The Secret of Zorro
Tornado's Crown
Chapter Six
by Ella Christian @1999-2002
Contact author at EllaChristian@aol.com

Chapter Six
The Don's Left Arm

Elizabeth gasped.  "Shot!" she exclaimed, standing up.  She shoved Esperanza back into her father's arms, looking at Diego in horror. 

Diego looked at her innocently and shrugged, more with his right shoulder than with the left.

"Si, shot badly, in the arm!" Rufino said.  "Blood everywhere!  But we helped him, my father and Bernardo and I.  Zorro said he would be forever in our debt!"

The group fell silent except for Esperanza's crying.  Elizabeth stared at Diego, unable to keep herself from looking him up and down, trying to see where he could be hurt.  Everyone else's eyes were on Rufino. Though they all knew his parentage, none had ever heard him refer to Alejandro as "my father."  Even Alejandro looked shocked.

"Diego, could I see you in the sala for a moment?" Elizabeth said softly.

Diego stood up.  "Of course, darling."  He looked at Rufino.  "I assume that Zorro is all right, since you seem not to have brought him home with you in a cart."

"Oh, si, he rode away by himself on his white horse," Rufino affirmed.  

Diego grinned.  "There, you see, as usual he has conquered the day."  He offered his right hand to Elizabeth.  "Come," he said.  

She took his hand.  Esperanza continued to howl miserably, reaching for her mother.  Elizabeth walked with Diego into the house.

Everyone else's eyes were still on Rufino.  He looked around at them all, puzzled.  "Zorro is all right!" he announced reassuringly.

Alejandro cleared his throat, feeling it better to let the moment pass without further comment.  "Si, I think he is, or will be if he got somewhere and could rest that arm of his.  It was quite a shot.  Bernardo had to carve it out of him."

"What did he look like?" Consuelo asked.

Alejandro shrugged.  "Who can say?  He never took off his mask."

"I hope Clementia's Sergeant does not arrest you for helping him," Consuelo stated.

"He will never know, unless someone here tells him," Carlos shot back.

Everyone again looked at Rufino.

In the sala, Elizabeth was shaking.  "What happened to you?" she asked her husband.  "Why did Rufino say you..." she shook her head, "say Zorro was shot?"

Diego took advantage of their privacy to sit down, grimacing as he did so.  His back was to the window, so anyone who could see in through the glass would not be able to see his face.

"Diego, what is wrong?" she asked, coming over to him.  "What has happened?"

"Sit down by me here on the settee," he said.  "No, no, sit to my right, darling." She sat down, still shaking.  "Just sit here with me for a moment," he said.  "I am all right. Do not be upset."

"Diego..." she said sharply.

"Shhhh, shhhhh....it is true, I took a bullet tonight...."

She jerked around and looked into his face, horrified.

"Turn around, turn around," he instructed, trying to guide her back to face the fireplace as he did.  "Liz, be calm.  I am all right.  One of the lancers got me in the left arm.  Bernardo removed the bullet and bandaged me up, the bleeding has stopped, it looks clean.  It will just take some time to heal."  He took a deep breath.  "It hurts like hell, but it will heal."

"Oh Diego," she said, her voice trembling.  She managed to keep looking straight ahead, but her hand slipped to the top of his knee.  "Why didn't you come and get me? Why didn't Bernardo?"

He put his right hand over hers.  "There was nothing more you could do than they were doing, sweetheart," he told her.  "Do not take this out on Bernardo, I gave him clear instructions and would not hear any arguments.  The Natchez gang got away, thanks to Zorro leading them to a river crossing that our commandante does not like." He leaned over and kissed her hair above her ear.  "You look very beautiful tonight.  I want you to have a happy birthday dinner."

"Birthday?" she echoed, appalled.  "Diego you need to go upstairs and lie down. You cannot sit up all night drinking and toasting and eating and entertaining.  You look like death."

"I lost some blood, but I think I am better off than that!" he answered, trying to make a joke and sound indignant.

Her head turned slowly until her eyes met his.  He saw in her face the look he remembered from when he was lying in bed, poisoned by Benicio Bocca.  It made his heart sink, feeling worse for her than he did for himself despite how much his arm hurt.

"You look awful," she said.  "You do not know what you have been through."  She fought back tears.  "But your body will tell you.  Diego, you must rest.  We must think of some excuse that will get you out of this party."

