“Payment shall be made!” Don Diego said.
His blade darted up and forward, and Barbados gave a little cry of pain and fear and recoiled. On his forehead, it seemed, was a streak of fire. Again the sword of Zorro darted forth, and there was a second streak of fire, and yet a third time. And then Don Diego Vega took a step backward and bowed mockingly.
“You wear my brand,” he said. “It is an honor.”
Terror had claimed Barbados for the moment. Now he slipped a short distance along the wall, while Diego followed him, and suddenly he shrieked his commands and darted toward the door. Into the plaza tumbled the pirates, with the caballeros at their heels.
Barbados shrieked more commands, and the pirates ran with what speed they had. Those left behind in the plaza gathered the horses they needed and the loot, and those coming from the casa of Don Diego rushed toward the horses now. For the greater part, those horses were fine-blooded stock and belonged to Don Diego’s guests, mounts used to traveling at a rapid rate of speed between some hacienda and the town.
Barbados urged his men to haste. Only compact loot could be carried. They sprang to the backs of the horses and dashed away. The caballeros pursued on foot until the plaza had been crossed. And then they stopped and gathered around Don Diego.
“There can be no pursuit,” Diego said. “They have made away with your horses, my friends, the soldiers are not here, and the only mounts remaining in town are not fit for caballeros to ride.”
“Yet they must be pursued,” said a voice at his side.
Don Diego whirled to find ancient Fray Felipe standing there.
“They have stolen the sacred goblet,” Fray Felipe said in a calm voice. “I have taken a vow to regain it.”