“You will not fail to profit by it,” Don Audre Ruiz told him.
“I am not doing it with the expectation of profit,” the captain declared. “I detest thieves, and I admire honest men! I have many friends in Reina de Los Angeles, some of whom probably have suffered at the hands of these pirates. And, above all, I did admire the exploits of this Señor Zorro, as Don Diego was called. It will be a pleasure, señores, to aid you in this.”
He called to his men, and they signaled to the ship with their torches. Out of the darkness and across the tumbling sea came more boats from the schooner. The caballeros turned their horses adrift, knowing that they would be picked up and returned, made certain that they had daggers and swords handy, and got quickly into the boats and put out to the ship.
Sergeant Gonzales and Fray Felipe, by accident, were placed in the same craft, sitting side by side on one of the wide thwarts. Sergeant Gonzales observed the fray carefully from the corners of his eyes. The sergeant wished to talk, having kept silent for some minutes, and the fray was the nearest man he knew.
“Never did I think to join hands with you in an enterprise, fray!” the sergeant said, puffing out his cheeks. “If I am not badly mistaken, you are the gowned one who stopped me in the plaza on a certain occasion, and made remarks about soldiers drinking too much wine at the posada. Ha! But pirates’ raids cause rescue parties, and rescue parties cause strange comrades!”
“I am appreciating the fact,” Fray Felipe replied quietly and with a smile.
“So they stole your sacred goblet, did they?” Sergeant Gonzales said smoothly. “Fray, when I have rescued the señorita, aided Don Diego to escape, and annihilated the pirates with my blade, then will I regain your goblet for you! Steal church goblets and brides, eh? Ha! Meal mush and goat’s milk!”
“If your sword arm is half as strong as your tongue, señor,” Fray Felipe rebuked him gently, “then the pirates are as good as dead already!”
Sergeant Gonzales whirled upon him.
“Ha! Stinging words from a gentle fray!” he gasped. “Is it possible for me to get insulted where and when I can wipe out the insult with a thrust? A caballero insults me and then refuses to fight because of the noble blood in his veins and the poor swill in mine! A fray insults me—and I cannot fight a man who wears a gown! Meal mush and goat’s milk! But wait until we meet up with these pirates! Let a pirate but insult me, and—ha! My blade shall be bathed in blood!”