Gonzales whirled at the word, and his blade came up. He saw that Senor Zorro had drawn his sword, and that he was holding the pistol in his left hand high above his head. Moreover, Senor Zorro was chuckling still, and the sergeant became infuriated. The blades clashed.Sergeant Gonzales had been accustomed to battling with men who gave ground when they pleased and took it when they could, who went this way and that seeking an advantage, now advancing, now retreating, now swinging to left or right as their skill directed them.But here he faced a man who fought in quite a different way. For Senor Zorro, it appeared, was as if rooted to one spot and-unable to turn his face in any other direction. He did not give an inch, nor did he advance, nor step to either side.Gonzales attacked furiously, as was his custom, and he found the point of his blade neatly parried. He used more caution then and tried what tricks he knew, but they seemed to avail him nothing. He attempted to pass around the man before him, and the other's blade drove him back. He tried a retreat, hoping to draw the other out, but Senor Zorro stood his ground and forced Gonzales to attack again. As for the highwayman, he did nought except put up a defense.Anger got the better of Gonzales then, for he knew the corporal was jealous of him and that the tale of this fight would be told to all the pueblo tomorrow, and so travel up and down the length of El Camino Real.He attacked furiously, hoping to drive Senor Zorro off his feet and make an end of it But he found that his attack ended as if against a stone wall, his blade was turned aside, his breast crashed against that of his antagonist, and Senor Zorro merely threw out his chest and hurled him back half a dozen steps."Fight, senor!" Senor Zorro said."Fight yourself, cutthroat and thief!" the exasperated sergeant cried. "Don't stand like a piece of the hills, fool! Is it against your religion to take a step?""You cannot taunt me into doing it," the highwayman replied, chuckling again.Sergeant Gonzales realized then that he had been angry, and he knew an angry man cannot fight with the blade as well as a man who controls his temper. So he became deadly cold now, and his eyes narrowed, and all boasting was gone from him.He attacked again, but now he was alert, seeking an unguarded spot through which he could thrust without courting disaster himself. He fenced as he never had fenced in his life before. He cursed himself for having allowed wine and food to rob him of his wind. From the front, from either side, he attacked, only to be turned back again, all his tricks solved almost before he tried them.He had been watching his antagonist's eyes, of course, and now he saw a change. They had seemed to be laughing through the mask, and now they had narrowed and seemed to send forth flakes of fire."We have had enough of playing," Senor Zorro said. "It is time for the punishment!"And suddenly he began to press the fighting, taking step after step, slowly and methodically going forward and forcing Gonzales backward. The tip of his blade seemed to be a serpent's head with a thousand tongues. Gonzales felt himself at the other's mercy, but he gritted his teeth and tried to control himself and fought on.Now he was with his back against the wall, but in such a position that Senor Zorro could give him battle and watch the men in the corner at the same time. He knew the highwayman was playing with him. He was ready to swallow his pride and call upon the corporal and soldiers to rush in and give him aid.And then there came a sudden battering at the door, which the native had bolted. The heart of Gonzales gave a great leap. Somebody was there, wishing to enter. Whoever it was would think it peculiar that the door was not thrown open instantly by the fat landlord or his servant. Perhaps help was at hand.
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