"Darling that is impossible," he told her.  "Guests have already arrived.  Clementia will be here.  She will tell her tale of being kidnapped.  For all I know she saw what happened."  

"Oh, lord, I hope she did not say it to Vilaro!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Si, that would make things worse," Diego agreed.  Despite sitting for a while, he was starting to feel woozy again. He took a breath, but the lightheadedness was not letting him go.  "Darling...."

"What?"

"Perhaps you are right..." he leaned over slightly, trying to get more blood to his head.

"Oh, Diego," she said desperately.  She turned to look outside, but the party was carrying on without them, no one was looking.  Unfortunately, Bernardo was nowhere to be seen.   "The secret passage," she said.  "We can go up to our room here though the sala...."

"If I can stand up," he mumbled.  

"Just take a moment to breath," she said.  "I will snuff candles out so no one can see in."  She left him long enough to find the snuffer and put out the candles in the room.  When she came back he looked up. 

"Si, the back stairs are best," he said.  

With her help he stood up, and they made their way to the folding cabinet that opened into the secret passage.  Elizabeth opened it and they went through.  After closing it carefully they slowly climbed the flight of spiral stairs up into Zorro's secret room, and beyond it their bedroom.  Diego managed to keep conscious but his pain was overwhelming and the loss of blood was betraying him. He lay down in their bed and shut his eyes in relief.  

"You should take that jacket off," Elizabeth said, sitting down next to him. 

"No," he answered.  "You do not know what it took to put it on.  I do not want to go through that again."

She put her hand on his forehead.  "I do not feel a fever in you."  He could hear some relief in her voice.

"No fever," he answered.  "Just.... weakness."  He opened his eyes.  "I am sorry, Liz.  I think I have ruined your birthday."

"Oh, how can you say that?" she replied, again fighting her tears.  "You gave me a beautiful morning and a wonderful afternoon, and you are here alive tonight.  Diego, if that bullet had hit you four inches to your right, it would have been in your heart."  The tears spilled out of her eyes and onto his shirt.

He smiled.  "Don't cry, little kitten," he said to her gently.  With his right hand he reached up and wiped her tears away.  "Soon you will have a new scar to kiss."

"That is not funny," she sniffed, still looking down into his face.  "What am I to tell our guests?"

"That is a good question," he murmured.  Suddenly he felt an overwhelming need to go to sleep.  "Blame my usual indisposition," he suggested, feeling himself start to drift.

"I think I shall tell them I sent you back out into the night to find Blanca," she said.  She could see him slipping out of consciousness.  "Oh.... Diego...." She touched his face.  It was cool and pale. He did not seem to be in shock.  Just in exhausting pain. How much blood did you lose? she wondered miserably.  She got up and looked around a little wildly.  She did not want to leave him.  Someone had to be here to make sure he did not develop a fever.  Bernardo was her only choice.  I shall tell everyone I sent both of them out after Blanca, she thought.   She leaned back over him.  He was unconscious, but breathing evenly and with no effort.  "I will be back shortly," she said to him softly. She kissed his cheek, blinking back more tears.  Then she made herself go in search of Bernardo.

* * * * * *   

Clementia and Corporal Reyes arrived at the Rancho de la Vega half an hour after Rufino and Alejandro returned with their momentous news about El Zorro.  The Corporal helped Clementia dismount and stood slightly behind her as she rang the bell.  Mendocino opened the gate to let them in. 

"What an evening!" Clementia announced, fanning herself as she entered.  Reyes headed for the kitchen.

Everyone was seated around a long table eating the first course of the meal.  Diego was oddly absent.

"Doņa Clementia, welcome, we are glad you can join us," Alejandro said, rising and going to meet her as she made her entrance.  He saw Reyes and nodded at him to go in the direction of the kitchen.  The Corporal had no objection to this as it meant he might catch a glimpse of Maria.  He knew she was not in the courtyard because little Esperanza was on her mother's lap.

"I have had such an adventure!" Clementia went on, continuing to fan herself.  She glanced at her cousin and parents, and then focused on Alejandro.  "Do you know what has happened?"

Alejandro led her to her seat, between Don Carlos and her father.  "We know that the Natchez boys have escaped from jail, and Consuelo told us you rode out behind the lancers," he told her.

"And El Zorro was shot!" Rufino added standing up for emphasis.  Then he seemed to bite his lip and sit back down.

