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DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 DURHAM, N. C. 
 
 Rec'd 
 
Digitized by 
 
 the Internet Archive 
 
 
 
 in 2015 
 
 
 
 https://archive.org/details/hiddenhando_rcapi01sout 
 
CAPITOLA. 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
 The Hidden Hand; 
 
 OB, 
 
 CAPITOLA THE MAD-CAP. 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH, 
 
 ATJTHOB OP 
 
 **ONLY A girl's HEART," "NEAREST AND DEAREST," "ISHMAEL," 
 "SELF-MADE," ETC., ETC., ETC, 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 G. W, Dillingham, Publisher, 
 
 Successor to G. W. Carleton & Co. 
 
 MDCCCLXXXVIII. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, 
 
 Bx EGBERT BONNER, 
 In the Clerk's Ofllce of the District Court for the Southern District of New York. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, 
 By ROBERT BONNER, 
 In the Clerk's Office of tiie District Court for the Southern District of New York. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1883, 
 By ROBERT BONNER, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1888, 
 By G. W. DILLINGHAM, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 [ALL RIGHTS BESERVED.] 
 
 Beprinted from the New York Ledger by permlaelon of 
 Robert Bokneb's Sons. 
 
 Stereottped bt 
 Samuel Stoddeb, 
 42 Dey Street, N. Y. 
 
publisher's preface. 
 
 The HiDDEi^ Hand ; or, Capitola the Mad-Oap " 
 
 is by all odds the most popular story ever published. We 
 doubt if, in all the range and realm of literature, there has 
 ever been a heroine wlio could vie with the captivating mad- 
 cap Capitola in exciting the admiration of readers, or in 
 winniDg and keeping their hearts. She is so bright, so 
 spirited, so beautiful, so sagacious, so dauntless, and yet so 
 innocent and childlike, that she at once takes all readers 
 captive and holds them enchained by her fascinations clear 
 to the last page of the narrative. 
 
 Millions of copies of The Hidde^t Hand have been 
 sold in the Neio York Ledger, in which it originally ap- 
 peared, and the demand for back numbers of the Ledger 
 containing it has continued down to the present day. Tens 
 of thousands of people have requested the publication of 
 this wonderful story in book-form, and by an arrangement 
 with EoBERT Bonnee's Sons w^e are now able to gratify 
 this long-continued and wide-spread demand. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 I. The Nocturnal Visit 9 
 
 II. The Masks 19 
 
 m. The Quest 38 
 
 IV. Capitola 41 
 
 V. The Discovery 47 
 
 VI. A Short, Sad Story 52 
 
 VII. Metamorphosis of the News-Boy 59 
 
 VIII. Herbert Greyson 66 
 
 IX. Marah Rocke 75 
 
 X. The Room of the Trap-door 88 
 
 XL A iSIystery and a Storm at Hurricane Hall 96 
 
 XII. Marah's Dreams 107 
 
 XIII. MaralTs Memories , 114 
 
 XIV. ThL V, asling Heart 123 
 
 XV. Cap's Country Capers 132 
 
 XVI. Cap s Fearful Adventure 139 
 
 XVII. Another Storm at Hurricane Hall 145 
 
 XVin. The Doctor's Daughter 157 
 
 XIX. The Resigned Soul 164 
 
 XX. The Outlaw's Rendezvous 170 
 
 XXI. Gabriel Le Noir 178 
 
 XXII. The Smuggler and Capitola 183 
 
 XXin. The Boy's Love 200 
 
 XXIV. Capitoli's Mother 211 
 
 XXV. Cap's Tricks and Perils. 222 
 
 XXVI. The Peril and the Pluck of Cap 235 
 
 XXVIL Seeking His Fortune 245 
 
 XXVIIL A Panic in the Outlaw's Den 256 
 
 2084?'! 
 
OONTENTfl. 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 XXIX. The Victory Over Death 270 
 
 XXX. The Orphan 285 
 
 XXXL The Orphan's Trial 296 
 
 XXXII. Old Hurricane Storms 316 
 
 XXXIII. Cap's Visit to the Hidden House 825 
 
 XXXIV. The Hidden Hollow 832 
 
 XXXV. The Hidden House 839 
 
 XXXVI. The Inmate of the Hidden House 346 
 
 XXXVII. Cap's Return 354 
 
 XXXVIII. Another Mystery, at the Hidden House 360 
 
 XXXIX. Cap Frees the Captive 364 
 
 XL. Cap in Captivity 384 
 
 XLI. An Unexpected Visitor at Marah's Cottage 395 
 
 XLII. Cap "Rests on Her Laurels" and "Spoils for a 
 
 Fight" 405 
 
 XLIII. Black Donald 413 
 
 XLIV. Glory! 421 
 
 XLV. Cap Captivates a Craven 430 
 
 XLVL Cap's Rage 444 
 
 XLVIL Capitola Caps the Climax 455 
 
 XL VIII. Black Donald's Last Attempt 467 
 
 XLIX. The Awful Peril of Capitola 474 
 
 L. The Next Morning 486 
 
 LL A Fatal Hatred 494 
 
 LIL The Court Martial 510 
 
 LIIL The Verdict 516 
 
 LIV. The End of the War 625 
 
 LV. The Fortunate Bath 534 
 
 LVI. The Mysterious Maniac 542 
 
 LVII. The Maniac's Story 549 
 
 LVIII. End of the Lady's Story 555 
 
 LIX. Prospects Brighten 566 
 
 LX. Capitola a Capitalist 574 
 
 LXL * " There Shall be Light at the Eventide" 687 
 
THE HIDDEN HAND, 
 
 CHAPTEE 1. 
 
 THE KOCTURNAL VISIT. 
 
 * * * Whence is that knocking ? 
 How is't with me when every sound appals me? 
 
 * * * I hear a knocking 
 
 In the south entry I Hark ! — more knocking ! 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 HuERiCAi^E Hall is a large old family mansion, built 
 of dark, red sandstone, in one of the loneliest and T\-ildest 
 of the mountain regions of Virginia. 
 
 The estate is surrounded on three sides by a range of 
 steep, gray rocks, spiked with clumps of dark evergreens^ 
 and called, from its horseshoe form, the DeviPs Hoof. 
 
 On the fourth side the ground gradually descends in 
 broken rock and barren soil to the edge of the wild moun- 
 tain stream known as the Devil's Eun. 
 
 When storms and floods Avcre liigb, the loud roaring of 
 the wild mountain gorges, and the terrific raging of the 
 torrent over its rocky course, gave to this savage locality its 
 ill-omened names of DeviPs Hoof, Devirs Eun_, and Hurri- 
 cane Hall. 
 
10 
 
 THE NOCTURNAL VISIT. 
 
 Major Ira Warfield, the lonely proprietor of the Hall, 
 Y/as a veteran officer, who, in disgust at what he supposed to 
 be ill-requited services, had retired from public life to spend 
 the evening of his vigorous age on this his patrimonial 
 estate. Here he lived in seclusion, with his old-fashioned 
 housekeeper, Mrs. Condiment, and liis old family servants 
 and his favorite dogs and horses. Here his mornings were 
 usually spent in the chase, in which he excelled, and his 
 afternoon and evenings were occupied in small convivial 
 suppers among his few chosen companions of the chase or 
 the bottle. 
 
 In person Major Warfield was tall and strongly built, 
 reminding one of some old iron-limbed Douglas of the olden 
 time. His features were large and harsh; his complexion 
 dark red, as that of one bronzed by long exposure and flushed 
 with strong drink. His fierce, dark gray eyes were sur- 
 mounted by thick, heavy black brows, that, when gathered 
 into a frown, reminded one of a thunder cloud, as the flash- 
 ing orbs beneath them did of lightning. His hard, harsh 
 face was surrounded by a thick growth of iron-gray hair and 
 beard that met beneath his chin. His usual habit was a 
 black cloth coat, crimson vest, black leather breeches, long, 
 black yarn stockings, fastened at the knees, and morocco 
 slippers with silver buttons. 
 
 In character Major Warfield was arrogant, domineering 
 and violent — equally loved and feared by his faithful old 
 family servants at home — disliked and dreaded by his 
 neighbors and acquaintances abroad, who, partly from his 
 house and partly from his character, fixed upon him the 
 appropriate Nickname of Old Huriiicane. 
 
 There was, however, other ground of dislike besides 
 that of his arrogant mind, violent temper and domineeriug 
 habits. Old Hurricane was said to be an old bachelor, yet 
 rumor whispered that tliiTL' v/as in some obscure part of the 
 world, hidden away from human sight, a deserted wife and 
 child, poor, forlorn, and heartbroken. It was farther whis- 
 
THL 2>0CTURXAL VISIT. 
 
 11 
 
 pered that the elder brother of Ira T^'arfield had mysteri- 
 ously disappeared, and not v\-ithont some suspicion of foul 
 play oil the part of t^ o on-y person in the vrorld who had a 
 strong interest in his " taking oK/' However these things 
 might be. it v^is knovrn for a cerLainty that Old Hunicane 
 had an only sister^ widowed, sick and poor, who with her 
 son dragged on a wretched life of ill-recjiiited toil, severe 
 privation, and painful inilrmit}', in a distant city, unaided, 
 unsought and nncared for by her cruel brother. 
 
 It was the night of the last day of October, eighteen 
 hundred and forty-five. The evening had closed in dark 
 and gloomy. About dusk the wind arose in the northwest, 
 driving up masses of leaden-hued clouds, and in a few min- 
 utes the ground was covered deej^ with snow, and the air 
 was filled with driving sleet. 
 
 As this was All Hallow Eve, the dreadful inclemency of 
 the weather did not i^revent the negroes of Hnrricane Hall 
 from availing themselves of their capricious old master-s 
 permission, and going off in a body to a banjo break-down, 
 held in the negro quarters of their next neighbor. 
 
 Upon this evening, then, there was left at Hurricane 
 Hall only Major Warfield ; Mrs. Condiment, his little old 
 housekeeper ; and Wool, his body-servant. 
 
 Early in the evening the old hall was shut up closely to 
 keep out as much as possible the sound of the storm that 
 roared through the mountain chasms, and cannouaded the 
 walls of the house as if determined to force an entrance. 
 As soon as she had seen that all was safe, Mrs. Condiment 
 went to bed and went to sleep. 
 
 It was about ten o^clock that night that Old Hurricane, 
 well wrapped up in his quilted flannel dressing-gown, sat in 
 his well padded easy chair before a warm and bright fire, 
 taking his comfort in his own most comfortable bed-room. 
 This was the hour of the coziest enjoyment to the self- 
 indulgent old Sybarite, who dearly loved his own ease. And 
 indeed every means and appliance of bodily comfort was at 
 
12 
 
 THE NOCTCTRNAL VISIT. 
 
 Land. Strong oaken shutters and thick heavy curtains at 
 the windows kept out every draft of air, and so deadened the 
 sound of the wind that its subdued moaning was just suf- 
 ficient to remind one of the stormy weather without in 
 contrast to the bright warmth within. Old Hurricane, as 
 I said, sat well wrapped up in his wadded dressing-gown, 
 and reclining in his padded easy chair, with his head thrown 
 back and his feet upon the fire irons, toasting his shins and 
 sipping his punch. On his right hand stood a little table 
 with a lighted candle, a stack of clay pipes, a jug of punch, 
 lemons, sugar, Holland gin, etc., while on the hearth sat a 
 kettle of boiling water to help to replenish the jug if 
 needful. 
 
 On his left hand stood his cozy bedstead with its warm 
 crimson curtains festooned back, revealing the luxurious 
 swell of the full feather bed, and pillows with their snow 
 white linen, and lambswool blankets inviting repose. 
 Between this bedstead and the corner of the fire-place stood 
 Old Hurricane's ancient body servant. Wool, engaged in 
 warming a crimson cloth nightcap. 
 
 Fools !" muttered Old Hurricane over his punch — 
 jacks ! they'll all get the pleurisy except those that get 
 drunk ! Did they all go. Wool?'' 
 
 ^' Ebery man, 'oman and chile, sar ! — 'cept 'tis me and 
 coachman, sar." 
 
 More fools they ! And I shouldn't wonder if you, you 
 old scarecrow, didn't want to go too !" 
 No, Marse " 
 
 I know better, sir ! don't contradict me ! Well, as 
 as soon as I'm in bed, and that won't be long now, you may 
 go ! — so that you can get back in time to wait on me to- 
 morrow morning !" 
 '^Thanky, Marse." 
 
 Hold your tongue ! Yoa are as big a fool as the rest." 
 '^I take this," said Old Hurricane, as he sipped his 
 punch and smacked his lips — ^'I take this to be the very 
 
THE NOCTURNAL VISIT. 
 
 13 
 
 quinfesseDce of human enjoyment — sitting here in my soft, 
 warm cliair before the lire, toasting my legs, sipping my 
 punch, listening on the one hand to the storm without, and 
 glancing on the other hand at my comfortable bed waiting 
 there to receive my sleepy head. If there is anything better 
 than this in this world, I wish somebody would let me know 
 it.^^ 
 
 ''It's all werry comfortable indeed, Marse,'' said the 
 obsequious Wool. 
 
 '' I wonder now if there is anything on the face of the 
 earth that would tempt me to leave my cozy fireside and go 
 abroad to-night ? I wonder how large a promise of pleasure 
 or profit or glory it would tiike now 
 
 " Much as ebber Congress itse'f could give if it give you 
 a penance for all your sarvins," suggested Wool. 
 
 ''Yes, and more ! for I wouldn't leave my home com- 
 forts to-night to ensure not only the pension but the thanks 
 of Congress V said the old man, replenishing his glass with 
 steaming punch, and drinking it off leisurely. 
 
 The clock struck eleven. The old man replenished his 
 glass, and while sijDping its contents said : 
 
 "You may fill the warming-pan and warm my bed. 
 Wool. The fumes of this fragrant punch are beginning to 
 rise to my head and make me sleepy.^' 
 
 The servant filled the warming-pan with glowing embers, 
 shut down the lid, and thrust it between the sheets, to warm 
 the couch of the luxurious "*ld Hurricane. The old man 
 continued to toast his feet, bij^ his punch, and smack his 
 lips. He finished his glass, set it down, and was just in the 
 act of drawing on his woolen night cap, preparatory to step- 
 ping into his well- warmed bed, when he was suddenly 
 startled by a loud ringing of the hall door-bell. 
 
 " What the foul fiend can that mean at this time of 
 night \" exclaimed Old Hurricane, dropping his night-cap, 
 and turning sharply around towards Wool, who, warming- 
 
14 
 
 THE NOCTURNAL VISIT. 
 
 pan in hand, stood staring with astonishment. What 
 does that mean, I ask you 
 
 Deed, I dunno, sar, less it's some benighted traveler 
 in search o'shelter out'n de storm/' 
 
 Humph ! and in search of supper, too, of course, and 
 everybody gone away or gone to bed but you and me !" 
 
 At this moment the ringing was followed by a loud 
 knocking. 
 
 Marse, don't less you and me listen to it, and then we 
 aint 'obliged to sturb ourselves wid answering of it," sug- 
 gested Wool. 
 
 ^^'Sdeath, sir ! do you think that I am going to turn a 
 deaf ear to a stranger that comes to my house for shelter on 
 such a night as this ? Go and answer the bell directly." 
 
 "Yes, sar." 
 
 But stop — look here, sirrah — mind, I am not to be 
 disturbed. If it is a traveler, ask him in, set refreshments 
 before him, and show him to bed. I'm not going to leave 
 my warm room to welcome anybody to-night, please the 
 Lord. Do you hear ?" 
 
 Yes, sar," said the darkey, retreating. 
 As Wool took a shaded taper and opened the door lead- 
 ing from his master's chamber, the wind was heard howling 
 through the long passages ready to burst into the cozy bed- 
 room. 
 
 Shut the door, you scoundrel roared the old man, 
 folding the skirt of his warm dressing-gown across his 
 knees, and hovering closer to the fire. 
 
 Wool quickly obeyed, and was heard retreating down the 
 steps. 
 
 Whew P said the old man, spreading his hands over 
 the blaze with a look of comfortable appreciation. " What 
 would induce me to go abroad on such a night as this? 
 Wind blowing great guns from the north-west — snow falling 
 fast from the heavens, and rising just as fast befoi'c the wind 
 from the ground ! — cold as Lapland, dark as Erebus ! No 
 
THE NOCTUEXAL Ylf^IT. 
 
 15 
 
 telling the earth from the sky. Whew I'"' and to comfort the 
 cold thought, Old Hurricane poured out another glass of 
 smoking punch, and began to sip it. 
 
 How I thank the Lord that I am not a doctor ! If I 
 were a doctor now, the sound of that bell at this hour of 
 night would frighten me ; I should think some old woman 
 had been taken with the pleurisy, and wanted me to get up 
 and go out in the storm, to turn out of my warm bed to 
 ride ten miles through the snow to prescribe for her. A 
 doctor never can feel sure, even in the Avorst of weathers, 
 of a good night's rest. But, thank heaven, I am free from 
 all such annoyances, and if I am sure of anything in this 
 world it is of my comfortable night^s sleep,^^ said Old Hur- 
 ricane^ as he slipped his punoh, smacked his lips and toasted 
 his feet. 
 
 At this moment Wool re-appeared. 
 Shut the dooe, you yillain ! Do you intend to stand 
 there holding it open on me all night vociferated the old 
 man. 
 
 Wool hastily closed the offending portals, and hurried 
 to his master's side. 
 
 *^ Well, sir, who was it rung the bell 
 Please, Marster, sir, it wer de Eeverend Mr. Parson 
 Goodwin." 
 
 " Goodwin ? Been to make a sick-call, I suppose, and 
 got caught in the snow-storm. I declare it is as bad to be 
 a parson as it is to be a doctor. Thank the Lord / am not 
 a parson either ; if T were now, I might be called away from 
 my cozy arm-chair and fire-side to ride twelve miles to com- 
 fort some old man dying of quinsy. Wool, here — help me 
 into bed, pile on more comforters, tuck me up warm, put 
 a bottle of hot water to my feet, and then go and attend to 
 the parson, said the old man, getting up and moving 
 towards his inviting couch. 
 
 '^Sar! sar ! stop^, sar, H jou please !" cried Wool;, 
 going after him. 
 
16 
 
 THE NOCTURNAL VISIT. 
 
 Why, wliat does the old fool mean," exclaimed Old 
 Hurricane, angrily. 
 
 Sar, de Reverend Mr. Parson Goodwin say how he 
 must see you yourse'f, personable, alone V 
 
 ''See me, you villain ! Didn't you tell him that I had 
 retired V 
 
 " Yes, Marse, I tell him how you wer' gone to bed and 
 asleep moreen an hour ago, and he ordered me to come wake 
 you up, and say how it were a matter o' life and death 
 
 *' Life and death? What have I to do with life and 
 death? / wonH stir ! If the parson wants to see me, he 
 will have to come up here and see me in bed," exclaimed 
 Old Hurricane, suiting the action to the word, by jumping 
 into bed and drawing all the comforters and blankets up 
 around his head and shoulders. 
 
 '' Mus' I fetch his reverence up, sar ?" 
 
 ''Yes, / wouldn't get up and go down to see — Washing- 
 ton — Shut the door, you rascal, or Fll throw the bootjack 
 at your wooden head !" 
 
 " Wool obeyed with alacrity, and in time to escape the 
 threatened missile. 
 
 After an absence of a few minutes he was heard return- 
 ing, attending upon the footsteps of another. And the next 
 minute he entered, ushering in the Eev. Mr. Goodwin, the 
 parish minister of Bethlehem, St. Mary's. 
 
 "How do you do ? How do you do? Glad to see you, 
 sir ! glad to see you, though obliged to receive you in bed ! 
 Fact is, I caught a cold with this severe change of weather, 
 and took a warm negus and went to bed to sweat it off ! 
 You'll excuse me ! Wool, draw that easy chair up to my 
 bedside for worthy Mr. Goodwin, and bring him a glass of 
 warm negus ! It will do him good after his cold ride 
 
 " I thank you, Major Warfield ! I will take the seat, 
 but not the negus, if you please, to-night." 
 
 "Not the negus ! Oh, come now, you are joking ! 
 Why, it will keep you from catching cold, and be a most 
 
THE NOCTURNAL VISIT. 
 
 17 
 
 comfortable night-cap, disposing you to sleep and sweat like 
 a baby ! Of course you spend the night with us ?" 
 
 I thank you, no. I must take the road again in a few 
 minutes.'^ 
 
 ^'Take the road again to-night ! Why, man alive, it is 
 midnight, and the snow driving like all Lapland V 
 
 Sir, 1 am sorry to refuse your proffered hospitality, 
 and leave your comfortable roof to-night, and sorrier still to 
 have to take you with me," said the pastor, gravely. 
 
 Take ME with you ! No, no, my good sir — no, no, 
 that is too good a joke — ha ! ha V 
 
 Sir, I fear that you will find it a very serious one ! — 
 Your servant told you that my errand was one of imminent 
 urgency ?" 
 
 *^ Yes, something like life and death 
 
 Exactly — down in the cabin near the Punch Bowl, 
 
 there is an old woman dying " 
 
 " There — I knew it ! I was just saying there might be 
 an old woman dying ! But, my dear sir, what's that to 
 me ? What can I do 
 
 ^' Humanity, sir, would prompt you 
 
 But, my dear sir, how can I help her ? I am not a 
 physician to prescribe " 
 
 She is far past a physician's help \" 
 
 Nor am I a priest to hear her confession " 
 
 Her confession God has already received.-" 
 
 Well, and I'm not a lawyer to draw up her will !" 
 
 No, sir ; but 3'ou are recently appointed one of the 
 Justices of the Peace for Alleghany ?" 
 
 " Yes ! well, what of that ? That does not comprise 
 the duty of getting up out of my warm bed and going 
 through a snow-storm to see an old woman expire." 
 
 I regret to inconvenience you, sir ; but in this instance 
 your duty demands your attendance at the bedside of this 
 
 dying woman " 
 
 ^* I tell you I can't go and I won't ! Anything in rea- 
 
18 
 
 THE NOCTURNAL VISIT. 
 
 son, 1^11 do ! Anything I can send, she shall have ! — Here ! 
 Wool, look in my breeches pocket and take out my purse 
 and hand it ! And then go and wake Mrs. Condiment, and 
 ask her to fill a large basket full of everything a poor old 
 dying woman might want, and you shall carry it !" 
 
 Spare your pains, sir! The poor woman is already 
 past all earthly, selfish wants ! She only asks your presence 
 at her dying bed." 
 
 But I can't go ! I ! the idea of turning out of my 
 warm bed and exposing myself to a snow-storm this time 
 of night V 
 
 Excuse me for insisting, sir ; but this is an official 
 duty," said the parson, mildly but firmly. 
 
 ^' ril — 111 throw up my commission to-morrow 
 growled the old man. 
 
 To-morrow you may do that ! but meanwhile, to- 
 night, being still in the commission of the peace, you are 
 bound to get up and go with me to this woman^s bedside." 
 
 And what the demon is wanted of me there ?" 
 
 To receive her dying deposition !" 
 " To receive a dying deposition ! Good Heaven ! was 
 she murdered, then ?" exclaimed the old man, in alarm, as he 
 started out of bed and began to draw on his nether gar- 
 ments. 
 
 Be composed — she was not murdered !" said the pastor. 
 *'^Well, then, what is it? Dying deposition ! It must 
 concern a crime !" exclaimed the old man, hastily drawing 
 on his coat. 
 
 " It does concern a crime." 
 What crime, for the love of Heaven ?" 
 I am not at liberty to tell you. She will do that." 
 " Wool, go down and rouse up Jehu, and tell him to put 
 Parson Goodwin's mule in the stable for the night. And 
 tell him to put the black draught-horses to the close carriage, 
 and light both the front lanterns — for we shall have a d;irk, 
 stormy road Shut the door, you infernal ! — I beg your 
 
THE MASKS. 
 
 19 
 
 pardon^ parson, but that villain always leaves the door ajar 
 after him/' 
 
 The good pastor bowed gravely. And the major com- 
 pleted his toilet by the time the servant returned and 
 reported the carriage ready. 
 
 It was dark as pitch when they emerged from the hall- 
 door out into the front portico, before which nothing could 
 be seen but two red bull's eyes of the carriage lanterns, and 
 nothing heard but the dissatisfied whinnying and pawing of 
 the horses. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE MASKS. 
 
 " What are these? 
 So withered and so wild in their attire 
 That look not like th' inhabitants of earth 
 And yet are on't ?" — Macbeth. 
 
 To THE Devil's Punch Bowl " — was the order given by 
 Old Hurricane as he followed the minister into the carriage. 
 And now, sir/' he continued, addressing his companion, 
 I think you had better repeat that part of the church 
 litany that prays to be delivered from battle, murder, and 
 sadden death ;' for if we should be so lucky as to escape 
 Black Donald and his gang, we shall have at least an equal 
 chance of being upset in the darkness of these dreadful 
 mountains.^' 
 
 ^' A pair of saddle-mules would have been a safer con- 
 veyance, certainly,'^ said the minister. 
 
 Old Hurricane knevv' that, but though a great sensualist, 
 he was a brave man, and so he had rather risk his life in a 
 close carriage than suffer cold upon a sure-footed mule's 
 back. 
 
20 
 
 THE MASKS. 
 
 Only by previous knowledge of tlie route could any one 
 have told the way the carriage went. Old Hurricane and 
 the minister both knew that they drove, lumbering, over the 
 rough road leading by serpentine windings down that rug- 
 ged fall of ground to the river^s bank, and that then turn- 
 ing to the left by a short bend, they passed in behind that 
 range of horse-shoe rocks that sheltered Hurricane Hall — 
 thus, as it were, doubling their own road. Beneath thrit 
 range of rocks, and between it and another range, there was 
 an awful abyss or chasm of cleft, torn and jagged rocks, 
 opening as it were from the bowels of the earth, in the shape 
 of a mammoth bowl, in the bottom of which, almost invisible 
 from its great depth, seethed and boiled a mass of dark 
 water of what seemed to be a lost river or a subterranean 
 spring. This terrific phenomenon was called the DeviFs 
 Punch Bowl. 
 
 Not far from the brink of this awful abyss, and close 
 behind the horse-shoe range of rocks, stood an humble log- 
 cabin, occupied by an old free negro, who picked up a scanty 
 living by telling fortunes and showing the way to the Punch 
 Bowl. Her cabin went by name of the Witches Hut — or old 
 Hat^s cabin. A short distance from Hat's cabin the road 
 became impassable, and the travelers got out, and preceded 
 by the coachman bearing the lantern, struggled along on 
 foot through the drifted snow and against the buffeting 
 wind and sleet to where a faint light guided them to the 
 house. 
 
 The pastor knocked. The door was immediately 
 opened by a negro, whose sex from the strange anomalous 
 costume it was difficult to guess. The tall form was rigged 
 out first in a long, red, cloth petticoat, above which was 
 buttoned a blue cloth surtout. A man's old black beaver 
 hat sat upon the strange head and completed this odd 
 attire. 
 
 " Well, Hat, how is your patient 't" inquired the pastor, 
 as he entered, preceding the magistrate. 
 
THE MASKS. 
 
 21 
 
 You vrill see, sir/*' repliel rlie old woman. 
 The two Tisitors looked around the dimly-lighted, mis- 
 erable room, in one corner of which stood a low bed^ upon 
 which lay extended the form of an old^ feeble^ and gray- 
 haired woman. 
 
 ''How are you, my poor soul, and what can I do for 
 you nov,- I am here ?'' inquired Old Hurricane, who in the 
 actual presence of suffering, was not utterly without pity. 
 You are a magistrate inquired the dying woman. 
 Yes, my poor soul.''^ 
 
 And qualified to administer an oath and take your 
 deposition," said the minister. 
 
 "Will it be legal — will it be evidence in a cottrt of 
 law asked the woman, lifting her dim eyes to the major. 
 
 Certainly, my poor soul I certainly," said the latter, 
 who, by the way, would have said anything to soothe her. 
 
 Send everyone but yourself from the room." 
 
 What, my good soul, send the parson out in the 
 storm ? That will never do ? TTon't it be just as well to 
 let him go up in the corner yonder ?" 
 
 Xo ! Yoii will repent it unless this communication 
 is strictly private." 
 
 ^^But — my good soul, if it is to be used in a court of 
 law ?" 
 
 That will be according to your own discretion !" 
 
 My dear parson," said Old Hurricane, going to the 
 minister, would you be so good as to retire ?" 
 
 There is a fire in the woodshed, master," said Hat, 
 leading the way. 
 
 iSTow, my good soul, now ! You want first to be put 
 upon your oath ?" 
 
 Yes, sir." 
 
 The old man drew from his great coat pocket a minia- 
 ture copy of the Scriptures, and with the usual formalities 
 administered the oath. 
 
 ''Now then, my good soul, begin — 'the truth, the 
 
22 
 
 THE MASKS. 
 
 wliole trutli^ and nothing but tlie trutli ' you know. But- 
 first^ your name V 
 
 ^' Is it possible you don't know me^ master ?" 
 
 " Hot I, in faith V 
 
 ''¥oY the love of Heaven, look at me and try to recol- 
 lect me, sir ! It is necessary some one in authority should 
 be able to know me, " said the woman, raising her haggard 
 eyes to the face of her yisitor. 
 
 The old man adjusted his spectacles and gaye her a 
 scrutinizing look, exclaiming at intervals : 
 
 Lord bless my soul ! it is ! it aint ! it must ! it can't 
 be ! Granny Grewell, the — the — tlie — midwife that disap- 
 peared from here some twelve or thirteen years ago \" 
 
 " Yes, master, I am N'ancy Grewell, the ladies' nurse 
 who vanished from sight so mysteriously some thirteen 
 years ago !" replied the woman. 
 
 Heaven help our hearts ! And for what crime was it 
 you ran away ? Come — make a clean breast of it, woman. 
 You have nothing to fear in doing so, for you are past the 
 arm of earthly law now !" 
 I know it, master." 
 
 And the best way to prepare to meet the Divine Judge 
 is to make all the reiDaration that you can by a full confes- 
 sion !" 
 
 " I know it, sir, — if I had committed a crime ; but I 
 have committed no crime, neither did I run away V 
 
 " What ? what? what ?— What was it then ? Remem- 
 ber, witness, you are on your oath ?" 
 
 '^1 know that, sir, and I will tell the truth; but it 
 must be in my own way." 
 
 At this moment a violent blast of wind and hail roared 
 down the mountain side and rattled against the walls, 
 shaking the witch's hut, as if it would have shaken it 
 about their ears. 
 
 It was a proper overture to the tale that was about to 
 be told. Conversation was impossible until the storm 
 
THE MASKS. 
 
 23 
 
 raved past and was heard dying in deep, reyerberating 
 echoes from the depths of the Devil's Punch Bowl. 
 
 '^It is some thirteen years ago/*' began Granny Gre- 
 well, ''^upon just such a night of storm as this, that I was 
 mounted on my old mule Molly, with my saddle-bags full 
 of dried yarbs, and stilled waters and sich, as I alius car- 
 ried when I was out 'tendin' on the sick. I was on my 
 way a-going to see a lady as I was sent for to tend. 
 
 *^\Yell, master ! I'm not 'shamed to say, as I never was 
 afraid of man, beast, nor sperrit ! and never stopped at 
 going out at all hours of the night, through the most lone- 
 some roads, if so be I was called upon so to do ! Still I 
 must say that jest as me and Molly my mule got into that 
 deep, thick, lonesome woods as stands round the old Hid- 
 den House in the hollow I did feel queerish ; 'case it was 
 the dead hour of the night, and it was said how strange 
 things were seen and hearn, yes, and done too, in that 
 dark, deep, lonesome place ! I seen how even m}' mule 
 ^lolly felt qneer too, by the way she stuck up her ears, stiff 
 as quills. So, partly to keep up my own spirits, and 
 partly to 'courage her, says I, ^ Molly,' says I, ^ what are 
 ye afeard on ? Be a man Molly !' But Molly stepped out 
 cautious, and pricked up her long ears all the same. 
 
 ^^Well, master, it was so dark I couldn't see a yard 
 past Molly's ears, and the path was so narrow and the 
 bushes so thick we could hardly get along ! but just as we 
 came to that little creek as they calls the Spout, cause the 
 water jumps and jets along till it empties into the Punch 
 Bowl, and just as Molly was cautiously putting her fore- 
 foot into the water, out starts two men from the bushes 
 and seizes poor Molly's bridle !" 
 
 Good heaven !"' exclaimed Major Warfield. 
 Well, master, before I could cry out one of them 
 willians seized me by the scruff of my neck, and with his 
 other hand upon my mouth, he says : 
 
 " 'Be silent, you old fool, or I'll blow your brains out !" 
 
24 
 
 THE MASKS. 
 
 " And then, master, I saw for tlie first time that their 
 faces tvere covered over with Uach crape. I couldn't a- 
 screamed if they'd let me ! for my breath was gone and my 
 senses where going along with 'em from the fear that was 
 on me. 
 
 '' 'Don't struggle; come along quietly and you shall 
 not be hurt/ says the man as had spoke before. 
 
 " Struggle ! I couldn't a-strnggled to a-saved my 
 soul ! I couldn't speak ! I couldn't breathe ! I liked to 
 have a-dropped right offen Molly's back. One on 'em 
 says, says he : 
 
 ' Giye her some brandy !' And 'tother takes out a 
 flask and puts it to my lips and says, says he : 
 ' Here drink this.' 
 
 ''Well, master, as he had me still by the scruff o' the 
 neck I couldn't do no other ways but o-pen my mouth and 
 drink it. And as soon as I took a swallow my breath come 
 back and my speech. 
 
 " 'And oh, gentlemen,' says I, * ef it's your money or 
 your life," you mean, I haint it about me ! 'Deed 'clare to 
 the Lord-a-mighty I haint ! It's wrapped up in an old cot- 
 ton glove in a hole in the plastering in the chimney-corner 
 at home, and ef you'll spare my life, you can go there and 
 get it,' says I. 
 
 " *' You old blockhead,' says they, ' we want neither one 
 nor 'tother ! Come along quietly and you shall receive no 
 harm. But at the first cry, "or attempt to escape — this 
 shall stop you !' And with that the willain held the muz- 
 zle of a pistol so nigh to my nose that I smelt brimstone, 
 while 'tother one bound a silk hankercher 'round my eyes, 
 and then took poor Molly's bridle and led her along. I 
 couldn't see, in course, and I dassint breathe for fear 'o the 
 pistol. But I said my prayers to myself all the time. 
 
 "Well, master, they led the mule on down the path 
 until we comcd to a place wide enough to tun;, when they 
 turned us 'round and led ns back outen the wood, and then 
 
THE MASKS. 
 
 25 
 
 round and rounds and up and down, and cross ways and 
 length ways, as ef they didn^t want me to find where they 
 were taking me. 
 
 "Well, sir, when they'd walked about in this 'fused 
 way, leadin' of the mule about a mile, I knew we was in 
 the woods again — the very same woods and the very same 
 path — I knowed by the feel of the place and the sound of 
 the bushes, as we hit up against them each side, and also 
 by the rumbling of the Spout as it tumbled along toward 
 the Punch Bowl. We went down, and down and down, 
 and lower and lower and lower, until we got right down in 
 the bottom of that hollow. 
 
 " Then we stopped. A gate was opened. I put up my 
 hand to raise the handkerchief and see where I was ; but 
 just at that minute I felt the muzzle o' the pistol like a 
 ring of ice right ag'in' my right temple, and the willain 
 growling into my ear : 
 
 " 'If you do r 
 
 " But I didn't — I dropped my hand down as if I had 
 been shot, and afore I had seen anjrthing, either. So we 
 went through the gate and up a gravelly walk — I knew it 
 by the crackling of the gravel under Molly's feet — and 
 stopped at a horse-block, where one o' them willains lifted 
 me off. I put up my hand again. 
 
 'Do if you dare/ says t'other one, with the muzzle of 
 the pistol at my head. 
 
 "I dropped my hand like lead. So they lead me on a 
 little way, and then up some steps I counted them to my- 
 self as I went along. They were six. You see, master, I 
 took all this pains to know the house again. Then they 
 opened a door that opened in the middle. Then they went 
 along a passage and up more stairs — there was ten and a 
 turn, and then ten more. Then along another passage, 
 and up another flight of stairs just like the first. Then 
 along another passage and up a third flight of stairs. They 
 was alike. 
 
