"My horse is stumbling!" she cried.
Señor Zorro saw that it was so. He knew that the beast could not make another hundred yards.
"To the tavern!" he cried.
They galloped straight across the plaza. At the door of the tavern the señorita's horse staggered and fell. Señor Zorro caught the girl in his arms in time to save her from a hard fall, and, still carrying her, darted through the tavern door.
"Out!" he cried to the landlord and the native servant. "Out!" he shrieked to half a dozen loiterers, exhibiting his pistol. They rushed through the door and into the plaza.
The highwayman threw the door shut and bolted it. He saw that every window was closed except the one that fronted on the plaza, and that the board and skin coverings were in place. He stepped to the table and then whirled to face the señorita.
"It may be the end," he said.
"Señor! Surely the saints will be kind to us!"
"We are beset by foes, señorita. I care not, so that I die fighting as a caballero should. But you, señorita—"
"They shall never put me in the foul carcel again, señor! I swear it! Rather would I die with you!"