NOTE BY THE ACCOUNT HOLDER: THIS STORY IS NOT MINE!

WRITTEN BY KARLA GREGORY

Chapter Fifteen

Zorro crouched silently at the base of the building. Padre Ramon's window was directly above him. Every muscle and wound of his had protested greatly as he had descended to the ground. But he had gritted his teeth and persevered. Looking left and right, he scanned the area to see who was around. For the moment, he was alone. Reaching back to the base of the building, he pulled out the sword he had secreted earlier and buckled it on.

As he had the night before, he faced the large, open area that he had to pass over before he could gain the trees on the other side and make his escape. He noted with dismay that the guards all seemed to be facing the university. They would be sure to see his movements no matter how dark it may be. Then suddenly he turned to his left as he heard a loud, familiar voice as it cried, "Come quickly! Come quickly! I thought I saw someone run between those buildings over there. Yes, I am sure of it! What did he look like? Well I didn't see him well you understand, but he was wearing a very dirty white shirt that was full of holes.

Zorro smothered a laugh. It was Padre Ramon giving a false report! "Hurry, perhaps you can catch him!"

As Zorro pulled back deeper into the shadows, he saw all of the guards in the vicinity run to where the commotion was going on. Bless the priest! He was giving Diego a way to make good his escape.

As fast as he could, Zorro moved across to the trees on the other side of the open area. He was well out of breath when he got there, so he leaned back against a tree as he looked back for pursuers. He could not tarry long because he did not know how soon it would be until the guards were re-posted. Keeping to the darkest shadows, he kept moving until he was well away from the university grounds and heading into the streets of the city.

He recognized many landmarks from his time here as a student and so had no difficulty finding his way out of town. He had about three miles to go to reach the safe house. It took him until midnight to get there because he had to stop and rest often. Only one barking dog had threatened to give him away during the journey, but the owner had merely cursed the dog and thrown something at it to make it be quiet.

Even in his exhaustion, Zorro kept his caution intact. He studied the house from a little distance before going up to the small side door the padre had told him about. Using the key, he let himself in and leaned back on the closed door for support.

In the darkness of the house, Zorro was just able to make out that there was a table in front of him with a cup and a bottle of wine on it. Padre Ramon had thought of everything. Gratefully, Zorro poured wine in the cup and drank it down. He immediately felt much better.

Even though he was very tired, he made himself go around and acquaint himself with the small house. He noted each of the doors and windows and made sure of how their latch mechanisms worked. Then he ventured out into the walled back yard and noted with satisfaction the height of the walls that would give him privacy as he convalesced. One more thing and then he could rest.

Going back through the house, he went outside and walked the perimeter of the house and walled yard to gain knowledge of the land outside. He saw with relief that the area had many opportunities for cover should escape become necessary.

Returning back inside, he locked the door then proceeded to take off his sword and cloak which he hung on a peg near the bed. He took off his mask and tucked it into his shirt. Pouring himself another cup of wine, Diego went to the bed and put his pistol under the pillow. He kept his knife in his waistband. Getting on the bed, he drank the wine slowly and almost before he could finish it he was dead asleep, cup still in hand.

When next he awoke, the day was almost gone. Groaning to himself, he rolled off of the bed holding onto the bedpost for support. When was he going to be able to move without hurting so much he wondered. Stiffly at first, then a little better as he moved around, he went to each window and looked out carefully, but saw nothing amiss.

Looking back at the room, he saw a chest of drawers with a mirror and a wash basin on the far wall. He went to wash his face. The drawers of the chest produced soap, towels and a razor. At first, Diego was going to shave his beard off, but then decided merely to trim it into shape. He thought it would help disguise him to anyone who might have known him before.

Carefully he began to wash his wounds after taking off his clothes. The "M" on his chest seemed to burn into his eyes every time he looked into the mirror. He turned so as not to see it, but then Monastario's face flashed in his mind's eye. Grimly he went on washing himself. The wound on his left arm was looking better. The angry redness surrounding it had begun to lessen, but it was devilishly painful if bumped or if he used the arm much. His other wounds were still sensitive to the soap and water but he was relieved to see that they were showing signs of healing.

When he was done, he looked in the other drawers of the chest and found some fresh clothing, which he put on. The new clothing was not dark like those he just took off so he completed his transformation back to Diego.

Selecting some bread, cheese and another cup of wine, he went out into the walled yard and sat on the doorsteps of the house. How good it was just to have the sun shine on his face! He had not had this simple freedom for months. The food was forgotten as Diego absorbed the fresh air and the sunshine and heard the birds singing in the trees. Silently, a single tear traced its way down his face for the simple joy of it.

But his stomach would not be denied and it soon reminded him of its emptiness. So until sundown, Diego sat and ate his meal on the steps of the little house.

The night and the next day passed uneventfully for Diego. He slept quite a lot. Once or twice he went outside to try and move around to reduce his stiffness, but found he had no energy. He made some attempts at some basic fencing exercises, but found them unsatisfactory as he could not get his body to do what he wanted. Discouraged, he went to bed early and slept the night through.

On the third morning, Padre Ramon came early and looking at Diego, declared that he looked much better. Even though Diego protested, there was nothing for him to do but let the padre examine his wounds. They were determined to be satisfactory. The padre had brought some more food and wine and they soon sat down to breakfast.

"Diego, I have some good news," said the padre. "I told everyone at the university that I wished to take a sabbatical and write a book and they agreed to let me. I can come here Monday through Friday to work on the book and as long as I have several pages completed each week for my superiors to review, I don't anticipate anyone looking for me. I am pleased to be able to spend time with you my son, to renew our friendship and help you get well." He was rewarded by Diego's warm smile.