26 
 
 THE MASKS. 
 
 Well, sir, here we was at the top o' the house. One 
 o^ them willains opened a door on the left side, and toother 
 said: 
 
 ^ There — go in and do your duty and pushed me 
 through the door, and shut and locked it on me. Good 
 gracious, sir, how scared I was ! I slipped off the silk 
 handkercher, and ^feared as I was, I didn't forget to put it 
 in my bosom. 
 
 ^'^ Then I looked about me. Eight afore me on the hearth 
 was a little weeny taper burning, that showed I was in a 
 great big garret with sloping walls. At one end two deep 
 dormer windows, and a black walnut bureau standing be- 
 tween them. At t'other end a great tester bedstead with 
 dark curtains. There was a dark carpet on the floor. And 
 with all there were so many dark objects and so many shad- 
 ows, and the little taper burned so dimly that I could hardly 
 tell t'other from which, or keep from breaking my nose 
 against things as I groped about. 
 
 And what was in this room for to do ? I couldn't even 
 form an idee. But presently my blood ran cold to hear a 
 groan from behind the curtains ! then another ! and another! 
 then a cry as if some child in mortal agony, saying ; 
 ^ For tliG love of Heaven, save me r 
 
 " I ran to the bed and dropped the curtains, and liked 
 to have fainted at what I saw !" 
 
 And what did you see ?" asked the magistrate. 
 
 '^Master, behind those dark curtains I saw a young 
 creature tossing about on the bed, flinging her fair and 
 beautiful arms about, and tearing wildly at the fine lace 
 that trimed her night-dress. But, master, that wasn't what 
 almost made me faint — it was that her right hand was seived 
 up in Hack crape, and her luhole face and head completely 
 covered with Uach crape, draiun doiun and fastened securely 
 around her throat, leaving only a small slit at the lips and 
 nose to Ireathe through !" 
 
THE MASKS. 
 
 27 
 
 ^^Wliatl take care, woman! rememTDer tliat yon are 
 upon your oath V said the magistrate. 
 
 I know it, master ! And as I hope to be forgiven, I 
 am telling you the truth/' 
 
 ''Qo on, then.'' 
 
 ^'^Well, sir, she was a young creature, scarcely past 
 childhood, if one might judge by her small size and soft, 
 rosy skin. I asked her to let me take that black crape 
 from her face and head, but she threw up her hands {ind 
 exclaimed : 
 
 ' Oil, no, no, no! for my life, no P 
 
 Well, master, I hardly know how to tell you what 
 followed — " said the old woman, hesitating in embarrass- 
 ment. 
 
 Go right straight on like a car of Juggernaut, woman! 
 Eemember — the whole truth V 
 
 Well, master in the next two hours there were twins 
 born ill that room — a boy and a girl ; the boy was dead, 
 the girl living. And all the time I heard the measured 
 tramping of one of them willians up and down the passage 
 outside of that room. Presently the steps stopped, and 
 there was a rap at the door. I went and listened, but did 
 not open it. 
 
 ' Is it all over ?' the voice asked. 
 
 Before I could answer, a cry from the bed caused me 
 to look round. There was the poor masked mother stretch- 
 ing out her white arms towards me in the most imploring 
 way. I hastened back to her. 
 " ' Tell Mm— 710 — no,' she said. 
 
 ' Have you got through ?' asked the man at the door, 
 rapping impatiently. 
 
 " ^ No, no,' said I, as directed. 
 
 He resumed his tramping up and down, and I went 
 back to my patient. She beckoned me to come close, and 
 whispered : 
 
 ' Save my cliild! the living one I mean I Mde her ! oh, 
 
28 
 
 THE MASKS. 
 
 hide her from Mm ! When lie demands the babe, give him 
 the poor little dead one — he cannot hurt that I Aad he 
 will not know there was another. Oh ! hide and save my 
 child !^ 
 
 Master, I was used to queer doings, but this was a lit- 
 tle the queerest. But if I was to conceal that second child 
 in order to save it, it was necessary to stop its mouth, for 
 it was squalling like a wild cat. So I took a vial of pare- 
 goric from my pocket and gave it a drop, and it went off to 
 sleep like an angel. I wrapped it up warm and lay it along 
 with my shawl and bonnet in a dark corner. Just then 
 the man rapped again. 
 
 " ' Come in, master,' said I. 
 
 ' No bring me the babe,' he said. 
 
 I took up the dead infant. Its mother kissed its 
 brow, and dropped tears upon its little cold face. And I 
 carried it to the man outside. 
 
 ' Is it asleep V the willain asked me 
 
 ' Yes, master'' — said I, as I put it, well wrapped up, 
 in his arms — ' very sound asleep.' 
 
 ^ So much the better,' said the knave, walking away. 
 
 I bolted the door and went back to my patient. With 
 her free hand she seized mine and pressed it to her lips, 
 then held up her left hand and pointed to the wedding ring 
 upon her third finger. 
 
 ' Draw it off and keep it,' she said, ' conceal the child 
 under your shawl, and take her with you when you go I 
 save her, and your fortune shall be made.' 
 
 ^^I declare, master, I hadn't time to think, before I 
 heard one of them wretches rap at the door. 
 
 ' Come ? get ready to go,' he said. 
 
 She also beckoned me. I hastened to her. With 
 eager whispers and imploring gestures she prayed me to 
 take her ring and save her child. 
 
 ' But you,' said I — ' who is to attend to you ?' 
 
 ' I do not know or care ! Save her P 
 
THE MASKS. 
 
 29 
 
 " The rapping continued. I ran to the corner where I 
 had left my things. I put on my bonnet, made a sort of 
 sling around my neck of the silk handkercher, opened the 
 large part of it like a hammock, and laid the little sleeping 
 babe there. Then I folded my big shawl around my breast, 
 and nobody any the wiser. The rapping was very impatient. 
 ' I am coming,^ said I. 
 " ^ Remember whispered the poor girl. 
 " ' I will/ssiid T, and went and opened the door. There 
 stood t'other willain, with his head covered with black 
 crape. I dreamt of nothing but black-headed demons for 
 six months afterwards. 
 
 ' Are you ready ?' says he 
 ' Yes, your worship,^ says I. 
 ' Come along, then.^ . 
 
 And binding another silk handkercher round my eyes, 
 Le led me along. 
 
 Instead of my mule, a carriage stood near the horse 
 block. 
 
 ' Get in,^ says he, holding the pistol to my ears by way 
 of argument. 
 
 I got in. He jumped up upon the driver's seat and 
 we drove like the wind. In another direction from that in 
 which we come, in course, for there was no carriage road 
 there. The carriage whirled along at such a rate it made 
 me quite giddy. At last it stopped again. The man in 
 the mask got down and opened the door. 
 " ' Where are you taking me ?' says I. 
 
 ' Be quiet,' says he, ' or ' And with that he pat 
 
 the pistol to my cheek, ordered me to get out, take the 
 bandage from my eyes, and walk before him. I did so, 
 and saw dimly that we were in a part of the country that I 
 was never at before. We were in a dark road tbrougli a 
 thick forest. On the left side of the road, in a clearing, 
 stood an old house ; a dim light was burning in a lower 
 window. 
 
so 
 
 THE MASKS. 
 
 ' Go on in there/ said tlie willain, putting the pistol 
 to the back of my head. As the door stood ajar, I went in, 
 to a narrow dark passage, the man all the time at my back. 
 He opened a door on the left side, and made me go into a 
 dark room. Just then the unfortunate child that had 
 been moving restlessly began to wail. Well it might, poor 
 starved thing. 
 
 ^What's that ? says the miscreant, under his breath, 
 and stopping short. 
 
 " 'It ain^t nothing, sir,' says I, and 'hush-h-h^ to the 
 baby. But the poor little wretch raised a squall. 
 
 " ^ What is the meaning of this T says he. ' Where did 
 that child come from. Why the demon don't you speak?' 
 And with that he seized me again by the scruff of the neck, 
 and shook me. 
 
 ^Oh, master ! for the love of heaven, don't,' says I, 
 ' this is only a poor unfortunet infant as its parents wanted 
 to get outen the way, and hired me to take care on. And 
 I have had it wrapped up under my shawl all the time 
 'cept when I was in your house, when I put it to sleep in 
 the corner.' 
 
 " ^ Humph — and you had that child concealed under 
 your shawl when I first stopped you in the woods ?' 
 ^ In course, master,' says 1. 
 '' ' Whose is it ?' 
 
 ''^Master,' says I, 'it's — it's a dead secret!' for I 
 hadn't another lie ready. 
 
 " He broke out into a rude, scornful laugh, and seemed 
 not half to believe me, and yet not to care about question- 
 ing me too closely. He made me sit down then in the 
 dark, and went out and turned the key on me. I wet my 
 finger with the paragoric and put it to the baby's lips to 
 quiet its pains of hunger. Then I heard a whispering in 
 the next room. E"ow, my eyesight never was good, but to 
 make up for it I believe I had the sharpest ears that ever 
 was, and I don't think anybody could have heard that 
 
THE MASKS. 
 
 31 
 
 whispering but me. I saw a little glimmer of light 
 throngh the chinks that showed me where the door was, 
 and so I creeped up to it, and put my ear to the keyhole. 
 Still they whispered so low that no ears could o^ heard 
 them but my sharp ones. The first words I heard good, 
 was a grumbling Yoice asking : 
 ^^^How old r 
 
 " ^ Fifty — more or less, but strong, active, a good 
 nurse, and a very light mulatto,^ says my willian's yoice. 
 
 ^ Hum — too old,^ says the other. 
 
 ' But I will throw the child in.' 
 " A low, crackling laugh the only answer, 
 
 ^ You mean tliat would be only a bother. Well, I 
 want to get rid of the pair of them,-' said my willian, ^so 
 name the price you are willing to give."' 
 
 ^ Cap^n, you and me have had too many transactions 
 together to make any flummery about this. You want to 
 to get shet o' them pair, /hain't no objections to turning 
 an honest penny. So jest make out the papers — bill o' 
 sale o' the 'oman Kate, or whatsoever her name may be, 
 and the child, with any price you please, so it is only a 
 make-believe price ! and Til engage to take her away, and 
 make the most I can of them in the South — that won't be 
 much, seeing its only an old 'oman and child — scarcely a 
 fair profit on the expense o' takin' o' her out. Now, as 
 money's no object to you, Cap'n — ' 
 
 i Yery well, have your own way, only don't let that 
 woman escape and return, /or if you do — ' 
 
 " ' I understand, Cap'n ; but I reckon you needn't 
 threaten, for if you could blow me — why I would return 
 you the same favor,' said the other, raising his voice, and 
 laughing aloud. 
 
 ' Be quiet, fool, or come away farther — here.' And 
 the two willians moved out of even my hearing. 
 
 I should o' been uneasy, master, if it hadn't been the 
 
32 
 
 THE MASKS. 
 
 'omaii they were talking about was named Kate, and that 
 v/arn^t my name, which were well beknown to be !N"ancy. 
 
 ' Presently I heard the carriage drive away. And 
 almost immediately after the door was unlocked, and a 
 great, big, black-bearded and black-headed beast of a ruff- 
 ian came in, and says he: 
 
 ^ Well, my woman, have you had any supper ?' 
 
 ' No," said I, ^ I hain't ; and ef Fm to stay here any 
 length of time, Fd be obleeged to you to let me have some 
 hot water and milk to make pap for this perishing baby.'' 
 
 * Follow me," says he. 
 "And he took me into the kitchen at the back of the 
 house, where there was a fire in the fireplace, and a cup- 
 board with all that I needed. Well, sir, not to tire you, I 
 made a nursing bottle for the baby, and fed it. And then 
 I got something for my own supper, or rather, breakfast, 
 for it was now near the dawn of day. Well, sir, I thought 
 I would try to get out and look about myself, to see what 
 the neighborhood looked like by daylight ; but when I 
 tried the door I found myself locked up, a close prisoner. 
 I looked out of the window, and saw nothing but a little 
 back yard, closed in by the woods. I tried to raise the sash, 
 but it was nailed down. The black-headed monster came 
 in just about that minute, and seeing what I was a-doing of, 
 says he : 
 
 " ' Stop that.' 
 
 " ' What am I stopped here for ?' says I ; ' a free 'oman,' 
 says I, * a-Vented of going about her own business ?' says 1. 
 
 But he only laughed a loud, crackling, scornful laugh, 
 and went out, turning the key after him. 
 
 " A little after sunrise, an old, dried-up, spiteful-look- 
 ing hag of a woman came in, and began to get breakfast. 
 " ^ What am I kept here for V says I to her. 
 
 " But she took no notice at all ; nor could I get so much 
 as a single word outen her. In fact, master, the little 
 'oman was deaf an' dumb. 
 
THE MASKS. 
 
 33 
 
 " Well, sir, to be short, I was kept in that place all day 
 long, and when night come I was druv into a shay at the 
 point of the pistol, and rattled along as fast as the horses 
 could gallop over a road as I knew nothing of. We 
 changed horses wunsfc or twict, and just about the dawn of 
 day we come to a broad river with a vessel laying to, not far 
 from the shore. 
 
 " As soon as the shay druv down on the sands, the wil- 
 lain as had run away with me puts a pipe to his willainous 
 mouth and blows like mad. Somebody else blowed back 
 from the vessel. Then a boat was put off and rowed 
 ashore. I was forced to get into it and was follered by 
 the willain. We was rowed to the vessel, and I was druv 
 up the ladder on to the decks. And there, master, right 
 afore my own looking eyes, me and the baby was traded off 
 to the captain ! It was no use for me to ^splain gr ^spostu- 
 late ! I wan^t bT.ieved. The willain as had stole me got 
 back into the boat and went ashore. And I saw him get 
 into the shay and drive away. It was no use for me to 
 howl and cry, though I did both, for I couldn't even hear 
 myself for the swearing of the captain and the noise of the 
 crew, as they was a gettin' of the vessel under way. Well, 
 sir, we sailed down that river and out to sea. 
 
 " Now, sir, come a strange providence, which the very 
 thoughts of it might convert a heathen ! We had been to 
 sea about five days when a dreadful storm riz. Oh, mas- 
 ter ! the inky blackness of the sky, the roaring of the wind, 
 the raging of the sea, the leaping of the waves, and the 
 rocking of that vessel — and every once in a while, sea and 
 ship all ablaze with the blinding lightning — was a thing to 
 see, not to hear tell of ! I tell you, marster, that looked 
 like the wrath of God ! And then the cursing and swear- 
 ing and bawling of the captain and the crew, as they were 
 a-takin' in of sail, was enough to raise one's hair on their 
 head I I hugged the baby to my breast — and went to 
 praying as hard as ever I could pray. 
 
34: THE MASKS. 
 
 Presently I felt an awful shock, as if heaven and 
 eartli had come together, and then everybody screaming, 
 * She's struck ! She's struck V I felt the vessel trembling 
 like a live creetur, and the water a pouriug in everywhere. 
 I hugged the babe and scrambled up the companion-way to 
 the deck. It was pitch dark, and I heard every man rush= 
 ing towards one side of the vessel. 
 
 A flash of lightning, that made everything as bright as 
 day again, showed me that they were all taking to the 
 boat. I rushed after, calling to them to save me and the 
 baby. But no one seemed to hear me ; they were all too 
 busy trying to save themselves and keep others out of the 
 boat, and cursing and swearing and hollering that there 
 was no more room, that the boat would be swamped, and 
 so on. The end was, that all who could crowd into the 
 boat did so. And me and the baby and a poor sailor lad 
 and the black cook were left behind to perish. 
 
 ^''But, marster, as it turned out, we as was left to die 
 were the only ones saved. We watched after that boat 
 with longing eyes, though we could only see it when the 
 lightning flashed. And every time we saw it, it was 
 further off. At last, marster, a flash of lightning showed 
 us the boat as far off as ever we could see her, capsisized 
 and beaten hither and thither by tlie wild waves — its crew 
 had perished. 
 
 Marster, as soon as the sea had swallowed up that 
 wicked captain and crew, the wind died away, the waves 
 fell, and the storm lulled — just as if it had done what it 
 was sent to do and was satisfied. The wreck — where we 
 poor forlorn ones stood — the wreck that had shivered and 
 irembied with every wave that struck it — until we had 
 feared it would break up every minnte, became still and 
 firm on its sand-bar, as a house on dry land. 
 
 '^Daylight came at last. And a little after sunrise we 
 saw a sail bearing down upon us. We could not signal the 
 sail, but by the mercy of Providence, she saw us and lay 
 
S5 
 
 to, and sent oit a boat, and picked us up and took us on 
 board — me and the baby, and the cook and the sailor lad. 
 
 ^' It was a foreign wessel, and we could not understand 
 a word they said, nor they us. All we could do was by 
 signs. But they were very good to us, dried our clothes 
 and gaye us breakfast, and made us lie down and rest. 
 And then put about and continued their course. The 
 sailor lad — Herbert Grreyson — soon found out and told me 
 they were bound for New York. And, in fact, marster, 
 in about ten days we made that port. 
 
 ^' When the ship anchored below the Battery, the 
 officers and passengers made me up a little bundle of 
 clothes and a little purse of money, and put me ashore, 
 and there I was in a strange city, so bewildered I didn^t 
 know Y/hich way to turn. While I was a-standing there, 
 in danger of being run over by the omnibuses, the sailor- 
 boy came to my side and told me that he and the cook w^as 
 gwine to engage on board of another ^Merican wessel, and 
 axed me what I was gwine to do. I told him how I didn^t 
 know what I should do. Then he said heM show me 
 where I could go and stay all night, and so he took me 
 into a little by-street to a poor-looking house, where the 
 people took lodgers, and there he left me to go aboard his 
 ship. As 1)6 went away he advised me to take care of my 
 money, and try to get a servant^s place. 
 
 Well, marster, I aint a gwine to bother you with tell- 
 ing you of how I toiled and struggled along in that great 
 city — fiist living out as a servant, and afterwards renting a 
 room and taking in washing and ironing — aye ! how I 
 toiled and struggled — for — ton — long — years, hoping for 
 the time to come when I should be able to return to this 
 neighborhood, where I was known, and expose the evil 
 deeds of them willains. And for this cause I lived on 
 toiling and struggling, and laying up money, penny by 
 penny. Sometimes I was fool enough to tell my story in 
 the hopes of getting pity and help — but telling my story 
 
36 
 
 THE MASKS. 
 
 always made it worse for me ! some thought me crazy and 
 others thought me deceitful, which is not to be wondered 
 at, for I was a stranger, and my adventures were indeed 
 beyond belief. 
 
 " No one ever helped me but the lad Herbert Greyson. 
 Whenever he came from sea, he sought me out, and made 
 a little present to me or Cap. 
 
 Cap, marster, was Capitol a, the child. The reason I 
 gave her that name was because on that ring I had drawn 
 from the masked mother's hand were the two names — 
 Eugene — Capitola. 
 
 Well, marster, the last time Herbert Greyson came 
 home, he gave me five dollars, and that, with what I had 
 saved, was enough to pay my passage to Norfolk. 
 
 I left my little Cap in the care of the people of the 
 house — she was big enough to pay for her keep in work — 
 and I took passage for Norfolk. When I got there I fell 
 ill, spent all my money, and was at last taken to the poor- 
 house. Six months passed away before I was discharged. 
 And then six more before I had earned and saved money 
 enough to pay my way on here. 
 
 reached here three days ago, and found a wheat- 
 field growing where my cottage-fire used to burn, and all 
 my old cronies dead, all except Old Hat, who has received 
 and given me shelter. Sir, my story is done — make what 
 you can of it said the invalid^ sinking down in her bed 
 as if utterly exhausted. 
 
 Old Hurricane, whose countenance had expressed 
 emotions as powerful as they were various while listening 
 to this tale, now arose, stepped cautiously to the door, 
 drew the bolt, and coming back bent his head and asked : 
 
 " What more of the child r 
 
 '^Cap, sir. I have not heard a word of Cap since I 
 left her to try to find out her friends. But any one inter- 
 ested in her might inquire for her at Mrs. Simmons's, 
 laundress. No. 8 Rag Alley.'' 
 
THE HASZ3.. 
 
 37 
 
 Yon say the names npon that ring were — Engene— 
 Capitola 
 
 Yes^ sir^ they Tvere.''' 
 
 Have you that ring about you 
 
 Iso, master. I thought it was best in case of acci- 
 dents to leave it with the child.'" 
 
 " Hare you told he?' any paifc of this strange history ?" 
 l^Oy master^ nor hinted it ; she was too young for such 
 a confidence/-' 
 
 You were right ! Had she any mark about her person 
 by which she could be identified 
 
 ^'YeS; master^ a very strange one. In the middle of 
 her left palm was the perfect image of a crimson hand, 
 about half -an inch in length. There was also another. 
 Herbert Greyson, to please me, marked upon her fore-arm 
 in Indian ink her name and birthday — ^ Capitola^ Oct. 
 31st, 1832.""" 
 
 Eight ! Xow tell me, my good soul, do you know, 
 from what you were enabled to observe, what house that 
 was where Capitola was born ?"" 
 
 '^I am an my oath I No, sir, I do not Tcnoiu — but "' 
 
 " You suspect ?"" 
 
 The woman nodded. 
 
 '^It was — "" said old Hurricane, stooping and whisper- 
 ing a name that was heard by no one but the sick woman. 
 She nodded again, with a look of intense meaning. 
 Does your old hostess here. Hat, know or suspect any- 
 thing of this story ?"" inquired IMajor Warfield. 
 
 Xot a word I Xo soul but yourself has heard it I"" 
 That is right I Still be discreet ! If you vrould have 
 the wicked punished and the innocent protected, be silent 
 and wary. Have no anxiety about the girl ! What man 
 can do for her. will I do, and quickly I And now good crea- 
 ture, day is actually dawning. You must seek repose. 
 And I must call the parson in and return home. I will send 
 Mrs. Condiment over with food, wine, medicine, elothing, 
 
8S 
 
 and every comfort that your condition requires/' said old 
 Hurricane, rising, and calling in the clergyman, with whom 
 he soon after left the hut for home. 
 
 They reached Hurricane Hall in time for an early break- 
 fast, which the astonished housekeeper had prepared, and 
 for which their night's adventures had certainly given them 
 a good appetite. 
 
 Major Warfield kept his word, and as soon as breakfast 
 was over he dispatched Mrs. Condiment Avith a carriage 
 filled with provisions for the sick woman. But they were 
 not needed. In a couple of hours the housekeeper returned 
 with the intelligence that the old nurse was dead. The 
 false strength of mental excitement that had enabled her to 
 tell so long and dreadful a tale, had been the last flaring up 
 of the flame of life, that almost immediately went out. 
 
 I am not sorry, upon the whole, for now I shall have 
 the game in my own hands V muttered old Hurricane to 
 himself — ^^Ah ! Gabrielle Le Noir ! better you had cast 
 yourself down from the highest rock of this range and been 
 dashed to pieces below, than liave thus fallen into my 
 power I" 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE QUEST. 
 
 Then did Sir Knight abandon dwelling, 
 
 And out he rode. — Hudibras. 
 
 PuKSUANT to the orders of Major Warfield, the corpse 
 of the old midwife was the next day after her decease 
 brought over and quietly interred in the family graveyard 
 of Hurricane Hall. 
 
 And then Major Warfield astounded his household by 
 
THE QUEST. 
 
 39 
 
 giving orders to his houskeeper and his body-servant to 
 prepare his wardrobe and pack his trunks for a long jour^ 
 ney to the north. 
 
 What can the major be thinking of, to be setting out 
 for the north at this time of the year exclaimed good 
 little Mrs. Condiment, as she picked over her employer's 
 shirts, selecting the newest and warmest to be done up for 
 the occasion. 
 
 Lord Almighty only knows ; but ■'pears to me 
 marster's never been right in his head-piece since Hallow- 
 eve night, when he took that ride to the Witch's Hut," 
 replied Wool, who, with brush and sponge, was engaged in 
 rejuvenating his masters outer-garments. 
 
 But let his family wonder as they would, Old Hurri- 
 cane kept his own counsel — only just as he was going 
 away, lest mystery should lead to investigation, and that to 
 discovery, the old man gave out that he was going north to 
 invest capital in bank-stock, and so, quite unattended, he 
 departed. 
 
 His servant. Wool, indeed, accompanied him as far as 
 Tip-top, the little hamlet on the mountain at which he 
 was to meet the eastern stage; but there, having seen his 
 master comfortably deposited in the inside of the coach, 
 and the luggage safely stowed in the boot. Wool was 
 ordered to return with the carriage. And Major Warfield 
 proceeded on his journey alone. This also caused much 
 speculation in the family. 
 
 Who's gwine to make his punch and warm his bed 
 and put his slippers on the hearth and hang his gown to de 
 fire — that's what / want to know cried the grieved and 
 indignant Wool. 
 
 Oh, the waiters at the taverns where he stops can do 
 that for him,'' said Mrs. Condiment. 
 
 " No, they can't, nuther ! they don't know his ways ! 
 they don't know nuffin' 'bout him ! I 'clare, I think our 
 old marse done gone clean crazy ! I shouldn't be s'prised 
 
'40 
 
 THE QUEST. 
 
 he'd gone off to de norf to get married, and was to bring 
 home a young wife we-dem V 
 
 Tut ! tut ! tut ! such talk !— that will never do V 
 exclaimed the deeply-shocked Mrs. Condiment. 
 
 " Werry well ! all I say is, * Dem as libs longest will 
 see most V* said Wool, shaking his white head. After 
 which undeniable apothegm the conversation came to a 
 stand. 
 
 Meanwhile, Old Hurricane pursued his journey — a 
 lumbering, old-fashioned stage-coach ride — across the moun- 
 tains, creeping a snaiFs crawl up one side of the precipice 
 and clattering thunderously down the other at a headlong 
 speed that pitched the back-seat passengers into the bosoms 
 of the- front ones, and threatened even to cast the coach over 
 the heads of the horses. Three days and nights of such 
 rugged riding brought the traveler to Washington City, 
 where he rested one night, and then took the cars for New 
 York. He rested another night in Philadelphia, resumed 
 his journey by the first train in the morning, and reached 
 New York about noon. 
 
 The crowd, the noise, the hurry and confusion at the 
 wharf almost drove this irascible old gentleman mad ! 
 No, confound you 
 
 I'll see your neck stretched first, you villain V' 
 ''Out of my way or I'll break your head, sirrah V' were 
 some of his responses to the solicitous attentions of cabman 
 and porters. At length, taking up his heavy carpet-bag in 
 both hands, Old Hurricane began to lay about him, with 
 such effect that he speedily cleared a passage for himself 
 through the crowd. Then addressing a coachman who had 
 not offended, by speaking first, he said : 
 
 *'Here, sir ! Here are my checks ! Go get my luggagd 
 and take it to the Astor House. Hand the clerk this card, 
 and tell him I want a good room, well warmed. I shall 
 take a walk around the city before going. And hark ye I 
 
OAPITOLA. 
 
 41 
 
 If one of my trunks is missing, I'll have you hanged, you 
 rogue I" 
 
 " Breach of trust isn't a banging matter in jSTew York, 
 your honor," laughed the hack-man, as he touched his hat 
 and hurried off towards the crowd collected around the 
 baggage car. 
 
 Old Hurricane made a step or two, as if he would bave 
 pursued and punished the flippancy of the man ; bat finally 
 thought better of it, picked up his portmanteau and walked 
 up the street slowly, with frequent pauses and bewildered 
 looks, as though he had forgotten liis directions, or lost his 
 way, and yet hesitated to inquire of any one for the obscure 
 little alley in which he had been told to look for his 
 treasure. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 CAPITOLA. 
 
 " Her sex a page's dress belied, 
 Obscured her charms, but could not hide." — ScoW. 
 
 Please, sir, do you w^ant your carpet-bag carried P' 
 asked a voice near. 
 
 Old Hurricane looked around him with a puzzled air, 
 for he thought that a young girl had made this offer, so 
 soft and clear were the notes of the voice that spoke. 
 
 It was I, sir ! here I am, at your's and everybody's 
 service, sir V said the same voice. 
 
 And turning. Old Harricane saw sitting astride a pile 
 of boxes at the corner store, a very ragged lad, some thir- 
 teen years of age. 
 
 Good gracious thought Old Hurricane, as he gazed 
 upon the -boy, "this must be crown-prince and heir-appar- 
 ent to the ' king of shreds and patches/ " 
 
42 
 
 OAPlTOLA. 
 
 ^^Well, old gent., you^ll know me next time, that's 
 
 certain !" said the lad, returning the look with interest. 
 
 It is probable Old Hurricane did not hear this irreve- 
 rent speech, for he continued to gaze with pity and dismay 
 upon the ragamuffin before him. He was a handsome 
 boy, too, notwithstanding the deplorable state of his ward- 
 robe. Thick, clustering curls of jet black hair fell in tan- 
 gled disorder around a forehead broad, white, and smooth 
 as that of a girl ; slender and quaintly-arched black eye- 
 brows played above a pair of mischievous, dark grey eyes, 
 that sparkled beneath the shade of long, thick, black 
 lashes ; a little turned-up nose, and red, pouting lips, com- 
 pleted the character of a countenance full of fun, frolic, 
 spirit, and courage. 
 
 Well, governor, if you've looked long enough, maybe 
 you'll take me into service said the lad, winking to a 
 group of his fellow newsboys that had gathered at the 
 corner. 
 
 Dear ! dear ! dear ! he looks as if he had never in his 
 life seen soap and water or a suit of whole clothes V ejacu- 
 lated the old gentleman ; adding, kindly, — Yes, I reckon 
 I will give you the job, my son 
 
 His son! Oh, crickey, do you hear that, fellows? 
 His son I Oh, Lor' ! my governor's turned up at last. 
 I'm his son ! oh, gemini ! But what did I tell you ? I 
 always had a sort of impression that I fnust have had a 
 father in some former period of my life ; and, behold, here 
 he is ! Who knows but I might have had a mother also ? 
 But that isn't likely. Still, I'll ask him : — How's the old 
 woman, sir ?" said the news-boy, jumping off the boxes 
 and taking the carpet bag in his hand. 
 
 What are you talking about, you infatuated tatter- 
 demalion ? Come along ! If it weren't for pity, I'd have 
 you put in the pillory !" exclaimed Old Hurricane, shaking 
 his cane at the offender. 
 
CAPITOLA. 
 
 43 
 
 Thanky, sir ! I have not had a pillow under my 
 bead for a long time V 
 Silence^ ragamuffin 
 
 Just so, sir ! ^a dumb devil is better than a talking 
 one answered the lad, demurely, following his employer. 
 
 They went on some distance. Old Hurricane diligently 
 reading the names of the streets at the corners. Pre- 
 sently, he stopped again, bewildered, and after gazing 
 around himself for a few minutes, said : 
 
 Boy r 
 
 Yes, sir V 
 
 " Do you know such a place as Eag Alley, in Manillo 
 street r 
 
 Eag Alley, sir 
 
 Yes ; a sort of narrow, dark, musty place, with a row 
 of old, tumble-down tenements each side, where poor 
 wretches live all huddled up together, fifty in a house, eh ? 
 — I was told I couldn^t drive up it in a carriage, so I had 
 to walk ! Do you know such a place ?" 
 
 "Do / know such a place ! Do / know Eag Alley ? — 
 oh, my eye ! Oh, he ! he ! he I" 
 
 "What are you laughing at 7iozu, you miscellaneous 
 assortment of variegated pieces P' 
 
 " Oh ! oh, dear ! I was laughing to think how well I 
 knew Eag Alley. 
 
 " Humph ! you do look as if you were born and bred 
 there. 
 
 "But, sir, I wasn't. 
 
 " Humph ! how did you get into life, then 
 
 " I don't know, governor, unless I was raked up from a 
 gutter by some old woman in the rag-picking line," said 
 the newsboy, demurely. 
 
 " Humph ! I think that quite likely. But now, do 
 you say that you know where that alley is ?" 
 
 " Oh, don't set me oft again I" Oh, he, he, he I — yes, 
 iir, I know/' 
 
44 
 
 CAPITOLA. 
 
 " Well, tlien, show me the way, and don't be a fooV 
 
 " rd scorn to be it, sir. This is the way,"" said the lad, 
 taking the lead. 
 
 They walked on several squares, and then the boy 
 stopped, and pointing down a cross-street, said : 
 
 " There, governor, there you are 
 
 " There ! Where ? Why, that's a handsome street 
 said Old Hurricane, gazing up in admiration at the oppo- 
 site blocks of stately brown stone mansions. 
 
 That's it, hows'ever. That's Eag Alley. 'Taint 
 called Kag Alley now, though ! It's called Hifalutin Ter- 
 race ! Them tenements you talk of were pulled down 
 more'n a year ago, and these houses put up in their place," 
 said the newsboy. 
 
 Dear ! dear ! dear ! what changes ! And what 
 became of the poor tenants ?" asked Old Hurricane, gazing 
 in dismay at the inroads of improvements. 
 
 The tenants ? — poor wretches ! How do I know ? 
 Carted away, blown away, thrown away — with the other 
 rubbish — What became of the tenants 9 
 
 * Ask of the winds that far around 
 "With fragments strewed the sea'-ty 1 
 
 I heard that spouted at a school exhibition once, gov- 
 ernor," said the boy, demurely. 
 
 "Humph ! well, well, the trace is lost ! What shall I 
 do ? — put advertisements in all the daily papers, — apply 
 at the chief police office. Yes. I'll do botJi," muttered 
 Old Hurricane, to himself. Then, speaking out, he 
 called : 
 
 '^Boy I" 
 
 "Yes, sir. 
 
 " Call me a coach.'* 
 
 " Yes, sir." And the lad was off like an arrow to do 
 his bidding. 
 
 In a few moments the co^h i:ove up. The newsboy. 
 
OAPITOLA. 
 
 45 
 
 that was sitting beside the driver, jumped down, and 
 said : 
 
 Here it is, sir/' 
 
 Thank you, my son. Here is your fee,^^ said Old 
 Hurricane, putting a silver dollar into the lad^s hand. 
 
 " What ! Lor' ! It can't he ! but it is ! He must have 
 made a mistake I What if he did, 1 don't care. Yes, I do, 
 too, * Honor bright,' " exclaimed the newsboy, looking in 
 wonder and desire and sore t-emptation upon the largest 
 piece of money he had ever touched in his life. 
 Governor !" 
 
 '^Well, boy," said the old gentleman, with his feet upon 
 the steps of the coach. 
 
 "You've been and done and gone and give me a whole 
 dollar by mistake !" 
 
 " And why should you think it a mistake, you imper- 
 tinent monkey ?" 
 
 " Your honor didn't mean it I" 
 
 " Why not, you young rascal ? — of course I did. Take 
 it and be off with you !" said Old Hurricane, beginning to 
 ascend the steps. 
 
 "I'm a great mind to !" said the newsboy, still gazing on 
 the coin with satisfaction and desire ; " I'm a great mind 
 to ! but I wonH ! 'Taint fair. — Governor, I say !" 
 
 " What now, you troublesome fellow ?" 
 
 " Do stop a minute ! Don't tempt me too hard ! 'cause, 
 you see, I aint sure I could keep honest, if I was tempted 
 too hard." 
 
 "What do you mean now, you ridiculous little ape ?" 
 
 "I mean I know you're from the country, and don't 
 know no better, and I mustn't impose upon your ignor- 
 ance." 
 
 My ignorance, you impudent villain !" exclaimed the 
 old man, with rising wrath. 
 
 " Yes, governor ; you haint cut your eye teeth yet ! you 
 •iu^ up to snuff I you don^t know nothing I Why, this is 
 
46 
 
 CAPITOLA. 
 
 too much for toting a carpet-bag a half a dozen squares ! 
 and it's very well you fell in with a honest lad like me, tha 
 wouldn't impose on your innocence ! Bless you, the usua. 
 price isn't more'n a dime, or if you're rich and generous, a 
 
 shilling, but " 
 
 What the deuce do I care for the usual price, you — 
 you — you perfect prodigy of patches! — there, for the 
 Lord's sake, go get yourself a decent suit of clothes. 
 Drive on, coachman !" roared Old Hurricane, flinging an 
 eagle upon the sidewalk, and rolling oif in his cab. 
 
