"This Señor Zorro has about had his run," the captain said, after the wine had been tasted and found excellent. "Now and then a man of his sort pops up and endures for a little day, but he never lasts long. In the end he meets the fate."
"That is true," said Don Carlos. "The fellow was boasting to us to-night of his accomplishments."
"I was comandante at Santa Barbara when he made his famous visit there," the captain explained. "I was visiting at one of the houses at the time else there might have been a different story. And to-night, when the alarm came, I was not at the presidio, but at the residence of a friend. That is why I did not ride out with the soldiers. As soon as I was notified I came. It appears that this Señor Zorro has some knowledge of my whereabouts and is careful that I am not in a position to clash with him. I hope one day to do so."
"You think you could conquer him, señor?" Doña Catalina asked.
"Undoubtedly! I understand he really is an ordinary hand with a blade. He made a fool of my sergeant, but that is a different proposition—and I believe he held a pistol in one hand while he fenced, too. I should make short work of the fellow."
There was a closet in one corner of the room, and now its door was opened a crack.
"The fellow should die the death!" Captain Ramón went on to say. "He is brutal in his dealings with men. He kills wantonly, I have heard. They say he caused a reign of terror in the north, in the vicinity of San Francisco de Asis. He slew men regardless, insulted women—"
The closet door was hurled open—and Señor Zorro stepped into the room.
"I shall take you to task for that statement, señor, since it is a falsehood!" the highwayman cried.