Clementia was instantly crestfallen.  She had been eager to be the bearer of this news, having witnessed it.  
"How do you know that?" she asked Rufino.

"We...uh...." the boy looked down.

Alejandro shook his head unhappily.  "Rufino and Bernardo and I encountered him on the San Gabriel Valley Road, he had what looked like a wounded arm," he explained.  Fortunately no one elaborated further.

Clementia looked at Elizabeth, wondering what her reaction to this turn of events might be.  She saw that her friend seemed preoccupied with Esperanza and was apparently unimpressed that her favorite bandito had been injured.  How strange, Clementia thought.  "Si, he was shot, I saw it myself!" she said, plopping down in her seat.  "In his left arm.  The lancers are still in the Valley chasing him."

"Still chasing him, eh?" Alejandro said, sitting back down to his meal. "Then I imagine he is not hurt all that badly."

"A bullet is a bullet," Clementia stated.  "Corporal Reyes thinks it might have been from his gun!"

Elizabeth's head rose up and she looked at Clementia, her eyes narrowing. "You say the Corporal shot El Zorro?" she asked.

Conchita appeared and placed a plate of food in front of the new arrival.  Clementia realized she was famished and started eating a bit inelegantly. "Si, that is what he thinks," she said with her mouth full. 

Her mother looked at her, horrified.  

Clementia shrugged, chewing.  "I am sure it was an accident."

"He took the gun, aimed it at Zorro, shot him, and it was an accident," Elizabeth repeated.

Clementia nodded.  She took another mouthful of food.   "Where is Diego?" she asked.  "It is your birthday!" She looked around for Conchita, swallowing.  "Ooooo, she is a good cook!"

"I have sent him off in search of my horse, she ran away," Elizabeth answered.  

"He was here, briefly," Carlos added.  "But then he left again."

"He took Bernardo," Rufino announced.  

"I never saw either one of them leave," Francisco Bocca snorted.  "They must have gone to the stable the back way."  He looked around.  "Wherever that is."

"Yes, that is what they did," Elizabeth confirmed.  She looked at her aunts, who were politely eating in the absence of understanding anything that was being said.  "We are talking about Diego and Bernardo going to look for Blanca," she explained to them in English.

"Ah," Bridget said, nodding.  "I hope they find her."

"I do not know why you had to send him out in the night," Lydia said.  

"I want my horse back," Elizabeth answered. 

"It is not right, for him to be out on this social occasion," Lydia countered. "You are his wife."

"It is my occasion and I am worried about the horse," Elizabeth replied.  "These people see him all the time.  They will not miss him this evening."

"We do not see him all the time, dear," Bridget pointed out.  "And we want to get to know him."

"There will be plenty of time for you to do that," Elizabeth smiled sweetly.  "He wants to get to know you, too.  But the horse...." she shrugged.  "She is about to drop a foal and we do not want her out loose."

"Diego does love his horses," Carlos agreed, joining in.  "And this one...." he glanced at Elizabeth.  "Blanca was a special gift to Elizabeth, when they were up in Monterey.  I can see why he is willing to give up his supper to find her.  You know of course that Sirocco was a gift from Diego as well.  The de la Vegas have the finest horses in Alta California."   He looked over at Alejandro and repeated his last sentence in Spanish.

Alejandro smiled at the ladies, flattered.  "It was my wife," he told them.  "She brought the truly fine horses into the family.  I have always felt cattle were a better investment."

Carlos translated for them.

"It is going to be a long evening," Don Francisco whispered to Doņa Leonara.

* * * * *  

One small candle was lit in the bedroom upstairs, where Diego lay, dozing fitfully, on the African bed.  Bernardo was in the room, keeping careful watch over his master. He had gone up after Elizabeth tracked found him in the library folding napkins with Mendocino.  She made much, in front of the other servant, of gesturing to Bernardo that he had to go with Diego to continue the search for Blanca.  This confused Bernardo greatly, but he followed her into the sala where she explained her real purpose in dragging him away from his duty.  

Now he waited, sitting in Diego's chair in front of the fireplace, in near-darkness.  After he arrived, Diego continued to insist, before he fell asleep, that he keep his jacket and shirt on.  "The wound has not re-opened," he said.  "If I must get up and go downstairs again, at least I will be ready to do so."