 " Poor, dear, old gentleman ! I wonder where his 
 heeper is ? How could he have got loose 9 Maybe I'd 
 better go and tell the police ! But then I don't know who 
 he is, or where he's gone. But he is very crazy, and I'm 
 afraid he'll fling away every cent of his money before his 
 friends can catch him ! I know what I'll do ! I'll go to 
 the stand and watch for the coach to come back, and ask 
 the driver what he has done with the poor, dear old fel- 
 low !" said the newsboy, picking up the gold coin, and 
 putting it into his pocket. And then he started, but with 
 an eye to business, singing out : 
 
 Herald ! TriehuuQ. ! J^c^prcss ! last account of the 
 orful accident — steamer ! etc., etc., etc.," selling his papers 
 as he went on to the coach stand. He found the coach- 
 man already there. And to his anxious inquiries as to the 
 sanity of the old gentleman, that Jehu replied : 
 
 Oh, bless your soul, crazy ? no ! no more'n you or I. 
 He's a real nob ! a real Virginian, F. F. V., with money 
 like the sands on the seashore. Keep the tin, hid^ — he 
 knowed what he was a-doin' on." 
 
 Oh ! it — it a'most scares me to have so much 
 money !" exclaimed the boy, half in delight, half in dis- 
 may ; '*but to-night I'll have a warm supper, and sleep in 
 a bed once more ! And to-morrow a new suit of clothes ! 
 So here goes — 
 
 Hersdd I — ^a;press-~full account — the horrible mur- 
 
THE DiSCOVEKY. 
 
 47 
 
 der — Bell street/^ etc., etc., etc., crying his papers until 
 he was out of hearing. 
 
 Never in his life had the newsboy felt so prosperous 
 and happy. ' 
 
 CHAPTEK V. 
 
 THE DISCOVEKY. 
 
 " And at the magistrate's command 
 They next undid the leathern band 
 
 That bound her tresses there, 
 And raised her felt hat from her head, 
 And down her slender form there spread 
 
 Black ringlets rich and rare." 
 
 Old Hurricane meanwhile dined at the public table at 
 the Astor, and afterwards went to his room, to rest, smoke 
 and ruminate. And he finished the evening by supping 
 and retiring to bed. 
 
 In the morning, after an early breakfast, he wrote a 
 dozen advertisements, and called a coach and rode around 
 to leave them with the various daily papers for immediate 
 publication. Then, to lose no time, he rode up to the 
 Kecorder's office to set the police upon the search. 
 
 As he was about to enter the front portal, he observed 
 the doorway and passage blocked up with even a larger 
 crowd than usual. 
 
 And seeing the coachman who had waited upon him the 
 previous day, he inquired of him — 
 What is the matter here ?' 
 
 Nothing, your honor, 'cept a boy tuk up for wearing 
 girls' clothes, or a girl took up for wearing boys', I dunno 
 which,'' said the man touching his hat. 
 
 Let me pass, then, I must speak to the chief of 
 
48 
 
 THE DiSCOVfiKY. 
 
 police/' said Old Hurricane, shoving his way into the 
 Eecorder's room. 
 
 This is not the ofi&ce of the chief, sir ; you will find 
 him on the other side of the hall/' said a by-stander. 
 
 But before Old Hurricane had gathered the sense of 
 these words, a sight within the office drew his steps 
 thither. Up before the Kecorder stood a lad of about 
 thirteen years, who, despite his smart new suit of gray cas- 
 inefc, his long rolling black ringlets, and his downcast and 
 blushing face, Old Hurricane immediately recognized as 
 his acquaintance of the preceding day, the saucy young 
 tatterdemalion. 
 
 Feeling sorry for the friendless boy, the old man impul- 
 sively went up to him and patted him on the shoulder, say 
 ing: 
 
 What ! in trouble, my lad ? never mind — never look 
 down I I'll warrant ye an honesfc lad from what I've seen 
 myself ! Come, come ! pluck up a spirit ! I'll see you 
 through, my lad 1" 
 
 * Lad! Lord bless your soul, sir, he's no more a lad 
 than you or I. The young rascal is a girl in boy's clothes, 
 sir !" said the officer who had the culprit in custody. 
 
 What — what — what!" exclaimed Old Hurricane, 
 gazing in consternation from the young prisoner to the 
 accuser ; what — what ! my newsboy, my saucy little prince 
 of patches, a girl in boy's clothes ! ! ! " 
 
 Yes, sir — a young scoundrel I I actually twigged him 
 selling papers at the Fulton Ferry this morning ! A little 
 rascal !" 
 
 "A girl in boy's clothes! A exclaimed Old 
 
 Hurricane, with his eyes nearly starting out of his head. 
 
 Just then the young culprit looked up in his face with 
 an expression half melancholy, half mischievous, that 
 appealed to the rugged heart of the old man. Turning 
 around to the policeman, he startled the whole office by 
 roaring out : 
 
THE DISCOVERY. 
 
 49 
 
 Girl is she, sir ? — then, demmy, sir ! whether a girl 
 in loy's clothes, or men^s clothes, or soldier^s clothes, or 
 sailor*s clothers, or, any clothes, or no clothes, sir ! treat 
 her with the delicacy due to womarihoodi, sir ! aye, and the 
 tenderness owed to cMldhoodi ! for she is but a bit of a poor, 
 friendless, motherless, fatherless cliild, lost and wandering 
 in your great Babylon ! No more hard words to her, sir — 
 or by the everlasting— — " 
 
 Order, put in the calm and dignified Recorder. 
 Old Hurricane, though his face was still purple, his 
 veins swollen and his eyeballs glaring with anger, imme- 
 diately recovered himself, turned and bowed to the Recorder 
 and said : 
 
 Yes, sir, I will keep order, if you'll make that brute of 
 a policeman reform his language." 
 
 And so saying, Old Hurricane subsided into a seat, 
 immediately behind the child, to watch the examination. 
 
 What'll they do with her, do you think ?" he inquired 
 of a by-stander. 
 
 " Send her up, in course.^' 
 
 " C5?f— where ?" 
 To Blackwell's Island — to the work'us, in course." 
 
 "To the ^^or^-house — Tier, that child 9 — the wretches I 
 IJm-m-m-me ! Oh-h-h-h groaned Old Hurricane, stoop- 
 ing and burying his shaggy, gray head in his great hands. 
 
 He felt his shoulder touched, and looking up saw that 
 the little prisoner had turned around, and was about to 
 speak to him. 
 
 Governor," said the same clear voice that he had even 
 at first supposed to belong to a girl — " Governor, don't you 
 keep on letting out that way ! You don't know nothing ! 
 You're in the Recorder's Court ! If you don't mind your 
 eye, they'll commit you for contempt !" 
 
 " Will they ? Then they'll do well, lad I lass, I mean, 
 I plead guilty to contempt. Send a child like you to 
 the 1 They shan't do it! Simply, they shan't do it! 
 
60 
 
 THE DISOOVEKY. 
 
 I — Major Warfield, of Virginia — tell you so, my boy — girl, 
 I mean V* 
 
 " But, you innocent old lion, instead of freeing me, 
 jovi'W ^ndi yourself ^Irai up between four walls, and very 
 narrow ones at that, / tell you ! You^ll think yourself in 
 a coffin ! Governor, they call it — The Tomhs I" whispered 
 the child. 
 
 Attention \" said the clerk. 
 
 The little prisoner turned and faced the court. And 
 the '^^old lion " buried his shaggy, gray head and beard in 
 his hands, and groaned aloud. 
 
 ^^'Now, then, what is your name, my lad — my girl, I 
 should say ?" inquired the clerk. 
 
 **Capitola, sir.-'' 
 
 Old Hurricane pricked up his ears and raised his head, 
 muttering to himself — Cajo-it-o-la ! That's a very odd 
 name. Can't surely be two in the world of the same. 
 Cap-it-o-la ! — if it should be my Oapitola, after all ? I 
 shouldn't wonder at all ! I'll listen, and say nothing." 
 And with this wise resolution Old Hurricane again 
 dropped his head upon his hands. 
 
 ^'^You say your name is Oapitola — Oapitola what?'^ 
 inquired the clerk, continuing the examination. 
 Nothing, sir." 
 ^' Nothing ! What do you mean V 
 ^' I have no name but Oapitola, sir!" 
 ^'Who is your father ?" 
 
 Never had any that I know, sir." 
 " Your mother ?" 
 Never had a mother either, sir, as ever I heard/' 
 Where do you live?" 
 About in spots, in the city, sir." 
 ''Oh — oh — oh!" groaned Old Hurricane within his 
 hands. 
 
 " What is your calling ?" inquired the clerk. 
 
 " Selling newspapers, carrying portmanteaus and pack- 
 
THE DISCOVERT. 51 
 
 ages, sweeping before doors, clearing off snow, blacking 
 boots, and so on." 
 
 " Little odd jobs in general, eli 
 Yes, sir, anything that I can turn my hand to, and 
 get to do/' 
 
 Boy — girl I should say — what tempted you to put 
 yourself into male attire 
 ^^Sir r 
 
 " In boy's clothes, then 't" 
 
 Oh, yes — luant, sir — and — and danger, sir/' cried the 
 little prisoner^ putting her hands to a face crimson with 
 blushes, and for the first time since her arrest upon the 
 eye of sobbing. 
 
 Oil — oil — oil r groaned Old Hurricane from his 
 
 chair. 
 
 Want ? Danger I How is that continued the 
 
 clerk. 
 
 Your honor mio^htn't like to know."" 
 By all means. It is^ in fact, necessary that you 
 should give an account of yourself,'' said the clerk. 
 
 Old Hurricane once more raised his head, opened his 
 ears, and gave close attention. 
 
 One circumstance he had particularly remarked — the 
 language used by the poor child during her examination 
 was much superior to the slang she bad previously 
 . affected, to support her assumed character of newsboy. 
 
 '^^Well, well — why do you pause ? Goon — go on my 
 good boy — girl I mean,'' said the Recorder, in a tone of 
 kind encouragement. 
 
59 
 
 ▲ SHORT, SAD 6T0RT. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A SHORT, SAD STORY. 
 
 "Ah 1 poverty is a weary thing, 
 It burdeneth the brain. 
 It maketh even the little child 
 To murmur and complain." 
 
 " It is not much I have to tell/' began Capitola. "I 
 was brought up in Rag Alley and its neighborhood, by an 
 old woman named Nancy Grewell/' 
 
 " Ah V ejaculated Old Hurricane. 
 
 " She was a washerwoman, and rented one scantily-fur- 
 nished room from a poor family named Simmons.*' 
 Oh V cried Old Hurricane. 
 
 Granny, as I called her, was very good to me, and I 
 never suffered cold, nor hunger, until about eighteen 
 months ago, when Granny took it into her head to go down 
 to Virginia.'' 
 
 Humph I" exclaimed Old Hurricane. 
 
 " When Granny went away, she left me a little money 
 and some good clothes, and told me to be sure to stay with 
 the people where she left me, for that she would be back in 
 about a month. But, your honor, that was the very last I 
 ever saw or heard of poor Granny. She never came back 
 again ; and by that I know she must have died." 
 Ah-h-h V breathed the old man, puffing fast. 
 
 " The first month or two after Granny left, I did well 
 enough. And then, when the little money was all gone, I 
 eat with the Simmons's, and did little odd jobs for my food. 
 But by and by Mr. Simmons got out of work, and the 
 family fell into want, and they wished me to go out and beg 
 
A SHORT, SAD STORY. 
 
 53 
 
 for tliem. / just couldnH do that ; and so they told me I 
 should look out for myself/^ 
 
 " Were there no customers of your grandmother that 
 you could have applied to for employment asked the 
 Kecorder. 
 
 " No, sir. My Granny's customers were mostly board- 
 ers at the small taverns, and they were always changing. I 
 did apply to too or three houses where the landladies knew 
 Granny ; but they didn''t want me/^ 
 
 Oli-h-li ! ^' groaned Major Warfield, in the tone of one 
 in great pain. 
 
 I wouldn't have that old fellow's conscience for a good 
 deal/' whispered a spectator, "for, as sure as shooting, that 
 gal's his unlawful child." 
 
 " Well— go on. What next ?" asked the clerk. 
 
 " Well, sir, though the Simmons's had nothing to give 
 me except a crust now and then, they still let me sleep in 
 the house, for the little jobs I could do for them. But at 
 last Simmons got work on the railroad a way off some- 
 where, and they all moved away from the city." 
 
 "And you were left alone ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, I was left alone in the empty, unfurnished 
 house. Still it was a shelter, and I was glad of it, and I 
 dreaded the time when it would be rented by another ten- 
 ant, and I should be turned into the street." 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! oh. Lord!" groaned the major. 
 
 " But it was never rented again ; for the word went 
 around that the whole row was to be pulled down ; and so 
 I thought I had leave to stay, at least as long as the rats 
 did," continued Capitola, with somewhat of her natural 
 rougish humor twinkling in her dark, gray eyes. 
 
 " But how did you get your bread ?" inquired the 
 Kecorder. 
 
 " Did not get it at all, sir. Bread was too dear ! I 
 sold my clothes, piece by piece, to the old man, over the 
 way, and bought corn meal, and picked up trash t© ina,ke 
 
54 
 
 A SHORT, SAD STORY. 
 
 a fire, and cooked a little mush every day in an old tin can 
 that had been left behind. And so I lived on for two or 
 three weeks. And then when my clothes were all gone — 
 except the suit I had upon my back — and my meal was 
 almost out_, instead of making mush every day I econo- 
 mized, and made gruel" 
 
 " But my hoy— my good girl, I mean — before you 
 became so destitute, you should have found something or 
 other to do/' said the Eecorder. 
 
 Sir, I was trying to get jobs every hour in the day. 
 I'd have done anything honest. I went around to all the 
 houses Granny knew, but they didn't want a girl. Some 
 of the good-natured landlords said, if I was a doy now, 
 they could keep me opening oysters, but as I was a girl, 
 they had no work for me. I even went to the offices to get 
 papers to sell, but they told me that crying papers was not 
 j^roper work for a girl. I even went down to tlie ferry- 
 boats and watched for the passengers coming ashore, and 
 ran and offered to carry their carpet-bags or portmanteaus ; 
 but some growled at me, and others laughed at me, and 
 one old gentleman asked me if I thought he was a North 
 American Indian, to strut up Broadway with a female 
 behind him carrying his pack. And so, sir, while all the 
 ragged boys I knew could get little jobs to earn bread, I, 
 because I was a girl, was not allowed to carry a gentleman^s 
 j)arcel, or black his boots, or shovel the snow off a shop- 
 keeper's pavement, or put in coal, or do a^iything that / 
 could do just as well as they. And so because I was a 
 girl, there seemed to be nothing but starvation or beggary 
 before me.''' 
 
 Oh, Lord ! oh. Lord ! that such things should be V 
 cried Old Hurricane. 
 
 ^'^That was bad, sir! but there was ivorse behind! 
 There came a day when my meal — even the last dust of it, 
 was gone ! Then I kept life in me by drinking water, and 
 by sleeping all I could. At first I could not sleep for the 
 
A SHORT, SAD STORY. 
 
 65 
 
 gnawing — gnawing — in my stomach. ; but afterwards I 
 slept deeply, from exhaustion, and then Fd dream of feasts 
 and the richest sort of food, and of eating such quantities ! 
 and really, sir, I seemed to taste it and enjoy it and get 
 the good of it — almost as much as if it was all true ! One 
 morning after such a dream I was waked up by a great 
 noise^ outside. I staggered upon my feet and crept to the 
 window ! and there, sir, were the workmen all outside, a 
 pulling down the house over my head V 
 
 " Good Heaven V' ejaculated old Hurricane, who 
 seemed to constitute himself the chorus of this drama. 
 
 ^' Sir^ they didn't know that I or any one was in the 
 empty house ! Fright gave me strength to run down stairs 
 and run out. Then I stopped. Oh ! I stopped and 
 looked up and down the street ! What should I do : 
 The last shelter was gone away from me ! — the house 
 where I had lived so many years and that seemed like a 
 friend to me, was falling before my eyes ! I thought Fd 
 just go and pitch myself into the river, and end it all \" 
 
 " That was a very wicked thought,^' said the Recorder. 
 
 ''•Yes, sir, I know it was ; and besides, I was dread- 
 fully afraid of being suffocated in the dirty water around 
 the wharf I I V said Capitola, with a sparkle of that irre- 
 pressible humor that effervesced even through all her 
 trouble. " Well, sir, the hand that feeds young ravens 
 kept me from dying that day. I found a five-cent piece in 
 the street, and resolved ]iot to smother myself in the river 
 mud as long as it lasted. So I bought a muffin, ate it, 
 and went down to the wharf to look for a job. I looked 
 ail day, but found none^ and when night came I went into 
 a lumber-yard and hid myself behind a pile of planks that 
 kept the wind off me, and I went to sleep and dreamed a 
 beautiful dream of living in a handsome house, with 
 friends all around me, and everything good to eat, and 
 drink, and wear \" 
 
A SEOEt, SAl) fitOBf . 
 
 Poor, poor child ; but your dream may come true 
 yet V muttered Old Hurricane to himself. 
 
 " Well, your Honor, next day I spent another penny 
 out of my half-dime, and looked in vain for work all day, 
 and slept at night in a broken-down omnibus that had 
 happened to be left on the stand. And so, not to tire your 
 patience, a whole week passed away. I lived on my half- 
 dime, spending a penny a day for a muffin, until the last 
 penny was gone, and sleeping at night wherever I could — 
 sometimes under the front stoop of a house, sometimes in 
 an old broken carriage, and sometimes behind a pile of 
 boxes on the sidewalk!" 
 
 That was a dreadful exposure for a young girl," said 
 the Recorder. 
 
 A burning blush flamed up over the young creature^s 
 cheek, as she answered : 
 
 " Yes, sir, that was the worst of all ; that finally drove 
 me to putting on boy^s clothes." 
 Let us hear all about it." 
 
 Oh, sir — I can't — I — how can I ? Well, being always 
 exposed, sleeping out-doors, I was often in danger from 
 bad boys and bad men," said Capitola, and dropping her 
 head upon her breast, and covering her crimson cheeks 
 with her hands, for the first time she burst into tears and 
 sobbed aloud. 
 
 "Come, come, my little man! — my good little woman, 
 I mean — don't take it so to heart! You couldn't help it!" 
 said Old Hurricane, with raindrops glittering even in his 
 own stormy eyes. 
 
 Capitola looked up with her whole countenance flashing 
 with spirit, and exclaimed, "Oh! but I took care of 
 myself, sir! I did, indeed, your Honor! You mustn't, 
 either you or the old gentleman, dare to think but what I 
 did." 
 
 "Oh, of course! of course!" said a bystander, laugh- 
 ing. 
 
A. SHORT, SAD STOEY. 
 
 57 
 
 Old Hurricane sprung up, bringing his feet down upon 
 the floor with a resound that made the great hall ring 
 again, exclaiming : 
 
 '^"What do you mean by 'of course/ 'of course/ you 
 villain ? Demmy ! FU swear she took care of herself, 
 you varlet ; and if any man dares to hint otherwise, I'll 
 ram his falsehood down his throat with the point of my 
 walking-stick, and make him swallow both 1'' 
 
 ^' Order, order said the clerk. 
 
 Old Hurricane immediately wheeled to the right-abOat, 
 faced and saluted the bench in military fashion, and then 
 said : 
 
 '' Yes, sir ! Fll regard order I but, in the meanwhile, 
 if the court does not protect this child from insult, I must, 
 order or no order and with that the old gentleman once 
 more subsided into his seat. 
 
 " Governor, don't you be so noisy ! You'll get yourself 
 stopped up into a jug next ! Why, you remind me of an 
 uproarious old fellow poor Granny used to talk about, that 
 they called Old Hurricane, because he was so stormy V 
 whispered Capitola, turning towards him. 
 
 ''Humph ! she's heard of we, then \" muttered the old 
 gentleman, to himself. 
 
 " Well, sir — I mean Miss — go on V said the clerk, 
 addressing Capitola. 
 
 " Yes, sir. Well, your Honor, at the end of five days, 
 being a certain Thursday morning, when I couldn't get a 
 job of work for love nor money, when my last penny was 
 spent for my last roll — and my last roll was eaten up — and 
 I was dreading the gnawing hunger by day, and the horrid 
 perils of the night, I thought to myself if I were only a 
 hoy, I might carry packages, and shovel in coal, and do 
 lots of jobs by day, and sleep without terror by night ! 
 And then I felt bitter against fate for not making me a 
 boy I And so thinking and thinking and thinking, I 
 wandered on until I found myself in Rag Alley, where I 
 
68 
 
 A SHORT, SAD STORT. 
 
 used to live, standing right between the pile of broken bricks, 
 plaster, and lumber, that used to be my home, and the old 
 pawnbroker's shop where I sold my clothes for meal. And 
 then, all of a sudden, a bright thought struck me : and 1 
 made up my mind to he a hoy /" 
 
 *^ Made up your mind to be a boy \" 
 Yes, sir I for it was so easy ! I wondered how I came 
 to be so stupid as not to have thought of it before ! I just 
 ran across to the old shop, and offered to swap my suit of 
 girFs clothes, that was good, though dirty, for any, even 
 the raggedest suit of boy's clothes he had, whether they'd 
 fit me or not, so they would only stay on me. The old 
 fellow put his finger to his nose, as if he thought Fd been 
 stealing and wanted to dodge the police. So he took down 
 an old, not very ragged, suit that he said would fit me, and 
 opened a door, and told me to go in his daughter's room 
 and put 'em on." 
 
 " Well ! not to tire your honors, I went into that lit- 
 tle back parlor a girl, and I came out a hoy, with a suit of 
 pants and jacket, with my hair cut short and a cap on my 
 head ! The pawnbroker gave me a penny roll and a six- 
 pence for my black ringlets." 
 
 All seemed grist that came to his mill !" said Old 
 Hurricane. 
 
 **Yes, Governor, he was a dealer in general. Well, the 
 first thing I did was to hire myself to him, at a sixpence a 
 day, and find myself, to shovel in his coal. That didn't 
 take me but a day. So at night he paid me, and I slept in 
 peace behind a stack of boxes. Next morning I was up 
 before the sun, and down to the office of the little penny 
 paper, the ' Morning Star.' I bought two dozen of 'em, 
 and ran as fast as I could to the ferry-boats to sell to the 
 early passengers. Well, sir, in an hour's time I had sold 
 out, and pocketed just two shillings, and felt myself on the 
 high road to fortune V* 
 
MTiJilOSPHOSIS OF HSWSBOY. 
 
 §9 
 
 '''And so that was the way by which you came to put 
 yourself in male attire 
 
 Yes, sir I and tlie only thing that made me feel sorry, 
 'was to see what a fool I had been, not to turn to a boy 
 before, when it was so easy ! And from that day forth I 
 was happy and prosperous ! I found plenty to do ? I car- 
 ried carjoet-bags, held horses, put in coal, cleaned side- 
 walks, blacked gentlemen^s boots, and did everything an 
 honest Lad could turn his hand to! And so for moreen a 
 year I was as happy as a king, and should have kept on so, 
 only I forgot and let my hair grow, and instead of cutting 
 it off, just tucked it up under my cap ; and so this morn- 
 ing, on the ferry-boat, in a high breeze, the icincl Uoiued 
 off my cap and the policeman hloioed on me I" 
 
 'Twasn^t altogether her long hair, your honor ; for I 
 had seen her before, having known her when she lived 
 with old Mrs. Grewell, in Eag Alley, ■'^ interrupted the 
 officer. 
 
 You may sit down, my child," said the Recorder, in a 
 tone of encouragement. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MWAMORPHOSIS OF THE NEWS-BOY. 
 
 "With caution judge of probability. 
 
 Things deemed unlikely, e'en impossible, 
 
 Experience oft hath proved to be true. — Shakespeare. 
 
 What shall we do with her inquired the Recorder, 
 sotto voce, of a brother magistrate who appeared to be 
 associated with him on the bench. 
 
 ''Send her to the Refuge," replied the other, in the 
 same tone. 
 
60 
 
 METAMORPHOSIS OF THE NEWSBOY. 
 
 " What are they consulting about asked Old Hurri- 
 cane^ whose ears were not of the best. 
 
 They are talking of sending her to the Kefuge," 
 answered a by-stander. 
 
 Kefuge ? Is there a Refuge for destitute children in 
 New York. Then Babylon is not so bad as I thought it. 
 What is this Kefuge ^ 
 
 " It is a prison where juvenile delinquents are trained 
 to habits of — " 
 
 A prison ! send her to a prison ! never V burst forth 
 Old Hurricane, rising and marching up to the Recorder. 
 He stood hat in hand before him, and said : 
 
 Your Honor, if a proper legal guardian appears to 
 claim this young person, and holds himself in all respeo^bs 
 responsible for her, may she not be at once delivered into 
 his hands r 
 
 "Assuredly," answered the magistrate, with the man- 
 ner of one glad to be rid of the charge. 
 
 ''Then, sir, I, Ira Warfield, of Hurricalie Hall, in 
 Virginia, present myself as the guardian of this girl, Capi- 
 tola Black, whom I claim as my ward. And I will enter 
 into a recognizance for any sum to appear and prove my 
 right, if it should be disputed. For my personal responsi- 
 bility, sir, I refer you to the proprietors of the Astor, who 
 have known me many years. 
 
 '' It is not necessary. Major Warfield : we assume the 
 fact of your responsibility and deliver up the young girl to 
 your charge." 
 
 '' I thank you, sir," said Old Hurricane, bowing low. 
 
 Then hurrying across the room where sat the reporters 
 for the press, he said : 
 
 '' Gentlemen, I have a favor to ask of you — it is that 
 you will altogether drop this case of the boy in girl's clothes 
 — I mean the girl in girPs clothes — I declare, I don't know 
 what I mean! nor I shan't, neither, until I see the creature 
 in its proper dress ; but this I wish to request of you, gentle- 
 
METAMORPHOSIS OF THE NEWSBOY. 
 
 61 
 
 men, that you will drop that item from your report, or if 
 you must mention it, treat it with delicacy, as the good 
 name of a young lady is involved/^ 
 
 The reporters, with sidelong glances, winks, and smiles, 
 gave him the required promise, and Old Hurricane returned 
 to the side of his protegee, 
 
 " Capitola, are you willing to go with me? 
 Jolly willing, governor/^ 
 
 ^' Then come along, my coach is waiting,^' said Old 
 Hurricane. 
 
 And, bowing to the Court, he took the hand of his 
 charge, and led her forth amid the ill-suppressed jibes of 
 the crowd. 
 
 There^s a hoary-headed old sinner!" said one. 
 
 She's as like him as two peas,'' quoth another. 
 
 Wonder if there's any more belonging to him of the 
 same sort," inquired a third. 
 
 Leaving all this sarcasm behind him. Old Hurricane 
 handed his protegee into the coach, took the seat beside 
 her, and gave orders to be driven out towards Harlem. 
 
 As soon as they were seated in the coach, the old man 
 turned to his charge and said : 
 
 Capitola, I shall have to trust to your girl's wit, to 
 get yourself into your proper clothes again without exciting 
 farther notice." 
 
 Yes, governor." 
 
 My boy, girl, I mean 1 1 am not the governor of Vir- 
 ginia, though if every one had his rights I don't know but 
 I should be ! However, I am only Major Warfield," said 
 the old man, naively, for he had not the most distant idea 
 that the title bestowed on him by Capitola, was a mere 
 remnant of her newsboys' slang. 
 
 Now, my lad — pshaw ! my lass, I mean, how shall we 
 get you metamorphosed again ?" 
 
 " I know, gov — major, I mean. There is a shop of 
 ready-made clothing at the * Needle Woman's Aid,' corner 
 
of the nest square. I can get out there and buy a full 
 
 Very well ! stop at the next corner, driver/' called 
 Old Hurricane. 
 
 The next minute the coach drew up before a warehouse 
 of ready-made garments. 
 
 Old Hurricane jumped out, and leading his charge, 
 entered the shop. 
 
 Luckily, there was behind the counter only one per- 
 son — a staid, elderly, kind-looking woman. 
 
 ^^Here, madam," said Old Hurricane, stooping confi- 
 dentially to her ear — I am in a little embarrassment that 
 I hope you will be willing to help me out of for a conside- 
 ration. I came to 'New York in pursuit of my ward — this 
 young girl here, whom I found in boy's clothes. I now 
 wish to restore her to her proper dress, before presenting 
 her to my friends, of course. Therefore, I wish you to 
 furnish her with a half a dozen complete suits of female 
 attire, of the very best you have that will fit her. And 
 also to give her the use of a room and of your own aid in 
 changing her dress. I will pay you liberally." 
 
 Half suspicious and half scandalized, the worthy 
 woman gazed with scrutiny first into the face of the guar- 
 dian, and then into that of the ward ; but finding in the 
 extreme youth of the one and the advanced age of the 
 other, and in the honest expression of both, something to 
 allay her fears, if not to inspire her confidence, she said : 
 
 ''Very well, sir. Come after me, young gentleman — 
 young lady, I should say.'' And calling in a boy to mind 
 the shop, slie conducted Oapitola to an inner apartment. 
 
 Old Hurricane went out and dismissed his coach. 
 When it was entirely out of sight, he hailed another that 
 was passing by empty, and engaged it to take himself and 
 a young lady to the Washington House. 
 
 When he re-entered the shop he found the shop woman 
 and Oapitola returned and waiting for him. 
 
METAMORPHOSIS OF THE NEWSBOY. 
 
 63 
 
 Oapitola was indeed transfigured. Her bright black 
 hair, parted in the middle, fell in ringlets each side her 
 blushing cheeks; her dark gray eyes were cast down in 
 modesty at the very same instant that her ripe red lips 
 were puckered up with hiischief. She was well and prop- 
 erly attired in a gray silk dress, crimson merino shawl, and 
 a black velvet bonnet. 
 
 The other clothing that had been purchased was clone 
 up in packages and put into the coach. 
 
 And after paying the shopwoman handsomely. Old 
 Hurricane took the hand of his ward, handed her into the 
 coach, and gave the order : 
 
 To the Washington House."" 
 
 The ride was performed in silence. 
 
 Oapitola sat deeply blushing at the recollection of her 
 male attire, and profoundly cogitating as to what could be 
 the relationship between herself and the gray old man 
 whose claim the Recorder had so promptly admitted. 
 There seemed but one Avay of accounting for the great 
 interest he took in her fate. Oapitola came to the con- 
 clusion that the grim old lion before her was no more nor 
 less than — her own father ! poor Oap. had been too long 
 tossed about New York not to know more of life than at 
 her age she should have known. She had indeed the iwio- 
 cence of youth, but not its simplicity. 
 
 Old Hurricane, on his part, sat with his thick cane 
 grasped in his two knobby hands, standing between his 
 knees, his grizzled chin resting upon it, and his eyes cast 
 down as in deep thought. 
 
 And so in silence they reached the Washington House. 
 
 Major Warfield then conducted his ward into the ladies' 
 parlor, and went and entered his own and her name upon 
 the books as Major Warfield and his ward Miss Black," 
 for whom he engaged two bedrooms and a private parlor. 
 
 Then leaving Oapitola to be shown to her apartment by 
 
64 
 
 METAMORPHOSIS OF THE NEWSBOY. 
 
 a chambermaid, he went out and ordered her luggage up to 
 her room, and dismissed the coach. 
 
 Next he walked to the Astor House, paid his bill, 
 collected his baggage, took another carriage and drove back 
 to the Washington Hotel. 
 
 All this trouble Old Hurri«ane took to break the links 
 of his action and prevent scandal. This filled up a long 
 forenoon. 
 
 He dined alone with his ward in their private parlor. 
 
 Such a dinner poor Cap. had never even smelt before ! 
 How intensely she enjoyed it with all its surroundings ! — 
 the comfortable room, the glowing fire, the clean table, the 
 rich food, the obsequious attendance, her own genteel and 
 becoming dress, the company of a highly respectable guar- 
 dian — all, all, so different from anything she had ever been 
 accustomed to, and so highly appreciated. 
 
 How happy she felt ! how much happier from the con- 
 trast of her previous wretchedness I to be suddenly freed 
 from want, toil, fear, and all the evils of destitute orphan- 
 age, and to find herself blest with wealth, leisure, and 
 safety, under the care of a rich, good, and kind father ! 
 (for such Capitola continued to believe her guardian to be.) 
 It was an incredible thing I It was like a fairy tale ! 
 
 Something of what was passing in her mind was per- 
 ceived by Old Hurricane, who frequently burst into up- 
 roarious fits of laughter, as he watched her. 
 
 At last, when the dinner and dessert were removed, and 
 the nuts, raisins, and wine placed upon the table, and the 
 waiters had retired from the room and left them alone, 
 sitting one on each side of the fire, with the table and its 
 luxuries between them, Major Warfield suddenly looked 
 up and asked : 
 
 " Capitola, whom do you think that I am 
 Old Hurricane, to be sure I I knew you from 
 Granny's description, the moment you broke out so in the 
 police office,^' answered Cap. 
 
METAMORPHOSIS OF THE NEWSBOY. 
 
 65 
 
 Humph ! yes^ you^re right ; and it was your granny 
 that bequeathed you to me, Capitola." 
 Then she is really dead V 
 
 Yes. There — don't cry about her. She was very old, 
 and she died happy. Xow, Capitola, if you please me, I 
 mean to adopt yon as my own daughter.'' 
 
 "Yes, father." 
 Is^o, no, — you needn't call me father, you know be- 
 cause it isn't true. Call me itnde ! uncle ! uncle !" 
 
 ''Is that true, sir ?" asked Cap, demurely. 
 
 '' No, no, no ; but it will do ! it will do ! I^ow, Cap, 
 how much do you know ? anything ? Ignorant as a horse, 
 I am afraid.-" 
 
 '' Yes, sir, even as a colt,^^ 
 
 " Can you read at all 
 
 '' Yes, sir. I learned at the Sunday-school.'' 
 
 '' Cast accounts and write 
 
 ''I can keep your books at a pinch, sir.'' 
 
 '' Humph ! who taught you these accomplishments 
 
 ''Herbert Greyson, sir." 
 
 " Herbert Greyson ! Iwe heard that name before ! here 
 it is again. Who is that Herbert Greyson ?" 
 
 "He's second mate on the Susan, sir, that is expected 
 in every day." 
 
 "IJmph ! Umph ! — take a glass of wine, Capitola ?' 
 
 "IN'o, sir ; I never touch a siugle drop." 
 
 " Why ? why ? good wine after dinner, my child, is a 
 good thing, let me tell you." 
 
 "Ah, sir, my life has shown me too much misery that 
 has come of drinking wine." 
 
 "Well, well, as you please. Why, where has the girl 
 run oS to ?" exclaimed the old man, breaking off, and 
 looking with amazement at Capitola, who had suddenly 
 started up and rushed out of the room. 
 
 In an instant she rushed in again exclaiming : 
 
 " Ohf he's come! he's come I I heard his yoice I'*^ 
 
66 
 
 HEEBEET GEEY80N. 
 
 Who's come, you madcap inquired the old man. 
 
 Oh, Herbert Greyson ! Herbert Greyson ! His ship 
 is in, and he has come here ! he always comes here — most 
 of the sea-officers do exclaimed Cap, dancing around 
 until all her black ringlets flew up and down. Then sud- 
 denly pausing, she came quietly to his side, and said, sol- 
 emnly : 
 
 Uncle ! Herbert has been at sea three years ! he knows 
 nothing of niy past misery and destitution, nor of my ever 
 wearing boy's clothes. Uncle, please don't tell him, espec- 
 ially of the boy's clothes !" And in the earnestness of her 
 appeal, Capitola clasped her hands and raised her eyes to 
 the old man's face. How soft those gray eyes looked when 
 praying ! but for all that, the very spirit of mischief still 
 lurked about the corners of the plump, arch lips. 
 
 " Of course I shall tell no one. I am not so proud of 
 your masquerading as to publish it. And as for this 
 young fellow, I shall probably never see him V* exclaimed 
 Old Hurricane. 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 HERBERT GREYSOK. 
 
 A kind, true heart, a spirit high, 
 That cannot fear and will not bow. 
 Is flashing in his manly eye 
 
 And stamped upon his brow." — Halleck. 
 
