Chapter Eleven
Bernardo was growing bored. He had his leg crooked over the saddle of his horse and was leaned forward on his arm. He yawned and almost fell off his horse when it decided to shift under him. Regaining his balance he looked down the road and saw the señora’s carriage coming along the road at a good clip. They had been right. He wheeled his horse and rode quickly to the hacienda. He found Diego in his room. He had changed clothes and there were two bags packed.
“She is coming?” asked Diego. Bernardo nodded yes.
“How close is she?” Bernardo signaled fifteen. “Fifteen minutes? Good. Then let us go. Father is down in the sala and I will let him know that we are going while you go and get my horse. We will leave immediately.” Bernardo picked up the bags and they went down the stairs.
Diego entered the house. His father was seated by the fire place reading. “Father. I just wanted to let you know that I am going to Padre Benedetto’s again. He has asked for a rematch. He thinks he has a new strategy that he would like to try.”
“I wish him good fortune,” said Don Alejandro. “I have better luck against you in a game of drafts.”
“Yes, you beat me only last night as I recall. Oh, by the way, we will be staying overnight again. You know how Padre Benedetto is. But this time, we are taking our bags with us. Until tomorrow, Father,” said Diego as he waved at his father and went out the door. Soon he and Bernardo were down the road and out of sight of the hacienda. They circled around and came into the secret cave.
Leaving their horses in the company of Tornado, they made their way up the tunnel and into the secret passages. By the time they made it to the wall behind the sala, Señora Helena was being announced. Don Alejandro was surprised, but handled it smoothly as a gentleman should.
“Señora Del Fuego. How delightful to see you again. Please have a seat. Jose, bring some wine.” He made sure the señora was comfortable. “Now, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
“It was such a pleasant afternoon that I decided to go for a drive out in the country and I remembered how much I enjoyed the trip to your hacienda and decided to come this way. When I saw your place I could not pass by without paying my respects. You were such a delightful host the other night. And I have not had the pleasure to seeing you at the pueblo since then. Nor have I had the opportunity to meet your son, Don Diego. Is he here by chance?” She mentally held her breath.
“I am sorry, but no,” said Don Alejandro. “He left about fifteen minutes ago to return to Padre Benedetto’s for a rematch in chess. He plans to be gone until tomorrow.” Señora Helena tried to keep her face a study in calmness, but she was seething inside. Gone again! There was something going on here that she did not like. But, . . . he left so long ago. He could not possibly have known she was coming, so was it coincidence once again?
Seeing the look on Señora Helena’s face, Don Alejandro tried to excuse his son, “My apologies, Señora Del Fuego. My son is a little . . . eccentric and prone to do impulsive things. I am sure he will be very sorry to find that he missed the opportunity to make your acquaintance.”
“That is quite all right, Don Alejandro,” she said regaining control. “Perhaps we will meet at another time.” She would find some way to make sure of that.
Don Alejandro changed the subject by saying, “My work here at the rancho keeps me quite busy, I’m afraid, and I do not get to socialize as much as I would like. Finding time to go to Los Angeles is difficult, especially at this time of the year. There are so many details to attend to and I have to be available to take care of them.”
“Does your son, Diego, not help you with the rancho?” At Don Alejandro’s look of chagrin, Señora Helena said, “Forgive me. I did not mean to bring up a delicate subject.”
“No offense taken, Señora Del Fuego. It is just that my son has not taken an interest in the affairs of the rancho. Since his return from Spain, he has been more interested in his poetry and music. He is just not the same son that I sent off to get an education. This,” and he made a sweeping gesture, “ is his inheritance. I and my father and his father have worked hard to make it what it is today. I keep hoping that someday his bloodline will tell and Diego will mature enough to take up his responsibilities here.”
He said this with such an air of melancholy that Señora Helena, to her surprise, felt her heart go out to him.
Behind the wall, Diego found that he was swallowing hard against his own emotions. “Oh, my Father,” he thought. “If I could only tell you . . .”
Señora Helena leaned forward and spoke gently to the elder don. “At least, you have a son to pin your hopes and dreams upon, Don Alejandro. Be thankful for that.” To her own surprise, she continued, “I lost my son when he was just a youth, and I never got to see him mature into manhood. Do not lose faith in your son while he yet lives.”
Don Alejandro looked at Señora Del Fuego intently. He knew what it was to lose a wife. But this woman had lost both a husband and a son, leaving her alone in the world. She was right, he still had his son, and nothing was more important than that. “Señora, your insight is most welcome. I needed to hear that. It is just that it is sometimes hard to accept Diego for what he is and not try to mold him into something he is not.”
Señora Helena laughed softly to herself. When Don Alejandro looked at her like she had lost her mind, she said, “What you just said reminded me of what my husband once said of our son, Alberto. He said that Alberto’s heart was too big to be put in a mold of our own making.” She paused after that and seemed to be lost in thought.
“Señora, if it is not an imposition, would you tell me of your son?” asked Don Alejandro. Somehow he sensed that she needed to be able to talk about him to someone.
