The Mark of Zorro by JOHNSTON MCCULLEY Read Free Book Online

put in order, of course, and get me more servants. Perhaps I should purchase a coach and drive with my bride as far as Santa Barbara and visit a friend there. Is it not possible for you to attend to everything else? Just merely send me word when the wedding is to be.”
    Don Carlos Pulido was nettled a little himself now. “Caballero,” he said, “when I courted Doña Catalina she kept me on needles and pins. One day she would frown, and the next day smile. It added a spice to the affair. I would not have had it different. You will regret it, señor , if you do not do your own courting. Would you like to see the señorita now?”
    â€œI suppose I must,” Don Diego said.
    Doña Catalina smiled graciously and went into the house to fetch the girl; and soon she came, a dainty little thing with black eyes that snapped, and black hair that was wound around her head in a great coil, and dainty little feet that peeped from beneath skirts of bright hue.
    â€œI am happy to see you again, Don Diego,” she said.
    He bowed over her hand and assisted her to one of the chairs.
    â€œYou are as beautiful as you were when I saw you last,” he said.
    â€œAlways tell a señorita that she is more beautiful than when you saw her last,” groaned Don Carlos. “Ah, that I were young again and could make love anew!”
    He excused himself and entered the house, and Doña Catalina moved to the other end of the veranda, so that the pair could talk without letting her hear the words, but from where she could watch, as a good dueña always must.
    â€œSeñorita,” Don Diego said, “I have asked your father this morning for permission to seek you in marriage.”
    â€œOh, señor!” the girl gasped.
    â€œDo you think I would make a proper husband?”
    â€œWhy, I—that is—”
    â€œJust say the word, señorita , and I shall tell my father, and your family will make arrangements for the ceremony. They can send word in to me by some native. It fatigues me to ride abroad when it is not at all necessary.”
    Now the pretty eyes of the Señorita Lolita began flashing warning signals, but Don Diego, it was evident, did not see them, and so he rushed forward to his destruction.
    â€œShall you agree to becoming my wife, señorita?” he asked, bending slightly toward her.
    Señorita Lolita’s face burned red, and she sprang from her chair, her tiny fists clenched at her side.
    â€œDon Diego Vega,” she replied, “you are of a noble family, and have much wealth, and will inherit more. But you are lifeless, señor! Is this your idea of courtship and romance? Can you not take the trouble to ride four miles on a smooth road to see the maid you would wed? What sort of blood is in your veins, señor? ”
    Doña Catalina heard that, and now she rushed across the veranda toward them, making signals to her daughter, which Señorita Lolita refused to see.
    â€œThe man who weds me must woo me and win my love,” the girl went on. “He must touch my heart. Think you that I am some bronze native wench to give myself to the first man who asks? The man who becomes my husband must be a man with life enough in him to want me. Send your servant to play a guitar beneath my window? Oh, I heard, señor! Send him, señor , and I’ll throw boiling water upon him and bleach his red skin! Buenas dias, señor!”
    She threw up her head proudly, lifted her silken skirts aside, and so passed him to enter the house, disregarding her mother also. Doña Catalina moaned once for her lost hopes. Don Diego Vega looked after the disappearing señorita , and scratched at his head thoughtfully, and glanced toward his horse.
    â€œI—I believe she is displeased with me,” he said, in his timid voice.

CHAPTER 7
    A DIFFERENT SORT OF MAN
    Don Carlos lost no time in hurrying out to the veranda again—since he had been