 In a few minutes Capitola came bounding up the staira 
 again, exclaiming, joyously — 
 
 "Here he is, uncle! here is Herbert Greyson! Come 
 along Herbert! You must come in and see my new 
 uncle!" And she broke into the room, dragging before 
 
HERBERT GREY60N. 
 
 67 
 
 her astonislied guardian a handsome, dark-eyed young 
 sailor, who bowed, and then stood blushing at his enforced 
 intrusion. 
 
 ^'1 beg your pardon, sir,^^ he said, '^for bursting in 
 upon you in this way ; but 
 
 I dragged him here willy-nilly,^^ said Capitola. 
 
 Still, if I had had time to think, I should not have 
 intruded/^ 
 
 "Oh, say no more, sir! You are heartily welcome!^' 
 exclaimed the old man, thrusting out his rugged hand and 
 seizing the bronzed one of the youth. Sit down, sir, — 
 sit down! Good Lord, I1020 lihe!" he added, mentally. 
 
 Then, seeing the young sailor still standing blushing 
 and hesitating, he struck his cane upon the floor and 
 roared out : 
 
 '•^Demmy, sit DOWN", sir! When Ira Warfield says 
 sit down, he means sit down!'' 
 
 ^'Ira Warfield!'' exclaimed the young man, starting 
 back in astonishment — one might almost say in consterna- 
 tion. 
 
 *^Aye, sir! Ira Warfield! that's my name! Never 
 heard any ill of it, did you ?" 
 
 The young man did not answer, but continued gazing 
 in amazement upon the speaker. 
 
 ^'Nor any good of it either, perhaps, — eh, uncle?" 
 archly put in Capitola. 
 
 ^'Silence, you monkey! Well, young man! well, what 
 is the meaning of all this ?" exclaimed Old Hurricane, 
 impatiently. 
 
 Oh, your pardon, sir! this was sudden. But you 
 must know I had once a relative of that name — an uncle." 
 
 And have still, Herlert ! and have still, lad! Come, 
 come, boy! I am not sentimental, nor romantic, nor 
 melo-dramatic, nor anything of that sort. " I don't know 
 how to strike an attitude and exclaim — ^Come to my 
 bosom, sole remaining offspring of a dear, departed sister,' 
 
68 
 
 HERBERT GRETSON. 
 
 or any of the like stage-playing. But I tell you, lad, that 
 I like your looks ; and I like what I have heard of you 
 from this girl and another old woman, now dead; and 
 •0 — ^but sit down, sit down demmy, sir, sit dowi?-, and 
 we'll talk over the walnuts and the wine! Capitola, take 
 your seat, too!'' ordered the old man, throwing himself 
 into his chair. Herbert also drew his chair up. 
 
 Capitola resumed her seat, saying to herself, 
 
 ^'Well, well, I am determined not to be surprised at 
 anything that happens, being perfectly clear in my own 
 mind that this is all nothing but a dream. But how 
 pleasant it is to dream that I have found a rich uncle and 
 he has found a nephew, and that nephew is Herbert Grey- 
 son I I do believe that I had rather die in my sleep than 
 wake from this dream I" 
 
 *^ Herbert \" said Old Hurricane, as soon as they had 
 gathered around the table, Herbert, this is my ward. Miss 
 Black, the daughter of a deceased friend. Capitola, this is 
 the only son of my departed sister. 
 
 " Hem-m-m ! we have had the pleasure of being acquain- 
 ted with each other before \" said Cap, pinching up her 
 lip, and looking demure. 
 
 But not of really knowing who ' each other ' was, you 
 monkey ! Herbert, fill your glass ! Here's to our better 
 acquaintance !" 
 
 I thank you, sir. I never touch wine," said the young 
 
 man. 
 
 'Never touch wine !' here's another ! here's a young 
 prig I I don't believe you ! yes, I do too ! Demmy, sir, — 
 if you never touch wine it's because you prefer Irandy ! 
 Waiter !" 
 
 ''I thank you, sir. Order no brandy for me. If I 
 never use intoxicating liquors, it is because I gave a promise 
 to that effect to my dying mother !" 
 
 Say no more — say no more, lad I Drink water, if you 
 
HERBERT GRETSON. 
 
 69 
 
 like. It wonH hurt you! exclaimed the old man, filling 
 and qnafifing a glass of champagne. Then he said : 
 
 I quarreled with your mother, Herbert, for marrying 
 a man that I hated — yes, hated, Herbert ! for he differed 
 with me about the tariff and — ^the Trinity ! Oh, how I 
 hated him, boy, until he died ! and then I wondered in my 
 soul, as I wonder even now, how I ever could have been so 
 infuriated against a poor fellow now cold in his grave — as I 
 shall be in time ! I wrote to my sister, and expressed my 
 feelings ; but somehow or other, Herbert, we never came to 
 a right understanding again. She answered my letter 
 affectionately enough, but she refused to accept a home for 
 herself and child under my roof, saying that she thanked 
 me for my offer, but that the house which had been closed 
 against her husband ought never to become the refuge of 
 his widow. After that we never corresponded, and I have 
 no doubt, Herbert, that she, naturally enough, taught you 
 to dislike me.-*' 
 
 Not so, sir ! Indeed, 'you wrong her ! She might 
 have been loyal to my father's memory without being 
 resentful towards you. She said that you had a noble 
 nature, but it was often obscured by violent passions. On 
 her deathbed she bade me, should I ever meet you, to say 
 that she repented her refusal of your offered kindness." 
 
 An^ consented that it sliould be transferred to her 
 orphan boy added Old Hurricane, with the tears like 
 rain-drops in his stormy eyes. 
 ''No, sir, she said not so.'' 
 
 '*But yet she would not have disapproved a service 
 offered to her son." 
 
 " Uncle — since you permit me to call you so — I want 
 nothing. I have a good berth in the Susan and a kind 
 friend in her captain." 
 
 "You have all your dear mother's pride, Herbert,'^ 
 
 ^' And all his uncles," put in Cap. 
 
70 
 
 HERBERT GRETSON. 
 
 Hush, magpie ! But is the merchant service agree- 
 able to you, Herbert ?" 
 
 " Not perfectly, sir ; but one must be content/' 
 " Demmy, sir, my sister^'s son iieecl not be content 
 unless he has a mind to ! And if you prefer the 
 navy 
 
 "No, sir. I like the navy even less than the merchant 
 service." 
 
 " Then what would suit you, lad. Come, you have 
 betrayed the fact that you are not altogether satisfied." 
 
 " On the contrary, sir, I told you distinctly that I 
 really wanted nothing, and that I must be satisfied." 
 
 "And I say demmy, sir, you shan't be satisfied, unless 
 you like to ! Come, if you don^t like the navy, what do 
 you say to the army, eh ? 
 
 "It is a proud, aspiring profession, sir," said the young 
 man, as his face lighted up with enthusiasm. 
 
 " Then, demmy, if you like the army, sir, you shall 
 enter it. Yes, sir. Demmy, the administration, con- 
 found them, has not done me justice, but they^ll scarcely 
 dare to refuse to send my nephew to West Point, when I 
 demand it." 
 
 " To West Point !" exclaimed Herbert, in delight. 
 
 "Aye, youngster, to West Point. I shall see to it, 
 when I pass through Washington on our way to Virginia. 
 We start on the early train to-morrow morning. In the 
 meantime, young man, you take leave of your captain, 
 pack up your traps and join us. You must go with me, 
 and make Hurricane Hall your home until you go to West 
 Point." 
 
 "Oh, what a capital old governor our uncle is!" ex- 
 claimed Cap, jumping up and clapping her hands. 
 
 " Sir, indeed you overwhelm me with this most unex- 
 pected kindness. I do not know as yet how much of it I 
 ought to accept. But accident will make me, whether or 
 no, your travelling companion for a great part of the way. 
 
SERBERl' GEETSOI?. 
 
 ?1 
 
 as I also start for Virginia to-morroTV, to visit dear friends 
 there whose house was always my mother's home and mine, 
 and wlio, since my bereavement, have been to me like a 
 dear mother and brother. I have not seen them for years 
 and before I go anywhere else, even to your kind roof, I 
 mnst go there," said Herbert gravely. 
 
 '^And who are those dear friends of yours, Herbert, 
 and wliere do they live ? If I can serve them, they shall 
 be rewarded for their kindness unto you, my boy." 
 
 Oh, sir, yes, yes ! you can indeed serve them J They 
 are a poor widow and her only son ! She has seen better 
 days ; but now takes in sewing to support herself and boy. 
 When my mother was living, during the last years of her 
 life, when she also was a poor widow with an only son, 
 they joined tlieir slender means, and took a house and 
 lived together. When my mother died leaving me a boy 
 of ten years old, this poor woman still sheltered and 
 worked for me as for her own son, until ashamed of being 
 a burden to her, I ran away and went to sea 
 
 Koble woman ! I will make her fortune !" exclaimed 
 Old Hurricane, jumping up and walking up and down the 
 floor. 
 
 ^' Oh, do, sir ! Oh, do ! dear uncle. I don't wish you 
 to expend either money or influence upon my fortunes ; but 
 oh ! do educate Traverse ! he is such a gifted lad — so intel- 
 lectual I even his Sunday school teacher says that he is sure 
 to work his way to distinction, although now he is altogether 
 dependent on his Sunday school for his learning. Oh, sir, 
 if you would only educate the son he'd make a fortune for 
 his mother 
 
 G-enerous boy, to plead for your friends rather than 
 for yourself ! But I am strong enough, thank God, to help 
 you all ! You shall go to West Point. Your young friend 
 shall go to school, and then to college," said Old Hurri- 
 cane, with a burst of honest enthusiasm. 
 
 And where shall I go, sir T' inquired Cap. 
 
HERBERT GHEtSOH. 
 
 " To the lunatic asylum, you imp I^' exclaimed tlie old 
 man ; then turning to Herbert, he continued : "Yes, lad, 
 I will do as I say ; as for the poor but noble-hearted 
 
 widow — 
 
 " You^ll marry her yourself, as a reward, won't you, 
 uncle asked the incorrigible Cap. 
 
 Perhaps I will, you monkey, if it is only to bring some- 
 body home to keep you in order ?' said Old Hurricane ; 
 then turning again to Herbert, he resumed : **As to the 
 widow, Herbert, I will place her above want/' 
 
 "Over my head,^" cried Cap. 
 
 *'And now, Herbert, I will trouble you to ring for 
 coffee, and after we have had that, I think that we had 
 better separate, and prepare for our journey to-morrow/' 
 
 Herbert obeyed, and after the required refreshment had 
 been served and partaken of, the little circle broke up for 
 the evening, and soon after retired to rest. 
 
 " Early the next morning, after a hasty breakfast, the 
 three took their seats in the express train for Washington, 
 where they arrived upon the evening of the same day. 
 They put up for the night at Brown's, and the next day 
 Major Warfield, leaving his party at their hotel, called upon 
 the President, the Secretary of War, and other high official 
 dignitaries, and put affairs in such a train that he had lit- 
 tle doubb of the ultimate appointment of his nephew to a 
 cadetship at West Point. 
 
 The same evening, wishing to avoid the stage route over 
 the mountains, he took with his party the night boat for 
 Richmond, where in due time they arrived, and whence 
 they took the valley line of coaches that passed through 
 Tip-Top, which they reached upon the morning of the 
 fourth day of their long journey. Here they found Major 
 Warfield's carriage waiting for him, and here they were to 
 separate — Major Warfield and Capitola to turn off to Hur- 
 ricane Hall, and Herbert Greyson to keep on the route to 
 the town of Staunton. 
 
HERBERT GREFSON. 
 
 73 
 
 It was as tlie three sat in the parlor of the little hotel, 
 where the stage stopped to change horses, their adieus were 
 made. 
 
 Kemember, Herbert, that I am willing to go to the 
 utmost extent of my power to benefit the good widow and 
 her son, wlso were so kind to my nephew in his need. 
 Eemember that I hold it a sacred debt that I owe them. 
 Tell them so. And mind, Herbert, I shall expect you back 
 in a week at farthest.'^ 
 
 " I shall be punctual, sir ! God bless you my dear 
 uncle ! you have made me very happy in being the bearer 
 of such glad tidings to the widow and the fatherless. And 
 now I hear the horn blowing — Good-bye, uncle ! Good-bye, 
 Capitola. I am going to carry them great joy, such great 
 joy, uncle, as you who have everything you want, can 
 scarcely imagine." And, shaking hands heartily with his 
 companions, Herbert ran through the door, and jumped 
 aboard the coach just as the impatient driver was about to 
 leave him behind. 
 
 As soon as the coach had rolled out of sight Major War- 
 field handed Capitola into his carriage that had long been 
 waiting, and took the seat by her side — much to the scau- 
 dalization of Wool, who muttered to his horses : 
 
 " There, I told you so ! I said how he'd go and bring 
 home a young wife, and behold he's gone and done it 
 
 ''Uncle I" said Capitola, as the carriage rolled lazily 
 along — '' Uncle ! do you know you never once asked Her- 
 bert the name of the widow you are going to befriend, and 
 that he never told you \" 
 
 *' By George ! that is true ! how strange ! yet I did not 
 seem to miss the name. How did it ever happen, Capi- 
 tola ? did he omit it on purpose, do you think 
 
 Why, no, uncle ! he, boy-like, always spoke of them 
 as ' Traverse ' and ' Traverse's mother f and you, like your- 
 self, called her nothing but the ' poor widow, ^ and the 
 ' struggling mother/ and the ' noble woman,^ and so on ; 
 
HERBERT GREYSON. 
 
 and her son. as the 'boy/ the ^ youth/ ''young Traverse/ 
 Herbert's ' friend/ etc. I, for my part., had some curiosity 
 to see whether you and Herbert would go on talking of 
 them forever, witliout having to use tlieir surnames. And 
 behold he even went off without naming them !" 
 
 ^' By George ! and so he did. It was the strangest over- 
 .ngiit. But 111 write as soon as I get home and ask him."' 
 
 '^0, uncle, jnst for the fnn of the thing, wait until he 
 comes back and see how long it will be and how much he 
 will talk of them without mentioning their names.'^ 
 
 Ha ! ha ! ha ! so I will. Cap! so I will. Besides, what- 
 ever their names are, it's nothing to me. 'A rose by any 
 other name would smell as sweet,' you know. And if she 
 is ' Mrs. Tagfoot Waddle,' I shall still think so good a 
 woman exalted as a Montmorencie ! — Mind there. Wool ! 
 This road is getting rough !" 
 
 Over it now, Marster !" said Wool, after a few heavy 
 jolts — ''Over it now, Missus ! and de rest of de way is per- 
 fectly delightful. " 
 
 Cap looked out of the window, and saw before her a 
 beautiful piece of scenery — first, just below them, the wild 
 mountain stream of the Demon's Run, and beyond it the 
 wild dell dented into the side of the mountain, like the 
 deep print of an enormous horse's hoof, in the midst of 
 which gleaming redly among its richly tinted autumn 
 woods, stood Hurricane Hall. 
 
MAE AH EOCKS. 15 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MAEAH ROCKE. 
 
 " There sits upon her matron face 
 A tender and a thoughtful grace, 
 Though very still, —for great distress 
 Hath left this patient mournfulness." 
 
 Beside an old, rocky road^ leading from the to^n of 
 Stannton, out to the forest-crowned liills beyond, stood alone, 
 a little, gray stone cottage, in the midst of a garden enclosed 
 by a low, molderiDg stone wall. A few gnarled and twisted 
 frnifc trees^ long past bearings stood around the lionse, that 
 their leafless branches could not be said to shade. A little 
 w^ooden gate, led up an old paved, walk to the front door, on 
 each side of which were large windows. 
 
 In this poor cottage^ remote from other neighbors^ dwelt 
 the friends of Herbert Greyson, the widow Kocke and her 
 son Traverse. 
 
 Xo one knew who she was, or whence, or why she came. 
 Some fifteen years before she had appeared in the town, 
 clothed in rusty mourning and accompanied by a boy of 
 about two years of age. She had rented that cottage, fur- 
 nished it poorly, and had settled there, supporting herself 
 and child by needle-work. 
 
 At the time that Doctor Greyson died and his widow 
 and son Avere left perfectly destitute, and it became neces- 
 sarv for Mrs. Grevson to look out for an humble lodo^ino* 
 wliere she conld find the united advantages of cheapness, 
 eleanlincss, and pure air, she was providentially led to 
 inquire at the cottage of the widow Eocke, whom she found 
 only too glad to increase her meagre income by letting half 
 
her little house to such unexceptionable tenants as the 
 widow G-reysou and her son. 
 
 And thus commenced between the two poor young 
 women and the two boys an acquaintance that ripened into 
 friendship, and thence into that devoted love so seldom seen 
 in this world. 
 
 Their households became united. One fire, one candle 
 and one table served the little family, and thus considerable 
 expense was saved as well as much social comfort gained. 
 And when the lads grew too old to sleep with their mothers, 
 one bed held the two boys and the other accommodated the 
 two women. And despite toil, want, care — the sorrow for 
 the dead and the neglect of the living, this was a loving, 
 contented and cheerful little household. How much of 
 their private history these women might have confided to 
 each other, was not known, but it was certain that they 
 continued fast friends up to the time of the death of Mrs. 
 Greyson. After which the widow Kocke assumed a double 
 burthen, and became a second mother to the orphan boy, 
 until Herbert himself, ashamed of taxing her small means, 
 ran away, as he had said, and went to sea. 
 
 Every year had Herbert written to his kind foster- 
 mother, and his dear brother, as he called Traverse. And 
 at the end of every prosperous voyage, when he had a little 
 money he had sent them funds ; but not always did thcoe 
 letters or remittances reach the widow's cottage, and long 
 seasons of intense anxiety would be suffered by her, for the 
 fate of her sailor boy, as she always called Herbert. Only 
 three times in all these years had Herbert found time and 
 means to come down and see them — and that was long ago. 
 It was many months over two years since they had even 
 received a letter from him. And now the poor widow and 
 her son were almost tempted to think that their sailor boy 
 had quite forsaken them. 
 
 It is near the close of a late autumnal evening, that I 
 
MAEAH EOCKE. 
 
 17 
 
 shall introduce you, reader, into the interior of the widow's 
 cottage. 
 
 You enter by the little wooden gate, pass up the 
 moldering, paved walk between the old, leafless lilac 
 bushes, and pass through the front door, right into a large, 
 clean, but poor-looking, sitting-room and kitchen. 
 
 Everything was old, though neatly and comfortably 
 arranged about the room : a faded home-made carpet cov- 
 ered the floor, a threadbare crimson curtain hung before 
 the window, a ricketty walnut table, dark with age, sat 
 under the window against the wall ; old walnut chairs were 
 placed each side of it ; old plated candlesticks, with the 
 silver all worn off, graced the mantel-piece ; a good fire — a 
 cheap comfort in that well-wooded country — blazed upon 
 the hearth ; on the right side of the fire-place a few shelves 
 contained sonae well-worn books, a flute, a few minerals 
 and other little treasures belonging to Traverse ; on the 
 left hand there was a dresser containing the little delf 
 ware, tea-service and plates and dishes of the small family. 
 
 Before the fire, with her knitting in her hand, sat 
 Marah Eocke, watching the kettle as it hung singing over 
 the blaze, and the oven of biscuits that sat baking upon the 
 hearth. 
 
 Marah Rocke was at this time about thirty-five years of 
 age, and of a singularly refined and delicate aspect for one 
 of her supposed rank ; her little form, slight and flexible as 
 that of a young girl, was clothed in a poor, but neat, black 
 dress, relieved by a pure white collar around her throat ; 
 her jet black hair was parted plainly over her low, sweet 
 brow," brought down each side her thin cheeks, and gath- 
 ered into a bunch at the back of her shapely little head ; 
 her face was oval, with regular features and pale olive com- 
 plexion ; serious lips, closed in pensive thought, and soft, 
 dark-brown eyes, full of tender affections and sorrowful 
 memories, and too often cast down in meditation beneath 
 the heavy shadows of their long, thick eyelashes, com- 
 
78 
 
 MARAH KOOKE. 
 
 pleted the melancholy beauty of a countenance not often 
 seen among the hard-working children of toil. 
 
 Marah Rocke was a very hard-working woman, sewing 
 all day long and knitting through the twilight, and then 
 again resuming her needle by candle-light, and sewing 
 until midnight, and yet Marah Rocke made but a poor and 
 precarious living for herself and son — needle-work, so ill- 
 paid in large cities, is even worse paid in the country 
 towns, and though the cottage hearth was never cold, the 
 widow^s meals were often scant. Lately her son, Traverse, 
 who occasionally earned a trifle of money by doing, with 
 all his might, whatever his hand could find to do,'' had 
 been engaged by a grocer in the town to deliver his goods 
 to his customers during the illness of the regular porter ; 
 for which, as he was only a substitute, he received the very 
 moderate sum of twenty-five cents a day. 
 
 This occupation took Traverse from home at daybreak 
 in the morning, and kept him absent until eight o'clock at 
 night. Nevertheless, the widow always gave him a hot 
 breakfast before he went out in the morning, and kept a 
 comfortable supper waiting for him at night. 
 
 It was during the last social meal that the youth would 
 tell his mother all that had occurred in his world outside 
 the home that day, and all that he expected to come to 
 pass the next, for Traverse was wonderfully hopeful and 
 sanguine. 
 
 And after supper the evening was generally spent by 
 Traverse in hard study, beside his mother's sewing-stand. 
 
 Upon this evening, when the widow sat waiting for her 
 son, he seemed to be detained longer than usual. She 
 almost feared that the biscuits would be burned, or, if 
 taken from the oven, be cold, before he would come to 
 enjoy them ; but just as she had looked for the twentieth 
 time at the little black walnut clock that stood between 
 those old plated candlesticks on the mantel -piece, the 
 sound of quick, light, joyous footsteps was heard resounding 
 
MAEAH EOOKE. 
 
 79 
 
 along the stony street^ the gate was opened^ a hand hiid 
 upon the door-Latch, and the next instant entered a jonth 
 some seventeen years of age. clad in a homespun suit^ 
 whose coarse material and clumsy make could not disguise 
 his noble form or graceful air. 
 
 He was like his mother, with the same oval face, regu- 
 lar features^ and pale olive complexion, with the same full, 
 serious lips, the same dark tender brown eyes, shaded by 
 long black lashes, and the same wavy, jet black hair — but 
 there was a dilferencc in the character of their faces : where 
 hers showed refinement and melancholy, his exhibited 
 strength and cheerfulness — his loving brown eyes, instead 
 of drooping sadly under the shadow of their laches, looked 
 you brightly and confidently full in the face — and lastly, 
 his black hair curled crisply aronnd a broad, high forehead, 
 royal with intellect. Such was the boy that entered the 
 room and came joyously forward to his mother, clasping 
 his arm around her neck, saluting her on both cheeks, and 
 then, laughingly claiming his childish privilege of kissing 
 " the pretty little black mole on her throat."' 
 
 "TVill you never have outgrown your babyhood. Trav- 
 erse asked his mother, smiling at his affectionate ardor. 
 
 •''Yes, dear little mother I in everything but the priv- 
 ilege of fondling yon I that feature of babyhood I never 
 shall outgrow exclaimed the youth, kissing her again with 
 all the ardor of liis true and affectionate heart, and starting 
 up to help her set the table. 
 
 He dragged the table otit from under the window, spread 
 the cloth, and placed the cups and saucers upon it, while 
 his mother took the biscuits from the oven and made the 
 tea ; so that in ten minutes from the moment in which he 
 entered the room, mother and son were seated at their frugal 
 supper. 
 
 '■•I suppose, to-morrow being Saturday, you will have to 
 get up earlier than usual to go to the store ?' said his 
 mother. 
 
80 
 
 MARAH ROCKE. 
 
 *'No, ma'am !" replied the boy, looking up brightly, as 
 if he were telling a piece of good news. I am not wanted 
 any longer ! Mr. Spicer^s own man has got well again and 
 returned to work.^' 
 
 '*So you are discharged said Mrs. Rocke, sadly. 
 
 Yes, ma'am ! but just think how fortunate that is ! 
 for I shall have a chance to-morrow of mending the fence, 
 and nailing up the gate, and sawing wood enough to last 
 you a week, besides doing all the other little odd jobs that 
 have been waiting for me so long ; and then on Monday I 
 shall get more work \" 
 
 I wish I were sure of it \" said the widow, whose hopes 
 had long since been too deeply crushed to permit her ever to 
 be sanguine. 
 
 When their supper was over, and the humble service 
 cleared away, the youth took his books and applied himself 
 to study on the opposite side of the table at which his 
 mother sat busied with her needle-work. And there fell a 
 perfect silence between them. 
 
 The widow's mind was anxious and her heart heavy ; 
 many cares never communicated to cloud the bright sunshine 
 of her boy's soul, oppressed hers. The rent had fallen 
 fearfully behind hand, and the landlord threatened, unless 
 the money could be raised to pay him, to seize their fur- 
 niture and eject them from the premises. And how this 
 money was to be raised, she could not see at all ! True, this 
 meek Christian had often in her sad experience proved God's 
 special providence at her utmost need, and now she believed 
 in His ultimate interference, but in what manner He would 
 now interpose she could not imagine, and her faith grew 
 dim, and her hope dark, and her love cold. 
 
 While she was revolving these sad thoughts in her mind. 
 Traverse suddenly thrust aside his books, and with a deep 
 sigh, turned to his mother, and said : 
 
 Mother, what do you think has ever become of Her- 
 bert r 
 
MARAH KOCKE. 
 
 81 
 
 do not know. I dread to conjecture. It lias now- 
 been nearly three years since we heard from him I" ex- 
 claimed the widow, with the tears welling up to her brown 
 eyes. 
 
 " You think he has been lost at sea, mother, but I 
 don^t ! 1 simply think his letters haye been lost ! And 
 somehow to-night I can^t fix my mind on my lessons, or 
 keep it off Herbert ! He is running in my head all the 
 time ! If I were fanciful now, I sJwuId believe that Her- 
 bert; was dead and his spirit was about me ! — Good heavens 
 mother ! whose step is that ?" suddenly exclaimed the youth, 
 starting up and assuming an attitude of intense listening, 
 as a fi.rm and ringing step, attended by a peculiar whistling 
 approached up the street and entered the gate. 
 
 It is Herbert ! it is Herbert \" cried Traverse, start- 
 ing across the room and tearing open the door with a sud- 
 denness that threw the entering guest forward upon his own 
 bosom, but his arms were soon around the new-comer, clasp- 
 ing him closely there, while he breathlessly exclaimed : 
 
 Oh, Herbert ! I am so glad to see you ! Oh, Herbei-t ! 
 why didn't you come or write all this long time ? Oh, 
 Herbert ! how long have you been ashore ? I was just 
 talking about you 
 
 " Dear fellow ! — dear fellow ! I have come to make 
 you glad at last, and repay all your great kindness; but now 
 let me speak to my second mother,^-' said Herbert, return- 
 ing Traverse's embrace, and then gently extricating himself 
 and going to where Mrs. Eocke stood up, pale, trembling 
 and incredulous ; she had not yet recovered the great shock 
 of his unexpected appearance. 
 
 Dear mother, won't you welcome me asked Her- 
 bert, going up to her. His words dissolved the spell that 
 bound her ; throwing her arms around his neck and burst- 
 ing into tears, she exclaimed : 
 
 " Oh, my son ! my son ! my sailor boy ! my other child I 
 how glad I am to have you back once morel "Welcome ? — 
 
82 
 
 MARAH ROOKE. 
 
 to be sure you are welcome ! — is my own circulating blood 
 welcome back to my heart ? — but sit you down and rest by 
 the fire ! I will get your supper directly I" 
 
 Sweet mother, do not take the trouble ! I supped 
 twenty miles back where the stage stopped/^ 
 And will you take nothing at all ?" 
 
 ^'Nothing, dear mother, but your kind hand to kiss 
 again and again !" said the youth, pressing that hand to his 
 lips, and then allowing the widow to put him into a chair 
 right in front of the fire. 
 
 Traverse sat on one side of him and his mother on the 
 other, each holding a hand of his, and gazing on him with 
 mingled incredulity, surprise and delight, as if, indeed, 
 they could not realize his presence except by devouring 
 him with their eyes. 
 
 And for the next half-hour all their talk was as wild 
 and incoherent as the conversation of long-parted friends 
 suddenly brought together, is apt to be. 
 
 It was all made up of hasty questions, hurried one upon 
 another, so as to leave but little chance to have any of them 
 answered, and wild exclamations and disjointed sketches of 
 travel, interrupted by frequent ejaculations ; yet through 
 all the widow and her son, perhaps through the quickness 
 of their love as well as of their intellect, managed to get 
 some knowledge of the past three years of their sailor 
 boy^s life and adventures, and they entirely vindicated his 
 constancy when they learned how frequently and regularly 
 he had written, though they had never received his letters. 
 
 '^And now,^^ said Herbert, looking from side to side, 
 from mother to son, I have told you all my adventures, I 
 am dying to tell you something that concerns yourselves.'' 
 
 ^' That concerns tts f exclaimed mother and son in a 
 breath. 
 
 "Yes, ma^am ! yes, sir ! that concerns you both emi- 
 nently ; but first of all, let me ask how you are getting on 
 at this present time ?" 
 
MARAH ROCKE. 
 
 88 
 
 Oh, as usual/^ said the widow, smiling, for she did 
 not wish to damp the spirits of her sailor boy ; " as usual, 
 of course. Traverse has not been able to accomplish his 
 darling purpose of entering the Seminary yet ; but — " 
 
 ^'But Fm getting on quite well with my education for 
 all that,'-* interrupted Traverse ; '^for I belong to Dr. Day^s 
 Bible class in the Sabbath school, which is a class of young 
 men, you know ! and the doctor is so good as to think that 
 I have some mental gifts worth cultivating, so he does not 
 confine his instructions to me to the Bible class alone, but 
 permits me to come to him in his library, at Willow-Heights 
 for an hour, twice a week, when he examines me in Latin 
 and Algebra, and sets me new exercises, which I study and 
 write out at night ; so that you see I am doing very well/^ 
 
 '^Indeed, the doctor, who is a great scholar, and one 
 of the trustees and examiners of the Seminary, says that he 
 does not know any young man titer e, with all the advan- 
 tages of the institution around him, who is getting along 
 60 fast as Traverse is, with all the difficulties he has to 
 encounter. The doctor says it is all because Traverse is 
 profoundly in earnest, and that one of these days he will 
 be 
 
 " There, mother ! don^t repeat all the doctor's kind 
 speeches ! He only says such things to encourage a poor 
 boy in the pursuit of knowledge under difficulties,^^ said 
 Traverse, blushing and laughing. 
 
 — Will be an honor to his kindred, country and race, 
 said Herbert, finishing the widow's incomplete quotation. 
 
 It was something like that, indeed,'" she said, nod- 
 ding and smiling. 
 
 You do me proud V' said Traverse, touching his fore- 
 lock with comic gravity. But,'" inquired he, suddenly 
 changing his tone and becoming serious, was it not — is it 
 not — noble in the doctor to give up an hour of his precious 
 time twice a week, for no other cause than to help a poor, 
 struggling fellow like me up the ladder of learning V 
 
S4 
 
 MARAH ROCKE. 
 
 I should think it was ; but he is not the first noble 
 heart I ever heard of," said Herbert, with an affectionate 
 glance that directed the compliment, nor is his the last 
 that you will meet with. I must tell you the good news 
 now/^ 
 
 Oh, tell it I tell it I have you got a ship of your own, 
 Herbert T 
 
 " No, nor is it about myself that I am anxious to tell 
 you. Mrs. Eocke, you may have heard that I had a rich 
 uncle, whom I had never seen, because, from the time of 
 my dear mother^s marriage to that of her death, she and 
 her brother, this very uncle, had been estranged ?" 
 
 Yes,'^ said the widow, speaking in a very low tone, 
 and bending her head over her work ; '*yes, I have heard 
 so ; but your mother and myself seldom alluded to the sub- 
 ject.^' 
 
 Exactly ! mother never was fond of talking of him I 
 Well, when I came on shore, and went, as usual, up to the 
 old Washington House, who should I meet with, all of a 
 sudden, but this rich uncle. He had come to New York 
 to claim a little girl whom I happened to know, and who 
 happened to recognize me, and name me to him. Well, I 
 knew him only by his name ; but he knew me both by my 
 name and by my likeness to his sister, and received me 
 with wonderful kindness, offered me a home under his 
 roof, and promised to get for me an appointment to West 
 Point. Are you not glad ? — say, are you not glad V he 
 exclaimed, jocosely clapping his hand upon Traversers 
 knee, and then turning around and looking at his mother. 
 
 " Oh, yes, indeed I am very glad, Herbert V exclaimed 
 Traverse, heartily grasping and squeezing his friend's 
 hand. 
 
 ^'Yes, yes, I am indeed sincerely glad of your good 
 fortune, dear boy," said the widow ; but her voice was very 
 faint, and her head bent still lower over her work. 
 
 " Ha ! ha I ha 1 I knew you'd be glad for me; but now 
 
as 
 
 I require you to be glad for yourselves. Now listen : 
 When I told my honest old uncle — for he is honest, with 
 all his eccentricities — when I told him of what friends you 
 had been to me — " 
 
 Oh not you did not! Tou did not mention us to 
 HIM V cried the widow, suddenly starting up and clasping 
 her hands together, while she gazed in an agony of en- 
 treaty into the face of the speaker. 
 
 " Why not ? — why in the world not ? Was there any- 
 thing improper in doing so ?" inquired Herbert, in aston- 
 ishment, while Traverse himself gazed in amazement at 
 the excessive and unaccountable agitation of his mother. 
 
 Why, mother ? Why shouldn^t he have mentioned 
 us ? Was there anything strange or wrong in that in- 
 quired Traverse. 
 
 *'No, oh, no ; certainly not ! — I forgot, it was so sud- 
 den, said the widow sinking back in her chair and strug- 
 gling for self-control. 
 
 Why, mother, what in the world is the meaning of 
 this asked her son. 
 
 " Nothing, nothing, boy ; only we are poor folks, and 
 should not be forced upon the attention of a wealthy gentle- 
 man, she said, with a cold, unnatural smile, putting her 
 hand to her brow and striving to gain composure. Then, 
 as Herbert continued silent and amazed, she said to him : 
 
 Go on — go on — you were saying something about my 
 — about Major Warfield's kindness to you — go on." And 
 she took up her work and tried to sew, but she was as pale 
 as death, and trembling all over at the same time, while every 
 nerve was acute with attention to catch every word that 
 might fall from the lips of Herbert. 
 
 Well,'^ recommenced the young sailor, I was just 
 saying that when I mentioned you and Traverse to my 
 uncle, and told him how kind and disinterested you had 
 been to me — you being like a mother, and Traverse like a 
 brother, — he was really moved almost to tears I Yes, I de- 
 
86 
 
 MAKAH ^OCKfi. 
 
 clare I saw the rain-drops glittering in his tempestuous old 
 orbs, as he walked the floor muttering to himself, 'Poor 
 woman — good, excellent woman/ 
 
 While Herbert spoke, the widow dropped her work 
 without seeming to know that she had done so ; her fingers 
 twitched so nervously that she had to hold both hands 
 clasped together, and her eyes were fixed in intense anxiety 
 upon the face of the youth, as she repeated : 
 
 ^' Go on — oh, go on ! What more did he say when you 
 talked of us r 
 
 " He said everything that was kind and good. He said 
 that he could not do too much to compensate you for the 
 past/^ 
 
 Oh ! did he say that T' exclaimed the widow, breath- 
 lessly. 
 
 Yes — and a great deal more ! — that all that he could 
 do for 3^ou or your son was but a sacred debt he owed you/^ 
 
 " Oh, he acknowledged it ! he acknowledged it ! thank 
 heaven ! oh, thank heaven I Go on, Herbert ! Go on !" 
 
 Ho said that he would in future take the whole charge 
 of the boy's advancement in life, and that he would place 
 you above want forever ; that he would, in fact, compensate 
 for the past by doing you and yours full justice/^ 
 
 '^'^ Thank heaven ! Oh, thank heaven \" exclaimed the 
 widow, no longer concealing her agitation, but throwing 
 down her Avork, and starting up and pacing the floor in 
 excess of joy. 
 
