The Mark of Zorro Read Online Free PDF

crowd about the door suddenly parted, and Don Diego Vega hurried into the tavern.
    â€œWhat is this I hear?” he asked. “They are saying that Señor Zorro has paid a visit here.”
    â€œâ€˜Tis a true word, caballero!” Gonzales answered. “And we were speaking of the cutthroat here this evening. Had you remained instead of going home to work with your secretary, you should have seen the entire affair.”
    â€œWere you not here? Can you not tell me?” Don Diego asked. “But I pray you make not the tale too bloody. I cannot see why men must be violent. Where is the highwayman’s dead body?”
    Gonzales choked; the fat landlord turned away to hide his smile; the corporal and soldiers began picking up wine mugs to keep busy at this dangerous moment.
    â€œHe—that is, there is no body,” Gonzales managed to say.
    â€œHave done with your modesty, Sergeant!” Don Diego cried. “Am I not your friend? Did you not promise to tell me the story if you met this cutthroat? I know you would spare my feelings, knowing that I do not love violence, yet I am eager for the facts because you, my friend, have been engaged with this fellow. How much was the reward?”
    â€œBy the saints!” Gonzales swore.
    â€œCome, Sergeant! Out with the tale! Landlord, give all of us wine, that we may celebrate this affair! Your tale, Sergeant! Shall you leave the army, now that you have earned the reward, and purchase a hacienda and take a wife?”
    Sergeant Gonzales choked again, and reached gropingly for a wine mug.
    â€œYou promised me,” Don Diego continued, “that you would tell me the whole thing, word by word. Did he not say as much, landlord? You declared that you would relate how you played with him; how you laughed at him while you fought; how you pressed him back after a time and then ran him through—”
    â€œBy the saints!” Sergeant Gonzales roared, the words coming from between his lips like pearls of thunder. “It is beyond the endurance of any man! You—Don Diego—my friend—”
    â€œYour modesty ill becomes you at such a time,” Don Diego said. “You promised the tale, and I would have it. What does this Señor Zorro look like? Have you peered at the dead face beneath the mask? It is, perhaps, some man that we all know? Cannot some one of you tell me the facts? You stand here like so many speechless images of men—”
    â€œWine—or I choke!” Gonzales howled. “Don Diego, you are my good friend, and I will cross swords with any man who belittles you! But do not try me too far this night—”
    â€œI fail to understand,” Don Diego said. “I have but asked you to tell me the story of the right—how you mocked him as you battled; how you pressed him back at will, and presently ended it by running him through—”
    â€œEnough! Am I to be taunted?” the big sergeant cried. He gulped down the wine and hurled the mug far from him.
    â€œIs it possible that you did not win the battle?” Don Diego asked. “But surely this pretty highwayman could not stand up before you, my sergeant. How was the outcome?”
    â€œHe had a pistol—”
    â€œWhy did you not take it away from him, then, and crowd it down his throat? But perhaps that is what you did. Here is more wine, my sergeant. Drink!”
    But Sergeant Gonzales was thrusting his way through the throng at the door.
    â€œI must not forget my duty!” he said. “I must hurry to the presidio and report this occurrence to the comandante! ”
    â€œBut, Sergeant—”
    â€œAnd, as to this Señor Zorro, he will be meat for my blade before I am done!” Gonzales promised.
    And then, cursing horribly, he rushed away through the rain, the first time in his life he ever had allowed duty to interfere with his pleasure and had run from good wine.
    Don Diego Vega smiled as he turned