The consultation ended, and Señor Zorro darted back from the window. Almost immediately, the attack upon the door began. They were pounding at it with heavy timbers, trying to smash it down. Señor Zorro, standing in the middle of the room, pointed his pistol at the door and fired, and as the ball tore through the wood and somebody outside gave a shriek of pain, he darted to the table and started loading the pistol again.
Then he hurried across to the door, and observed the hole where the bullet had gone through. The plank had been split, and there was quite a crack in it. Señor Zorro put the point of his blade at this crack, and waited.
Again the heavy timber crashed against the door, and some trooper threw his weight against it, also. Señor Zorro's blade darted through the crack like a streak of lightning, and came back red, and again there was a shriek outside. And now a volley of pistol balls came through the door, but Señor Zorro, laughing, had sprung back out of harm's way.
"Well done, señor!" Señorita Lolita cried.
"We shall stamp our mark on several of these hounds before we are done!" he replied.
"I would that I could aid you, señor."
"You are doing it, señorita. It is your love that gives me my strength."
"If I could use a blade—"
"Ah, señorita, that is for a man to do. Do you pray that all may be well!"
"And at the last, señor, if it is seen that there is no hope—may I then see your dear face?"