 ^•'Mother," said Traverse, uneasily, going to her and 
 taking lier hand, mother, what is the meaning of all this? 
 Do come and sit down V 
 
 She immediately turned and walked back to the fire, and 
 resting her hands upon the back of the chair, bent upon 
 them a face radiant with youthful beauty. Her cheeks were 
 brightly flushed, her eyes were sparkling with light, her 
 whole countenance resplendant with joy — she scarcely 
 seemed twenty years of age. 
 
MARAH EOCKE. 
 
 87 
 
 Mother, tell us what it is/^ pleaded Traverse, who 
 feared for her sanity. 
 
 Oh, boys, lam so happy ! at last ! at Last ! after eight- 
 een years of patient ' hoping against hope !' I shall go 
 mad with joy 
 
 *^ Mother,''^ said Herbert, softly. 
 
 "■Children, I am not crazy! I know what I am say- 
 ing, though I did not intend to say it ! And you shall 
 know, too ! But first I must ask Herbert another ques- 
 tion : Herbe]"t, are you very sure that he — Major War- 
 field, — knew Avho we were 
 
 '^^Yes, indeed. Didn^t I tell him all about you? 
 Your troubles, your struggles, your disinterestedness, and 
 all your history since ever I knew you ?" answered Her- 
 bert, who was totally unconscious that he had left Major 
 Warfield in ignorance of one very important fact — her s^ir- 
 name. 
 
 " Then you are sure he knew who he was talking 
 about r 
 
 ''Oi course, he did \" 
 
 *'He could not have failed to do so, indeed ! But, 
 Herbert, did he mention any other important fact, that you 
 have not yet communicated to us ?" 
 
 "No, ma'am.'' 
 
 " Did he allude to any previous acquaintance with 
 us ?" 
 
 "iSTo, ma'am, unless it might have been in the words I 
 repeated to you — there was nothing else ! — except that he 
 bade me hurry to you and make you glad with his message, 
 and return as soon as possible to let him know whether 
 you accept his offers." 
 
 " Accept them ! accept them ! of course I do ! I have 
 waited for them for years ! — oh ! children ! you gaze on me 
 as if you thought me mad ! I am not so ! nor can I now 
 explain myself ! for since he has not chosen to be confiden- 
 tial with Herbert, I can not be so prematurely-I but you 
 
B8 
 
 THE ROOM OF THE TRAP-DOOR, 
 
 will know all, when Herbert shall have borne back my 
 
 message to Major Warfield/' 
 
 It was, indeed, a mad evening in the cottage. And 
 even when the little family had separated and retired to 
 bed the two youths lying together, as formerly, could not 
 sleep for talking ; while the widow, on her lonely couch, 
 lay awake for joy. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE ROOM OF THE TRAP-DOOR. 
 
 "If you have hitherto concealed this sight, 
 Let it be tenable, in your silence still ; 
 And whatsoever else doth hap to-night, 
 Give it an understanding, but no tongue." 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 Capitola meanwhile, in the care of the major, arrived 
 at Hurricane Hall, much to the discomfiture of good Mrs. 
 Condiment, who was quite unprepared to expect the new 
 inmate ; and when Major Warfield said : 
 
 Mrs. Condiment, this is your young lady, take her up 
 to the best bedroom, where she can take off her bonnet 
 and shawl,"*' the worthy dame, thinking secretly : ** The 
 old fool has gone and married a young wife, sure enough ; 
 a mere chit of a child — made a very deep courtesy, and a 
 very queer cough, and said : 
 
 I'm mortified. Madam, at the fire not being made in 
 the best bedroom; but then I was not warned of your com- 
 ing. Madam \" 
 
 Madam ! Is the old woman crazed ? This child is no 
 ' madam !' She is Miss Black, my ward, the daughter of 
 a deceased friend V' sharply exclaimed Old Hurricane. 
 " Excuse me, Miss, I did not know ; I was unprepared 
 
THE ROOM OF THE TEA?-DOOR. 
 
 SO 
 
 to receive a young lady. Shall I attend you, Miss Black 
 said the old lady in a mollified tone. 
 
 '^If you please/^ said Capitola, and arose to follow her. 
 Not expecting you. Miss, I have no proper room pre- 
 pared — most of them are not furnished, and in some, the 
 chimneys are foul ; indeed, the only tolerable room I can 
 put you in is the room with the trap-door — if you would 
 not object to it said Mrs. Condiment, as with a candle 
 in her hand, she preceded Capitola along the gloomy hall, 
 and then opened a door that led into a narrow passage. 
 
 A room with a trap-door ? — that^s a curious thing ; 
 but why should I object to it ! I don't at all. I think I 
 should rather like it,^"* said Capitola. 
 
 I will show it to you and tell you about it, and then 
 if you like it, well and good ! If not, I shall have to put 
 you in a room that leaks, and has swallows nests in the 
 chimney,^' answered Mrs. Condiment, as she led the way 
 along the narrow passages, and up and down dark, black 
 stairs, and through bare and deserted rooms, and along 
 other passages until she reached a remote chamber, opened 
 the door, and invited her guest to enter. 
 
 It was a large shadowy room, through which the single 
 candle shed such a faint, uncertain light, that at first Cap- 
 itola could see nothing but black masses looming up 
 through the darkness. 
 
 But when Mrs. Condiment advanced and set the candle 
 upon the chimney-piece, and Capitola's sight accommodated 
 itself to the scene, she saw that upon the right of the chim- 
 ney-piece stood a tall tester bedstead, curtained with very 
 dark crimson serge ; on the left hand, thick curtains of the 
 same color draped the windows. Between these windows, 
 directly opposite the bed, stood a dark mahogany dressing 
 bureau, with a large looking-glass ; a wash-stand in the 
 left hand corner of the chimney-place ; and a rocking-chair 
 and two plain chairs completed the furniture of this room, 
 that I am particular in describing, as upon the simple 
 
THE ROOM 05" THE TRAl'-DOOS. 
 
 accident of its arrangement^ depended, upon two occasions, 
 the life and honor of its occupant. There was no carpet 
 on the floor, with the exception of a large old Turkey rug 
 which was laid before the fire-place. 
 
 Here, my dear, this room is perfectly dry and com- 
 fortable, and we always keep kindlings built up in the fire- 
 jolace ready to light in case a guest should come," said 
 Mrs. Condiment, applying a match to the wastepaper 
 under the pineknots and logs that filled the chimney. 
 Soon there arose a cheerful blaze that lighted up all the 
 room, glowing on the crimson serge bed-curtains and win- 
 dow-curtains, and flashing upon the large looking-glass 
 between them. 
 
 " There, my dear ; sit down, and make yourself com- 
 fortable,'^ said Mrs. Condiment, drawing up the rocking- 
 chair. 
 
 Capitola threw herself into it, and looked around and 
 around the room, and then into the face of the old lady, 
 saying : 
 
 But what about the trap-door ? — I see no trap-door V 
 ^^Ah, yes — look V said Mrs. Condiment, lifting up the 
 rug and revealing a large drop some four feet square, that 
 was kept up in its place by a short iron bolt. ^^'Now, my 
 dear, take care of yourself, for this bolt slides very easily, 
 and if, while you happened to be walking across this place, 
 you were to push the bolt back, the trap-door would drop 
 and you fall down — heaven knows where 
 
 Is there a cellar under there?" inquired Capitola, 
 gazing with interest upon the door. 
 
 ^^Lord knows, child ; I don^t ! I did once make one 
 of the nigger men let it down, so I could look in it ; but^. 
 Lord, child, I saw nothing but a great, black, deep 
 vacuity, without bottom or sides ! It put such a horror 
 over me, that I never looked down there since, and never 
 want to, Tm sure." 
 
 Ugh ! for goodness sake what was the horrid thing 
 
THE ROOM OF THE TEAP-DOOR. 91 
 
 made for I'^ ejaculated Capitola, gazing as if fascinated by 
 the trap. 
 
 The Lord only kno'^s, my dear ; for it was raade long 
 before ever the house came into the major's family. But 
 they do say whispered Mrs. Condiment, mysteriously. 
 
 ^'Ahl what do they say?'" asked Capitola, eagerly 
 throwing off her bonnet and shawl, and settling herself to 
 hear some thrilling explanation. 
 
 Mrs. Condiment sluwly replaced the rug, drew another 
 chair to the side of the young girl, and said : 
 
 ^' Tbey do say it was — a trap for Indians.'' 
 A trap for Indians ?'' 
 
 Yes, my dear. You must know that this room 
 belongs to the oldest part of tlx e house. It was all built as 
 far back as the old French and Indian war : but this room 
 belonged to the part that dates back to the first settlement 
 of the country.''' 
 
 ^' Then I shall like it better than any room in the house, 
 for I doat on old p)laces with stories to them. Go on, 
 please.'' 
 
 Yes, my dear. Well, first of all, this place was a part 
 of the grant of land given to the Le Xoirs. And the first 
 owner, old Henri Le Xoir, was said to be one of the grand- 
 est villains that ever was lieard of. Well, you see, he 
 lived out here in his hunting-lodge, which is this part of 
 the house."'" 
 
 Oh, my I then this very room was a part of the old 
 pioneer hunter's lodge ?''* 
 
 Yes, my dear, and they do say that he had this place 
 made as a trap for the Indians. Yuu see, they say he was 
 on terms of friendship wirh xhc Succapoos, a little tribe of 
 Indians that was nearly wasted away, though among the 
 few that was left there v\-ere s?^ eral braves I Well, he 
 wanted to buy a certain large tract of land fruni this tribe, 
 and they were all willing to sell it, except these half a dozen 
 warriors, who wanted it for camping-ground. So what 
 
92 
 
 THE ROOM OF THE TKAP-DOOR. 
 
 does this awful villain do, but lay a snare for them. He 
 makes a great feast, in his lodge and invites his red 
 brothers to come to it ; and they come. Then he proposes 
 that they stand upon his blanket and all swear eternal 
 brotherhood, which he made the poor souls believe was the 
 right way to do it. Then when they all six stood close 
 together as they could stand, with hands held up touching 
 above their heads, all of a sudden the black villain sprung 
 the bolt, the trap fell, and the six men went down — down, 
 the Lord knows where. 
 
 Oh, that is horrible ! horrible \" cried Capitola, ^* but 
 where do you think they fell to P'"* 
 
 I tell you the Lord only knows. They say that it is a 
 bottomless abyss, with no outlet but one crooked one miles 
 long that reaches to the Demon's Punch Bowl. But if 
 there is a bottom to that abyss, that bottom is strewn with 
 human bones.'"' 
 
 " Oh, horrible ! most horrible V exclaimed Capitola. 
 " Perhaps you are afraid to sleep here by yourself ; if so, 
 there's the damp room " 
 
 Oh, no ! oh, no ! I am not afraid. I have been in too 
 much deadly peril from the living ever to fear the dead, 
 No, I like the room, with its strange legend ; but tell me, 
 did that human devil escape without punishment from the 
 tribe of the murdered victims T' 
 
 Lord, child, how were they to know of what was done? 
 There wasn't a man left to tell the tale. Besides, the tribe 
 was now brought down to a few old men, women, and 
 children. So, when he showed a bill of sale for the land he 
 wanted, signed by the six braves — ' their marks ' in six 
 blood-red arrows, there was none to contradict him." 
 
 How was his villiany found out ?" 
 
 Well, it was said he married, had a family, and pros- 
 pered for a long while ; but that the poor Succapoos always 
 suspected him, and bore a long grudge, and that when the 
 sons of the murdered warriors grew up to be powerful 
 
THE ROOM OF THE TRAP-DOOR. 
 
 93 
 
 braves, one night they set upon the house and massacred 
 the whole family except the eldest son, a lad of ten, who 
 escaped and ran away and gave the alarm to the block- 
 house, where there were soldiers stationed. It is said that 
 after killing and scalping father, mother, and children, the 
 savages threw the dead bodies down that trap-door. And 
 they had just set fire to the house, and were dancing their 
 wild dance around it, when the soldiers arrived and dis- 
 persed the party, and put out the fire.^' 
 Oh, what bloody, bloody days I" 
 
 " Yes, my dear, and as I told you before, if that horrible 
 pit 7ias any bottom, that bottom is strewn with human 
 skeletons 
 
 ^'It is an awful thought " 
 
 ^^As I said, my dear, if you feel at all afraid you can 
 have another room.'' 
 
 " Afraid — -what of ? Those skeletons, supposing them 
 to be there, cannot hurt me. I am not afraid of the dead 
 — I only dread the living, and not them much either, said 
 Capitola. 
 
 Well, my dear, you will want a waiting-woman, any- 
 how, and I think I will send Pitapat to wait on you ; she 
 can sleep on a pallet in your room, and be some company." 
 " And who is Pitapat, Mrs. Condiment 
 
 Pitapat ? Lord, child, she is the youngest of the 
 housemaids. Fve called her Pitapat ever since she was a 
 little one beginning to walk, when she used to steal away 
 from her mother, Dorcas, the cook, and I would hear her 
 little feet coming pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat up the dark stairs up 
 to my room. As it was often the only sound to be heard 
 in the still house, I grew to call my little visitor Pitapat." 
 
 Then let me have Pitapat by all means. I like com- 
 pany, especially company that I can send away when I 
 choose." 
 
 "Very well, my dear, and now I think you^d better 
 smooth your hair and come down with me to tea, for it is 
 
94 
 
 THE ROOM OF THE TKAP-DOOB. 
 
 full time, and the major, as you may know, is not the most 
 patient of men/' 
 
 Capitola took a brush from her travelling-bag, hastily 
 arranged her black ringlets, and announced herself ready. 
 
 They left the room, and traversed the same labyrinth of 
 passages, stairs, empty rooms and halls, back to the dining- 
 room, where a comfortable fire burned and a substantial 
 supper was spread. 
 
 Old Hurricane took Capitola's hand witli a hearty 
 grasp, and placed her in a chair at the side, and then took 
 his own seat at the foot of the table. 
 
 Mrs. Condiment sat at the head and poured out the tea. 
 Uncle," said Capitola, suddenly, what is under the 
 trap-door in my room 
 
 What ! have they put you in that room exclaimed 
 the old man, hastily looking up. 
 
 There was no other one prepared, sir," said the house- 
 keeper, 
 
 Besides, I like it very well, uncle," said Capitola. 
 
 "Humph! humph! humph!" grunted the old man, 
 only half satisfied. 
 
 " But uncle, what is under the trap-door ?" persisted 
 Capitola, "what's under it ?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't know — an old cave that was once used as 
 a dry cellar, until an underground stream broke through 
 and made it too damp — so it is said. I never explored it." 
 
 " But, uncle, what about the — " 
 
 Here Mrs. Condiment stretched out her foot, and trod 
 upon the toes of Capitola so sharply as to make her stop 
 short, while she dexterously changed the conversation by 
 asking the major if he would not send Wool to Tip-Top in 
 the morning for another bag of coffee. 
 
 Soon after supper was over, Capitola, saying that she was 
 tired, bade her uncle good-night, and, attended by her little 
 black maid Pitapat, whom Mrs. Condiment had called up 
 for the purpose, retired to her distant chamber. There 
 
THE EOOM OF THE TEAP-DOOR. 
 
 95 
 
 were al read}' collected liertliree trunks, which the liberality 
 of her uncle had filled. 
 
 As soon as she had got in and locked the door, she de- 
 tached one of the strongest straps from her largest trunk, 
 and then turned up the rug and secured the end of the 
 strap to the ring in the trap-door. Then she withdrew the 
 holt, and holding onto one eud of the strap, gently lowered 
 the trap, and kneeling, gazed down into an awful black 
 void — without boundaries, without sight, without sounds, 
 except a deep, faint, subterranean roaring as of water. 
 
 Bring the light. Pitapat, and hold it over this place, 
 and take care you don't fall in,'' said Capitola. '^Come, as 
 Fve got a 'pit' in my name and you've got a ''pit' in 
 yours, we'll see if we two can't make something of this 
 third 'pit'!" 
 
 '"Deed, I'se 'fraid, Miss," said the poor little darkey, 
 
 "Afraid ! what of r 
 
 "Ghoses." 
 
 " Nonsense. I'll agree to lay every ghost you see V* 
 The little maid approached, candle in hand, but in such 
 g gingerly sort of way, that Capitola seized the light from 
 her hand, and stooping, held it down as far as she could 
 reach, and gazed once more into the abyss. But this only 
 made the horrible darkness " visible;" no object caught or 
 reflected a single ray of light — all was hlack, hollow, void 
 and silent, except the faint, deep, distant roaring as of 
 subterraneous water ! 
 
 Capitola pushed the light as far down as she could 
 possibly reach, and then yielding to a strange fascination, 
 dropt it into the abyss I It went down, down, down into 
 the darkness, until far below it glimmered out of sight I 
 Then with an awful shudder Capitola pulled up and fastened 
 the trap-door, laid down the rug and said her prayers, and 
 went to bed by the fire-light, — with little Pitapat sleeping 
 on a palleto The last thought of Cap, before falling to 
 sleep, was : 
 
06 A MYSTERY ANt> A STORM AT HURRICANE HALL. 
 
 " It is awful to go to bed over such a horrible mystery; 
 but I will be a hero \" 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A MYSTERY AlfD A STORM AT HUERIOANE HALL. 
 
 ** Bid her address her prayers to Heaven I 
 Learn if she there may be forgiven ; 
 It's mercy may absolve her yet I 
 But here upon this earth beneath, 
 There is no spot where she and I 
 Together for an hour could breathe 1" — Byeon. 
 
 Early the next morning Oapitola arose, made her 
 toilet, and went out to explore the outer walls of her 
 part of the old house, to discover, if possible, some external 
 entrance into the unknown cavity under her room. It was 
 a bright, cheerful, healthy, autumnal morning, well 
 adapted to dispel all clouds of mystery and superstition. 
 Heaps of crimson and golden-hued leaves, glimmering 
 with hoar frost, lay drifted against the old walls, and when 
 these were brushed away by the busy feet and hands of the 
 young girl, they revealed nothing but the old moldering 
 foundation ; not a vestige of a cellar-door or window was 
 visible. 
 
 Capitola abandoned the fruitless search, and turned to 
 go into the house. And saying to herself : 
 
 ril think no more of it ! I dare say, after all, 
 it is nothing but a very dark cellar without window and 
 with a well, and the story of the murders and of the skele- 
 tons, is all moonshine !" She ran into the dining-room, 
 and took her seat at the breakfast table. 
 
 Old Hurricane was just tlien storming away at his fac- 
 totum Wool for some misdemeanor, the nature of which 
 
L MYSTERY AND A STORM AT HURRICANE HALL. 97 
 
 Oapitola did not liear^ for upon her appearance, lie suffered 
 his wrath to subside in a few reverberating low thunders, 
 gave his ward a grumphy Good-morning/' and sat down 
 to his breakfast. 
 
 After breakfast Old Hurricane took his great coat and 
 cocked hat, and stormed forth upon the plantation to blow 
 up his lazy overseer, Mr. Will Ezy, and his idle negroes, 
 who had loitered or frolicked away all the days of their 
 master^s absence. 
 
 Mrs. Condiment went away to mix a plum pudding for 
 dinner and Cap was left alone. 
 
 After wandering through the lower rooms of the house, 
 the stately old-fashioned drawing-room, the family parlor, 
 the dining-room, etc.. Cap found her way through all the 
 narrow back passages and steep little stair-cases back to 
 her own chamber. 
 
 The chamber looked quite different by daylight — the 
 cheerful wood fire burning in the chimney right before 
 her, opposite the door by which she entered ; the crimson 
 curtained bedstead on her right hand ; the crimson draped 
 windows, with the rich old mahogany bureau and dressing- 
 glass standing between them, on her left; the polished, 
 dark oak floor ; the rich Turkey rug, concealing the trap- 
 door ; the comfortable rocking-chair ; the new workstand ; 
 placed there for her use that morning, and her own well 
 filled trunks standing in the corners, looked altogether too 
 cheerful to associate with dark thoughts. 
 
 Besides, Capitola had not the least particle of gloom, 
 superstition or marvelousness in her disposition. She loved 
 old houses and old legends well enough to enjoy them ; but 
 was not sufficiently credulous to believe, or cowardly to 
 fear, them. 
 
 She had, besides, a pleasant morning's occupation be- 
 fore her, in unpacking her three trunks and arranging her 
 wardrobe and her possessions, which were all upon the 
 most liberal scale, for Major Warfield at every city where 
 
98 A MYSTERY AND A STORM AT HURRICANE HALL. 
 
 they had stopped had given his poor Yittle protegee a virtual 
 carte dla^iche for purchases, having said to her : 
 
 Capitola, Fm an old bachelor ; I've not the least idea 
 what a young girl requires ; [all I know is, that you have 
 nothing hut your clothes, and must want sewing and knit- 
 ting needles, and brushes and scissors, and combs and boxes 
 and smelling-bottles and tooth-powder ; and such. So 
 come along with me to one of those Vanity Fairs they call 
 fancy stores, and get what you want ; Fll foot the bill." 
 
 And Oapitola, who firmly believed that she had the 
 most sacred of claims upon Major Warfield, whose resources 
 she also supposed to be unlimited, did not fail to indulge 
 her taste for rich and costly toys, and supplied herself with 
 a large ivory dressing-case, lined with velvet, and fur- 
 nished with ivory-handled combs and brushes, silver boxes 
 and crystal bottles ; a papier mache workbox, with gold 
 thimble, needle-case and perforator and gold-mounted 
 scissors and winders ; and an ebony writing-desk, with sil- 
 ver-mounted crystal standishes ; each of these — boxes and 
 desk — were filled with all things requisite in the several 
 departments. And now as Capitola unpacked them and 
 arranged them upon the top of the bureau, it was with no 
 small degree of appreciation. The rest of the forenoon 
 was spent in arranging the best articles of her wardrobe in 
 her bureau drawers. 
 
 Having locked the remainder in her trunks, and care- 
 fully smoothed her hair, and dressed herself in a brown 
 merino, she went down stairs and sought out Mrs. Condi- 
 ment, whom she found in the housekeeper's little room, 
 and to whom she said : 
 
 ^'Now, Mrs. Condiment, if uncle has any needlework 
 wanted to be done, any buttons to be sewed on, or anything 
 of the kind, just let me have it ; I'm just dying to use it !" 
 
 " My dear Miss Black " 
 
 Please to call me Capitola, or even Cap. I never was 
 
A MYSTERY AND A STORM AT HURRICANE HALL. 99 
 
 called Miss Black in my life, until I came here, and I don't 
 like it at all V 
 
 ^' Well then, my dear Miss Cap, I wish you would wait 
 till to-morrow, for I just came in here in a great hurry to 
 get a glass of brandy out of the cupboard to put in the 
 sauce for the plum-pudding, as dinner will be on the table 
 in ten minutes." 
 
 With a shrug of her little shoulders, Capitola left the 
 housekeeper's room, and hurried through the central front 
 hall and out at the front door, to look about and breathe the 
 fresh air for a while. 
 
 As she stepped upon the front piazza she saw Major . 
 Warfield walking up the steep lawn, followed by Wool, 
 leading a pretty, mottled, iron-gray pony, with a side-saddle 
 on his back. 
 
 Ah, I'm glad you're down. Cap ! Come ! look at this 
 pretty pony ! he is good for nothing as a working horse, 
 and is too light to carry my weight, and so I intend to give 
 him to you ! You must learn to ride," said the old man, 
 coming up the steps. 
 
 Give him to me ! I learn to ride ! Oh, uncle ! Oh, 
 uncle ! I slmll go perfectly crazy with joy \" exclaimed Cap., 
 dancing and clapping her bands with delight. 
 
 ''^Oh, well, a tumble or two in learning will bring you 
 back to your senses, I reckon !" 
 
 Oh, uncle ! oh, uncle ! when shall I begin \" 
 
 ^^You shall take your first tumble immediately after 
 dinner, when, being well-filled, you will not be so brittle 
 and apt to break in falling V 
 
 •'^ Oh, uncle ! I shall not fall ! I feel I sha'n't ! I feel 
 I've a natural gift for holding on V 
 
 " Come, come, get in ! get in ! I want my dinner !" 
 said Old Hurricane, driving his ward in before him to the 
 dining-room, where the dinner was smoking upon the 
 table. * 
 
100 A MYSTERY AND A STORM AT HURRICANE HALL. 
 
 After dinner Cap , with Wool for a riding-master, took 
 her first lesson in equestrianism. 
 
 She had the four great requisites for forming a good 
 rider — a well-adapted figure, a fondness for the exercise, 
 perfect fearlessness and presence of mind. She was not once 
 in danger of losing her seat, and during that single after- 
 noon's exercises, she make considerable progress in learning 
 to manage her steed. 
 
 Old Hurricane, whom the genial autumn afternoon had 
 tempted out to smoke his pipe in his arm-chair on the 
 porch, was a pleased spectator of her performances, and 
 expressed his opinion that in time she would become the 
 best rider in the neighborhood, and that she should have 
 the best riding-dress and cap that could be made at Tip- 
 Top. 
 
 Just now, in lack of an equestrian dress, poor Cap was 
 parading around and around tlie lawn with her head bare 
 and her hair flying, and her merino skirt exhibiting more 
 ankles than grace. 
 
 It was while Old Hurricane still sat smoking his pipe 
 and making his comments, and Capitola still ambled around 
 and around the lawn, that a horseman suddenly appeared 
 galloping as fast as the steep nature of the ground would 
 admit, up towards the house, and before they could form 
 an idea of who he was, the horse was at the block, and the 
 rider dismounted and standing before Major Warfield. 
 
 Why, Herbert, my boy ! back so soon ! We didn't 
 expect you for a week to come I This is sudden, indeed ! 
 So much the better ! so much the better ! Glad to see you, 
 lad V exclaimed Old Hurricane, getting up and heartily 
 shaking the hand of his nephew. * 
 
 Capitola came ambling up, and in the effort to spring 
 nimbly from her saddle, tumbled off, much to the delight 
 of Wool, who grinned from ear to ear, and of Old Hurri- 
 cane, who, with an '^1 said so,'' burst into a roar of 
 laughter. 
 
A MTSTEEY AND A STORM AT HURRICANE HALL. 101 
 
 Herbert Greyson sprang to assist her ; but before lie 
 reached the spot. Cap had picked herself up, straightened 
 her disordered dress, and now she ran to meet and shake 
 hands with him. 
 
 There was such a sparkle of joy and glow of affection in 
 the meeting between these two, that Old Hurricane, who 
 saw it, suddenly hushed his laugh, and grunted to himself: 
 Humph, humph, humph ! I like that ; that^s better 
 than I could have planned it myself ; let that go on, and 
 then, Gabe Le N'oir, we^ll see under what name and head 
 the old divided manor will be held \" 
 
 Before his mental soliloquy was concluded, Herbert and 
 Capitola came up to him. He welcomed Herbert again 
 with great cordiality, and then called to his man to put up 
 the horses, and bade the young people follow him into the 
 house, as the air was getting chilly. 
 
 "And how did you find your good friends, lad 
 inquired Old Hurricane, when they had reached the sitting 
 parlor. 
 
 " Oh, very well, sir ; and very grateful for your offered 
 kindness ; and, indeed, so anxious to express their grati- 
 tude, that — ^that I shortened my visit, and came away 
 immediately to tell you.'^ 
 
 " Eight, lad, right ! You come by the down coach 
 " Yes, sir ; and got off at Tip -Top, where I hired a 
 horse to bring me here. I must ask you to let one of your 
 men take him back to Mr. Merry, at the Antlers' Inn, 
 to-morrow.-'^ 
 
 "Surely, surely, lad ! Wool shall do it V' 
 " And so, Herbert, the poor v/oman was delighted with 
 the prospect of better times ?" said Old Hurricane, with a 
 little glow of benevolent self-satisfaction. 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir ! delighted beyond all measure 
 " Poor thing I poor thing ! See, young folks, how easy 
 it is for the wealthy, by sparing a little of their superfluous 
 
102 A MYSTERY AND A STORM AT HURRICANE HALL. 
 
 means, to make the poor and yirtuous happy. And the 
 boy, Herbert, the boy 
 
 *'0h, sir! delighted for himself, but still more 
 delighted for his mother ; for her joy was such as to aston- 
 ish and even alarm me ! Before, that, I had thought 
 
 Marah Rocke a proud woman, but " 
 
 What — say that again exclaimed Major Warfield. 
 
 ^^I say that I thought she was a proud woman, 
 but " 
 
 '^Thought WHO was a proud woman, sir T' roared Old 
 Hurricane. 
 
 Marah Eocke replied the young man, with wonder. 
 
 Major Warfield started up, seized the chair upon which 
 he had sat, and struck it upon the ground with such force 
 as to shatter it to pieces ; then turning, he strode up and 
 down the floor with such violence that the two young peo- 
 ple gazed after him in consternation and fearful expec- 
 tancy. Presently he turned suddenly, strode up to Her- 
 bert Greyson, and stood before him. 
 
 His face was purple, his veins swollen until they stood 
 out upon his forehead like cords, his eyes were protruded 
 and glaring, his mouth clenched until the grizzly grey 
 moustache and beard were drawn in, his whole huge frame 
 was quivering from head to foot I It was impossible to tell 
 what passion — whether rage, grief, or shame, the most 
 possessed him, for all three seemed tearing his giant frame 
 to pieces. 
 
 For an instant he stood speechless, and Herbert feared 
 he would fall into a fit ; but the old giant was too strong 
 for that ! For one short moment he stood thus, and in a 
 terrible voice he asked : 
 
 Young man ! did you — did you know — the shame 
 that you dashed into my face, with the name of that 
 woman ?" 
 
 Sir, I know nothing but that she is the best and 
 
A MYSTERY AND A STORM AT HURRICANE HALL. 103 
 
 dearest of her sex ?' exclaimed Herbert, beyond all measure 
 amazed at what he heard and saw. 
 
 Best and dearest V' thundered the old man — oh, 
 idiot ! is she still a siren, and are you a dupe ? But that 
 cannot be ! No, sir ! it is I whom you hoth would dupe ! 
 Ah, I see it all now ! This is why you artfully concealed 
 her name from me until you had won my promise ! It 
 shall not serve either you or her, sir ! I break my promise 
 — thus !'■' — bending and snapping his own cane, and fling- 
 ing the fragments behind his back — there, sir ! when you 
 can make those ends of dry cedar grow together again, and 
 bear green leaves, you may hope to reconcile Ira Warfield 
 and Marah Eocke ! I break my promise sir, as s7ie 
 broke—'' 
 
 The old man suddenly sunk back into the nearest chair, 
 dropped his shaggy head and face into his hands, and re- 
 mained trembling from head to foot, while the convulsive 
 heaving of his chest, and the rising and falling of his huge 
 shoulders, betrayed that his heart was nearly bursting with 
 such suppressed sobs as only can be forced from manhood 
 by the fiercest anguish. 
 
 The young people looked on in wonder, awe and pity ; 
 and then their eyes met — those of Herbert silently in- 
 quired : 
 
 What can all this mean — Those of Capitola as 
 mutely answered : 
 
 Heaven only knows." 
 In his deep pity for the old man's terrible anguish, Her- 
 bert could feel no shame nor resentment for the false accu- 
 sation made upon himself. Indeed, his noble and candid 
 nature easily explained all as the ravings of some heart-rend- 
 ing remembrance. Waiting, therefore, until the violent 
 convulsions of the old man's frame had somewhat subsided, 
 Herbert went to him, and with a low and respectful inton- 
 ation of voice, said : 
 
 ''Uncle, if you think that there was any collusion be- 
 
104: A MYSTERY AND A STORM AT HtJRRIOANE HALL. 
 
 tween myself and Mrs. Eocke, you wrong us both. You 
 will remember that when I met you in New York, I had 
 not seen or heard from her for years, nor had I then any 
 expectation of ever seeing you. The subject of the poor 
 widow came up between us accidentally, and if it is true 
 that I omitted to call her by name, it must have been becanse 
 we both then felt too tenderly by her to call her anything 
 else but * the poor widow, the poor mother, the good 
 woman,^ and so on — and all this she is still/^ 
 
 The old man without raising his head, held out one 
 hand to his nephew, saying in a voice still trembling Avith 
 emotion : 
 
 " Herbert, I wronged you ; forgive me."*^ 
 Herbert took and pressed that rugged and hairy old 
 hand to his lips, and said : 
 
 Uncle, I do not in the least know what is the cause of 
 
 your present emotion, but " 
 
 Emotion ! demmy, sir ! what do you mean by emotion? 
 Am 7 a man to give way to emotion ? Demmy, sir, mind 
 what you say V' roared the old lion, getting up and shak- 
 ing himself free of all weaknesses. 
 
 " I merely meant to say, sir, that if I could possibly be 
 of any service to you, I am entirely at your orders. 
 
 " Then go back to that woman and tell her never to 
 dare to utter, or even to tMnh my name again, if she val- 
 ues her life \" 
 
 " Sir, you do not mean it ! and as for Mrs. Eoeke, she 
 is a good woman I feel it my duty to uphold \" 
 
 Good ! ugh ! ugh ! ugh ! Til command myself ! I^'ll 
 not give way again. Good ! ah, lad, it is quite plain to me 
 now, that you are an innocent dupe. Tell me, now, for 
 instance, do you know anything of that woman's life, 
 before she came to reside at Staunton 
 
 Nothing ; but from what Fve seen of her since, I'm 
 sure she always was good.'' 
 
 Did she never mention her former life at all T' 
 
A MYSTEEY AND A STOEM AT HURKICANB HALL. 105 
 
 ^'ISTeyer ; but, mind ! I hold to my faith in her aod 
 would stake my salvation on her integrity/-' said Herbert, 
 warmly. 
 
 ''Then you'd lose it, lad, that's all; but I have an 
 explanation to make to you, Herbert. You must give me 
 a minute or two of your company alone, in the library, 
 before tea." 
 
 And so saying. Major Warfield arose and led the way 
 across the hall to the library, that was immediately back of 
 the drawing-room. 
 
 Throwing himself into a leathern chair beside the writ- 
 ing table, he motioned for his companion to take the one 
 on the opposite side. A low fire smoldering on the hearth 
 before them, so dimly lighted the room, that the young 
 man arose again to pull the bell rope ; but the other inter- 
 rupted with : 
 
 ''ISTo, you need not ring for lights, Herbert : my story 
 is one that should be told in the dark I listen, lad ; but 
 drop your eyes, the while V 
 
 '' I am all attention, sir P' 
 
 "Herbert ! the poet says, that : 
 
 ' At thii'ty man suspects himself a fool, 
 Knows it at forty and reforms his rule.' 
 
 But boy, at the ripe age of forty-five, I succeeded in achiev- 
 ing the most sublime folly of my life ! I should have 
 taken a degree in madness, and been raised to a professor's 
 chair in some College of Lunacy ! Herbert, at the age of 
 forty-five I fell in love with and married a girl of sixteen, 
 out of a log cabin ! merely forsooth, because she had a 
 pretty skin like the leaf of the white japonica, soft, gray 
 eyes like a timid fawn's and a voice like a cooing turtle 
 dove's ! because those delicate cheeks flushed, and those 
 soft eyes fell when I spoke to her, and the cooing voice 
 trembled when she replied I because the d.elicate face 
 
106 A MYSTEEY AND A STORM AT HURRICANE HALL. 
 
 brightened when I came^ and faded when I turned away I 
 because 
 
 * She wept with delight when I gave her a smile, 
 And trembled with fear at my frown,' etc. 
 
 Because she adored me as a sort of god, I loved her as an 
 angel, and married her ! married her secretly ! for fear of 
 the ridicule of my brother officers, put her in a pastoral 
 log-cabin in the woods below the block-house, and visited 
 her there by stealth, like Numa did his nymph in the 
 cave ! But I was watched, my hidden treasure was discov- 
 ered — and coveted by a younger and prettier fellow than 
 
 myself Perdition ! I cannot tell this story in detail ! 
 
