Chapter 18

The memorial service for Zorro was difficult for Diego. He played his part well. Victoria shed a few tears on his shoulder and he finally felt free to show his real feeling for her in public. Several heads nodded toward him, as if to spur him on in his possible courtship of Zorro's lovely lady.

But the worst part was listening to all the anecdotal accounts various people gave of their interactions with the masked bandit. Most were entirely fictitious. He knew. He was there, or rather, he wasn't. The exploits of Zorro had truly, in the space of a few days, grown to such fantastic proportions, it was certain that Zorro had already achieved the status of a legend.

The opinions of his death were varied. Some believed Don Sebastian's story. Zorro had entered a burning stable and had never come out again. All that remained of him was the cape and the mask he had shed before entering the building.

But others believed that he had escaped. After all, he always had before, hadn't he?

Still more believed that he had merely moved on to fight injustice in a different place.

The death of the alcalde had released the pueblo from the fist of a tyrant. Rumors were running rampant that Spain was losing Alta California to Mexico. Hope was high that the new local government would be a fairer one, regardless of which country ruled it. And if it weren't, then Zorro would return. A hero such as he would not let death stop him!

A candlelit procession of mourners filed out to the cemetery just outside the pueblo. An impressive headstone was adorned with a simple "Z" carved in an elegant script. Padre Benitez gave an eloquent eulogy. Hymns were sung. But, for all the sadness and tears, there was hope in the eyes of the people.

"Victoria, I don't want you to be alone tonight. You will come and stay with us for awhile. I won't have it any other way." Don Alejandro spoke loudly enough for those around to hear. He wanted to make it clear that the young tavern owner was being drawn into his family. The fact that Diego had a firm embrace around her shoulders and had for most of the night was noted by all. The two young people had been absorbed with their roles and each other, but Alejandro had carefully watched the crowd for reactions. Yes, in a few months, a wedding would not be out of order.

After arriving back at the hacienda, Alejandro ordered that a bottle of Madeira be brought to the library.

"Well, we've had a sad evening. But I refuse to let Zorro not be remembered without celebration as well. A toast to his life and his deeds!"

The three drank the toast solemnly. All three were well aware that servants were probably listening, and they used the time to further their long-range plan.

But some time later, when the household was asleep, Diego tapped on Victoria's door. She opened it fully dressed, for she had known he would come.

"I wanted to really talk to you. I have had enough play-acting for one night." He reached for her and, in an instant, she was in his arms. "That's more like it," he whispered.

"I missed you too." She spoke softly into his chest. "Are you still mad at me?"

He let out a faint chuckle. "No, but from now on, will you let me make the decisions?"

The End