The Secret of Zorro This Is Your Family Chapter Seven by Ella Christian @1999-2002 Contact author at EllaChristian@aol.com Chapter Seven La Casa Chica Zorro took Phantom out of the cave and through the hidden canyon, uncertain what direction to take once he was beyond the confines of their hide-away. The horse was eager to run, and pranced impatiently as his rider looked both ways in the darkening evening. East? Or west? All logic dictated that they had headed for one of the southern roads to Mexico. But as El Zorro searched his instincts, his heart told him no. They loved their inn and the tavern. They did not, he believed, want to leave Los Angeles. He patted the side of Phantom's neck. "Easy, boy," he said gently. "I know you want to run, and so you shall. But I do not think they are far. I think they will hole up somewhere until they figure out what to do. Somewhere outside of the pueblo, and somewhere that no one would think of looking. What do you think, Phantom? Who has such places?" He continued to consider his questions, looking in the four directions. "They will be riding horses, probably either horses from the cuartel or their own horses, if they managed to get home before leaving," he said. He patted Phantom's neck again. "Can you find me some horses, Phantom? You are a smart fellow." He nudged the horse forward, and was rewarded with an eager prance. "No, easy, wait...easy," Zorro said, holding the stallion back. "Think, Phantom.... we want two horses and two riders, not too far away, in a quiet place where they can rest." An idea occurred to him. "We shall take a little risk," he told the horse, "but it is for a good cause." He squeezed the horse's girth, pointing his nose in the direction of Rancho Bocca. "Let's go, boy," he said. It was all the mighty Phantom needed. The horse reared slightly, gathering himself, and then charged northward in an easy gallop. ****** "When do you think we should leave for Rancho de la Vega?" Rosaria asked her husband. She was lying in the middle of the big green bed, having napped lightly. Juan was sitting at the table by the stove, examining the contents of their hastily-packed saddle bags. "We will wait until it is nearly dark," he answered. She sat up and looked to see what he was doing. "Are the santos intact?" she asked. "Si," he answered, holding up a carved black image. "Nothing is damaged." "Thank the blessed Virgin," she replied, lying back down. Juan Bottega ran his fingers over his moustache thoughtfully. "These are worth a great deal, in Mexico." "You cannot sell them!" she exclaimed, sitting back up. "They have been in my family for three generations!" "I do not wish to sell them, Rosa, but if we are without money and have no home...." "You cannot sell them!" He looked over at her. "I imagine that Don Alejandro would prize these, and perhaps even agree to sell them back to us one day. Or Don Carlos, now he would certainly buy them." Rosaria got up and marched over to her husband. "You are not to sell them, not even to Don Alejandro! And certainly not to Don Carlos, who would keep them forever! Have you not seen that collection of dolls in his little drawing room? Or his library? He keeps things!" She took a deep breath. "If we must sell them we must somehow make them available to the church. At least with Padre Felipe we would know they would be seen and respected, and they would be able to bless and help everyone in the pueblo." Juan took his wife's hand. He looked at it, a hand that had washed far too many mugs and plates in the last ten years, a hand that once was the fine hand of the wife of an esteemed military leader. "Perhaps we should give in and go back to Mexico," he said to her softly. "Perhaps it is foolish to avoid a destiny that I cannot seem to escape, despite my cleverness." She sat down beside him. "Is that what you want, Juan? You did not want to remain in the army when we left, and you have loved Los Angeles and our little Tavern in the pueblo." "But we are seen as peons here, Rosa, we are not part of the finer class...and we would be in Mexico. I can put the uniform back on, and train the young men. These are not things one forgets how to do. I am sure that is why they are after me." "You have said to me many times that if we stay here, a merchant class will emerge. And we will be leaders in it. How many times have you told me, 'we must simply be patient and persistent.'