 Oue night I came home very late and quite unexpectedly, 
 and found — this man in my wife^s cabin ! I broke the 
 man^s head and ribs and left him for dead. I tore the 
 woman out of my heart and cauterized its bleeding wounds ! 
 —•This man was Gabriel Le ISFoir ! Satan burn him forever ! 
 — This woman was Marah Kocke, God forgive her ! I could 
 have divorced the woman, but as I did not dream of ever 
 marrying again, I did not care to drag my shame before a 
 public tribunal. There ! you know all ! let the subject sink 
 forever said Old Hurricane, wiping great drops of sweat 
 from his laboring brows. 
 
 Uncle ! I have heard your story and believe you, of 
 course ! But I am bound to tell you, that without . even 
 having heard your poor wife^s defence, I believe, and ujjJiold 
 her to le innocent! I think you have been as grossly 
 deceived as she has been fearfully wronged ! and that time 
 and providence will prove this V exclaimed Herbert, fer- 
 vently. 
 
 A horrible laugh of scorn was his only answer, as Old 
 Hurricane arose, shook himself and led the way back to 
 the parlor. 
 
MAEAh's DBEAilS. 
 
 107 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 maeah's dreams. 
 
 " And now her narrow kitchen walls 
 Stretched away into stately halls ; 
 The weary wheel to a spinnet turned, 
 The tallow candle an astral burned ; 
 A manly form at her side she saw, 
 And joy was duty and love was law. — "WHirnER. 
 
 0:s" the same Saturday morning that Herbert Greyson 
 hurried away from his friend's cottage^ to travel post to 
 Hurricane Hall, for the sole purpose of accelerating the 
 coming of her good fortune, Marah Eocke walked about 
 the house "with a step so liglit, with eyes so bright, and 
 ch.eeks so blooming, that one might have thought that 
 years had rolled backward in their course and made her a 
 young girl again ! 
 
 Traverse gazed upon her in delight. Reversing the 
 words of the text, he said : 
 
 " We must call you no longer Marali, (which, is bitter.) 
 but we must call you Naomi, (which is beautiful.) mother I'^ 
 Young flatterer I'^ she answered, smiling and slightly 
 flushing. " But tell me truly. Traverse, am I very much 
 faded ? have care, and toil, and grief made me look old ?"' 
 
 You ! old I*' exclaimed the boy, running his eyes over 
 her beaming face and graceful form with a look of non- 
 comprehension that might have satisfied her, but did not, 
 for she immediately repeated : 
 
 ^' Yes, do I look old ? Indeed, I do not ask from van- 
 ity, child ! Ah, it little becomes me to be vain ; but I do 
 wish to look well in some one's eyes \" 
 
 " I wish there was a looking-glass in the house, mother, 
 
108 
 
 makah's dreams. 
 
 that it might tell you, you should be called ]S"aomi, instead 
 of Marah V 
 
 Ah ! that is just what 7ie used to say to me in the old 
 happy time, — the time in Paradise, before the serpent 
 entered V 
 
 '^What ^he,' mother r 
 
 Your father, boy, of course V 
 That was the first time she had ever mentioned his 
 father to her son, and now she spoke of him with such a 
 flush of joy and hope, that even while her words referred 
 darkly to the past, her eyes looked brightly to the future ! 
 All this, taken with the events of the preceding evening, 
 greatly bewildered the mind of Traverse, and agitated him 
 with the v/ildest conjectures. 
 
 Mother, will you tell me about my father, and also 
 what it is beyond this promised kindness of Major Warfield 
 that has made you so happy I" he asked. 
 
 Not now, my boy ! dear boy, not now ! I must not, I 
 cannot, I dare not yet ! Wait a few days and you shall 
 know all ! Oh, it is hard to keep a secret from my boy ! 
 but then it is not only my secret, but another's ! You do 
 not think hard of me for withholding it now, do you Trav- 
 erse she asked, affectionately. 
 
 No, dear mother, of course I don't. I know you must 
 be right, and I am glad to see you happy." 
 
 Happy ! Oh, boy, you don't know how happy I am ! 
 I did not think any human being could ever feel so joyful 
 in this erring world, much less I ! One cause of this excess 
 of joyful feeling must be from the contrast ! else it were 
 dreadful to be so happy I" 
 
 Mother, I don't know what you mean,'^ said Traverse, 
 uneasily, for he was too young to understand these para- 
 doxes of feeling and thought, and there were moments when 
 he feared for his mother's reason. 
 
 Oh, Traverse, think of it ! eighteen long, long years 
 of estrangement, sorrow, and dreadful suspense I eighteen 
 
maeah's dreams. 
 
 109 
 
 long, long, weary years of patience against anger, and loving 
 against hatred, and hoping against despair ! your yonng 
 mind cannot grasp it — your very life is not so long. I was 
 seventeen then ; I am thirty-five now. And after wasting 
 all my young years of womanhood in loving, hoping, long- 
 ing — lo ! the light of life has dawned at last."'^ 
 
 God save you, mother!'-' said the boy, fervently, for 
 her wild, unnatural joy continued to augment his anxiety. 
 
 Ah, Traverse, I dare not tell you the secret now, and 
 yet I am always letting it out ; because my heart overflows 
 from its fulness. Ah, boy, many, many weary nights have 
 I lain awake from grief ; but last night I lay awake from 
 joy. Think of it.'' 
 
 The boy's only reply to this was a deep sigh. He was 
 becoming seriously alarmed. 
 
 never saw her so excited. I wish she would get 
 calm," was his secret thought. 
 
 Then, with the design of changing the current of her 
 ideas, he took off his coat, and said : 
 
 ^'Mother, my pocket is half torn out, and though 
 there's no danger of my losing a great deal out of it, still 
 ril get you, please, to sew it in while I mend the fence." 
 
 Sew the pocket ! mend the fence ! Well," smiled 
 Mrs. Eocke, ''we'll do so, if it will amuse you. The men- 
 ded fence will be a convenience to the next tenant, and the 
 patched coat will do for some poor boy. Ah, Traverse, we 
 must be very good to the poor, in more ways than in giving 
 them what we do not ourselves need, for we shall know 
 what it is to have been poor," she concluded, in more 
 serious tones than she had yet used. 
 
 Traverse was glad of this, and went out to his work 
 feeling somewhat better satisfied. 
 
 This delirium of happiness lasted intermittently a whole 
 week, during the last three days of which Mrs. Eocke was 
 constantly going to the door and looking up the road, as if 
 expecting some one. The mail came from Tip-Top to 
 
110 
 
 maeah's dreams. 
 
 Staunton only once a week, on Saturday mornings. 
 Therefore, when Saturday came again, she sent her son to 
 the j)ost office, saying : 
 
 " If they do not come to-day, they will surely write. ■'^ 
 
 Traverse hastened with all his speed, and got there so 
 soon that he had to wait for the mail to be opened. 
 
 Meanwhile, at home, the widow walked the floor in rest- 
 less, joyous anticipation, or went to the door and strained 
 her eyes up the road to watch for Traverse, and perhaps for 
 some one else^s coming. At last she discerned her son, who 
 came down the road, walking rapidly, smiling triumphant- 
 ly, and holding a letter up to view. 
 
 She ran out of the gate to meet him, seized and kissed 
 the letter, and then, with her face burning, her heart pal- 
 pitating, and her fingers trembling, she hastened into the 
 house, threw herself into the little low chair by the fire, 
 and opened the letter. It was from Herbert, and read 
 thus : 
 
 HuRRiCAKE Hall, !Nov. 30th, 1843. 
 
 My Dearest ai5"d Best Mrs. Eocke : — May God 
 strengthen you to read the few bitter lines I have to write. 
 Most unhappily. Major Warfield did not know exactly who 
 you were, when he promised so much. Upon learning your 
 name he withdrew all his promises. At night, in his library,, 
 he told me all your early history. Having heard all, the 
 very worst, I believe you as pure as an angel. So I told him. 
 So I would uphold with my life, and seal with my death. 
 Trust yet in God, and believe in the earnest respect and 
 affection of your grateful and attached son. 
 
 Herbert Gretsok. 
 
 P. S. — For henceforth I shall call you mother. 
 
 Quietly she finished reading, pressed the letter again to 
 her lips, reached it to the fire, saw it, like her hopes, 
 shrivel up to ashes, and then she arose, and with her 
 
makah's dkeams. 
 
 Ill 
 
 trembling fingers clinging together, walked up and down 
 the floor. 
 
 There were no tears in her eyes, but oh, such a look of 
 unutterable woe on her pale, blank, despairing face. 
 
 Traverse watched her, and saw that something had gone 
 frightfully wrong ; that some awful revolution of fate or 
 revulsion of feeling had passed over her in this dread hour. 
 
 Cautiously he approached her, gently he laid his hand 
 upon her shoulder, tenderly he whispered : 
 Mother V 
 
 She turued and looked strangely at him, then exclaim- 
 ing : 
 
 Oh, Traverse, how happy I was this day week V' She 
 burst into a flood of tears. 
 
 Traverse threw his arm around his mother^s waist, and 
 haK-coaxed and half-bore her to her low chair, and sat her 
 in it, and knelt by her side ; and embracing her fondh^, 
 whispered : 
 
 Mother, don^t weep so bitterly. You have me, am / 
 nothing ? Mother, / love you more than son ever loved 
 his mother, or suitor his sweetheart, or husband his wife. 
 Oh, is my love nothing, mother 
 
 Only sobs answered him. 
 Mother, he pleaded, ''you are all the world to me — 
 let me be all the world to you. I can be it, mother, — I 
 can be it ; try me. I will make every effort for my mother, 
 and the Lord will bless us." 
 
 Still no answer but convulsive sobs. 
 
 '' Oh, mother, mother, I will try to do for you more 
 than ever son did for mother, or man for woman before, 
 dear mother, if you will not break my heart by weeping 
 so/' 
 
 The sobbing abated a little, partly from exhaustion and 
 partly from the soothing influences of the boy's loving 
 words. 
 
 Listen, dear mother, what I will do. In the olden 
 
112 
 
 marah's dreams. 
 
 times of chivalry, young knights bound themselves by 
 sacred vows to the service of some lady, and labored long 
 and perilously in her honor ; for her, blood was spilt — for 
 her, fields were won ; but, mother, never yet toiled knight 
 in the battle-field for his lady-love as I will, in the battle 
 of life, for my dearest lady — my own mother/^ 
 
 She reached out her hand, and silently pressed his. 
 
 " Come, come,^' said Traverse—^ ^ lift up your head and 
 smile ! We are young yet, both you and I ! for after all 
 you are not much older than your son ! and we two will 
 journey up and down the hills of life together — all in all 
 to each other ; and when at last we are old, as we shall be 
 when you are seventy-seven and I am sixty — we will leave 
 all our fortune that we shall have made to found a home 
 for widows and orphans, — as we were, and we will pass out 
 and go to Heaven together.^' 
 
 Now indeed this poor, modern Hagar looked — and 
 smiled at the oddity of her IshmaePs far-reaching tliought. 
 
 In that poor household grief might not be indulged. 
 Marah Eocke took down her work-basket and sat- down to 
 finish a lot of shirts, and Traverse went out with his horse 
 and saw, to look for a job at cutting wood for twenty-five 
 cents a cord. Small beginnings of the fortune that was to 
 found and endow asylums I but many a fortune has been 
 comlnenced upon less ! 
 
 Marah Eocke had managed to dismiss her boy with a 
 smile — but that was the last effort of nature ; as soon as he 
 was gone and she found herself alone, tear after tear welled 
 up in her eyes and rolled down her pale cheeks ; sigh after 
 sigh heaved her bosom I 
 
 Ah I the transitory joy of the past week had been but 
 the lightning's arrowy course scathing where it illumined ! 
 
 She felt as if this last blow, that had struck her down 
 from the height of hope to the depth of despair, had broken 
 her heart — as if the power of reaction was gone, and she 
 mourned as one who would not be comforted. 
 
mabah's dbeams. 
 
 113 
 
 While she sat thus the door opened, and before she was 
 aware of his presence, Herbert Greyson entered the room 
 and came softly to her side. Ere she could speak to him, 
 he dropped upon one knee at her feet, bowed his young 
 head lowly over the hand that he took and pressed to his 
 lips. Then he arose and stood before her. This was not 
 unnatural or exaggerated — it was his way of expressing the 
 reverential sympathy and compassion he felt for her strange, 
 life-long martyrdom. 
 
 "Herbert, you here? why we only got your letter this 
 morning/^ she said, in tones of gentle inquiry, as she arose 
 and placed a chair for him. 
 
 "Yes, I could not bear to stay away from you, at such 
 a time ; I came up in the same mail coach that brought my 
 letter ; but I kept myself out of Traverse's sight, for I could 
 not bear to intrude upon you in the first hour of your dis- 
 appointment,'^ said Herbert, in a broken voice. 
 
 " Oh ! that need not have kept you away, dear boy ; I 
 did not cry much ; I am used to trouble, you know ; I shall 
 get over this also — after a little while — and things will go 
 in the old way," said Marah Eocke, struggling to repress the 
 rising emotion that however overcame her, for dropping her 
 head upon her "sailor boy's'' shoulder, she burst into a 
 flood of tears and wept plenteously. 
 
 " Dear mother, be comforted,'^ he said ; " dear mother, 
 be comforted.''' 
 
114: 
 
 makah's memoeibs. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 MARAH^S MEMORIES. 
 
 ** In the shade of the apple tree again 
 She saw a rider draw his rein. 
 And gazing down with a timid grace, 
 She felt his pleased eyes read her face." 
 
 — Whittier. 
 
 '^Dear Marah, I cannot understand your strong 
 attachment to that bronzed and grizzled old man, who has 
 besides treated you so barbarously," said Herbert. 
 
 Is he bronzed and gray asked Marah, looking up 
 with gentle pity in her eyes and tone. 
 
 Why of course he is. He is sixty-three." 
 *^ He was forty-five when I first knew him, and he was 
 very handsome then — at least I thought him the very per- 
 fection of manly strength, and beauty, and goodness. True, 
 it was the mature, warm beauty of the Indian summer — for 
 he was more than middle-aged ; but it was very genial to 
 the chilly, loveless morning of my early life," said Marah, 
 dropping her head upon her hand, and sliding into reminis- 
 cences of the past. 
 
 Dear Marah, I wish you would tell me all about your 
 marriage and misfortunes," said Herbert, in a tone of the 
 deepest sympathy and respect. 
 
 Yes, he was very handsome," continued Mrs. Eocke, 
 speaking more to herself than to her companion; '*his 
 form was tall, full and stately ; his complexion warm, rich 
 and glowing ; his fine face was lighted up by a pair of 
 strong, dark gray eyes, full of fire and tenderness, and was 
 surrounded by waving masses of jeb black hair and whiskers 
 — they are gray now, you say, Herbert 
 
 ''Gray and grizzled, and bristling up around his hard 
 
MAE AH' S MEMORIES. 
 
 115 
 
 face, like thorn-bushes aronnd a rock in winter I" said 
 Herbert, bluntly, for it enraged his honest but inexperienced 
 boyish heart to hear this wronged woman speak so enthus- 
 iastically. 
 
 Ah ! it is winter with him now, but tJien it was glori- 
 ous Indian summer. He was a handsome, strong and ardent 
 man. /was a young, slight, pale girl, with no beauty but 
 the cold and colorless beauty of a statue ; with no learning, 
 but such as I had picked up from a country school ; with 
 no love to bless my lonely life — for I was a friendless orplian, 
 without either parents or relatives, and living by sufferance 
 in a cold and loveless home.'' 
 
 Poor girl V murmured Herbert, in almost inaudible 
 
 tones. 
 
 " Our log-cabin stood beside the military road leading 
 through the wilderness to the Fort where he was stationed. 
 And oh, when he came riding by each day, upon his noble, 
 coal black steed, and in his martial uniform, looking so 
 vigorous, handsome and kingly, he seemed to me almost a 
 god to worship. Sometimes he drew rein in front of the 
 old oak tree that stood in front of our cabin, to breathe his 
 horse, or to ask for a draught of water. I used to bring it 
 • to him. Oh ! then, when he looked at me, his eyes seemed 
 to send new warmth to my chilled heart ; when he spoke, 
 too, his tones seemed to strengthen me ; while he staid, his 
 presence seemed to protect me.'' 
 
 * Ay, such protection as vultures give to doves — cov- 
 ering and devouring them,' " muttered Herbert to himself. 
 Mrs. Eocke, too absorbed in her reminiscences to heed his 
 interruptions, continued: 
 
 One day he asked me to be his wife. I do not know 
 what I answered, or if I answered anything. I only 
 know that when I understood what he meant my heart 
 trembled with instinctive terror at its own excessive joy ! 
 We were privately married by the chaplain at the Fort. 
 There were no accommodations for the wives of officers there. 
 
116 
 
 marah's memories. 
 
 And besides, my husband did not wish to announce our 
 marriage, until he was ready to take me to his princely 
 mansion in Virginia." 
 
 Humph P grunted Herbert, inwardly, for comment. 
 
 ''But he built for me a pretty cabin in the w-oods 
 below the fort, furnished it simply, and hired a half-breed 
 Indian woman to wait on me. Gh, I was too happy ! To 
 my wintry spring of life summer had come, warm, rich and 
 beautiful ! There is a clause in the marriage service which 
 enjoins the husband to cherish his wife. I do not believe 
 many people ever stop to think how much is in that word. 
 He did ; he cherished my little thin, chill, feeble life, until 
 I became strong, warm and healthful. Oh ! even as the 
 blessed sun warms and animates, and glorifies the earth, 
 causing it to brighten with life, and blossom with flowers, 
 and bloom with fruit, so did my husband enrich, and cher- 
 ish, and bless my life. Such happiness could not and it 
 did not last/* 
 
 *' Of course not,'^ muttered Herbert to himself. 
 
 '* At first the fault was in myself. Yes, Herbert, it 
 was ! you need not look incredulous, or hope to cast all the 
 blame on him ! Listen : happy, grateful, adoring as I was, 
 I was also shy, timid, and bashful — never proving the deep 
 love I bore my husband except by the most perfect self- 
 abandonment to his will. All this deep though quiet 
 devotion he understood as mere passive obedience void of 
 love. As this continued he grew uneasy, and often asked 
 me if I cared for him at all, or if it were possible for a 
 young girl like me to love an old man like himself.'^ 
 
 *' A very natural question,'^ thought Herbert. 
 
 " Well, I used to whisper in answer, ' Yes,^ and still 
 'Yes/ But this never satisfied Major Warfield. One day, 
 when he asked me if I cared for him the least in the world, 
 I suddenly answered, that if he were to die I should throw 
 myself across his grave, and lie there until death should 
 release me I whereupon he broke into a loud laugh, saying, 
 
MAE ah' S MEMORIES. 
 
 117 
 
 ' Methinks the lady doth protest too mucli/ I was already 
 blushing deeply at the unwonted vehemence of my own 
 words, although I had spoken only as I felt — the very, very 
 truth ; but his laugh and his jest so increased my confusion 
 — that — in fine that was the first and last time I ever did 
 protest ! Like Lear's Cordelia, I was tongue-tied — I had 
 no words to assure him. Sometimes I wept to think how 
 poor I was in resources to make him happy. Then came 
 another annoyance — my name and fame were freely dis- 
 cussed at the fort.'' 
 
 A natural consequence/' sighed Herbert. 
 
 The younger officers discovered my woodland home, 
 and often stole out to reconnoitre my cabin. Among them 
 was Captain Le ISToir, who, after he had discovered my 
 retreat, picked acquaintance with Lura, my attendant. 
 Making the woodland sports his pretext, he haunted the 
 vicinity of my cabin, often stopping at the door to beg a 
 cup of water, which of course was never denied, or else to 
 offer a bunch of partridges, or a brace of rabbits, or some 
 other game, the sports of his gun, which equally of course 
 was never accepted. One beautiful morning in June, finding 
 my cabin door open and myself alone, he ventured unbidden 
 across my threshold, and by his free conversation, and bold 
 admiration, offended and alarmed me. Some days after- 
 wards, in the mess-room at the fort, being elevated by wine, 
 he boasted among his mess-mates of the intimate terms of 
 friendly acquaintance upon which he falsely asserted that 
 he had the pleasure of standing with ' Warfield's pretty 
 little favorite,' as he insolently called me. When my hus- 
 band heard of this, I learned for the first time of the ter- 
 rific violence of his temper. It was awful I It frightened 
 me almost to death. There was a duel, of course. Le 
 Noir was very dangerously wounded — scarred across the 
 face for life, and was confined many weeks to his bed. 
 Major Warfield was also slightly hurt, and laid up at the 
 
118 
 
 maeah's memories. 
 
 Fort for a few days, during which I was not permitted to 
 see him," 
 
 Is it possible that even then he did not see your dan- 
 ger, and acknowledge your marriage, and call you to his 
 bed-side ?" inquired Herbert impatiently. 
 
 No ! no ! if he had, all after suffering had been spared ! 
 'No ! at the end of four days he came back to me ; but we 
 met only for bitter reproaches on his part, and sorrowful 
 tears on mine. He charged me with coldness, upon account 
 of the disparity in our years, and of preference for Captain 
 Le Noir, because he was ' a pretty fellow.-* I knew this 
 was not true of me. I knew that I loved my husband's 
 very footprints better than I did the whole human race 
 besides ; but I could not tell him so then. Oh, in those 
 days, though my heart was so full, I had so little power 
 of utterance. There he stood before me ! he that had 
 been so ruddy and buoyant, now so pale from loss of 
 blood, and so miserable, that I could have fallen and 
 groveled at his feet in sorrow and remorse at not being able 
 to make him happy V 
 
 There are some persons whom we can never make 
 happy ! It is not in them to be so commented Herbert. 
 
 He made me promise never to see or to speak to Le 
 Noir again — a promise eagerly given but nearly impossible 
 to keep. My husband spent as much time with me as he 
 possibly could spare from his military duties, and looked 
 forward with impatience to the autumn, when it was 
 thought that he would be at liberty to take me home. He 
 often used to tell me that we should spend our Christmas 
 at his house. Hurricane Hall, and that I should play Lady 
 Bountiful, and distribute Christmas gifts to the negroes, 
 and that they would love me. And oh I with what joy I 
 anticipated that time of honor and safety and careless ease, 
 as an acknowledged wife, in the home of my husband ! 
 There, too, I fondly believed our child would be born. 
 
marah's memories. 
 
 119 
 
 All bis old tenderness returned for me, and I was as happy 
 if not as wildly joyful, as at first."" 
 
 "'Twas but a lull in tbe storm/^ said Herbert. 
 
 Aye ! ^twas but a lull in the storm, or rather hefore the 
 storm ! I do think that from the time of that duel, Le 
 Noir had resolved upon our ruin. As soon as he was able 
 to go out, he haunted the woods around my cabin, and 
 continually lay in wait for me. I could not go out even in 
 the company of my maid Lura to pick blackberrries and 
 wild plums, or gather forest roses, or to get fresh water at 
 the spring, without being intercepted by Le Noir and his 
 offensive admiration. He seemed to be ubiquitous ! He 
 met me everywhere — except in the presence of Major War- 
 field. I did not tell my husband, because I feared that if I 
 did he would have killed Le Noir, and died for the deed.^-* 
 
 Humph I it would have been 'good riddance of bad 
 rubbish^ in loth cases !'"' muttered Herbert, under his teeth. 
 
 But instead of telling him, I confined myself strictly 
 to my cabin. One fatal day my husband, on leaving me in 
 the morning, said that I need not wait up for him at night, 
 for that it would be very late when he came, even if he came 
 at all. He kissed me very fondly when he went away. 
 Alas ! alas ! it was the last — last time ! At night I went to 
 bed disappointed, yet still so expectant that I could not 
 sleep. I know not how long I had waited thus, or how late 
 it was when I heard a tap at the outer door, and heard the 
 bolt undraw, and a footstep enter, and a low voice asking : 
 
 ' Is she asleep f and Lura^s reply in the afiSrmative. 
 Never doubting it was my husband, I lay there in pleased 
 expectation of his entrance. He came in, and began to take 
 off his coat in the dark. I spoke, telling him that there 
 were matches on the bureau. He did not reply, at which I 
 was surprised ; but before I could even repeat my words, 
 the outer door was burst violently open, hurried footsteps 
 crossed the entry, a light flashed into my room, my husband 
 stood in the door in full military uniform, with ^ light iu 
 
120 
 
 maeah's memories. 
 
 his hand and the aspect of an avenging demon on his brow 
 and 
 
 Horror of Horrors ! the half -undressed man in my 
 chamber was Captain Le Noir ! I. saw, and swooned away \" 
 
 But you were saved ! you were saved \" gasped Her- 
 bert, white with emotion. 
 
 Oh, I was saved, but not from sorrow — not from 
 shame ! I awoke from that deadly swoon to find myself 
 alone, deserted, cast away ! Oh ! torn out from the 
 warmth and light and safety of my home in my husband^s 
 heart, and hurled forth shivering, faint and helpless upon 
 the bleak world ! and all this in twenty-four hours ! Ah ! 
 I did not lack the power of expression then ! happiness had 
 never given it to me — anguish conferred it upon me ! that 
 one fell stroke of fate cleft the rock of silence in my soul, 
 and the fountain of utterance gushed freely forth. I wrote 
 to him — but my letters might as well have been dropped 
 into a well. I went to him, but was spurned away. I 
 prayed him with tears to have pity on our unborn babe ; 
 but he laughed aloud in scorn, and called it by an oppro- 
 brious name ! Letters, prayers, tears, were all in vain. 
 He never had acknowledged our marriage, he now declared 
 that he never would do so ; he discarded me, disowned my 
 child, and forbade us ever to take his name V 
 
 Oh, Marah ! and you but seventeen years of age ! 
 without a father or a brother or a friend in the world to 
 take your part ! without even means to employ an advo- 
 cate V exclaimed Herbert, covering his face with his hands 
 and sinking back. 
 
 Nor would I have used any of these agencies, had I 
 possessQd them ! If my wifehood and motherhood, my 
 affection and my helplessness, were not advocates strong 
 enough to win my cause, I could not have borne to employ 
 others." 
 
 ''Oh, Marah, with none to pity or to help I it was 
 monstrous to have abandoned you so 1'' 
 
maeah's memories. 
 
 121 
 
 No ! hush ; consider the overwhelming evidence 
 against me ! I considered it even in the tempest and 
 whirlwind of my angnish, and never once blamed and never 
 once was angry with my husband. For I knew — not he, 
 but the terrible circumstantial evidence had ruined me \" 
 
 Ay, but did you not explain it to him 
 
 How could 1, alas ! when I did not understand it 
 myself ? How Le Noir knew that Major Warfield was not 
 expected home that fatal night — how he got into my house, 
 whether by conspiring with my little maid, or by deceiving 
 her — or lastly, how Major Warfield came to burst in upon 
 him so suddenly, I did not know, and do not to this day V 
 
 But you told Major Warfield all that you have told 
 me r 
 
 Oh, yes ! again and again, calling Heaven to witness 
 my truth ! In vain ! ' he had seen with his oion eyeSy he 
 said. Against all I could say or do, there was built up a 
 wall of scornful incredulity, on which I might have dashed 
 my brains out to no purpose 
 
 Oh, Marah ! Marah ! with none to pity or to save V' 
 again exclaimed Herbert. 
 
 ''Yes,^' said the meek creature, bowing her head; 
 God pitied and helped me ! First he sent me a son that 
 grew strong and handsome in body, good and wise in soul. 
 Then he kept alive in my heart faith and hope and charity. 
 He enabled me, through long years of unremitting and ill- 
 requited toil, to live on, loving against anger, waiting 
 against time, and hoping against despair 
 
 " Why did you leave your western home and come to 
 Staunton, Marah asked Herbert. 
 
 To be where I could sometimes hear of my husband, 
 without intruding on him. I took your widowed mother 
 in because she was his sister, though I never told her who I 
 was, lest she should wrong and scorn me, as he had done. 
 When she died I cherished you^ Herbert, first because you 
 
122 
 
 MARAH^S MEMORIES. 
 
 were Ms nephew, but now, dear boy, for your own sake, 
 also/^ 
 
 And I, while I live, will be a son to you, Madam ! I 
 will be your constant friend at Hurricane Hall. He talks 
 of making me his heir. Should he persist in such blind 
 injustice, the day I come into the property, I shall turn it 
 all over to his widow and son. But I do not believe that 
 he will persist ; I, for my part, still hope for the best." 
 
 I also hope for the best, for whatever God wills is sure 
 to happen, and his will is surely the best ! Yes, Herbert, 
 
 I also hope leyond the graved said Marah Kocke, with 
 
 a wan smile. 
 
 The little clock that stood between the tall plated can- 
 clesticks on 'the mantel-piece struck twelve, and Marah 
 rose from her seat, saying : 
 
 Traverse, poor fellow, will be home to his dinner. 
 Not a word to him, Herbert, please ! I do not wish the 
 poor lad to know how much he has lost, and above all, I do 
 not wish him to be prejudiced against his father." 
 
 " You are right, Marah," said Herbert, ''for if he were 
 
 told, the natural indignation that your wrongs would arouse 
 
 in his heart, would totally unfit him to meet his father, in 
 
 a proper spirit, in that event for which I still hope — a 
 
 future and a perfect family union !" 
 
 * * * * * * * 
 
 Herbert Greyson remained a week with his friends, 
 during which time he paid the quarter's rent, and relieved 
 his adopted mother of that cause of anxiety. Then he 
 took leave and departed for Hurricane Hall, on his way to 
 Washington City, whence he was immediately going to pass 
 his examination and await his appointment. 
 
THE WASTING HEAKT. 
 
 123 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE WASTING HEART. 
 
 " Then she took up the burden of life again, 
 Saying only, * It might have been.' 
 Alas for them both, and alas for us all, 
 Who vainly the dreams of youth recall, 
 For of all sad words of lips, or pen. 
 The saddest are these — ' It might have been.' " 
 
 — Whittier. 
 
 By the tacit consent of all parties, the meteor hope that 
 had crossed and vanished from Marah Rocke's path of life 
 was never mentioned again. Mother and son went about 
 their separate tasks. Traverse worked at jobs all day, 
 studied at night, and went twice a week to recite his lessons 
 to his patron. Doctor Day, at Willow Hill. Marah sewed 
 as usual all day, and prepared her boy^s meals at the proper 
 times. But day by day her cheeks grew paler, her form 
 thinner, her step fainter. Her son saw this decline with 
 great alarm. Sometimes he found her in a deep, troubled 
 reverie, from which she would awaken with heavy sighs. 
 Sometimes he surprised her in tears. At such times he did 
 not trouble her with questions that he instinctively felt she 
 could not or would not answer ; but he came gently to her 
 side, put his arms about her neck, stooped and laid her 
 face against his breast, and whispered assurances of his 
 ''true love," and his boyish hopes of ''getting on," of 
 "making a fortune,^' and bringing "brighter days" for 
 her ! 
 
 And she would return his caresses, and with a faint smile 
 reply that he " must not mind " her, that she was only " a 
 little low-spirited," that she would " get over it soon." 
 
 But as day followed day, she grew visibly thinner and 
 
124: 
 
 THE WASTING HEART. 
 
 weaker, dark shadows settled under her hollow eyes and in 
 her sunken cheeks. One evening, while standing at the 
 table washing up their little tea service, she suddenly 
 dropped into her chair and fainted. Nothing could exceed 
 the alarm and distress of poor Traverse. He hastened to 
 fix her in an easy position, bathed her face and hands in 
 vinegar and water — the only restoratives in their meagre 
 stock — and called upon her by every loving epithet to live 
 and speak to him. The fit yielded to his efforts, and pres- 
 ently, with a few fluttering inspirations, her breath returned 
 and her eyes opened. Her very first words were attempts 
 to re-assure her dismayed boy. But Traverse could no more 
 be flattered. He entreated his mother to go at once to bed. 
 And though the next morning, when she arose, she looked 
 not worse than usual, Traverse left home with a heart full 
 of trouble. But instead of turning down the street to go to 
 his work in the town, he turned up the street towards the 
 wooded hills beyond, now glowing in their gorgeous autumn 
 foliage, and burning in the brilliant morning sun. 
 
 A half hoards walk brought him to a high and thickly- 
 wooded hill, up which a private road led through a thicket 
 of trees to a handsome gray stone country seat, situated in 
 the midst of beautifully ornamented grounds, and known 
 as Willow Heights, the residence of Doctor William Day, a 
 retired physician of great repute, and a man of earnest 
 piety. He was a widower with one fair daughter, Clara, a 
 girl of fourteen, then absent at boarding-school. Traverse 
 had never seen this girl, but his one great admiration was 
 the beautiful Willow Heights, and its worthy proprietor. 
 He opened the highly ornate iron gate, and entered upon 
 an avenue of willows that led up to the house, a two-storied 
 edifice of gray stone, with full-length front piazzas above 
 and below. 
 
 Arrived at the door, he rang the bell, which was 
 answered promptly by a good-humored looking negro boy, 
 who at once showed Traverse to the library up stairs, where 
 
THE WASTHTG HEART. 
 
 125 
 
 tlie good doctor sat at his books. Doctor Day was at this 
 time about fifty years of age, tall and stoutly built, with a 
 fine head and face, shaded by soft, bright flaxen hair and 
 beard ; thoughtful and kindly dark blue eyes, and an ear- 
 nest, jiDenetrating smile, that reached like sunshine the 
 heart of any one upon whom it shone. He wore a cheer- 
 ful looking flowered chintz dressing-gown corded around his 
 waist ; his feet were thrust into embroidered slippers ; and 
 he sat in his elbow-chair at his reading table, poring over 
 a huge folio volume. The whole aspect of the man, and 
 of his surroundings, was kindly cheerfulness. The room 
 opened upon the upper front piazza, and the windows were 
 all up to admit the bright morning sun and genial air, at 
 the same time that there was a glowing fire in the grate to 
 temper its chilliness. Traversers soft step across the car- 
 peted floor was not heard by the doctor, who was only made 
 aware of his presence by his stepping between the sunshine 
 and his table. Then the doctor arose, and with his intense 
 smile extended his hands, and greeted the boy with : 
 
 Well, Traverse, lad, you are always welcome ! I did 
 not expect you until night, as usual, but as you are here, 
 so much the better I Got your exercise all ready, eh ? — 
 Heaven bless you, lad I what is the matter V inquired the 
 good man suddenly, on first observing the boy's deeply 
 troubled looks. 
 
 My mother, sir I my mother \" was all that Traverse 
 could at first utter. 
 
 Your mother ? My dear lad, what about her — is she 
 ill T' inquired the doctor, with interest. 
 
 " Oh, sir, I am afraid she is going to die \" exclaimed 
 the boy in a choking voice, struggling hard to keep from 
 bewraying his manhood by bursting into tears. 
 
 " Going to die — oh ! pooh, pooh, pooh, she is not going 
 to die, lad ! tell me all about it," said the doctor, in an 
 encouraging tone. 
 
126 
 
 THE WASTINa HEABT 
 
 She has had so much grief, and care, and anxiety, sir 
 — Doctor, is there any such malady as a broken heart ?" 
 
 ^'Broken heart ? — pooh, pooh ! no, my child, no ! never 
 heard of such a thing in thirty years^ medical experience ! 
 Even that story of a porter who broke his heart trying to 
 lift a ton of stone is all a fiction. No such disease as a 
 broken heart. But tell me about your mother V 
 
 It is of her that I am talking ; she has had so much 
 trouble in her life, and now I think she is sinking under it ; 
 she has been failing for weeks, and last night, while wash- 
 ing the teacups, she fainted away from the table P 
 " Heaven help us, that looks bad,'' said the doctor. 
 
 Oh, does it ? does it, sir ? She said it was ^nothing 
 much.' Oh, Doctor, don't say she will die ! don't ! if she 
 were to die — if mother were to die, I'd give right up ! I 
 never should do a bit of good in the world, for she is all the 
 motive I have in this life ! To study hard — to work hard, 
 and make her comfortable and happy, so as to make up to 
 her for all she has suffered, is my greatest wish and endeavor ! 
 Oh, don't say mother will die, it would ruin me !" cried 
 Traverse. 
 
 My dear boy, I don't say anything of the sort ! I say. 
 Judging from your account, that her health must be attended 
 
 to immediately. And true I have retired from practice ; 
 
 but I will go and see your mother. Traverse !" 
 
 " Oh, sir, if you only would ! I came to ask you to do 
 that very thing ! I should not have presumed to ask such 
 a favor for any cause but this of my dear mother's life and 
 health, and you will go to see her ?" 
 
