Barbados was waiting. He leered at the girl, then called one of his men to his side, and commanded that he unfasten and open the door. Señor Zorro, his wrists still lashed behind his back, was pacing around the room. From the room adjoining came the voices of the caballeros.
“Señor Zorro, here is a pretty wench who has some words for your ears,” Barbados called. “She is not so pretty as she was, having dirtied herself in an attempt to escape, but possibly she will serve. I give you a few minutes in which to hold speech. Do not abuse the privilege.”
“Whatever you may do in the future, I thank you for this, Señor Pirate!” Zorro said.
Barbados laughed and withdrew, and closed the door behind him. The señorita stepped forward slowly, her hands held at her breast, a look of anguish in her sweet face. Señor Zorro was smiling down at her.
“The saints are good, señorita!” he whispered. “That I may see you again—”
“Diego, my beloved, it is a sad errand!” she interrupted. “Yet I had to come.”
His face was grave for an instant, and then he smiled at her once more.
“So they have sent you to tell me that I must die?” he asked. “I could not receive a warrant of death from sweeter hands. My one regret is that I have failed in your rescue. I do not fear the coming of death. It will be only another adventure. It is for you that I fear.”
“Fear not for me!” she said. “Nor fear the coming of death, either. It is not a warrant of death that I bring you, Diego. I have come to tell you that you are to go free.”
“Free?” Señor Zorro gasped. “Have pirates turned kind? Has old Fray Felipe demonstrated to them the error of their ways? Is the devil going to mass these days? Señorita, you are trying to make the sentence lighter by saying it in a kind manner. Speak out! Don Diego Vega is not afraid to learn the truth, and most certainly Señor Zorro is not.”