?" He smiled. "Si, I have said that. And the merchant class.... it is certain to emerge. Especially now that the dons have established the First Bank." He shook his head. "That assumes the new government does not force them to dismantle it." "I think they would have a rebellion on their hands if they did!" she snorted. "Those men have put their own money, and their imaginations and time into establishing that bank. I would not want to face them all, even with a battalion, if the bank is banned. Zorro himself would fight with them." Juan laughed. "What makes you say that? Zorro has always stayed above economics." "Perhaps, but he has no tolerance for injustice, and this would be a great injustice, to take down the First Bank." Juan patted her cheek playfully. "Always you are thinking, my good wife." He shook his head. "If only we could persuade the Commandante that it is too late for me to return to Mexico." "The commandante!" she snorted again. "If we could find you a sword you could kill him in a duel and we would be done with him." "I have not fenced in many years, Rosa," Juan reminded her. "It will take me much practice to regain those skills." "I think not," she said to him. "Even after all these years, Zorro himself would face a worthy opposite in Colonel Juan Esposito." ****** The hacienda became extremely quiet after the two padres and their young charges, loaded down with the candies and treasures that the piņata held, departed for the mission. Esperanza waved bye-bye to them all as they loaded into the large wagon. Everyone was greatly entertained by the efforts of Brother Anselm to get into the front of the wagon beside Padre Felipe, for climbing up a high step was not one of his priestly gifts. When he finally huffed into his seat, thanks to hefty push from behind at the hands of Sergeant Garcia, the entire wagon groaned precariously. This inspired Rufino to shout "Congratulations, Sergeant, and Sergeant Nephew!" This launched a lecture from Brother Anselm on the values of respect and veracity, as the wagon slowly rumbled away. Elizabeth, holding her daughter, watched the scene with a smile, though her heart was aching. "Do not forget to study your English!" Don Carlos called after them. Rufino waved wildly as the wagon disappeared around the bend and into the late afternoon shadows. "They are so...lively," Sergeant Garcia remarked, dusting his hands off after the shove he had given Brother Anselm. "Especially Rufino." "Si," Elizabeth agreed, biting her lip to keep from saying more. Instinctively she kissed Esperanza's head, causing the baby to turn around and grin at her, exclaiming "Mah!" "Come see your Chocho," Carlos said, reaching for his granddaughter. Alejandro not on hand when the children left because Lieutenant Vilaro, after his unsuccessful encounter with El Zorro, instructed his lancers to post themselves at all the entrances to the house. He then demanded a guest room in which to recompose himself. "I suppose he will require a hot bath, too," Alejandro muttered to Elizabeth under his breath as he departed to see to the commandante's needs. Conchita herded her young kitchen assistants to their quarters for a brief siesta before the final preparations for the evening party. It was certain that the night would be a late one. Among the servants the word was to rest and be vigilant, for the rumor was circulating that Doņa Elizabeth was going to spike the party punch with her famous recipe. After handing off her daughter, Elizabeth excused herself and wandered to the stable to visit Blanca and try to clear her head. They had many guests coming for the evening and she felt in no mood to entertain. She wanted only to bring Rufino home. A surge of misery rose up in her heart, not only over him but over all of the orphaned half-breed children that had ridden away in the cart. They had no mother, only the priests and Indians and peons at the mission to care for them. "It is not right, Blanca," she told her mare, standing quietly outside the stall. "Rufino's home is here, I do not care who his mother was." She leaned her head into the railing, summoning her own mother's wise spirit. "What do I do, Mommie?" she said softly in English. Do nothing, Elizabeth, she heard her mother's silent whisper on the warm breeze. Do not interfere. "But this child...." Elizabeth whispered, her throat becoming tight. "He is a de la Vega..." It is for Alejandro and the boy to resolve, in their own time. Elizabeth fought back her tears, feeling the heat in her cheeks and the stinging in her eyes. "I am afraid it will be hard for Diego," she said softly. He has you. He has Esperanza. "Yes," Elizabeth said. "But I am afraid this will be hard, between him and Alejandro." Do not underestimate their bond. Do not forget they come from a world that is different from yours. What has happened with Rufino happens in their world. "But it is my world now, too, Mommie." As quickly as it arrived, the breeze was gone and Elizabeth realized she was alone. She opened her eyes to see Blanca's large, liquid brown eyes gazing at her from a foot away. The mare lifted her head and nuzzled Elizabeth's hand. "I do not have a treat for you, I am sorry," Elizabeth told her, rubbing her long white forehead. "How is your little foal, Blanca? Will you give me the black colt I want so much for Diego?" An unfamiliar, high-pitched knicker came from a few stalls away. Elizabeth frowned, looking in the direction of the sound. Blanca looked in the