Bernardo did not argue.  He thought his master was going to faint when he dressed earlier.  The shirt had been painful, but it was getting his wounded arm into the jacket that had nearly done him in.  Now he was on his back on the covers of his and Elizabeth's bed, his eyes clothes, breathing normally.  It was the wrinkles across his forehead that told Bernardo he was battling pain, and the pale color of his skin that told the tale of his blood loss.  Bernardo felt confident that Diego would recover.  The gunshot he took in Spain had been considerably worse than this, for it shattered his master's collarbone near his shoulder.  He had taken months to recover.  Regaining his formidable fencing skills after that incident took even longer.  But he had never wavered in his progress.  Bernardo smiled to himself, recalling that Diego's incapacitation during that period was the reason he turned into an outstanding student at the University.  Unable to fence, he applied himself to his reading, writing, and student-tutor dialogues in the classics, world history, and languages.  By the time he could wield his sword again, his studies had gotten his interest.  He found a way thereafter to regain his status as a champion fencer without sacrificing his commitment to learning.  Bernardo smiled to himself, remembering those days.  

He looked across the room at his master, wishing they could take the jacket and the rest of his clothes off and put him under the covers for the night.  But it was still early enough that he believed Diego's instincts were right.  To have a houseful of people downstairs on Elizabeth's birthday meant that he might have to go back downstairs...in fact, it was likely.  As it had always been likely that sooner or later, El Zorro would be shot.  It was always Bernardo's greatest dread; greater, even, than his dread that Zorro would be captured.  Now it had happened.  Thank God it had not been a devastating hit; once again Diego's luck was with him when the bullet landed.

Bernardo's affection for his master could not have been less if Diego were his own son. He had known his master for a decade, since he was seventeen stepping eagerly off the ship from the new world.  Bernardo had met him at the dock, sent on this mission by Diego's uncle Esteban.  He was a household servant in Esteban's villa in Barcelona when the letter came from Alejandro, alerting his brother-in-law that his and Matilde's only son would arrive for studies in Madrid.  The letter had been expected.  Esteban, whose fortunes were on the rise at the time, sent his second manservant, the mute Bernardo, to meet his nephew.  

"You will stay with him in Madrid, Bernardo," he had instructed.  "He is from good family and he needs to have someone helping him adjust to life here.  Coming from California..." he shrugged.  "He will probably be a little backwards.  I say this with all respect to the memory of my dear dead sister.  But really...." he wrinkled his nose. "She never should have settled there.  It killed her."  He handed Bernardo an envelope with a handsome seal waxed onto the back.  "Give Diego this letter when you see him get off the ship.  Then he will know you are my messenger."

Bernardo had shrugged, wondering who to look for.

"Oh, you will recognize him, he will look just like my sister, which means he will look like me!  Tall, dark and handsome," Esteban laughed.

Bernardo still remembered how he had pointed in numerous directions, to indicate that such men were common in Spain, and probably common coming off ships from the New Spain.

"Ahhh, you will not find many who look like me who are also seventeen and wearing out of fashion suits!" Esteban pointed out.  He shooed at the mozo.  "Go, get your hair cut and prepare a trunk for yourself.  This letter says he will be here late next week.  Bring him here for a visit.  I want to meet him.  After a few days here you can accompany him to Madrid.  I will come eventually, to introduce him to the court."  He raised his eyebrows in anticipation.  "Perhaps the Queen will take a liking to my young nephew!"

So it was that Bernardo was standing on the docks when the Maria Cruz sailed into Barcelona harbor some ten days later. It was pouring rain.  Spying Diego proved to be no chore, for Don Esteban was right.  He wore, on his gangly frame, an out of fashion but beautifully embroidered brown suit, a peculiarly tipped brown hat, and indeed he looked exactly like the portraits of his mother that hung in Esteban's parlor.  He had no umbrella, however, so was utterly drenched by the time he had walked down the gangplank.

Bernardo approached him with a smile, held his large umbrella above both their heads, and offered the letter. 

Diego smiled back gratefully.  "Terrible rain!" he remarked.  He looked at the servant, who was clearly dressed as such, and then accepted the letter.  Seeing "Diego de la Vega" written in elegant black script on the front, he turned it over to see his uncle's seal.

"Ah, this...and you, and this umbrella, must be from my Uncle Esteban," he said.

Bernardo smiled and nodded, indicating Diego should open the letter.

The young man did so, and read the letter carefully.  Then he looked again at his new companion.  "So, you are Bernardo and you do not have words.  At least not on your lips!"

