"Christmas Rose" Part Two

December 16, 1820
To the Good People of California:
Padre Felipe Mateo d’ Angelos, beloved rector of the San Gabriel Mission and selfless shepherd to the faithful, stands accused of both treason and conduct unbecoming a priest. I bear witness to the padre’s upstanding character and maintain that these charges must be false. Not only will this mockery of trial cloud the festivities of Las Posadas but the fabricated charges are of such a vile nature that a guilty verdict virtually will assure the padre’s execution on or before Los Santos Innocentes.

The evidence to be presented by the prosecution concentrates on a particular incident which occurred along El Camino Rial. The padre maintains that an unknown señorita dressed in red witnessed this incident and can clear his good name. I beg you, Señorita, wherever you are, please present yourself to the authorities before Noche Buena. If you will come forward to exonerate this gentle soul, I pledge to you my steadfast protection and my eternal devotion.

Signed,
ZORRO

***********************************

Copies of the poster had suddenly appeared everywhere in the district. It was with some sense of awe that people approached and read them. These posters were found upon every church door, every well, every roadside shrine in the district. They were posted on the trees at every major crossroad and upon the door of every tavern and Inn for miles around. Even the gates of the cuartel in Los Angeles sported their very own copy of the poster. The mystery was that these posters had appeared overnight. When the people awoke and went out to begin their day in the first light of the dawn, the posters where there. No matter where they turned, the posters greeted them. The author of these posters was generally looked upon as somewhat more than merely human and this only served to confirm that view. The district of Los Angeles was a large one, and to cover it so thoroughly with such posters in one night was truly the work of only one man, El Zorro.

They would have been surprised to know that it was the work of two men, both dressed as Zorro. Diego and Bernardo had spent the rest of the day preparing the posters and as soon as it was dark, they set off in different directions, dressed identically in black, tacking up the posters everywhere they could think to do so. The señorita in the red dress was the Padre’s only hope and this was the best way they could think of to find her quickly. Hopefully, she would see the message on the poster and come to the Padre’s aid. Zorro himself rode to the little shrine and looked around for a clue. But there were many who came and prayed there and the tracks were all mixed up. A bit discouraged, he continued on, tacking up his posters until he was almost to the mission of Santa Barbara before turning back. He had one last poster to tack up. He had saved it until last. He returned to Los Angeles and sent Tornado flying down the street in front of the cuartel, pausing only long enough to plunge a knife into the wood to hold the poster and then they were off again into the graying dawn. The sleepy soldiers only had time to pick up their rifles and blearily try to aim them before Zorro was out of sight. They congregated at the gate to read the poster together.

Bernardo had already returned to the cave by the time Zorro arrived. He helped Zorro to bed down and feed Tornado. “Well, Bernardo,” said Zorro. “We will have to see what results our night’s work will bring. I don’t know about you, but I am tired and I know that Tornado is also.”

Slapping Bernardo on the back he said, “Come, my friend. Let us get some sleep.” He pointed for the servant to lead the way up the tunnel. Wearily, Diego changed into his night clothes and lay down on his bed.

His last thought was to wonder about the mysterious señorita and the “Z” she seemed to favor before he fell fast asleep.

Fortunately, Diego’s father was away from the hacienda all morning. The servants were well aware by now of the young master’s habits and thought nothing of him coming down to breakfast very late in the morning. Bernardo brought the food and drink out to the patio where Diego was seated at the small table there. Looking about to see that no one was watching, Bernardo mimed sleeping and waking with eyes only barely opened. Diego said, “Si, there is never enough time for sleep when Zorro rides. But I want to go to the pueblo and check on Padre Felipe, to make sure that he is still all right. And I want to begin searching for the señorita of the red dress.”

Bernardo made the sign of the “Z”.

“No,” said Diego. “I think Diego can search for her just as well. We will start at the little shrine and search from there. Padre Felipe did not mention seeing a horse, so she must live in the area by the shrine. Go and saddle our horses while I finish eating and we will be off.”

Padre Felipe’s condition had not changed. He was still heavily guarded. Capitán Monastario had allowed Diego to visit once again, but he glared at the two of them from the steps of his office, hand on his sword. Not wishing to cause the padre any trouble, Diego left after only a short visit, staying only long enough to let the padre know that he was searching for the señorita.

Diego and Bernardo stopped at every dwelling that they passed asking about the señorita in red, but no one could help them. A great many of them had seen the posters and had talked among themselves wondering who she was, but no one knew. The two men returned home as night fell, determined to go out again the next day and the next, until the woman was found. As they passed through the pueblo of Los Angeles, they saw the procession for the first night of Las Posadas. The people were carrying on the tradition even though the mood was subdued.

The children had momentarily forgotten their sadness over the imprisonment of Padre Felipe in the re-enactment of the night Mary and Joseph looked for a place of rest. Diego hoped that they would enjoy the festivities later in the night. If only Padre Felipe could be there with them. Sighing, he turned toward home.

Each day was discouraging it its similarity. Diego and Bernardo had covered almost the whole district without finding any trace of their señorita. Padre Felipe’s trial was scheduled for nine o’clock the next morning. A judge, Francisco Alamares, had been brought up from San Diego for the trial. No one knew anything about him, but he had been seen drinking wine with the Commandanté in the tavern. Tio said that they seemed quite friendly and he had served them more than one bottle of wine. Diego’s meager hopes for a fair trial faded with this news. He was sure that Monastario had contrived to insinuate himself into the good graces of this judge and would hold the upper hand with his accusation against Padre Felipe. Finding the señorita became even more imperative.

Diego and Bernardo were both weary. He was beginning to think that the señorita was of supernatural origins because she had seemed to vanish into thin air. The only physical proof of her existence was the embroidered pouch and money now in Capitán Monastario’s possession. It was with a heavy heart that he and Bernardo returned to the de la Vega hacienda that afternoon.

In the soft light of the setting sun, Diego was leaning back in his chair on the patio nursing a glass of wine and looking into its ruby depths. The color of the wine was reminding him again of the color of the señorita’s dress. He was lost in thought when he became aware of the rumble of a cart just outside the gate to the patio.

Setting the wine glass down, he went to see who was there. It was a drayage cart from San Pedro. A man of about sixty years old was driving and he was accompanied by a young boy. Diego recognized the driver.

“Buenas Tardes, Señor Bastinado,” he said in greeting. “What have you brought us today?”

“Oh, Buenas Tardes, Don Diego. Your father has ordered more of the special wine barrels from Jose Espinoza in Monterey,” said Bastinado smiling down from his seat on the cart. “That is what we bring to you.”

“And who is this with you?” asked Diego smiling at the young boy who peeked around from the other side of Señor Bastinado.

“This is my grandson, Pogo, Don Diego. He has been going with me on my deliveries.” Señor Bastinado hugged the boy to him. “He is very good company for an old man and he helps me with the horses.” Pogo grinned happily at the comments and looked up fondly at his grandfather.

“Is your father at home, Don Diego?” asked Señor Bastinado.

“No, I am afraid he is not,” said Diego. “He and some of the other dons have gone to the pueblo. If you want to unload the barrels, go around to the back of the hacienda. I will show you where to put them.”

“Graciás, Don Diego,” said Señor Bastinado. He drove the wagon on around the hacienda.

Part Three
Table of Contents