same direction and snorted. Elizabeth stepped away from Blanca and walked further, to a darkened stall at the far end of the barn. This particular stall was heavily fenced and rarely used. It was saved for horses that were badly misbehaving and required more containment than the regular, lightly-barred stalls. She peered over the top of the fencing. "Who are you?" she asked. Peering back up at her, under a long, heavy shock of blond hair, was a short, golden brown pony. It nickered again, nearly squeaking. Elizabeth laughed, unlocking the gate and walking into the stall. The pony, which was barely ten hands tall, took a step towards her and sniffed at her skirt. "You are not much bigger than a big dog," Elizabeth told it. "Where did you come from?" The pony snorted, stepping back. Elizabeth reached out and patted its neck. "I am sorry, I should not compare you to a dog," she apologized. She looked around, wondering when, how, and why anyone had smuggled a new pony into the stable. Walking around it and then bending over to inspect its barrel and legs, she determined that this was a mare, a relatively young one. "But we have a pony," she told it. "A big black and white one! Why do we need a little...?" then she stopped. She leaned over and looked the pony in the eye. "Someone thinks a very small horse is needed in this household!" she said. "For a very small person!" The pony shook its petite head and gave a hearty snort, wiggling its lips open and shut. Elizabeth laughed. "So you like to talk, do you? Are you a little chatterbox?" The pony snorted and waggled its lips again. ****** Phantom carried his rider into the twilight, racing towards the last of the sinking sun, until they reached a crossroad and slowed down. Zorro paused here, looking about, and then directed his steed to the east. A quarter of a mile beyond the crossroad he headed off the road and onto a narrow path leading up into the hills above the Cahuenga Pass. The terrain was rough and Phantom did not know this trail, so they picked their way up carefully until the trail plateaued. Zorro had not been on this trail in a very long time, but he guided his steed forward into the deepening darkness. He patted Phantom's neck. "The moon will rise soon, and it is a clear night," he said. "That will help us." They walked on, and up again as the trail once again began rising. Then they reached another flat place. Zorro stopped the white stallion and, dismounting, tied him to a tree behind a small cluster of rocks. "You must stay here, I will be back," he said, holding his finger to his lips. "Shhhhhh." Phantom shook his head, clearly not wanting to be left behind. "Stay here," Zorro insisted. He then turned and continued on foot in the darkness. Indeed, the moonrise brought a pale silvery light to the canyon, and Zorro stayed close to the rocks and scrub in order to remain as undetectable as possible. He rounded a turn on the trail and then stopped. Ahead of him was a small cabin. A lit candle in the window signaled that someone was there. He approached slowly, silently drawing his sword. Then he heard a footstep on the porch and stopped, planting himself behind a tall rock. "I shall be back very late," a man's voice said. Zorro, peering over the rock, could see a man emerging from the cabin. "I must go to Rancho de la Vega for the fiesta tonight." "Si, Don Francisco," a woman's soft voice came from inside the cabin. Zorro ducked back down, realizing he was at the wrong cabin at the wrong moment. He waited as the man's footfall descended from the cabin porch and around to the back of the shack. A few seconds later he heard hooves. Keeping his place, he waited until the horse passed, silently praying that Phantom would not decide to be friendly to his fellow horse and its rider as they passed. He waited, feeling uncharacteristic anxiety, for he knew Phantom was prone to extroversion in matters of neighborliness. The horse and rider disappeared into the darkness, and all was silent. He waited another half minute, holding his breath. The silence prevailed. Then he scurried quickly back to where he had left his horse. Phantom saw him and shook his head again. "I am sorry I doubted you," Zorro told him, pulling himself up into the saddle. "I made a mistake in guessing where we should look, and now I have learned something I wish I did not know." He sat there for a moment, trying to hold the horse still in order to put as much space between himself and Don Francisco as possible. He knew these customs, of course. This was Francisco Bocca's casa chica. He had always known this little house existed, it was here when he was a boy, a place where he and Windhawk would sometimes play. At the time it was deserted, or so he believed. They had come once, as young teenagers, to find Benicio here with an Indian girl. It had caused a sour scene between Benicio and Windhawk. Not a memory he cared to revisit. Zorro waited, looking up at the