 " Willingly and without delay, Traverse," said the good 
 man, rising immediately and hurrying into an adjoining 
 chamber. 
 
 Order the gig while I dress. Traverse, and I will take 
 you back with me," he added, as he closed the chamber 
 door behind him. 
 
 By the time Traverse had gone down, given the neces- 
 
THE WASTING HEAKT. 
 
 127 
 
 sary orders and returned to the library, the doctor emerged 
 from his chamber, buttoned up in his gray frock coat, and 
 booted, gloved and capped for the ride. 
 
 They went down together, entered the gig, and drove 
 rapidly down the willow avenue, slowly through the iron 
 gate and through the dark thicket, and down the wooded 
 hill to the high road, and then as fast as the sorrel mare 
 could trot towards town. In fifteen minutes, the doctor 
 pulled up his gig, at the right-hand side of the road before 
 the cottage gate. 
 
 They entered the cottage, Traverse going first in order 
 to announce the doctor. They found Mrs. Rocke, as usual, 
 seated in her low chair by the little fire, bending over her 
 needle work. She looked up with surprise as they came 
 in. 
 
 Mother, this is Doctor Day, come to see you,^' said 
 Traverse. 
 
 She arose from her chair, and raised those soft and 
 timid dark gray eyes to the stranger's face, where they met 
 that sweet, intense smile that seemed to encourage while it 
 shone upon her. 
 
 We have never met before, Mrs. Eocke, but we both 
 feel too much interest in this good lad here to meet as 
 strangers now,^^ said the doctor, extending his hand. 
 
 Traverse gives me every day fresh cause to be grate- 
 ful to you, sir, for kindness that we can never, never repay, 
 said Marah Kocke, pressing that bountiful hand, and then 
 placing a chair, which the doctor took. 
 
 Traverse seated himself at a little distance, and as the 
 doctor conversed with and covertly examined his mother's 
 face, he watched the doctor^s countenance, as if life and 
 death hung upon the character of its expression. But while 
 they talked, not one word was said upon the subject of 
 sickness or medicine. They talked of Traverse. The doc- 
 tor assured his mother that her son was a boy of such fine 
 talent, character and promise, that he had already made 
 
128 
 
 THE WASTING HEAET. 
 
 such rapid progress in his classical and mathematical stud- 
 ies, that he ought immediately to enter upon a course of 
 reading for one of the learned professions. 
 
 The mother turned a smile full of love, pride and sor- 
 row upon the fine, intellectual face of her hoy, and said : 
 
 " You are like the angel in Golems picture of life. You 
 point the youth to the far-up temple of fame — " 
 
 " And leave him to get there as he can. Not at all 
 madam ! Let us see. Traverse, you are now going on 
 eighteen years of age ; if you had your choice, which of the 
 learned professions would you prefer for yourself — law, 
 physic, or divinity ?" 
 
 The boy looked up and smiled, then dropped his head 
 and seemed to reflect. 
 
 Perhaps you have never thought upon the subject. 
 Well, you must take time — you must take time ! so as to 
 be firm in your decision when you have once decided/' said 
 the doctor. 
 
 Oh, sir, I have thought of it long ! and my choice has 
 been long and firmly decided, were I only free to follow 
 it \" 
 
 Speak, lad ! What is your choice 
 
 <i Why, don't you hnow, sir ? Can't you guess ? Why, 
 your oion profession, of course, sir ! Certainly, sir, I could 
 not think of any other !" exclaimed the boy, with sparkling 
 eyes and flushed cheeks. 
 
 ^'Tfiafs my own lad !" exclaimed the doctor, enthusiasti- 
 cally seizing the boy's hand with one of his, and clapping 
 the other down upon his palm ; for if the doctor had an 
 admiration in the world it was for his own profession. 
 
 That's my own lad ! My profession ! the healing art ! why, 
 it is the only profession worthy the study of an immortal 
 being. Laio sets people by the ears together ! Divinity 
 should never be considered as a profession — it is a divine 
 mission ! Physic ! physic, my boy ! The healing art ! 
 that's the profession for you ! And I am very glad to hear 
 
THE WASTING HEAKT. 
 
 129 
 
 you declare for it, too ; for now the way is perfectly 
 clear 
 
 Both mother and son looked up in surprise. 
 
 Yes, the way is perfectly clear. Nothing is easier I 
 Traverse shall come and read medicine in my ofiSce. I 
 shall be glad to have the lad there. It will amuse me to 
 give him instruction occasionally ! I have a positive mania 
 for teaching.-'^ 
 
 And for doing good ! Oh, sir, how have we deserved 
 this kindness at your hands ? and how shall we ever, ever 
 repay it ?" cried Mrs. Eocke, in a broken voice, while the 
 tears filled her gentle eyes. 
 
 Oh, pooh, pooh ! a mere nothing, ma^am ! a mere 
 nothing for me to do, whatever it may prove to him. It is 
 very hard, indeed, if I am to be crushed under a cart load 
 of thanks for doing something for a boy I like, when it 
 does not cost me a cent of money, or a breath of effort.^^ 
 
 *'0h, sir, your generous refusal of our thanks does but 
 deepen our obligation, said Marah, still weeping. 
 
 Now, my dear madam, will you persist in making me 
 confess that it is all selfishness on my part ? I lilce the 
 boy, I tell you ! I shall like his bright, cheerful face in 
 my office. I can make him very useful to me, also " 
 
 Oh, sir ! if you can and will only make him useful to 
 you " 
 
 ^*Why, to be sure I can, and will ! He can act as my 
 clerk, keep my accounts, write my letters, drive out witli 
 me, and sit in the gig while I go in to visit my patients, 
 for though I have pretty much retired from practice, 
 
 stm ! 
 
 Still you visit and prescribe for the sick poor, 
 gratis !" added Marah, feelingly. 
 
 '^Pooh, pooh! habit, madam, habit ! 'ruling passion 
 strong in death,' etc. I can% for the life of me, keep 
 from giving people bread pills ! And now, by the way, I 
 must be off to see some of my patients in Staunton ! Trtiv- 
 
130 
 
 THE WASTING HEART. 
 
 erse^ my lad — my young medical assistant, I mean — are you 
 willing to go with me 
 
 Oh, sir," said the boy, and here his voice broke" down 
 with emotion. 
 
 Come along, then \" laughed the doctor ; ^'you shall 
 drive with me into the village as a commencement/' 
 
 Traverse got his hat, while the doctor held out his hand 
 to Mrs. Rocke, who, with her eyes full of tears, and her 
 voice faltering with emotion, began again to thank liim, 
 when he good-hum oredly interrupted her by saying : 
 
 Now, my good little womoji, do— pray — hush! Vm 
 a selfish fellow, as you'll see ! I do nothing but what 
 pleases my own self, and makes me happy ! Good-bye ! 
 God bless you, madam \" he cried, cordially shaking her 
 hand. " Come, Traverse,'' he added, hurriedly striding out 
 of the door and through the yard, to the gate before which 
 the old green gig and sorrel mare were still waiting. 
 
 Traverse, I brought you out again to-day, more espec- 
 ially to speak of your mother and her state of health," said 
 Doctor Day, very seriously, as they both took their seats in 
 the gig and drove on towards the town. ''Traverse, your 
 mother is in no immediate danger of death, in fact, she has 
 no disease whatever !" 
 
 ''Oh, sir, you do not think her ill, then ! I thought 
 you did not, from the fact that you never felt her pulse, or 
 gave her a prescription !" exclaimed Traverse, delightedly, 
 for in one thing the lad resembled his mother — he was 
 sensitive and excitable — easily depressed and easily exhila- 
 rated. 
 
 " Traverse, I said your mother is in no immediate dan- 
 ger of death, for that in fact she has no disease ; but yet. 
 Traverse, brace yourself up, for I am about to strike you a 
 heavy blow ! Traverse ! Marah Rocke is — starving 
 
 " Starving ! Heaven of Heavens ! no ! that is not so ! 
 it cannot be ! My mother starving ! oh, horrible ! horrible I 
 But, Doctor, it cannot — cannot be ! Why, we have two 
 
THE WASTING HSABT, 
 
 131 
 
 meals a day at our house cried the boy, almost beside him- 
 self with agitation. 
 
 Lad, there are other starvations beside the total lack 
 of food ! there are slow starvations and divers ones ! Marali 
 Eocke is starving slowly and in every way ! mind, soul and 
 body ! her body is slowly wasting from the want of pro^^er 
 nutriment, her heart from the want of human sympathy, 
 her mind from the need of social intercourse. Her whole 
 manner of life must be changed if she is to live at all V 
 
 *'0h, sir, I understand you now ! I feel, I feel that you 
 speak the very truth ! Something must be done ! I must 
 do something. What shall it be ? Oh, advise me, sir I" 
 
 "I must reflect a little. Traverse," said the doctor, 
 thoughtfully, as he drove along with very slack reins. 
 
 " And, oh, how thoughtless of me ! I forgot, indeed I 
 did, sir, when I so gladly accepted your offer for me to 
 read with you, I forgot that if I spent every day reading in 
 your office, my mother would sadly miss the dollar and a 
 half a week I made by doing little odd j.obs in town." 
 
 ^^But / did not forget it, boy; rest easy upon that 
 score ; and now let me reflect how we can best serve your 
 good little mother !" said the doctor, and he drove slowly 
 and thoughtfully along for about twenty minutes before he 
 spoke again, when he said : 
 
 " Traverse, Monday is the first of the month. You 
 shall set in with me then. Come to me, therefore, on 
 Monday, and I think by that time, I shall have thought 
 upon some plan for your mother. In the meantime, you 
 may make as much money at jobs as you can, and also you 
 must acc?pt from me for her a bottle or so of port wine and 
 a turkey or two ! Tell her, if she demurs, that it is the 
 doctor's prescription, and that for fear of accidents he 
 always prefers to send his own physic !" 
 
 Oh, Doctor Day, if I could only thank you aright !" 
 cried Traverse. 
 
 " Pooh, pooh ! nonsense ! there is no time for it. Here 
 
132' 
 
 cap's country capers. 
 
 we are at Spicer's grocery store, where I suppose you are 
 again employed. Yes ? Well, jump out then. You can 
 still make half a day. Mind, remember on Monday next, 
 December 1st, you enter my office as my medical student, 
 and by that time I shall have some plan arranged for your 
 mother. Good-bye ! God bless you lad V said the good 
 doctor, as he drove off and left Traverse standing in the 
 genial Tautumn sunshine, with his heart swelling and his 
 eyes overflowing with excess of gratitude and happiness. 
 
 CHAPTER XVm 
 cap's country capers. 
 
 " A willful elf — an uncle's child. 
 That half a pet and half a pest, 
 Was still reproved, endured, caressed 
 Yet never tamed, though never spoiled." 
 
 Oapitola at first was delighted and half incredulous at 
 the great change in her fortunes. The spacious and com- 
 fortable mansion of which she found herself the little mis- 
 tress ; the high rank of the veteran officer who claimed her 
 as his ward and niece ; the abundance, regularity, and 
 respectability of her new life ; the leisure, the privacy, the 
 attendance of servants, were all so entirely different from 
 anything to which she had previously been accustomed, that 
 there were times when she doubted its reality, and distrusted 
 her own identity or her sanity. 
 
 Sometimes, of a morning, after a very vivid dream of 
 the alleys, cellars, and gutters, rag-pickers, newsboys, and 
 beggars of New York, she would open her eyes upon her 
 own comfortable chamber, with its glowing fire and crimson 
 
OAP^S COtTNTRY 0APEE8. 
 
 curtains, its briglit mirror crowning the walnut bureau 
 between them, and would jump up and gaze wildly around, 
 not remember mg where she was, or how she came thither. 
 
 Sometimes, suddenly started by an intense realization of 
 the contrast between her past and her present life, she 
 would mentally inquire : 
 
 ^' Can this be really / myself, and not another ? /, the 
 little houseless wanderer through the streets and alleys of 
 New York ? /, the little news-girl in boy^s clothes ? /, 
 the wretched little vagrant that was brought up before the 
 Eecorder, and was about to be sent to the House of Eefuge 
 for juvenile delinquents ? Can this be /, Capitola, the 
 little outcast of the city, now changed into Miss Black, the 
 young lady, perhaps the heiress of a fine old country seat ! 
 calling a fine old military officer uncle ! having a handsome 
 income of pocket-money settled upon me ! having carriages, 
 and horses, and servants to attend me ? No ; it can^t be ! 
 it^s just impossible. No — I see how it is. I^m crazy, tliat/s 
 what 1 am — crazy ! For now I think of it, the last thing 
 I remember of my former life was being brought before the 
 Recorder for wearing boy^s clothes. Now Fm sure that it 
 was upon that occasion that I went suddenly mad with 
 trouble, and all the rest is a lunatic's fancy. This fine old 
 country seat, of which I vainly think myself the mistress, 
 is just tlie pauper mad-house to wliich the magistrates have 
 sent me. This fine old military officer whom I call my 
 uncle is the head-doctor. The servants who come at my 
 call are the keepers. 
 
 There is no figure out of my past life in my present 
 one, except Herbert Greyson. But, pshaw ! he is not ' the 
 nephew of his uncle !' he is only my old comrade Herbert 
 Greyson, the sailor lad, who comes here to the mad-house 
 to see me, and out of compassion humors all my fancies. 
 
 " I wonder how long they'll keep me here ? Forever I 
 hope. Until I get cured I'm sure ! I hope they won't 
 
134 
 
 cure me. I vow I won^t le cured. It's a great deal too 
 pleasant to be mad, and I'll stay so. I'll keep on calling 
 myself Miss Black, and this mad-house my country seat, 
 and the head-doctor my uncle, and the keepers servants until 
 the end of time — so I will. Catch me coming to my senses 
 when it's so delightful to be mad. I'm too sharp for tliat. 
 I didn't grow up in Rag Alley, New York, for nothing." 
 
 So, half in jest and half in earnest, Oapitola soliloquized 
 upon lier change of fortune. 
 
 Her education was commenced, but progressed rather 
 irregularly. Old Hurricane bought her books and maps, 
 slates and copy-books, set her lessons in grammar, geogra- 
 phy and history, and made her write copies, do sums, and 
 read and recite lessons to him. Mrs. Condiment taught 
 her the mysteries of cutting and basting, back-stiching and 
 felling, hemming and seaming. A pupil as sharp as Capi- 
 tola soon mastered her tasks, and found herself each day 
 with many houi's of leism^e, with which she did not know 
 what to do. 
 
 Tiiese hours were at first occupied with exploring the 
 old house, with all its attics, cuddies, cock-lofts and cel- 
 lars ; then in wandering through the old ornamental 
 grounds, that were, even in winter and in total neglect, 
 beautiful with their wild growth of evergreens ; thence she 
 extended her researches into the wild and picturesque coun- 
 try around. 
 
 She was never weary of admiring the great forest that 
 climbed the heights of the moantains behind their house ; 
 the great bleak precipices of gi'ay rocks seen through the 
 le;ifiess branches of the trees ; the I'ugged falling grouiMl tiiat 
 lay before the house, and between it and the river ; and the 
 river itself, with its rushing stream and raging rapids. 
 
 Capitola had become a skilful as she had first been a 
 fearless rider. But her rides were confined to the domain 
 between the mountain range and the river ; she was for- 
 bidden to ford the one or to climb the other. Perhaps if 
 
cap's country capees. 
 
 135 
 
 such a proliibitiou had never been made, Cap would never 
 thought of doing the one or the other ; but we all know 
 the diabolical fascination there is in forbidden pleasures for 
 young human nature. And no sooner had Cap been com- 
 manded, if she valued her safety, not to cross the water or 
 climb the precipice, than, as a natural consequence, she 
 began to wonder what was in the valley behind the moun- 
 tain, and what might be in the woods across the river ! and 
 she longed, above all things, to explore and find out for her- 
 self. She would eagerly have done so, notwithstanding the 
 prohibition ; but Wool, who always attended her rides, was 
 sadly in the way ; if she could only get rid of Wool, she 
 resolved to go upon a limited exploring expedition. 
 
 One day a golden opportunity occurred. It was a day of 
 unusual beauty, when autumn seemed to be smiling upon 
 the earth with her brightest smiles before passing away. 
 In a word, it was Indian summer. The beauty of the 
 weather had tempted Old Hurricane to ride to the county 
 seat on particular business connected with his ward herself. 
 
 Capitola, left alone, amused herself with her tasks until 
 the afternoon ; then calling a boy, she ordered him to saddle 
 her horse and bring him around. 
 
 ^*My dear, what do you want with your horse ? There 
 is no one to attend you ; Wool has gone with Ins mas- 
 ter,^' said Mrs. Condiment^ as she met Oapitola in the hall, 
 habited for her ride. 
 
 I know that ; but I cannot be mewed up here in the 
 old house and deprived of my afternoon ride V exclaimed 
 Capitola, decidedly. 
 
 But, my dear, you must never think of riding out 
 alone V exclaimed the dismayed Mrs. Condiment. 
 
 "Indeed I shall though! — and glad of the oppor- 
 tunity V added Cap, mentally. 
 
 But, my dear love, it is improper, imprudent, dan- 
 gerous.^^ 
 
 "Why so ?" asked Cap. 
 
136 
 
 GAP S COUNTRY CAPERS-l 
 
 Good gracious, upon every account. Suppose you 
 were to meet with ruffians ; suppose — oli, heaven ! — sup- 
 pose you were to meet with — Black Donald V 
 
 "Mrs. Condiment, once for all do tell me who this ter- 
 rible Black Donald is ? Is he the Evil one himself, or the 
 Man in the Iron Mask, or the individual that struck Billy 
 Patterson, or — who is he 
 
 Who is Black Donald ? Good gracious, child, you 
 ask me who is Black Donald ?" 
 
 " Yes — wJio is he ? where is he ? what is he, that every 
 cheek turns pale at the mention of his name ?" asked Cap- 
 itola. 
 
 Black Donald ! Oh, my child, may you never know 
 more of Black Donald than I can tell you. Black Donald 
 is the chief of a band of ruthless desperadoes that infest 
 these mountain roads, robbing mail coaches, stealing 
 negroes, breaking into houses, and committing every sort 
 of depredation. Their hands are red with murder, and 
 their souls black with darker crimes.^' 
 
 " Darker crimes than murder \" ejaculated Capitola. 
 Yes, child, yes — there are darker crimes ! Only last 
 winter he and three of his gang broke into a solitary house 
 where there was a lone woman and her daughter, and — it is 
 not a story for you to hear, but if the people had caught 
 Black Donald then, they would have burnt him at a stake. 
 His life is forfeit by a hundred crimes. He is an outlaw, 
 and a heavy price is set upon his head." 
 
 " And can no one take him 
 No, my dear ; at least, no one has been able to do so 
 yet. His very haunts are unknown, but are supposed to 
 be in concealed mountain caverns." 
 
 " How I would like the glory of capturing Black Don- 
 ald \" said Capitola. 
 
 " You, child — you capture Black Donald ! You are 
 crazy." 
 
 Oh, by stratagem I mean, not by force ! Oh, how I 
 
OAP^S COUNTRY CAPEES. 
 
 137 
 
 should like to capture Black Donald ! — There's my liorse. 
 Good-bye V 
 
 And, before Mrs. Condiment could raise another 
 objection, Oapitola ran out, sprang into her saddle, and 
 was seen careering down the hill towards the river as fast 
 as her horse could fly. 
 
 My lord, but the major will be hopping if he finds it 
 out," was good Mrs. Condiment's dismayed exclamation. 
 
 Rejoicing in her freedom. Cap galloped down to the 
 water s edge, and then walked her horse up and down along 
 the course of the stream until she found a good fording 
 place. Then gathering np her riding-skirt and throwing 
 it over the neck of her horse, she plunged boldly into the 
 stream, and with the water splashing and foaming all 
 around her, urged him onward until they crossed the river 
 and climbed up the oi)posite bank. A bridle-path lay be- 
 fore her, leading from the fording place through a deep 
 wood. That path attracted her ; she followed it, charmed 
 alike by the solitude of the wood, the novelty of the scene, 
 and her own sense of freedom. But one thought was given 
 to the story of Black Donald, and that was a rc-a.^suring 
 one. 
 
 ''If Black Donald is a mail-robber, then this little 
 bridle-path is far enough off 7iis beat." 
 
 And so saying, she gaily galloped along, singing as she 
 went, following the narrow path up hill and down dale 
 through the wintry woods. Drawn on by the attraction of 
 the imhnoivn, and deceiving herself by the continued 
 repetition of one resolve, namely : 
 
 '' When I get to the top of the 7iext hill, and see what 
 lies bey(md, then I will turn back," she galloped on and on 
 — on and on — on and on ! until he had put several miles 
 between herself and her home, until her horse began to 
 exhibit signs of weariness, and the level rays of the setting 
 sun were striking redly through the leafless branches of 
 the trees. 
 
138 
 
 CAP^S COUKTBf OAPEES. 
 
 Cap drew rein on the top of a high, wooded liill, and 
 looked about her. On her left hand the sun was sinking like 
 a ball of fire below the horizon ; all around her everywhere 
 were the wintry woods ; far away, in the direction whence 
 she had come, she saw the tops of the mountains behind 
 Hurricane Hall, looking like blue clouds against the south- 
 ern horizon ; the Hall itself and the river below were out 
 of sight. 
 
 I wonder how far I am from home ?" said Capitola, 
 uneasily; somewhere between six and seven miles, I 
 reckon. Dear me, I didn^t mean to ride so far. I've got 
 over a great deal of ground in these two hours. I shall not 
 get back so soon ; my horse is tired to death ; it will take 
 me three hours to reach Hurricane Hall. Good gracious, 
 it will be pitch dark before I get there. 'No, thank heaven, 
 there'll be a moon. But won't there be a row, though ! 
 Whew ! Well, I must turn about and lose no time. Come, 
 Gryi3 ! get up, Gyp ! good horse ! we're going home !" 
 
 And so saying, Capitola turned her horse's head and 
 urged him into a gallop. 
 
 She had gone on for about a mile, and it was growing 
 dark, and her horse was again slackening his pace, when 
 she tliought she heard the sound of another horse's hoofs 
 behind her. She drew rein and listened, and was sure of 
 it. 
 
 Now, without being the least of a coward, Capitola 
 thought of the loneliness of the woods, and the lateness of 
 the hour, her own helplessness, and — Black Donald ! And 
 thinking discretion the better part of valor," she urged 
 her horse once more into a gallop, for a few hundred yards ; 
 but the jaded beast soon broke into a trot, and subsided into 
 a walk that threatened soon to come to a stand still. 
 
 The invisible pursuer gained on her. 
 
 In vain she urged her steed with whip and voice ; the 
 poor beast would obey and trot for a few yards, and then 
 fall into a walk. 
 
CAP S FEARFUL ADVENTITEE. 
 
 139 
 
 The thundering footfalls of the pursuing horse were 
 close in the rear. 
 
 Oh., Gyp ! is it possible that^ instead of my capturing 
 Black Donald, you are going to let Black Donald or some- 
 body else catch meT' exclaimed Capitola, in mock despair, 
 as she urged her wearied steed. 
 
 In vain I The pursuing horseman was beside her ! a 
 strong hand was laid upon her bridle I a mocking voice was 
 whispering in her ear : 
 
 Wliither away so fast, pretty one f 
 
 OHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 CAP'S FEAHFUL ADYEXTURE. 
 
 " Who passes by this road so late ? 
 Companion of the Majohdne ! 
 Who passes by this road so late ? 
 
 Say ! oh, say ! " — Old French Song. 
 
 Of a naturally strong constitution and adventurous dis- 
 position, and inured from infancy to danger, Capitola pos- 
 sessed a high degree of courage, self-control,, and presence 
 of mind. 
 
 At the touch of that ruthless hand, at the sound of that 
 gibing voice, all her fiiculties instantly collected and con- 
 centrated themselves upon the emergency. As by a fla-^li of 
 lightning she saw every feature of her imminePit d;in-cr — 
 the loneliless of the woods, the lateness of the hour, the 
 recklessness of her fearful companion, and her own weak- 
 ness. In another instant her resolution was taken and her 
 course determined. So, when the stranger repeated his 
 mocking question : 
 
140 
 
 cap's feakful adventure. 
 
 " hither away so fast, pretty one ?" she answered with 
 animation : 
 
 Oh, I am going home, and so glad to have company ; 
 for indeed I was dreadfully afraid of riding alone through 
 these woods to-night V 
 
 Afraid, pretty one — what of ?" 
 "Oh, of ghosts and witches, wild beasts, runaway negroes 
 and— Black Donald V 
 
 " Then you are not afraid of me 
 Lors ! no, indeed ! I guess I ain^t ! why should I be 
 afraid of a respectable-looking gentleman like you, sir 
 
 ^^And so you are going home — where is jowv home, 
 pretty one ?" 
 
 " On the other side of the river ; but you need not keep 
 on calling me ' pretty one,^ it must be as tiresome to you to 
 repeat it as it is to me to hear \i" 
 
 " What shall I call you, then, my dear 
 
 " You may call me Miss Black, or if you are friendly, 
 you may call me Oapitola/' 
 
 " Capitola !" exclaimed the man, in a deep and 
 changed voice, as he dropped her bridle. 
 
 "Yes, Capitola ! what objection have you got to that ? 
 It is a pretty name, isn't it ? but if you think it is too long, 
 and if you feel very friendly, you may call me Cap." 
 
 "Well, then, my pretty Cap, where do you live across 
 the river asked the stranger, recovering his self-posses- 
 sion. 
 
 " Oh, at a rum old place they call Hurricane Hall, with 
 a rum old military officer they call Old Hurricane," said 
 Capitola, for the first time stealing a sidelong glance at her 
 fearful companion. 
 
 It was not Black Donald — that was the first conclusion 
 to which she rashly jumped. He appeared to be a gentle- 
 manly ruffian about forty years of age, well dressed in a 
 black riding suit ; black beaver hat drawn down close over 
 bis eyes ; black hair and whiskers ; heavy black' eyebrows 
 
cap's feahftjl adventure. 
 
 141 
 
 that met across his nose ; drooping eyelasheS;, and eyes 
 that looked out under the corners of the lids ; altogether a 
 sly, sinister, cruel face, a cross between fox and tiger ! it 
 warned Capitola to expect no mercy there ! After the girFs 
 last words he seemed to have fallen into thought for a 
 moment, and then again he spoke : 
 
 *^ Well, my pretty Cap, how long have you been living 
 at Hurricane Hall ?" 
 
 ^'Ever since my guardian, Major Warfield, brought me 
 from the city of New York, where I received my education 
 — {i7i the streets),'' she mentally added. 
 
 Humph ! why did you ride so fast, my pretty Cap T* 
 he asked, eyeiog her from the corner of his eyes. 
 
 " Oh, sir, because I was afraid, as I told you before ; 
 afraid of runawaj" negroes and wild beasts, and so on — but 
 now with a good gentleman like you I don't feel afraid at 
 all ; and Fm very glad to be able to walk poor Gyp ; because 
 he's tired, poor fellow 
 
 ''Yes, poor fellow!'' said the traveler, in a mocking 
 tone, ''he is tired ; suppose you dismount and let him rest. 
 Come, I'll get off, too, and we will sit down here by the 
 roadside and have a friendly conversation." 
 
 Capitola stole a glance at his face. Yes, notwithstand- 
 ing his light tone, he was grimly in earnest ; there was no 
 mercy to be expected from that.«ly, sinister, cruel face. 
 
 " Come, my pretty Cap, what say you ?" 
 
 " I don't care if I do/' she said, riding to the edge of 
 the path, drawing rein, and looking down as if to examine 
 the ground. 
 
 " Come, little beauty, must I help you off ?" asked the 
 stranger. 
 
 " N-n-no," answered Capitola, with deliberate hesita- 
 tion, "no, this is not a good place to sit down and talk; it's 
 all full of brambles." 
 
 " Very Tfell ; shall we go on a little further ?" 
 
142 
 
 cap's feaeful adventube. 
 
 ^''Oli^ yes ; but I don^fc want to ride fast, because it will 
 tire my horse." 
 
 You shall go just as you please, my angel," said the 
 traveler. 
 
 I wonder whether this wretch thinks me very simple 
 or very depraved — he must have come to one or the other 
 conclusion, thought Capitola. 
 
 They rode on very slowly for a mile further, and then 
 having arrived at an open glade, the stranger drew rein, and 
 said : 
 
 Come, pretty lark, hop down ! here^s a nice place to 
 sit and rest." 
 
 Very well, come help me off !" said Capitola, pulling 
 up her horse — then, as by a sudden impulse, she exclaimed, 
 I don^t like this place either ! it's right on the top of the 
 hill ! so windy ! and just see liow rocky the ground is ! No ! 
 ril not sit and rest here, and that I tell you !" 
 
 I am afraid you are trifling with me, my pretty bird ! 
 take care ! Fll not be trifled with !" said the man. 
 
 I don't know what you mean by triflioig with you, any 
 more than the dead. But I'll not sit down there on those 
 sharp rocks, and so I tell you. If you will be civil and ride 
 along with me until we get to the foot of the hill, I know a 
 place, where we can sit down and have a good talk, and 
 I will tell you all my travels, and you shall tell me all yours. " 
 '■^Ex-actly — and where *s that nice place ?" 
 
 Why, in the valley at the foot of the hill." 
 
 Come ! come on, then." 
 
 Slowly! slowly!" said Capitola — ^'1 won't tire my 
 horse." 
 
 They rode over the hill, down the gradual descent, and on 
 towards the centre of the valley. 
 
 They were now within a quarter of a mile of the river, 
 on the opposite side of which was Hurricane Hall and — 
 safety I The stranger drew rein, saying ; 
 
CAP'S FEAEFUL ADVENTURE. 
 
 143 
 
 " Come, my cuckoo ! here we are at the bottom of the 
 valley ! now or never \" 
 
 Oh ! now, of course ! you see I keep my promise/' 
 answered Capitola, pulling up her horse. 
 
 The man sprang from his saddle and came to her side. 
 Please to be careful, now, don't let my riding skirt get 
 hung in the stirrup,^^ said Capitola, cautiously disengaging 
 her drapery, rising in the saddle and giving the stranger her 
 hand. In the act of jumping, she suddenly stopped and 
 looked down, exclaiming : 
 
 " Good gracious ! how very damp the ground is here in 
 the bottom of the valley \" 
 
 ^'More objections, I suppose, my pretty one ! but tlu^y 
 won't serve you any longer. I am bent upon hjiving a cozy 
 chat with you, upon that very turf !" said the stranger, 
 pointing to a little cleared space among the trees beside the 
 path. 
 
 '^Now, don't be cross ; just see how damp it is tljere ; 
 it would spoil my riding-dress, and give me my death of 
 cold.'' 
 
 Hi0nph" said the stranger, looking at her with a sly, 
 grim, cruel resolve. 
 
 " I'll tell you what it is," said Cap, ^' I'm not witty nor 
 amusing, nor will ii pay to sit out in the night air to heiir 
 me talk ; but since you wish it, and since you v/erc so g{.od 
 as to guard me through these woods, and since I promised, 
 why, damp as it is, I will even get off and talk with you !" 
 That's my birdling." 
 
 '^But hold on one minute. Is there nothing you can 
 get to put there for me to sit on — no stump, nor dry stone ?" 
 
 ''No, my dear, I don't see any." 
 
 '' Could you not turn your hat down and let me sit on 
 that ?" 
 
 ''Ha, ha, ha ! why, your weight would crush it as flat 
 as a flounder !" 
 
 "Oh ! I know now !" exclaimed Capitola, with sudden 
 
GAP S FEARI^DL ADVENTtJRE. 
 
 delight. You just spread your saddle cloth down there, 
 and that will make a beautiful seat, and Vll sit and talk 
 with you so nicely — only you must not want me to stay long, 
 because if I don^t get home soon I shall catch a scolding." 
 
 You shall neither catch a scolding nor a cold on my 
 account, pretty one \" said the man, going to, his horse to 
 get the saddle-cloth. 
 
 Oh, don^t take off the saddle ; it will detain you too 
 long,'' said Cap, impatiently. 
 
 " My pretty Cap, I cannot get the cloth without taking 
 it off,'' said the man, beginning to unbuckle the girth. 
 
 Oh, yes you can ! you can draw it from under !" per- 
 sisted Cap. 
 
 Impossible, my angel !" said the man, lifting off the 
 saddle from his horse and laying it carefully by the road- 
 side. 
 
 Then he took off the gay, crimson saddle-cloth, and 
 carried it into the little clearing and began carefully to 
 spread it down. 
 
 Now was Cap's time. Her horse had recovered from 
 his fatigue. The stranger's horse was in the path before 
 her. While the man's back was turned, she raised her rid- 
 ing-whip, and with a shout, gave the front horse a sharp 
 lash that sent him galloping furiously ahead. Then in- 
 stantaneously putting whip to her own horse, she started 
 into a run. 
 
 Hearing the shout, the lash, and the starting of the 
 horses, the baffled villain turned and saw that his game was 
 lost ! He had been outwitted by a child ! He gnashed his 
 teeth and shook his fist in rage. 
 
 Turning, as she wheeled out of sight, Capitola — I'm 
 sorry to say — put her thumb to the side of her nose, and 
 whirled her fingers into a semi-circle, in a gesture more 
 expressive than elegant. 
 
ANOTHEB BTOEM AT HUERIGANE HALL. l45 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ANOTHER STOEM AT HUEEICANE HALL. 
 
 " At this, Sir Knight grew high in wroth, 
 And hfting hands and eyes up both, 
 Three times he smote ou stomach stout. 
 From whence, at length, fierce words broke out."- 
 
 — HUDIBRAS. 
 
 The moon was shining full upon the river and the 
 household beyond^ when Capitola dashed into the water, 
 and amid the sparkling and leaping of the foam, made her 
 way to the other bank, and rode up the rugged ascent. On 
 the outer side of the lawn wall, the moonbeams fell full 
 upon the little figure of Pitapat, waiting there. 
 
 Why, Patty, what takes you out so late as this 
 asked Capitola, as she rode up to the gate. 
 
 ^^Oh, Miss Caterpillar, Fse waitin^ for yon I Ole Marse 
 is dreadful, lie is I jes fit to burst the shingles offen the roof 
 with swearing ! So I come out to warn you, so you can 
 steal in the back way and go to your rooms so he won^t see 
 you, and Fli go and send Wool to put your horse away, 
 and then Til bring you up some supper, and tell Ole Marse 
 how you've been home ever so long, and gone to bed with 
 a werry bad head-ache." 
 
 ^' Thank you, Patty. It is perfectly astonishing, how 
 easy lying is to you. You really deserve to have been 
 born in Eag Alley. But I won't trouble the Recording 
 Angel to make another entry against you on my account.'-' 
 
 Yes, Miss,^' said Pitapat, who thought that her mis- 
 tress was complimenting her. 
 
 And now, Patty, stand out of my way. Fm going to 
 ride straight \sg to the horse-block, dismount, and walk 
 
146 
 
 ANOTHEB STORM AT HtJREIOAlirE HALL. 
 
 right into the presence of Major Warfield V said Oapitola^ 
 j)assing through the gate. 
 
 Oh, Miss Caterpillar, don't ! don't ! he'll kill you, so 
 he will V 
 
 " Who's afeared ?" muttered Cap to herself, as she put 
 her horse to his mettle, and rode gaily tlirbugli the ever- 
 greens, up to the horse-block, where she sprang down 
 lightly from her saddle. 
 
 Gathering u]) lier train with one hand and tossing back 
 her head, she swept along toward the house with the air of 
 a young princess. 
 
 There was a vision calculated to test her firmness. 
 Eoader 1 did you ever see a raging lion tearing to and fro 
 the narrow limits of his cage, and occasionally shaking the 
 amphitheatre with bis tremendous roar ? or a furious bull 
 tossing Jiis head and tail, and ploughing up the earth with 
 his hoofs as he careered back and forth between the boun- 
 daries of his pen ? If you have seen and noted these mad 
 bi'utcs, you may form some faint idea of the frenzy of Old 
 Hurricane, as he stormed up and down the fioo]* of the 
 front piazza. 
 
 Cap had just escaped an actual danger of too terrible a 
 character to be frightened now by sound and fary. Com- 
 posedly she v/alked up into the porch, and said : 
 Grood evening, uncle." 
 