Señora Helena’s smile died away. How dare he ask such a personal question? But then she realized that he was sincere in his request. This was not Mexico City, and Don Alejandro was not seeking out her weaknesses in order to gain an advantage. He was giving her the opportunity to talk about her son, but only if she wanted to. And she found that she did want to.
“Alberto was only seventeen when he died,” she began. But even at that young age he already had a maturity about him beyond his years. He was the natural leader among his peers, but he never took advantage of them. He had a sweet, honest spirit and an inner strength that gave him confidence and poise. One minute he could be racing his horse with the exuberance of youth, and next, you could introduce him to the commandanté in charge of the military for all Mexico and he would greet him with all the proper deference and respect. Alberto excelled in his studies and had the makings of a good swordsman. He was very athletic.”
She smiled again as she continued, “He was mischievous and enjoyed playing pranks, though. Sometimes even on his own father, but he was careful not to be meanspirited. Most boys his age were self centered as they were coming into their manhood, but not Alberto. He had a strong sense of personal honor and was ready to defend himself and anyone else that he thought had been harmed or defamed in any way. He was always looking out for others. Many is the time he came to me to ask for my help when he had found someone in need, no matter what their station in life, when it was more than he could handle alone. You will excuse me if I speak with a mother’s heart, but I took great pride in the compassionate soul of my son. I was proud of him for thinking of others before himself. I do not know about you, Don Alejandro, but I think as parents, we all search our children to see if some part of ourselves shows through. I like to think that I saw myself in my son. I believe I can say that no one met my son without being changed for the better.”
Señora Helena pulled out her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. This time it was not a sham, this time it was real. “But the one thing that means the most to me was that even as I loved him, he loved me and was not afraid to show it even in front of his friends who thought that they were beyond such childish things. That means a great deal to a mother.” Then she broke down. She could not help it.
“Oh, Don Alejandro, I miss my son!” she sobbed. “I would give anything to have him back.” She cried into her handkerchief.
Don Alejandro found his throat constricted. He went over to her and put his hands on her shoulders until she nodded her head that she would be all right. He cleared his throat gently. “Señora Del Fuego, we never stop missing our loved ones who have passed on. Nor should we. I lost my wife whom I loved dearly many years ago, but I miss her just as much today as ever. You and your son shared something very special. Your story has touched me deeply. It seems that our sons were a great deal alike as boys. My son Diego had those same qualities of inner strength, honor and compassion. His mother, bless her soul, gave that to him. I know that somewhere, down deep inside, he still has those qualities. I only hope that someday he will realize that for himself and become the man I know he can be.”
Behind the wall, in the secret passage, Bernardo put his hand on Diego’s shoulder. He knew how hard it was for his young master to hear his father speak so.
Don Alejandro continued, “I do wish that I could have had the honor to meet Alberto.”
“As I would like to have the honor to meet your son, Diego,” said Señora Helena regaining her composure. “Please let him know how much I regret not being able to meet the son of Don Alejandro de la Vega.” She sniffed a little and finished dabbing at her eyes.
“ Please, Señor, I must go.” She put her hand on Don Alejandro’s arm. “Do not tell anyone of this conversation.” Don Alejandro nodded. She continued, as she rose from her seat, “I do not know what came over me to let my emotions get the better of me like that. I have imposed on you long enough. Thank you for your hospitality, Don Alejandro.”
Don Alejandro escorted Señora Helena out to her carriage. Diego closed the peep hole in the wall and turned to Bernardo.
“The señora, for all her other attributes, has one redeeming characteristic.”
As Bernardo looked questioningly, Diego continued, “She has a mother’s love for her son.” Bernardo nodded in agreement. He too had found his eyes blurring with tears while she and Don Alejandro spoke. He signed that he thought that Señora Helena had, in describing her son, described a lot of the characteristics of Diego himself.
Diego looked at Bernardo for a moment. At first he was going to deny it, but then he had another thought. “All right. But was the señora’s emotion genuine? Are we sure she is not just playing on my father’s own emotions for some reason of her own?” Bernardo seemed to think it over. Then he indicated that he thought she was telling the truth.
“I think so too, Bernardo. I just wanted to see if you had the same reaction. Let us go back to the cave. I have some thinking to do.”
As they walked through the tunnel, Diego thought about Señora Helena. From his own encounter with her as Zorro, he knew that she could be hard and calculating. But today he had seen the softer side of her. She had a mother’s love and pride in her son. Pride. That was the key. Not the pride that she had in her son, but the pride her son would have had in her. On this point would turn the whole fate of Zorro. If he could not get Señora Del Fuego to return to Mexico City, then Zorro’s time on this earth was short, for she would not give up until she got what she wanted: Zorro’s identity. He could not be effective in searching out the leaders of the eagle feather conspiracy as long as he was looking over his shoulder for her. At the very least, she could cause him to make a fatal mistake which would get him killed, or she would discover his identity and get him hanged.
He could not bring himself to even think of threatening her or harming her in any way in order to send her back to Mexico City as he would have done for a man. With a man, many things could be settled at the point of a sword. But with a woman . . . no. He shook his head. He was too much his father’s son for that. He was going to bring things to a head tonight with an appeal to her heart. It was the only thing he could do.
