Another touch—and her cheeks flamed scarlet. The señorita had had her hands kissed before, and she knew a kiss when she felt it.
She turned her head slowly, leaning outward, and glanced down. And her heart almost stood still.
For Señor Zorro was there, his face showing just at the surface of the water! Don Diego, her husband-to-be, was there, swimming alongside, smiling up at her, within a few feet of the pirates who bent their backs and rowed and never thought to look down.
Fear clutched at the señorita’s heart for an instant—fear for him—yet admiration for his daring, too. Her blood seemed suddenly hot instead of cold. The touch of his lips had been enough to do that.
He dared not speak, of course, though the pirates were shouting and singing. But his lips moved and formed voiceless words, and the señorita understood.
“Courage! I’ll be near!” he mouthed.
She nodded her head slightly in token that she understood. And Don Diego Vega smiled yet again and sank slowly out of sight beneath the waves.
The boats were almost to the vessel now. The bright moon shipped a last ray across the tumbling sea and sank to rest. On the deck of the pirate craft torches flared suddenly to guide the boats.
They reached the side. Rough hands lifted the señorita and forced her to the deck above. Swearing, sweating men commenced handing up the loot. Barbados howled his commands and curses, Sanchez echoing them. To one side the señorita was held by the two men who had guarded her on the shore, awaiting disposition by the pirate chief.
“With speed, dogs!” Barbados shrieked. “We must be away before the dawn!”