But they refused to leave their posts, as Señor Zorro had hoped they would do. Instead, they shrieked the news at Barbados, who was not far away, and he ran toward the adobe building followed by Sanchez and half a dozen of the men. They unbarred the door and burst in upon Señor Zorro, who stood back against the wall gazing at the door of the adjoining room, as though trying to decide what was taking place inside. From the other side of that door came shrieks and cries and the sounds of blows.
“Fiends of hell!” Barbados swore. “They will slay one another, and then there will be neither torture nor ransom! Unfasten that door and stand ready to drive them back if they try to make an escape. And two of you guard that outside door also!”
One glance he flung at Señor Zorro, to find him standing against the wall as if his attention were concentrated on the other room. But as Barbados turned toward the door again Señor Zorro shifted along the wall for a distance of a few feet, and glanced toward the door through which he would have to go to freedom.
He waited until the other door was about to be thrown open, until the pirates in the room had their attention centered there, and then Señor Zorro dropped the severed cords from his wrists, wriggled his fingers for an instant to restore the circulation of blood, and suddenly brought his hands around in front of him and tore the dagger from his sash, where the little señorita had put it.
Forward he hurled himself, just as the other door was opened. He took the two men before him by surprise. One he hurled aside; the other he was forced to wound slightly to get him out of the way. Past them he dashed, even as they shrieked the intelligence that he was escaping. Out into the open he darted and straight toward the horse that Sanchez had ridden into the clearing. He would have no difficulty in getting to the horse, he saw. But his escape was all that he could negotiate. A glance told him that the señorita was not in sight, and he had no time to search the entire camp for her.
The pirates were rushing toward him from every side, attracted by the tumult. Barbados, behind him, was shrieking commands and foul oaths. The dagger held between his teeth, Señor Zorro dodged the two men before the hut and vaulted into the saddle, kicked at the animal’s flanks, and was away.
Behind him a pistol barked, but the ball flew wild, and he could hear the insane roar of rage that Barbados gave because he had missed the target. It was a flying target now. Señor Zorro bent low over the horse’s neck and kicked frantically at the animal’s flanks again. Straight across the clearing he guided the animal, toward the trail that ran to the crest of the slope.
Another pistol roared behind him, but he did not even hear the shrill whistling of the flying ball. He wished that he might make a search for the señorita, but he was afraid that capture might result if he tried it. And were he captured again Barbados would make short work of him. It were better to get away free and return later to rescue.
He was approaching the edge of the camp now. He knew that there were some mounts with saddles and bridles on, and that there might be a pursuit. Once over the crest, he would have a chance. The pirates would not dare follow him too close to San Diego de Alcála, and that was only eight miles away.