"'Tis not much of a journey—four miles," said the captain.
"Possibly not for a rough soldier," Don Diego replied, "but it is for a caballero."
"May not a soldier be a caballero?" Ramón asked, nettled somewhat at the other's words.
"It has happened before now, but we come across it rarely," Don Diego said. He glanced at Lolita as he spoke, intending that she should take notice of his words, for he had seen the manner in which the captain glanced at her, and jealousy was beginning to burn in his heart.
"Do you mean to insinuate, señor, that I am not of good blood?" Captain Ramón asked.
"I cannot reply as to that, señor, having seen none of it. No doubt this Señor Zorro could tell me. He saw the color of it, I understand."
"By the saints!" Captain Ramón cried, "you would taunt me?"
"Never be taunted by the truth," Don Diego observed. "He ran you through the shoulder, eh? 'Tis a mere scratch, I doubt not. Should you not be at the presidio instructing your soldiers?"
"I await their return here," the captain replied. "Also, it is a fatiguing journey from here to the presidio, according to your own ideas, señor."
"But a soldier is inured to hardship, señor."