moonrise. He considered the situation, forcing himself to concentrate again on a possible hiding place for Juan and Rosaria. "They were supposed to come to the hacienda tonight," he murmured to himself. Then a new idea occurred to him. "Let us try again, Phantom, and this time we will hope we are not headed into the private affairs of others. At least we will be closer to home." He nudged the horse's sides and headed down the trail, now a good five minutes behind Francisco Bocca. ****** "Juan," Rosaria said, poking her husband's arm gently. "Si, what?" the man muttered, still half asleep. "The moon is rising, we must make a decision about going to Rancho de la Vega," she said. "We are on Rancho de la Vega," he answered, taking a deep breath and refusing to open his eyes. "Do not awaken me, I am very tired. It is not every day that a man runs away from home." "Juan!" she said more loudly, poking him again. "I am hungry!" He sat up, annoyed. "I warned you to eat something at the cuartel and you would not listen." "I was saving myself for the fiesta." Outside, both of them heard a rustle and a step on the porch. Juan jumped off the bed immediately, looking desperately for something in the kitchen with which he could defend them. The front door swung open. His sword drawn, El Zorro strode into the room. "Stay where you are, seņora," he said to Rosaria, holding his free hand up at her in a "halt" gesture. He turned to Juan. "Seņor Bottega...." he said, bowing slightly. Then he looked the man in the eye. "Or perhaps I should say, Colonel Esposito." Rosaria gasped. Juan Bottega put the ladle he had grabbed down, bowing back at the masked man. "Seņor Zorro, once again you have proven your ability to know things in Los Angeles that no one knows," he said elegantly. "How did you find us?" "You may call it instinct," Zorro answered. He eyed Bottega for a moment and then sheathed his sword. "I do not have a quarrel with you, Seņor, except insofar as you may return to Mexico." He folded his arms and eyed the barkeeper. "This I do not believe would be good for you or for California." Juan raised his hands. "I have escaped the cuartel in an effort to avoid it. What else can I do to assure you that returning to Mexico and the army is the last thing we wish for?" "I believe you," Zorro stated. "The question is, how can we make sure it does not happen? Vilaro and his men are all over the de la Vega hacienda, convinced you will show up there." "That is what we had planned," Rosaria offered. Juan Bottega rolled his eyes. Zorro smiled. "I see," he said. "It is because we promised Doņa Elizabeth and Don Alejandro," Rosaria continued, refusing to be made foolish-looking. "And we wanted to see our friends one more time, before we left Los Angeles." Zorro's eyes traveled, in the dim light, to the foot of the bed. He saw the sack lying there. "What is this?" he asked, nodding at it. "It is my family saints!" Rosaria answered, putting her hands on the sack protectively. "Oh, do not worry, I will not steal them," Zorro said, taking a step back. "But they may be of use to you, Seņora, if you and your husband are to escape the fate that the Mexicans have in mind for you." Juan Bottega frowned. "Can you think of a way for us to get out of this?" he asked. "Will you help us?" Zorro bowed again, giving his cape a flourish. "That is why I am here, Seņor," he replied. He grinned again. "Do I recall that Colonel Esposito was a renowned swordsman in his day?" "He was the best in all Mexico!" Rosaria exclaimed. "I am glad to hear it," El Zorro said, "for that may be tested tonight. Bring your saints and follow me." ****** It was well into the evening, guests expected shortly, when Elizabeth encountered Alejandro alone in the sala. She had changed into her evening clothes, her deep blue dress shimmering around her. "Where is Esperanza?" he asked, putting his glass of wine down. "You look beautiful tonight, my dear." "She is upstairs, having her bath," Elizabeth answered stiffly. "My father and Maria are with her." She was hearing again in her head Diego's message to keep things to herself until he could return. She had hoped to do so simply by avoiding her father-in-law, but here he was. "I am surprised Diego is not back," Alejandro sighed. "Bernardo told me he went to look for Juan and Rosaria." Elizabeth nodded. "Are you all right?" Alejandro asked. "He will be all right, Elizabeth, do not worry." "I am not worried about Diego," she said flatly. She then bit her lip, feeling her tone had been all wrong. "Are you worried about something else?" he asked, catching the strain in her voice. Elizabeth said nothing, wondering how she could excuse herself and trying to remember what had brought her into the room in the first place. Alejandro let out an annoyed sigh. "I am more than ready for those soldiers to leave!" he said. "Si, it would be good if they would return to the pueblo," Elizabeth agreed. She glanced up at