Epilogue

Enrique looked out the window, saw that de la Vega was chatting with a señor, and smiled: the boy from Madrid did become Don Diego. A bit of Zorro, a bit of de la Vega and, overall, a young man you wanted to be friend with. But, to tell the truth, their relationship was still far from friendship. Either due to their difference in characters, or because Enrique constantly teased de la Vega, succumbing to an inexplicable desire to make fun of "Señor Zorro." Diego sulked, Enrique reluctantly apologized, and each such disagreement ended in a friendly joust and a new conversation, during which the companions boasted about their past victories in fights or something similar. They didn't talk about women; Monastario, of course, might tell a lot, but either de la Vega had had his heart broken by some señorita, or the young man had little experience, but by unspoken agreement they avoided the topic of love. But heated debates about politics increasingly ended in a joint search for the truth.

The week in the settlement, which took its name from the Mission of, um, San Diego, flew by. Unlike the soldiers of Los Ángeles, the military of the local Presidio made a good impression, so the fugitive Captain Monastario decided to make himself discreet. Diego turned out to be a nice guy and he was saddened by this voluntary confinement of his companion, but at night they would go out, walking along the coast of the San Diego bay, drinking wine and talking. It was embarrassing to admit, but Enrique had loved this place. Perhaps he could like the Americas. For example, a service in Mexico, the capital of New Spain, would suit him perfectly...

Refocusing on more pressing matters, the Captain decided to write a letter to a friend, a native of Mexico City, to find out the latest political news and decide what to do next, and, picking up a dropped pen from the floor, he noticed some kind of folder under the bed. It contained about twenty sheets of paper covered in de la Vega's small, oblique handwriting. Monastario's gaze slid over the lines, and his eyes widened. Not believing what he was seeing, he read again what Diego had written. He sat down on a chair and rubbed the scar on his cheek. This could not be true! He probably got it all wrong. "Your secrets, Diego, will destroy me someday," Enrique muttered, realizing that the best thing to do was to leave San Diego, leaving no chance for de la Vega to find him.

But instead, Captain Monastario did exactly the opposite: going down the creaky stairs, he asked for dinner to be served in their room and, grabbing a couple of bottles of excellent Tempranillo, waited for Diego's return. As if wine could help him find the right words. As if they even existed... The temptation to pretend that Enrique was unaware of another of de la Vega's secrets was great, but no matter what the spiteful critics said, Monastario considered himself a good officer and a real caballero. He was not used to running away from trouble. However, was what he had just learned worse than Zorro's secret, which he kept? No.

"Enrique, I... Wine? Did I forget about some holiday?"

"With you, de la Vega, every day is like a holiday," Enrique joked. "Let's have dinner here, I want to... discuss plans for the future."

"But I don't drink much," Diego flashed a smile. "I wouldn't want to do something while drunk that I would later regret."

Uncorking the first bottle, Enrique chuckled. If a sober de la Vega could turn into a noble bandit, then, really, what could he be capable of while drunk...

Monastario glanced sideways at Diego, who was just putting on his robe, and suddenly remembered how he and the soldiers pranced under the balcony of de la Vega's bedroom. How long ago was it? An eternity ago.

You have been looking for Zorro, Enrique? You have found him. Are you glad? asked an inner voice.

I still do not understand, if I am, Monastario grinned internally.

And a feeling of inevitability, sharp as a Toledo blade, ran like a wave along his spine. It was unlikely that Enrique would ever become a wealthy, respectable Californian. Well, to hell with it.

With this I conclude my story. A new story awaits our characters, which I, perhaps, will tell you someday.

Notes

Many thanks to everyone who showed interest in this story. For those who are curious about the "director's cut," please wait until November for the publication of "The Toledo Blade (color version)." But remember: the point of such a mysterious open ending is that you (yes, YOU) decide what will happen next.