Bernardo nodded.

"Well, I shall talk enough for both of us," Diego told him.  "I have done nothing but talk all the way across the ocean.  Aside from playing chess, and enjoying the voyage on a clear day, there was nothing else to do!  Talk, talk, talk.  Now I do not know how to stop.  Perhaps you can cure me. I would like to know my own thoughts again without having to speak them out loud."

Bernardo smiled willingly.  He indicated that they proceed across the dock, both attempting to stay under the umbrella, until they reached a handsome coach.  The driver helped them into the covered seat.

"That is much better!" Diego said.  "Does it rain like this here all the time?"

Bernardo shook his head.  Then he nodded.  Then he shrugged.

"Well," Diego said. "I am not sure what you are telling me but perhaps you mean that the weather here is unpredictable."

Bernardo nodded.

"See, I am learning your language already!" Diego said triumphantly.  He looked out the window as the carriage proceeded through the streets.  "I see the streets are paved here.... at least some of them.  I do not like mud.  It rains in the winter in California and then we have a great deal of it.  Mud, I mean."

Bernardo nodded, smiling.  The boy's enthusiasm was innocent and charming.

"Have you been to California?" Diego asked.

Bernardo shook his head.

"Then you shall come with me, when I return," Diego said to him conspiratorially.  "I would rather have you than end up using one of the Indians as a manservant.  I do not really like what has happened in California with the Indians.  They are the native people there, but the priests have pulled them into working in the missions and turned them into slaves.  It is not right.  If my uncle can spare you to me in Madrid, you should be able to come back to California with me.  I will return after I finish my studies.  My father owns a vast rancho near the pueblo of Los Angeles.  We have many horses and a vast herd of cattle."

Bernardo nodded pleasantly.  He was not sure he wanted to cross the ocean, but he liked Diego.

Diego opened his mouth to continue, but then stopped himself.  He sat for a moment in silence, looking out into the rain.  Then he said, "I think I must be very tired, to talk on like this.  My father warned me not to brag.  Actually it was my mother who...." his voice drifted off.

Bernardo sat there for a while.  Having been in Don Esteban's household a long time, he knew that Matilde de la Vega had died six or seven years before.  It must have been devastating to her family.

Diego shuddered, and Bernardo took up a blanket from beneath their seats and wrapped it around his soaked jacket shoulders.  

"Gracias," Diego said to him.  "I shall have to stop talking and look out the window," he said.  "This is Spain, I have never seen it before but my father says it is in my blood as much as California.  Do you think that is possible?"

Bernardo shrugged, pointing at Diego to indicate that he would have to find that out for himself.  Diego smiled back, and they rode on in silence, looking out into the rain.

Bernardo shook his head, snapping himself back into the present.  Had he actually dozed off, he wondered?   He stood up and went over to check Diego's condition.  His master was still asleep. He looked more relaxed now and his color was somewhat better.  Bernardo allowed himself a small sigh of relief.  The crisis seemed past.  

* * * * * *  

In the courtyard, the supper continued with numerous courses and much chatter in English and Spanish.  Clementia's English was little better than Rufino's, resulting in occasional bursts of laughter from Elizabeth, her father and her aunts as Clementia attempted to make conversation. Rufino, whose limited English did not result in any effort not to speak it, added to the entertainment.  The Boccas, Alejandro and Consuelo were alternately given translations of Clementia's fractured efforts, and left to converse among themselves while all the English poured forth. 

They were on their third course when the heard horsemen arrive.  Alejandro went to the gate to find himself face to face with Lieutenant Vilaro, a cluster of lancers and Sergeant Garcia just behind him.  Garcia managed to give Clementia a small wave.

"Is Corrrrrporal Rrrrreyes still here?" he asked abruptly.

"Good evening, lieutenant," Alejandro said, ignoring the insult of no greeting.  "Si, I believe he is in the kitchen with the servants."

"Send him out here," Vilaro demanded. He stepped through the gate and everyone looked up to see him.

Alejandro waved at Mendocino, who was standing near the table, to fetch the Corporal.  

Vilaro looked around at everyone at the table.  "Where is your son?" he asked Alejandro.

"He is out somewhere on the range, looking for his wife's horse," Alejandro answered. 

"He was here earlier," Clementia volunteered.  "But then he left again."