the portrait of Matilde de la Vega and suddenly felt as if she would explode. "Did you see Vilaro nearly attack that boy today?" Alejandro went on, oblivious. "I thought he was going to run poor Rufino through with his sword! It was appalling! The boy can be annoying, of course, but that was..." "Oh, Alejandro!" Elizabeth blurted, "You are talking about him as if he were a stranger!" Alejandro frowned. "Him...who?" he asked. "Rufino!" Elizabeth exclaimed, feeling sudden heat brimming in her soul. She thought again about the boy as he waved, leaving in the wagon that afternoon. Alejandro waited a moment, trying to determine what was agitating her. "Rufino?" he repeated. "I have known Rufino most of his life." "You have known him more than most of his life!" Elizabeth replied, her discipline collapsing. Alejandro stared at her, at first puzzled. "In fact I believe it was his mother that you knew!" Elizabeth stated. The room fell to deadly silence, Alejandro staring at her and Elizabeth staring back at him. "What are you saying?" he finally asked. "Oh for heaven's sake, has God made all de la Vega men dense in this regard!???" Elizabeth exclaimed. She went for the door and exited, slamming it shut behind her and leaving Alejandro standing alone in his sala, accused and suddenly overwhelmed with a flood of memories. It was as she was furiously tearing up the stairs towards her room that Elizabeth remembered why she had gone into the sala. She was looking for Bernardo, imagining he might know the story behind the little golden pony in the barn. ****** "Open your eyes, Light Breeze," he said softly into her ear. He pulled the horse they were riding to a stop. She opened her eyes. Before them was a small stucco cabin with thick terra cotta roof tiles, sitting cozy in the shade of a grove of eucalyptus trees. Her mouth opened in amazement. "It is for you," he continued. He slid off the horse's bare back and reached up to help her down. "It is your house, and the house we will spend time in together." Light Breeze stood there, wordless. He put his arms around her from behind, so that they could both look at it. The afternoon light was warm, and the leaves in the trees made a light, feathery, shivering sound in the whisper of wind. "Do you like it?" he asked. She nodded. He leaned forward and smiled at her, then let go of her and took her hand, leading her up onto the steps and into the house. It was only one room, with a kitchen area in one corner and a large, elegant, finely-carved bed in another. She looked around at all of it and then smiled back at him. He laughed, hugging her. "I hoped you would like it!" he whispered in her ear. "It will keep you warm when the rains come, and cool when the sun is too strong. We will spend our nights here, and you will be safe, for I will be here with you." Then he covered her mouth with his, kicking the door shut behind them. ****** Diego slipped through the secret door and into the bedroom, to finish dressing and tie his tie. Much to his surprise, Elizabeth was lying on their bed. "Are you sick?" he asked her, leaning over her with concern. "Our guests have started arriving." "Si," she said softly, her face in her pillow. "You're sick?" he said, thinking that was her answer. "No, I know the guests are arriving," she said. Maria has Esperanza." "What is the matter?" he asked. "Did you find Juan and Rosaria?" she asked him, turning over to look at him. "Si," he smiled at her. "We have a plan." He ran his finger down her cheek. "Why are you up here?" he asked. Elizabeth looked up into her beloved's handsome face and felt terrible all over again, her anger having given way to deep remorse. "I did something bad," she said quietly. He frowned. "What?" Then he waited. She said nothing. He sighed. "You confronted my father about Rufino," he said. She nodded. "I'm sorry Diego, it just...came out...he was talking about Rufino and I just..." He sighed, getting up off the bed and turning to the mirror to finish his tie and straighten his jacket. "I was very upset..." she trailed off. "Clearly," he observed, staring at himself in the mirror. Then his eyes returned to her. "Get up, Elizabeth, we have guests." She hated it when he took the tone he now had with her. It was abrupt, business-like, and laced with steely disappointment. "Do not be mad at me," she pleaded. "I specifically asked you not to say anything to him, and you did it anyway," he said flatly. "I believe I am entitled to some anger. And some disappointment." "Oh, Diego, don't..." she said. He turned and left the room, pulling the door shut behind him with emphasis. Elizabeth wanted to burst into tears, but also knew she would only make matters worse by not appearing soon and graciously at the party. She took several gulps of air and made herself get up. Another party in which we must pretend we are having a good time when we are not, she told herself miserably. She felt terrible about what she