April 24, 1815

Felipe

Initially, Felipe had taken no notice of the taller man who had arrived on the same ship as Sir Edmond. Around the pueblo, though, he attracted much more attention than Don Alejandro's old friend. Like Sir Edmond, Sebastian Moreno was a foreigner; Portuguese rather than English.

He was a famous writer, apparently. He had been traveling in the exotic islands to the east of Mexico when he heard about the great folk hero Zorro, and he had come all the way to California in order to write a book about him.

The people of Los Angeles were a bit awed by his credentials (he showed them a couple of actual books he had written) but they found his intention to research Zorro very amusing. It wasn't as though you could buy him a drink in the tavern or that he stopped to talk when he raced through town.

Gilberto, when he found out about it, had a smile all afternoon. "Do you suppose that anyone in Europe would want to read about Zorro?"

Diego, working on the (somewhat delicate) article on news from Spain for the paper, managed to give Gilberto a stern glare without actually looking at him.

Felipe shook his head. "It won't matter. There won't be any book. The alcalde will kill him."

Both of the twins froze, their shoulders slumping slightly. "He's right," Diego said softly. "There can be no discussion of Zorro without bringing a great deal of attention to the corruption in Los Angeles. Moreno won't be allowed to write his book."

They were in the library at the time. Gilberto answered in sign: "Think of something."

Diego had raised his hands in mock helplessness, but later convinced his father to invite Senor Moreno to supper on Monday night. Felipe wasn't entirely sure how this would help, unless the twins were going to try to convince Moreno to run away and not look back.

There was no convincing him of anything. He was much more willing to talk than listen. All through dinner he held forth on the stories of Zorro that were circulating in South America, the Caribbean, and even in Europe.

He was not having an easy time getting the local people of Los Angeles to talk about their legend, however, which was very frustrating.

Don Alejandro had seen the potential dangers of this 'Zorro research' independently of any prompting by the twins. He tried – in very blunt terms – to convey the problem, but Moreno was either amazingly thick or had a very low regard for his own safety.

A couple of times, Don Alejandro had glanced at Sir Edmond for help, but the older man seemed cheerfully oblivious to the conversation.

After his father's third try at making the point, Diego finally changed the subject: "Just how do you intend to identify Zorro? After all, the government has been trying for two years."

"Ah, now that is an interesting question. It will depend mainly on careful, systematic observation."

Diego leaned forward, apparently enraptured. "Do go on."

"The population of the territory is very small. The number of men the right age and height must be limited. It is only a matter of making note of physical attributes and mannerisms. I expect it will only take two or three observations of the subject to discover who he is."

Gilberto kept on eating as though it were the best food he had ever encountered. Diego said, "But surely, if it were so easy, the government would already have him?"

"Ah. But you see, that would require personal…encounters with the citizens. The military is not well liked in Los Angeles, is it? There is not much social mixing between the lancers and the local people. Even the alcalde – I suspect he is rarely invited to parties. His opportunity for observation is limited mostly to formal encounters." He shook his head to show what he thought of that. "I, on the other hand, am a threat to no one. And I am very personable. People do talk to me."

"An…interesting thesis," Diego said delicately. "But the alcalde is not the only one who is curious about the identity of Zorro. If all that is needed s opportunity…why has no one else done it?"

Moreno laughed. "I suspect someone has. Probably many someones. Whoever Zorro is…is probably an open secret among his neighbors."

"Your job would be much easier if you could convince Zorro's coconspirators to just tell you what they know."

"Yes," Moreno answered cheerfully. "Obviously. But I don't think it will be quite that easy."

The de le Vegas glanced at one another in bewilderment. "You really think you are going to do it?" Don Alejandro asked.

Moreno was completely undeterred by their doubts. When he had finally taken his leave, Sir Edmond glanced at the closed door and shook his head. "The man is a complete idiot. His books are romantic nonsense – He generously allowed me to read them on the ship." Everyone nodded; apparently it was very boring to be on a ship. "Drivel."

Don Alejandro speculated that he might be a little mad and shook his head sadly. Then, comparing idiots and possibly-mad people they had known in Madrid, the two older men drifted off to the library to play chess.

As soon as they turned the corner, Gilberto sagged and ran his hands through his hair. "Well," he said to Diego and Felipe. "Assume a polite 'good evening,' and all that." And he retreated toward his room.

Diego pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment and then followed him. Felipe, of course, followed Diego.

Diego pursued his brother to his room and shut the door firmly before saying anything: "None of this is your fault. What Moreno chooses to do is not your problem."

"And what the alcalde does?"

"We've had this discussion before. You are not responsible. Your choice to stop him when you can does not make you at fault when you cannot."

"You'll say that to me. But if you were in my place, you would be trying to do something."

Gilberto stared at the wall. Diego bowed his head and pinched his nose again.

"We did try to do something," Diego said finally. "Moreno is…uncommonly stupid."

"It's one thing to say stupidity is a capital offense. It's another to stand by and watch a man die."

"Perhaps Zorro should stay out of town for a while. Perhaps he'll get bored and give up."

"Oh, yes. A brilliant plan. One of your best, I'm sure."

Diego scowled and thumbed his forehead hard.

Gilberto folded his arms and asked, "How frequent are these headaches?"

"I don't know. Not very. It's nothing."

"I'm sorry. I have no business brooding at you over something we can't fix."

"Or to yourself, either."

Gilberto compressed his lips.

"Zorro has not solved all our problems, but he has solved a great many…."

"All right. You win. Let it be." He motioned to Felipe to get Diego off to bed.

For the next couple of weeks Zorro made no appearances in town. He didn't even ride out where farmers could see him in obscure places. It wasn't difficult: things were peaceful in town. The quiet of Lent continued into the weeks after Easter. Perhaps the alcalde had run out of ideas for oppressing people. Or perhaps he was only embarrassed from gloating over Zorro's death prematurely.

Gilberto took advantage of his free time to create complex charts about wind and temperature and clouds. He also fussed a great deal about his bees, visited the Neilsons, read two new books that had arrived on the recent ships, built three of the kites from Diego's design notebook…he seemed, to Felipe, completely bored.

The rains stopped coming, though the creeks were still full. Progress on the new house speeded up. Ranchers began to make plans for the spring round-up and the parties that would follow.

Don Alejandro fussed over Ducinea (definitely gravid and becoming spoiled), showed his guest over the rancho, and made arrangements with the mission to hire extra men to help with the round-up.

The lamb that Pepe had been given to hand-feed took to following him around like a pet. Felipe would have worried about that, but the lamb was a ewe and one of the prized ugly ones. There was no danger Pepe's little friend would wind up on the supper table.

~tbc