Vilaro eyed Elizabeth, who was sitting still with her daughter on her lap. Esperanza was alternately fussing and dropping her head in sleepiness.  "You must be quite fond of that horse," he said to her.

"Si, I am," came the reply.  "Very. Diego gave her to me when we were newlyweds."

"Blanca is about to drop a foal," Alejandro said.  "That is why Diego felt he had to keep searching for her.  She got out of the paddock this afternoon."

"I never saw him leave," Don Francisco said.

Elizabeth looked at him sharply.

"Do you know," Vilaro said, "that El Zorrrrrrro has been shot?"

"Si, Doņa Clementia told us that," Alejandro answered.  "But I gather that he rode away....I do not see him in your custody."

"I believe his injury may prrrrrrovide an opportunity to find out who he rrrrrrrrreally is," Vilaro said threateningly.  

"Oh? How?" Clementia asked.

"What are they saying?" Aunt Bridget whispered to Don Carlos.

"He wants to find Zorro," Carlos whispered back.  "He thinks that the fact he has been shot will help."

"That makes sense," Lydia said.  "I think they should find him.  He should leave the law to the authorities rather than going off and taking things into his own hands."

"Oh, aunt!" Elizabeth hissed in English.  "You do not know the good deeds El Zorro has done!"

Bridget looked at Carlos a little helplessly.  "It's happening," she said softly to him, keeping her eyes on her food.

He nodded.  "At least we got almost 24 hours before it started," he whispered back.

She nodded agreement.

"I want all the men here to stand up!" Vilaro barked.  "And take your coats off!"

Everyone looked at one another, puzzled.

"Do it!" the commandante shouted.

Carlos and Francisco Bocca both stood up.  Alejandro was already on his feet.  He was none too happy, but he was removing his jacket.  Elizabeth stood up, hiking Esperanza up higher onto her shoulder.  The baby re-grasped her mother around the neck and fell asleep again.  

"Do you want to see my arm as well?" she asked Vilaro, completely disgusted.  "These men are pillars of our community.  You will not find Zorro at Rancho de la Vega!"

Vilaro ignored her, waving at Garcia to check the left arm of each of the three dons.  Embarrassed, Garcia proceeded.  

Elizabeth nodded for Maria to follow her, and proceeded upstairs to put Esperanza to bed.  Once they were in the baby's room, Elizabeth handed the baby to her.  "Put her down for me," she instructed.  "I have something I must do."

"Si, Doņa Elizabeth," Maria nodded, taking the sleeping child.  

Elizabeth left and went straight to her and Diego's room.  Entering silently, she saw Bernardo in Diego's chair, and Diego lying on the bed.  Bernardo started, hearing the door creak as she entered.  She put her finger to her lips and went to her husband.  She leaned over him.  His breathing was still even and unstrained.  She put her hand on his brow.  It was cool.

"Thank God," she said to herself softly. 

His eyes opened.  He blinked for a moment and then focused on her.  "Hello, darling," he said.  Then he grimaced, the pain in his arm tearing back into his consciousness.

"Diego, Vilaro is downstairs.  He is demanding to see the left arm of all the dons."

Diego groaned softly.  "I should have seen that coming," he said.  "He does not know my father and Bernardo helped me, helped Zorro, does he?"

"No, and unless Rufino opens his mouth I think they will not.  No one else will tell."  Then Elizabeth thought of something.  "Unless my awful aunt does!" she exclaimed.

"Your awful aunt?" Diego repeated, surprised.

"Aunt Lydia.  She is a stickler for rules and it appears she does not approve of Zorro."

"But surely she would not betray your own family!"

"I do not know what she might do, she has always been stiff as a board," Elizabeth said.  She sat down beside him.  "I think you and Bernardo should go down to Phantom's cave.  They will not find you here, in case they decide to search the house.  They think you are still out looking for Blanca and we need to keep it that way."  She sighed.  "Don Francisco keeps saying that he never saw you leave.  If he says it one more time I am going to put a plate of beans in his face."

Diego chuckled.  "El Zorro is lucky, to have such a champion," he said.  He tried to sit up, and did so only with effort and pain.   She tried to help him.  "Thank you..." he said.  He motioned for Bernardo to come near.  "I think she is right, going down to the cave is probably better than risking being found up here." He looked at his wife.  "It seems certain that he will find me within 24 hours, but every minute of letting this heal will help.  Once he does find me the trick will be to assure him so thoroughly that there is nothing wrong with me that he will not require me to take off the shirt.  If he does not see the wound, he will not know it is there."