had done. She knew she owed both Alejandro and Diego apologies. She also knew she would not be able to make them for the next several hours. She got up and looked into the mirror, and pinched her cheeks. She ran her fingers through her chestnut hair and shook it. Then she put her hand over her mouth, trying yet again not to start crying. ****** Diego did not go far. He was ten steps from his own door when he heard the sound of his little daughter giggling. He stopped and looked into her room, to see Maria changing her into her sleeping dress. Esperanza saw him in the doorway and said, "Dah," softly. "She is ready to go downstairs now, to see some of the guests before she goes to sleep, Don Diego," Maria told him, picking the baby up. "Is Doņa Elizabeth coming?" Diego walked into the room and took Esperanza, who instantly reached up and hugged his neck. "I'll take her, Maria, you can go downstairs." Maria smiled. "Si, Don Diego," she said. She waved at Esperanza and left the room. Diego stood there for a moment, holding his daughter and trying to calm himself. He was furious with Elizabeth and still feeling overwhelmed with the news he had been handed that afternoon. He wanted to know how his father was. He was having a rare moment of not wanting to see his wife coming for a long time. But feeling the warm, wriggling body of his daughter in his arms softened his inner turmoil. He gave her a big kiss on her cheek and looked at her. "Buenos noches, muchacha," he said to her. "Dah, Chocho!" she pointed towards the door. "Oh, you have seen Chocho, or you want to see Chocho?" he asked, looking out the door. "Dahd," she said softly, patting his cheek. Then she looked out the door again. Diego took a long, tender look at her and recognized, as she looked urgently out towards the balcony, the searching look he sometimes saw on her mother's face. "Who are you looking for, Ranza?" he asked her softly. "Mahmmmmah," the baby said, a more anxious frown forming on her face. "Mommie is right next door," he told her. "You are so pretty tonight." Esperanza's brow wrinkled and she gave Diego a look that told him she was about to start bawling. "No, sweetheart, do not cry," he said, beginning to jiggle her softly in his arms. He shifted to rocking her and swinging her through the air. Esperanza giggled. "Up she goes, and down she goes..." he said, swooping her up in his arms and then down low. "She may land upon her toes, she may land upon her knees, she may land among the bees, Ranza flies upon the breeze!" he swept her up and down again, whirling her around in the room, laughing softly. The baby continued to giggle. As he turned around, Diego saw his wife standing in the doorway. She was lit from the back by the hanging lantern on the balcony, her blue dress shining softly in the yellow light. He stopped still on seeing her, feeling the turmoil reassert itself. "Mah," Esperanza said, reaching for her. Elizabeth didn't move for a moment, and then took a tentative step forward. Diego responded by walking to her and handing Esperanza over. "I need to find my father," he said to her, keeping his tone as neutral as he could. Elizabeth nodded, giving the baby a kiss on her head. She did not know what to say, so she said nothing until he was out of the room. After he was on the balcony, Diego heard Elizabeth ask, "Was Daddy playing with you? Was he doing your swinging song?" He stopped, standing in the darkness, looking down onto the patio where numerous guests were arriving. His father and Carlos were greeting people heartily. Alejandro seemed to be enjoying himself. "Oh, yes, that is a very nice flower that Maria brought into your room," he heard Elizabeth tell Esperanza. "It is a funny flower, isn't it?" He could envision them next to the dresser, Esperanza reaching for the Bird of Paradise in the vase. The lantern light would be shimmering on Elizabeth's hair, and Esperanza's smile would be all sweetness. In spite of himself, he felt his heart well up in response to this vision. Then he shook his head, thinking not for the first time that marriage was by far the most confounding, aggravating and exquisite thing that had ever happened to him. He looked again at his father, who was now welcoming the Boccas into the patio. Diego sighed, considering his earlier witness of Don Francisco. He knew he had to re-gather himself, as it was going to be a busy and complicated night. He heard a footstep and turned, to see Elizabeth and Esperanza in the doorway. "I thought you were going downstairs," Elizabeth said. "I am," he answered, holding his hand out for both of them. Elizabeth stepped forward, and he took her elbow, giving Esperanza a smile. "Let's go together." Elizabeth searched his face for a moment, and then nodded, still feeling the weight of her impulsive words earlier that evening with Alejandro. They went to the stairs and walked down to face their many guests and whatever else the evening held.