this house, slink from it like the cur you are, and keep your mouth closed regarding what has transpired here. If you do not, I promise to soil my blade with your life’s blood!”
“Ha!”
“On your knees, señor, and instantly!” Señor Zorro commanded. “I have no time to waste in waiting.”
“I am an officer—”
“On your knees!” commanded Señor Zorro again, in a terrible voice. He sprang forward and grasped Captain Ramón by his well shoulder, and threw him to the floor.
“Quickly, poltroon! Tell the señorita that you humbly beg her pardon—which she will not grant, of course, since you are beneath speaking to—and that you will not annoy her again! Say it, or, by the saints, you have made your last speech!”
Captain Ramón said it. And then Señor Zorro grasped him by the neck and lifted him, and propelled him to the door, and hurled him into the darkness. And had his boots not been soft, Captain Ramón would have been injured more deeply, both in feelings and anatomy.
Señor Zorro closed the door as the despensero came running into the room, to stare in fright at the masked man.
“Señorita, I trust that I have been of service,” the highwayman said. “That scoundrel will not bother you further, else he feels the sting of my blade again.”
“Oh, thank you, señor—thank you!” she cried. “I shall tell my father this good deed you have done. Despensero, get him wine!”
There was naught for the butler to do except obey, since she had voiced the order, and he hurried from the room, pondering on the times and the manners.
Señorita Lolita stepped to the man’s side.
“Señor,” she breathed, “you saved me from insult. You saved me from the pollution of that man’s lips. Señor, though you deem me unmaidenly, I offer you freely the kiss he would have taken!”
She put up her face, and closed her eyes.
“And I shall not look when you raise your mask,” she said.
“It were too much, señorita,” he said. “Your hand—but not your lips.”
“You shame me, señor! I was bold to offer it, and you have refused.”
“You shall feel no shame,” he said.
He bent swiftly, raised the bottom of his mask, and touched lightly her lips with his.
“Ah, señorita!” he said. “I would I were an honest man and could claim you openly. My heart is filled with love of you!”
“And mine with love of you!”
“This is madness! None must know!”
“I would not fear to tell the world, señor!”
“Your father and his fortunes! Don Diego!”
“I love you, señor.”
“Your chance to be a great lady! Do you think I did not know Don Diego was the man you meant when we spoke in your father’s