Elizabeth nodded.  He leaned towards her with some effort and gave her a kiss on the cheek.  "It will be all right, darling.  And you will have the delight of sleeping in the straw tonight...of course I am assuming you will want to be down there with me?"

"Of course I will be down there with you," she answered.  "But not for a while, I shall have to make my excuses to everyone downstairs.  At least Esperanza is down for the night.  Bernardo, will you make a decent bed for us in the straw?" She returned her gaze to Diego.  "We will not have to spend the entire night down there, you know.  Once the lancers and all the guests are gone we can come back up to our room."

He laughed softly.  "But by then we may be so sound asleep we will not want to move."

"I will not be sound asleep in a pile of hay near the horse!"

He lifted his good hand and ran his finger down her cheek gently.  "You have slept down there before," he reminded her with a smile.

"I was not doing much sleeping," she smiled back, kissing his finger.  

Their eyes locked tenderly for a moment.  Then Elizabeth got up.  "I shall go kiss the baby and then go back...." she stopped, hearing heavy steps at the far end of the balcony.  She looked at both of them.  The steps were hurried and getting louder.

"Quickly!" Elizabeth said to Bernardo, shooing at him to get Diego out of the room.

Bernardo rushed to the bed and helped Diego get up, then hustled him through the door and into the secret room.  Elizabeth pushed the door shut as fast as she could and turned around just as the bedroom door burst open and Vilaro, followed by Sergeant Garcia and two lancers, strode in.

"Excuse me!" Elizabeth cried.  "Do you always barge in to a lady's bedroom!? And a married lady at that!?"

Vilaro looked around the room carefully.  He waved at the lancer with the lantern to hold it up and inspect every corner.  "Look underrrr the bed, too," he instructed.

"Explain yourself!" Elizabeth said indignantly.  The lancer got to his hands and knees and looked under the bed, but found nothing besides several pairs of Diego's boots and an item of Elizabeth's clothing that made his eyes widen.  He did not retrieve it, but instead got back up and shook his head at Vilaro. 

"I am making sure no one is up here hiding," Vilaro snarled.  His eyes fell on the bed.  Elizabeth looked at it, too.  The covers were rustled and pillows propped up as if someone had been lying on it. "What is this?  Who was here?"  He strode over and put his hands on it.  "It is still warm!"  He looked around again.

"I laid down myself for a few minutes," Elizabeth told him.  "I often come up here to rest and the servants keep the pillows propped up for me.  Not that it is any of your business!"

"You just came up herrrrre to put your daughterrrrr to bed," he said, still looking around.  His eyes traveled around the walls and stopped at the panel that led through to Zorro's secret room.

Elizabeth squared her shoulders and placed herself, her hands on her hips, between the commandante and the panel.  "No one is here except you, and me, and them," she stated, nodding at the lancers.  "You are on private property and I resent your invasion of my and my husband's bedroom!  Have you no respect at all, sir?!  Do you really believe that Diego could be up here, when we have told you he is looking for my horse, or more ridiculously, that Diego could be Zorro?  Do you think I would conspire with him to be an outlaw??  Can you imagine that I would tolerate that, when we have a year old baby in the next room?  Do you think I would be in a dinner party on my patio if my beloved husband had a bullet in his arm?  Do you think that? Are you mad? Do you lack any sense of who the de la Vegas are?" Her nose was literally in his face, her eyes blazing.

Vilaro stepped back, overwhelmed.  Women always unsettled him. This one was formidable.  He had never faced off with her before and found himself clutching inside.    "Seņora, I can see that your husband is not herrrre," he answered.  He squared his heels and gave her a short bow.  "When I see him I will have to look at his arm, for I am doing that with everyone else.  Since you have assured me he is not Zorro, I am sure he will have no problem cooperating."  With that he turned around and walked out the door.  The lancers followed.  

Sergeant Garcia had been in the doorway to witness the entire scene.  He waited until Vilaro was well beyond earshot, going down the stairs, and then said, "Doņa Elizabeth, if I did not know better I would say you are related to my Clementia."  He then smiled meekly, waved his fingers, and left the room.

Elizabeth let herself fall back against the wall, taking a long, deep breath.  Then, through a crack in the panel, she heard a familiar voice whisper, "Well done, darling!"