His mind made up, he went up to the secret room behind his bedroom where he kept pen and paper. Under the light of the lantern he wrote a note to Señora Helena and signed it Zorro. He went back down and met Bernardo.
“My friend, I must ask you to do something. Take this note and see that Señora Del Fuego gets it, but do not let her see you deliver it. She must not know that you are involved or she will have the last piece of the puzzle that will convince her that I am Zorro. Then come back here to the cave. We are supposed to be at Padre Benedetto’s, remember?”
Bernardo looked a question. Diego put his hand on Bernardo’s shoulder.
“Tonight will decide Zorro’s fate, Bernardo. I think I have found a way to the Señora’s heart, but I cannot be absolutely sure. All I know is things cannot go on as they are. I must convince her to return to Mexico City. If she does not, it will be just a matter of time before she finally meets me as Diego and I have no doubt that she will recognize me. She got a very good look at Zorro in the old winery and I saw her studying him very closely. She saw the details that others miss when Zorro appears.”
Bernardo looked worried and frightened for the life of his master. Diego’s heart was full too. “Yes, Bernardo, I understand,” he said quietly. Sometimes words were not necessary.
The sun was setting by the time Bernardo reached the pueblo. He tied his horse out of sight behind the church and made his way stealthily towards the plaza. Diego was entrusting him to deliver the message from Zorro without getting caught. He peered around the corner and saw Bonita and Contessa walking towards Señora Helena’s house. They were talking and laughing together and carrying a large basket of fruit between them.
As they passed by him, he stepped out and quietly fell in behind them. Quickly, he dropped the note in the basket and then ducked away back out of sight. He watched as the two women went into the house, then he went to look into the kitchen window. Contessa was just saying, “Look, Bonita. There is a note in our basket. See? It comes from El Zorro! I must take this to Señora Del Fuego at once.”
She ran quickly out of the room leaving Bonita standing with her mouth open. Bernardo smiled. In just a few minutes, he was riding back to the cave where Diego was waiting.
Señora Helena was sitting in her chair by the window when Contessa came in with the note. She was trying to figure out why she had poured out her heart to Don Alejandro this afternoon. It was not like her to lose control like that, especially concerning her private life. Perhaps it was the dreams. The dreams she had been having of Alberto . . . and Zorro. She took the note and dismissed Contessa. She wanted to be alone.
The note was addressed to her in a concise, masculine script. She opened the note and read, “Señora Del Fuego, meet me at the old winery tonight at ten o’clock. We have many things to discuss. You may have your servant accompany you there, but you must be alone when we talk.” It was signed, “Zorro.”
She let the hand holding the note fall into her lap. So, Zorro was asking her for a meeting. She must be getting even closer to him than she had imagined. Señora Helena experienced a feeling of satisfaction that pushed her other problem aside. Her emotions were of no consequence now that she was going to have Zorro within her grasp.
She did feel a little misgiving about meeting Zorro alone, without Rudolfo for protection. After all, Zorro had shown that he was not above wounding people or causing them to die when he thought it necessary. But she was going to carry a concealed pistol with which to defend herself and she thought it would do nicely to bend him to her will. She would know Zorro’s identity before this night was done. She smiled as she thought of returning to Mexico City, Zorro’s sword and mask in hand, to lay them on the table in front of Don Luís and all the rest.
She was sure that Don Luís had been making himself heard on the likelihood of Señora Helena being able to do what he had not. She rather thought that Don Luís might soon find Mexico City an embarrassing place, and she indulged herself with the idea that he might be forced to move to some foreign land where they had never heard of Zorro. Her heart much lighter than it had been a few minutes ago, Señora Helena ordered supper to be brought to her.
“So Señora Del Fuego received her message from Zorro?” said Diego. “Good. Sit down and rest yourself. I raided the kitchen and brought some food and wine for our supper. No, you just sit there. I will handle it.” Bernardo found it awkward to be waited upon by his master. It had been his job, ever since he had met Diego in Spain, to wait upon him. Not the other way around. But, as he watched Diego, their eyes met once or twice and Bernardo knew what was motivating his young master. Diego knew that tonight might be the last night he would be a free man. If things did not work out with Señora Del Fuego, Zorro would be revealed as being Diego de la Vega. For himself, Diego asked nothing; he had only done what he had to in the cause of justice. But for his servant and closest friend, Zorro’s capture meant imprisonment or death for Bernardo as well because he was an accomplice.
Bernardo’s heart was warmed by his master’s concern and he put out his hand to stop Diego’s preparations. When Diego looked up, Bernardo began to sign. When he was through, tears were brimming in both of their eyes.
Diego reached over and gripped Bernardo’s shoulder tightly. “No one could ask for a better ally or a closer friend than you have been to me, Bernardo. It is I who should be thanking you for all you have done.”
Bernardo returned the grip firmly and then got up to finish preparing supper. They ate in companionable silence.
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Ten
Chapter Nine
Chapter Eight
Chapter Seven
Chapter Six
Chapter Five
Chapter Four
Chapter Three
Chapter Two
Chapter One
Table of Contents