 The old man stoj)ped short in his furious strides, and 
 ghired upon her with his terrible eyes. 
 
 Cap stood fire without blenching, merely remarking : 
 N^ow I have no doubt that in the days when you went 
 battleing, that look used to strike terror into the l)e;irt of 
 the enemy, but it doesn't into mine, somehow!" 
 
 ^'^Miss 1" roared the old man, bringing down his cane 
 with a resounding thump upon the floor; ^^Miss ! how 
 dare you have the impudence to face me, much less tlie — 
 the — the assurance I — the effrontery ! — the audacity ! the 
 brass to speak to me !" 
 
ANOTHER STOEM AT nURRIOANE HALL. 
 
 147 
 
 " Well, I declare/^ said Gap, calmly untj'ing her liat, 
 ^^this is the first time I ever heard it was impudent in a 
 little girl to give her uncle good evening.''^ 
 
 The old man trotted up and down the piazza two or 
 three turns, then stopping short before the delinquent, he 
 struck his caue down upon the floor with a ringing stroke, 
 and thundered : 
 
 "Young woman ! tell me instantly, and without pre- 
 varication, where you have been 
 
 '^Certainly, sir; ''going to and fro iu the earth, and 
 walking up and down in it !' " said Cap, quietly. 
 
 '^Flames and furies, that is no answer at all! 
 Where have you been roared Old Hurricane, shaking 
 with excitement. 
 
 ^^Look here, uncle, if you go on that way you^ll have a 
 fit presently \" said Cap, calmly. 
 
 Where have you been !" thundored Old Hurri- 
 cane. 
 
 " Well, since you will know— just across the river, aud 
 through the woods and back again !'' 
 
 And didn't 1 fori id you to do that, minion ? and how 
 dare you disobey me ? Yoit, the creature of my bounty ! 
 yov, the miserable little vagraut that I picked up in the 
 alleys of New York, and tj^ied to make a young lady of ; but 
 an old proverb says — ^ You can't make a silken purse out 
 of a pig's ear V How dare you, you little beggar, disobey 
 your benefactor ! — a man of my age, character and 
 position ? — I — I — — " Old Hurricane turned abruptly, and 
 raged up and down the piazza. 
 
 All this time Capitola had been standing quietly, hold- 
 ing up her train with one hand and her riding hat in the 
 other. At this last insult she raised her dark gray eyes to 
 his face with one long, indignaut, sorrowful gaze, then turn- 
 ing silently away, and entering the house, she left Old 
 Hurricane to storm up and down the piazza until he had 
 raged himself to rest. 
 
148 ANOTHER STORM AT HURRICANE HALL. 
 
 Header ! I do not defend, far less approve, poor Cap ! 
 I only tell her story and describe her as I have seen her, 
 leaving her to your charitable interpretation. 
 
 Next morning Capitola came down into the breakfast- 
 room with one idea prominent in her hard, little head — to 
 which she mentally gave expression : 
 
 Well as I like that old man, he must not permit him- 
 self to talk to me in that indecent strain, and so he must 
 be made to know.^^ 
 
 When she entered the breakfast-room, she found Mrs. 
 Condiment already at the head of the table, and old Hurri- 
 cane at the foot. He had quite got over his rage, and 
 turned around blandly to welcome his ward, saying : 
 Good-morning, Cap.-*^ 
 
 Without taking the slightest notice of the salutation. 
 Cap, sailed on to her seat. 
 
 Humph ! did you hear me say, ^ Good-morning / 
 
 Without paying the least attention, Capitola readied 
 out her hand and took a cup of coffee from Mrs. Condiment. 
 
 Humph ! Humph ! Good-morning, Capitola said 
 old Hurricane, with marked emphasis. Apparently without 
 hearing him. Cap helped herself to a buckwlieat-cake, and 
 daintily buttered it. 
 
 *^ Humph ! humph ! humph ! well, as you said your- 
 self, ' a dumb devil, is better than a speaking one !' " ejacu- 
 lated Old Hurricane, as he sat down and subsided into 
 silence. 
 
 Doubtless the old man would have flown into another 
 passion, had that been possible; but, in truth, he had 
 spent so much vitality in rage number 07ie, that he had 
 none left to sustain rage number two. Besides, he knew it 
 would be necessary to blow up Bill Ezy, his lazy overseer, 
 before night, and perhaps saved himself for that perform- 
 ance. He finished his meal in silence, and went out. 
 
 Cap finished hers ; and, ' tempering justice with mercy,' 
 went up stairs to his room, and looked over all his appoint- 
 
/ 
 
 ANOTHER STOEM AT HUKEICANE HALL. 149 
 
 ments and belongings to find what she could do for his 
 extra comfort ; and found a job in newly lining his warm 
 slippers, and the sleeves of his dressing-gown. 
 
 They met again at the dinner-table. 
 
 " How do you do. Cap ?" said Old Hurricane, as he 
 took his seat. 
 
 Capitola poured out a glass of water and drank it in 
 silence, and without looking at him. 
 
 ^^Oh ! very well ! ^ a dumb devil, etc.,''^'' exclaimed Old 
 Hurricane, addressing himself to his dinner. When the 
 meal was over they again separated. The old man went to 
 his study to examine his farm books, and Capitola back to 
 her chamber to finish lining his warm slippers. 
 
 Again at tea they met. 
 
 " Well, Cap, is ^ the dumb devil ' cast out yet he 
 said, sitting down. 
 
 Capitola took a cup of tea from Mrs. Condiment and 
 passed it on to him in silence. 
 
 Humph, not gone yet, eh ? — ^poor girl ! how it must 
 try you !" said Old Hurricane. 
 
 After supper the old man found his dressing-gown and 
 slippers before the fire all ready for his use. 
 
 Cap, you monkey ! you did this,^' he said, turning 
 around. But Capitola had already left the room. 
 
 Next morning at breakfast there was a repetition of the 
 same scene. Early in the forenoon Major Warfield ordered 
 his horses, and, attended by Wool, rode up to Tip-Top. 
 He did not return either to dinner or tea, but as that cir- 
 cumstance was not unusual it gave no one uneasiness. 
 Mrs. Condiment kept his supper warm, and Capitola had 
 his dressing-gown and slippers ready. 
 
 She was turning them before the fire when the old man 
 arrived. He caino in quite gayly, saying : 
 
 Now, Cap, I think I have found a talisman at last to 
 cast out that 'dumb devil/ I heard you wishing for a 
 watch the other day. Now, as "^^devils belong to eternity, 
 
150 
 
 ANOTHER STOKM AT HURRICANE HALL. 
 
 and have no business with time, of course the sight of this 
 little time-keeper must put yours to fliglit and so saying 
 he laid upon the table, before the eyes of Capitola, a beau- 
 tiful little gold watch and chain. She glanced at it, as it 
 lay glittering and sparkling in the lamp-light, and then 
 turned abruptly and walked away. 
 
 Humph ! that^s always the way the devils do ! fly when 
 they can^t stand shot V 
 
 Oapitola deliberately walked back, laid a paper over the 
 little watch and chain, as if to cover its fascinating sparkle 
 and glitter, and said : 
 
 Uncle, your bounty is large, and your present is beau- 
 tiful ; but there is something that poor Capitola values more 
 than that " 
 
 She paused, dropped her head upon her bosom, a sudden 
 blush flamed up over her face, and tear drops glistened in 
 her downcast eyes ; she put both hands before her burning 
 face for a moment, and then dropjoing them, resumed : 
 
 "Uncle! you rescued me from misery, and perhaps, 
 perliaps early death ! you have heaped benefits and bounties 
 upon me without measure ! you have placed me in a home 
 of abundance, honor and security ! for all this, if I were 
 not grateful, I should deserve no less than death ! But, 
 uncle, there is a sin that is worse, or at least more ungener- 
 ous, than ingratitude ! it is to put a helpless fellow creature 
 under heavy obligations, and then treat that grateful creature 
 with undeserved contempt and cruel unkindness Once 
 more her voice was choked with feeling. 
 
 For some reason or other, Capitola's tears, perhaps be- 
 cause they were so rare, always moved Old Hurricane to his 
 hearths center ; going towards her softly he aid : 
 
 " Now, my dear, now my child, now my little Cap, you 
 hnoio it was all for your own good ! Why, my dear, I never 
 for one instant regretted bringing you to the house, and I 
 wouldn^t part with you for a kingdom ! Come now, my 
 child, come to the heart of your old uncle." 
 
ANOTHER STOEM AT HUKRICA2TE HALL. 
 
 151 
 
 Xow the soul of Capitol a naturally abhorred seutimeut I 
 If ever she gave ^av ro serious emorioii,, she was sure to 
 avenge herself by being more capricious than before. Conse- 
 quently flinging herself ont of the caressing arms of Old 
 Hurricane^, she exclaimed : 
 
 Uncle I I won't be treated with both kicks and half- 
 pennies by the same person — and so I tell you. I'm nut a 
 cur to be fed with roast-beef and beaten with a stick ! nor, 
 nor, nor a Turk^s slave to be caressed and oppressed as her 
 master likes ! — Such abuse as you heaped upon me, I never 
 heard — no, not even in Eag Alley.'"'' 
 
 Oh, my dear, mv dear, for Heaven's sake forget liag 
 Alley." 
 
 ^'I won't I I vow I'll go back to Eag Alley, for a very 
 little more I Freedom and peace are even sweeter than 
 wealth and honors V' 
 
 Ah, but I wotildn't let you, my little Cap.*'" 
 
 Then I'd have you np before the nearest magistrate, 
 to show by what right yon detained me I Ah, ba I I wasn't 
 brought tip in Xew York for nothing V 
 
 Whee-ew ! and all this because,, for her own good, I 
 gave my own nicce and ward a little gentle admonition.'^ 
 
 Gentle admonition I Do yon call that gentle aduioni- 
 tion ? Why, uncle, you are enough to frighten most people 
 to death with your fury I You are a perfect dragon I a 
 griffin I a Eussian bear I a Bengal tiger I a Xumidiau lion I 
 I declare if I d^n't vaite and ask some menagerie man to 
 send a party down here to catch yon for his show. You'd 
 droAC, I tell you \'' 
 
 Yes I especially with you for a keeper to stir me np 
 once in a while with a long pole 
 
 " And that Td engage to do — cTieaj:) 
 The entrance of Mrs. Condiment with the tea-tray ]ntt 
 an end to the controvL-rsy. It vras. as yet. a drawn battle. 
 
 And what about the vv-atch, my little Cap ?'■' 
 " Take it back, uncle, if yon please." 
 
152 ANOTHER STORM AT HURRICANE HALL. 
 
 But they won^t have it back ! it has got your initials 
 engraved upon it — ^look here/^ said the old man^ holding 
 the watch to her eyes. 
 
 C. L. N. Those are not my initials/^ said Oapitola, 
 looking up with surprise. 
 
 ''Why, so they are not ! the blamed fools have made a 
 mistake ! — but you^ll have to take it, Cap.^^ 
 
 ''No, uncle, keep it for the present," said Oapitola, who 
 was too honest to take a gift that she felt she did not 
 deserve, and yet too j^roud to confess as much. 
 
 Peace was proclaimed — for the present. 
 
 Alas ! ^twas but of short continuance. During these 
 two days of coolness and enforced quietude Old Hurricane 
 had gathered a store of bad humors that required expen- 
 diture. 
 
 So the very next day something went wrong upon the 
 farm, and Old Hurricane came storming home, driving his 
 overseer, poor, old, meek Billy Ezy and his man Wool, be- 
 fore him. 
 
 Billy Ezy was whimpering ; Wool was sobbing aloud ; 
 Old Hurricane was roaring at them both as he drove them 
 on before him — swearing that Ezy should go and find him- 
 self a new home, and Wool should go and seek another 
 master. 
 
 And for this cause Old Hurricane was driving them on 
 to his study, that he might pay the overseer his last quar- 
 ter's salary, and give the servant a written order to find a 
 master. 
 
 He raged past Capitola in the hall, and meeting Mrs, 
 Condiment at the study door, ordered her to bring in her 
 account book directly, for that he would not be imposed 
 upon any longer, but meant to drive all the lazy, idle, dis- 
 honest eye-servants and time-servers from the house and 
 land ! 
 
 "What's the matter now ?" said Capitola meeting her. 
 " Oh, child, he's in his terrible tantrums again ! He 
 
ANOTHER STOEM AT HURRICANE HALL. 153 
 
 gets into these ways every once in a while, when a young 
 calf perishes, or a sheep is stolen, or anything goes amiss, 
 and then he abuses us all for a pack of loiterers, sluggards 
 and thieves, and pays us off and orders us off. We don^t 
 go, of course, because we know he doesn^t mean it ; still it 
 is very trying to be talked to so. Oh ! I should go, but. 
 Lord, child ! he^s a bear, but we love him.^^ 
 
 Just as she spoke the study door opened, and Bill Ezy 
 came out sobbing, and Wool lifting up his voice and fairly 
 roaring. 
 
 Mrs. Condiment stepped out of the parlor door. 
 What's the matter, you blockhead she asked of 
 Wool. 
 
 Oh ! Boo-hoo-woo ! Ole Marse been and done and 
 gone and guv me a line to find an — an — another — Boo-hoo- 
 woo V sobbed Wool, ready to break his heart. 
 
 " Give you a line to find another Boo-hoo-woo ! I 
 wouldn't do it if I were you. Wool I" said Capitola. 
 
 *'Give me the paper, Wool,'' said Mrs. Condiment, tak- 
 ing the permit" and tearing it up, and adding : 
 
 There ! now you go home to your quarter, and keep 
 out of your old master's sight until he gets over his anger, 
 and then you know very well that it will be all right. 
 There ! go along with you." 
 
 Wool quickly got out of the way, and made room for the 
 overseer, who was snivelling like a whipped school-boy, and 
 to whom the housekeeper said : 
 
 "I thought you were wiser than to take this so to heart, 
 Mr. Ezy !" 
 
 Oh, mum ! what could you expect ? — an old sarvint 
 as has sarved the major faithful these forty years, to be dis- 
 charged at sixty-five ! Oh ! hoo-ooo-oo /" whimpered the 
 overseer. 
 
 " But then you have been discharged so often, you ought 
 to be used to it by this time ! you get discharged just as 
 Wool gets sold — about once a month ! but do you ever go ?" 
 
154 
 
 ANOTHER STOEM AT nUREICANE HALL. 
 
 " Oh^ mum ! but he's in aimest this time ! \leed he is, 
 mum ! teriHUe in airnest ! and all about that misfortKet 
 bob-tail colt getting stole ! I know how it wur some of 
 Black Donald's gang as done it ! As if I could always be on 
 my guard against tliey devils ! And he mmns it this time, 
 mum ! He's terrible in airnest 
 
 " Tut ! he's alioays in earnest for as long as it lasts ! Go 
 home to your family and to-morrow go about your business, 
 as usual." 
 
 Here tlie study bell rang violently and Old Hurricane's 
 voice was heard calling — '^^Mrs. Condiment! Mrs. Condi- 
 ment !" 
 
 "Oh, lor! he's coming!" cried Bill Ezy, running off 
 as fast as age and grief would let him. 
 
 " Mrs. Condiment ! Mrs. Condiment !" called the voice. 
 
 " Yes, sir ! yes !" answered the housekeeper, hurrying to 
 obey the call. 
 
 Capitola walked up and down the hall for half an hour, 
 at the end of which Mrs. Condiment came out with a 
 Rmile on her lip and a tear in her eye," and saying : 
 
 Well, Miss Capitola, I'm paid off and discharged also !" 
 
 "What for ?" 
 
 "Tor aiding and abetting the rebels ! in a word, for try- 
 ing to comfort poor Ezy and Wool." 
 "And are you going ?" 
 
 " Certainly not ! I sha'n't budge ! I would not treat 
 the old man so badly as to take him at his word !" and, 
 with a strange smile, Mrs. Condiment hurried away just in 
 time to escape Old Hurricane, who came raving out of the 
 study. 
 
 " Get out of my way, you beggar I" he cried, pushing 
 past Capitola, and hurrying from the house. 
 
 " Well, I declare, that luas pleasant !" thought Cap, as 
 she entered the parlor. 
 
 " Mrs. Condiment, what will he say when he comes back 
 and finds you all here still ?" she asked. 
 
ASroTHBB STOBM AT HUBEIOANE HALL. 155 
 
 Say ? — nothing. After this passion is over, he will be 
 so exhausted that he will not be able to get up another rage 
 in two or three days/^ 
 Where has he gone 
 
 " To Tip-Top ; and alone, too ; he was so mad with poor 
 Wool that ho wouldn't even permit him to attend." 
 
 Alone ? has he gone alone ! Oh, wo7iH I give Mm a 
 dose ivlien lie comes lach thought Capitola. 
 
 Meanwhile Old Hurricane stormed along towards Tip- 
 Top, lashing off the poor dogs that wished to follow him, 
 and cutting at every living thing that crossed his path. 
 His business at the village was to get bills printed and posted, 
 offering an additional reward for the apprehension of '''the 
 marauding outlaw Black Donald." That day, he dined at 
 the village tavern — The Antlers," by Mr. Merry — and 
 differed, disputed, or quarrelled, as the case might be, with 
 every man whom he happened to come in contact with. 
 
 Towards evening he set off for home. It was much later 
 than his usual hour of returning; but he felt weary, ex- 
 hausted, ;ind indisposed to come into his own dwelling 
 where his furious temper had created so much unhappiness. 
 Thus, though it was very late, he did not hurry ; he 
 almost hoped that every one might be in bed when he should 
 return. The moon , was shining briglitly w^hen he passed 
 the gate and rode up the evergreen avenue to the horse- 
 block in front of the house. There he dismounted and 
 walked up into the piazza, where a novel vision met his sur- 
 prised gaze. 
 
 It was Capitola, walking up and down the floor, w^itli 
 rapid, almost masculine strides, and apparently in a state 
 of great excitement. 
 
 ''*0h, is it you, my little Cap ? Good evening, my dca'-," 
 he said, very kindly. 
 
 Capitola pulled up" in her striding walk, wheeled 
 around, faced him, drew up her form, folded her arms, 
 threw back her head, set her teeth, and glared at him. 
 
156 ANOTHER STORM AT HURRICANE HALL. 
 
 ''What the demon do you me^mhy fJiatf cried Old 
 Hurricane. 
 
 ''Sir V she exclaimed, bringing down one foot with a 
 sharp stamp — '' Sir, how dare you have the impudence to 
 face me, much less the — the — the— the brass ! the bronze ! 
 the COPPER ! to speak to me 
 
 " Why, what in the name of all the lunatics in Bedlam 
 dees the girl mean ? Is she crazy exclaimed the old 
 man, gazing upon her in astonishment. 
 
 Capitola turned and strode furiously up and down the 
 piazza, and then, stopping suddenly and facing him, with 
 a sharp stamp of her foot, exclaimed : 
 
 " Old GENTLEMAN, tell me instantly, and without pre- 
 Yarication, where have you been V* 
 
 " To the demon with you ! what do you mean ? have 
 you taken leave of your senses demanded Old Hurricane. 
 
 Capitola strode up and down the floor a few times, and 
 stopping short and shaking her fist, exclaimed : 
 
 "Didn't you know, you headstrong, reckless, desper- 
 ate, frantic veteran ! didn't you know the jeopardy in which 
 you placed yourself by riding out alone at this hour ? 
 Suppose three or four great runaway negresses had sprung 
 out of the bushes — and — and — " 
 
 She broke off, apparently for want of breath, and strode 
 up and down the floor ; then, pausing suddenly before him, 
 with a stern stamp of her foot and a fierce glare of her eye, 
 she continued : 
 
 " You shouldn't have come back here any 'more ! No 
 •dishonored old man should have entered the house of which 
 / call myself the mistress V 
 
 " Oh, I take ! T take ! ha ! ha ! ha ! Good, Cap, good ! 
 You are holding up the glass before me ; but your mirror 
 is not quite large enough to reflect ' Old Hurricane,' my 
 ^ear — ' / owe you one,' " said the old man, as he passed 
 into the house, followed by his capricious favorite. 
 
THE doctor's DAUGHtfiB. 
 
 157 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE doctor's daughter, 
 
 " Oh, her smile, it seemed half holy, 
 As if drawn from thoughts more far, 
 Than our common jestings are. 
 And if any painter drew her, 
 He would paint her unaware 
 With a halo round her hair." — E. B. Bbowning. 
 
 Ok the appointed day, Traverse took his way to Willow 
 Heights, to keep his tryst and enter upon the medical 
 studies in the good doctor's office. He was anxious also to 
 know if his patron had as yet thought of any plan by which 
 his mother might better her condition. He was met at the 
 door by little Mattie, the parlor maid, who told him to walk 
 right up stairs into the study, where his master was expect- 
 ing him. 
 
 Traverse went up quietly and opened the door of that 
 pleasant study-room, to which the reader has already been 
 introduced, and the windows of which opened upon the 
 upper front piazza. 
 
 Now, however, as it was quite cold, the windows were 
 down, though the blinds were open, and through them 
 streamed the golden rays of the morning sun that fell glis- 
 tening upon the fairy hair and white raiment of a young 
 girl, who sat reading before the fire. 
 
 The doctor was not in the room, and Traverse in his 
 native modesty was jnst about to retreat, when the young 
 creature looked up from her book, and seeing him, arose 
 with a smile, and came forward, saying : 
 
 " You are the young man whom my father was expect- 
 
15S 
 
 ing, I presume. Sit down^ lie has stepped out, but will be 
 in again very soon/^ 
 
 Now, Traverse being unaccustomed to the society of 
 young ladies, felt excessively bashful when suddenly com- 
 ing into the prcseuce of this refined and lovely girl. With 
 a low bow and a deep blush he took the chair she placed 
 for him. 
 
 With natural politeness, she closed her book and 
 addressed herself to entertaining him. 
 
 " L have heard that your mother is an invalid, T hope 
 she is better ?" 
 
 I thank you — yes, ma^am — Miss," stammered Trav- 
 erse, in painful embarrassment. Understanding the 
 timidity of the bashful boy, and seeing that her efforts to 
 entertain only troubled him, she placed the newspapers on 
 the table before him, saying : 
 
 Here are the morning journals if you would like to 
 look over them, Mr. Eocke/' and tlien she resumed her 
 book. 
 
 " I thank you, Miss," replied the youth, taking up a 
 paper, more for the purpose of covering his embarrassment, 
 than for any other. 
 
 Mr. Eocke ! Traverse was seventeen years of age, and 
 had never been called Mr. Eocke before I This young girl 
 was the very first to compliment him with tlie manly title, 
 and he felt a boyish gratitude to her and a harmless wish 
 that his well-brushed Sunday suit of black was not quiie so 
 rusty and threadbare, tempered by an innocent exultation 
 in the thought that no gentleman in the land could exhibit 
 fresher linen, brighter shoes or cleaner hands than him- 
 self. 
 
 But not many seconds were spent in such egotism. He 
 stole a glance at his lovely companion sitting- on the oppo- 
 site side of the fire-side — he w^as glad to sec that she was 
 already deeply engaged in reading, for it enabled him to 
 observe her, without embarrassment or offence. He had 
 
THE DOCTOR'S DAUGHTEPw. 
 
 159 
 
 scarcely dared to luok at lier bef-^'re^. and had no distinct 
 idea of lier beauty. 
 
 There had been for Mdi only a vague, dazzling vision of 
 a golden-liaired girl in floating wliite rainiint, wafting the 
 fragrance of violets as she moved, and vd^h a voice sveerir 
 than the notes of the cushat dove as she spoke. 
 
 Xo'v he saw that the golden hair flowed in ringlets 
 around a fair, i': seate face, soft and bright with feeling and 
 intelligence. As her dark blue eyes followed the page, a 
 smile intense with meaning dcejKned the expression of her 
 countenance. That intense smile I — it was like her f:'ther"s, 
 only lovelier — more heavenly. That inren-e smile I It had, 
 even on the old doctor's face, an inexpressible charm for 
 Traverse — but on the lovely young face of his daughter it 
 exercised an ineffable fascination. So earnest and so uncon- 
 scious became the gaze of poor Traverse that he was only 
 brought to a sense of propriety by the opening of the door, 
 and the entrance of the doctor, who exclaimed : 
 
 Ah I here already. Traverse I that is punctual I — This 
 is my daughter Clara, Traverse I Clara, t]::s is Travel se, 
 ■you've heard me speak about I — But, I dare say. youVe 
 already become acquainted,"' concluded the doet'jr, draw- 
 ing his chair up to the reading-table, sitting down and fold- 
 insf his dressina"-2:own around his limbs. 
 
 T\'ell, Traverse, how is the little mother he pres- 
 ently inquired. 
 
 ^^I was just telling iMiss Day, that she was much better 
 sir,*' said Traverse. 
 
 ''Ah, ha I ah, ha 1" muttered the doctor to himself — 
 ''that's kitchen physic — roast turkey and port wine I and 
 moral medicine, hope I and mental medicine, sympathy.*' 
 
 " Well, Traverse," he said aloud, " I have been racking 
 my brain for a plan for your mother — and to no i^urpose I 
 Traverse, your mother should be in a home of peace, piaity 
 and cheerfulness I — I can speak before my little Clara here I 
 I never have any secrets from her — Your mother wants good 
 
160 
 
 THE doctor's daughter. 
 
 living, cheerful company, and freedom from toil and care I 
 The situation of gentleman's or lady's housekeeper in some 
 home of abundance, where she would be esteemed as a 
 member of the family would suit her ; but where to find 
 such a place ! I have been inquiring — without mentioning 
 her name, of course — among all my friends, but not one of 
 them wants a housekeeper, or knows a soul who does want 
 one, and so I am 'at sea on the subject.' I'm ashamed of 
 myself for not succeeding better !" 
 
 " Oh, sir, do not do yourself so great injustice," said 
 Traverse. 
 
 " Well, the fact is after boasting so confidently that I 
 would find a good situation for Mrs. Eocke, lo and behold ! 
 I have proved myself as yet only a boaster !" 
 
 " Father," said Clara, turning upon him her sweet eyes. 
 
 "Well, my love ?" 
 
 " Perhaps Mrs. Rocke would do us the favor to come 
 here and take charge of our household." 
 
 " Eh ! what ! I never thought of that ! I never had a 
 housekeeper in my life !" exclaimed the doctor. 
 
 " No, sir, because you never needed one before, but now 
 we really do. Aunt Moggy has been a very faithful and 
 efficient manager, although she is a colored woman ; but 
 she is getting very old." 
 
 Yes, and deaf, and blind, and careless ! I know she 
 is ! I have no doubt in the world she scours the coppers 
 with the table napkins, and washes her face and hands in 
 the soup tureen." 
 
 ''Oh father r said Clara. 
 
 " Well, Clara, at least she wants looking after." 
 
 ^'Father, she wants rest in her old age." 
 
 ''No doubt of it ! no doubt of it !" 
 
 "And, father, I intend, of course, in time, to be your 
 housekeeper ; but having spent all my life at a boarding- 
 school, I know very little about domestic affairs, and I 
 j*e(}uire a great deal of instruction ; so I really do think that 
 
THE doctor's daughter. 
 
 161 
 
 there is no one needs Mrs. Rockets assistance more than we 
 do, and if she will do us the favor to come, we cannot do 
 better than engage her/^ 
 
 *'To be sure ! to be sure ! Lord bless my soul ! to 
 think it should never have entered my stupid old head, 
 until it was put there by Clare ! Here was 1 searching 
 blindly all over the country for a situation for Mrs. Rocke, 
 and wanting her all the time more than any one else ! 
 That's the way, Traverse, that^s the way with us all, my 
 boy I While we are looking away off yonder for the solution 
 of our difQculties, the remedy is all the time lying just 
 under our noses 
 
 But so close to our eyes, father, that we cannot see 
 it V said Clara. 
 
 Just so, Clare ! just so I You are always ahead of me 
 in ideas ! Now, Traverse, when you go home this evening 
 you shall take a note to your mother, setting forth our 
 wishes — mine and Clara's ; if she accedes to them she will 
 make us very happy.'' 
 
 "With a great deal of manly strength of mind Traverse 
 had all his mother^s tenderness of heart. It was with diffi- 
 culty that he could keep back his tears or control his voice, 
 while he answered : 
 
 I remember reading, sir, that the young queen of Eng- 
 land when she came to her throne wished to provide hand- 
 somely for an orphan companion of her childhood ; and see- 
 ing that no office in her household suited the young person, 
 she created one for her benefit. Sir, I believe you have 
 made one for my mother.'^ 
 
 '* Not at all ! not at all ! If she doesn't come to look 
 after our housekeeping, old Moggy will be greasing our 
 griddles with tallow candle ends next ! If you don't 
 believe me, ask Clara ! ask Clara V 
 
 Not '^ielieve'' him I If the doctor had affirmed that 
 the moon was made of moldy cheese. Traverse would hay© 
 deemed it his duty to stoutly maintain that astronomical 
 
162 
 
 THE DOOTOB's DAUGHTBB. 
 
 tlieory. He felt hurt that the doctor should use such a 
 phrase. 
 
 Yes, indeed, we really cZo need her, Traverse," said the 
 doctor's daughter. 
 
 Traverse I " It had made him proud to hear her call 
 him, for the first time in his life, Mr. Kocke,'' but it 
 made him deeply happy to hear her call him ''^ Traverse."' 
 It had such a sisterly sound coming from this sweet crea- 
 ture. How he wished that she really ivere his sister ! but then 
 the idea of that fair, golden-haired, blae-eyed, white-robed 
 angel being the sister of such a robust, rugged, sun-burned 
 boy as himself ! The thought was so absurd, extravagant, 
 impossible, that the poor boy heaved an unconscious sigh. 
 
 " Why, what's the matter, Traverse ? What are you 
 thinking of so intently ?" 
 
 Of your great goodness, sir, among otlier things." 
 
 Tut I let's hear no more of that. I please myself," 
 said the doctor ; and now. Traverse, let's go to work 
 decently and in order ; but first let me settle this point : if 
 your good little mother determines in our favor. Traverse, 
 then of course yoio will live with us also, so I shall have my 
 young medical assistant always at hand. That will be very 
 convenient ; and then we shall have no more long, lonesome 
 evenings, Clara, shall we, dear ? And now. Traverse, I 
 will mark out your course of study, and set you to work at 
 once." 
 
 Shall I leave the room, father ?" inquired Clara. 
 
 No, no, my dear ; certainly not. I have not had you 
 home so long as to get tired of the sight of you yet. No, 
 Clare, no ; you are not in our way — is she. Traverse ?" 
 
 Ob, sir, the idea — " stammered Traverse, blushing 
 deeply to be so appealed to. 
 
 In h is ivay ! why a pang had shot through his bosom at 
 the very mention of her going. 
 
 Very well, then ; here. Traverse — here are your books ; 
 you are to begin with this one ; keep this Medical Die- 
 
THE doctor's daughter. 
 
 163 
 
 tionary at hand for reference. Bless me ! it will bring back 
 my own student days to go over the ground with yon, my 
 boy/^ 
 
 Clara took her work-box and sat down to stitch a pair of 
 dainty wristbands for her father's shirts. 
 
 The doctor took up the morning papers. 
 
 Traverse opened his book and commenced his readings. 
 It was a quiet but by no means a dull circle. Occasionally 
 Clara and her father exchanged words, and once in a while 
 the doctor looked over his pupil's shoulder, or gave him a 
 direction. 
 
 Traverse studied con amove and with intelligent appre- 
 ciation. The presence of the doctor's lovely daughter, far 
 from disturbing him, calmed and steadied his soul into a 
 state of infinite content. If the presence of the beautiful 
 girl was ever to become an agitating element, the hour had 
 not yet come. 
 
 So passed the time until the dinner-bell rang. 
 
 By the express stipulation of the doctor himself, it was 
 arranged that Traverse should always dine with his family. 
 After dinner an hour, which the doctor called a digestive 
 hour, was spent in loitering about, and then the studies 
 were resumed. 
 
 At six o'clock in the evening Traverse took leave of the 
 doctor and his fair daughter and started for home. 
 
 Be sure to persuade your mother to come. Traverse," 
 said Clara. 
 
 She will not need persuasion ; she will be only too 
 glad to come, Miss," said Traverse, with a deep bow, turn- 
 ing and hurrying away towards home. With winged 
 feet " he ran down the wooded hill and got into the high- 
 way and hastened on with such speed that in half an hour 
 he reached his mother's little cottage. He was all agog 
 with joy and eagerness to tell her the good news. 
 
164 
 
 THE RESIGNEB 60UL. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE RESIGNED SOUL. 
 
 ! 
 
 ' « This day be bread and peace my lot ; 
 
 All else beneath the sun 
 1 Thou knowest if best bestowed or not, 
 
 And let thy will be done. — Pope, 
 
 Poor Marah Eocke had schooled her soul to resigna- 
 tion ; had taught herself just to do the duty of each day 
 as it came, and leave the future — where indeed it must 
 always remain — in the hands of God. Since the doctor's 
 delicate and judicious kindness had cherished her life, 
 some little health and cheerfulness had returned to her. 
 
 Upon this particular evening of the day upon which 
 Traverse entered upon his medical studies, she felt very 
 hopeful. 
 
 The little cottage fire burned brightly ; the hearth was 
 swept clean ; the tea-kettle was singing over the blaze ; 
 the tiny tea-table, with its two cups and saucers, and two 
 plates and knives, was set ; everything was neat, comfort- 
 able and cheerful for Traverse's return. Marah sat in her 
 little low chair, putting the finishing touches to a set of 
 fine shirts. 
 
 She was not anxiously looking for her son ; for he had 
 told her that he should stay at the doctor's until six 
 o'clock ; therefore she did not expect him until seven. 
 
 But so fast had Traverse walked that just as the minute 
 hand pointed to half-past six, the latch was raised and 
 Traverse ran in — his face flushed with joy. 
 
 The first thing he did was to run to his mother, fling 
 his arms around her neck, and kiss her. Then he threw 
 himself into his chair to take breath. 
 
THE RESIGNED SOUL. 
 
 165 
 
 Now, then, what's the matter. Traverse ? You look 
 as if somebody had left you a fortune/' I 
 
 And so they have, or as good as done so \" exclaimed 
 Traverse, panting for breath. 
 
 "What in the world do you mean?" exclaimed Marah, 
 her thoughts naturally flying to Old Hurricane, and sug- 
 gesting his possible repentance or relenting. 
 
 Read that, mother, read that \" said Traverse, eagerly 
 putting a note in her hand. 
 She opened it, and read : 
 
 Willow Heights — Monday. 
 Dear Madam : — My little daughter Clara, fourteen 
 years of age, has just returned from boarding-school to 
 pursue her studies at • home. Among other things, she 
 must learn domestic affairs, of which she knows nothing. 
 If you will accept the position of housekeeper and matronly 
 companion of my daughter, I will make the terms such as 
 ghall reconcile you to the change. We shall also do all that 
 we can to make you happy. Traverse will explain to you 
 the details. Take time to think of it, but if possible let us 
 have your answer by Traverse, when he comes to>morrow. 
 If you accede to this proposition you will give my daughter 
 acd myself sincere satisfaction. Yours truly, 
 
 William Day. 
 
 Marah finished reading, and raised her eyes, full of 
 amazement, to the face of her son. 
 
 " Mother \" said Traverse, speaking fast and eagerly, 
 *^ they say they really cannot do without you. They have 
 troops of servants, but the old cook is in her dotage and 
 does all sorts of strange things — such as frying buckwheat 
 cakes in lamp-oil and the like.'' 
 
 " Oh, hush ! what exaggeration !" 
 
 " Well, I don't sspy she does that exactly, but she isn't 
 
166 
 
 THE RESIGNED SOTJL. 
 
 equal to lier situation, without a housekeeper to look after 
 her ; and they want you very much indeed/^ 
 
 And what is to become of your home, if I break up 
 suggested the mother. 
 
 Oh, that is the very best of it ! The doctor says if yon 
 consent to come, that I must also live there, and that then 
 he can have his medical assistant always at hand, which 
 will be very convenient/^ 
 
 Marah smiled dubiously. 
 I do not understand it ; but one thing I do know, 
 Traverse : there is not such a man as the doctor appears in 
 this world more than once in a hundred years. ^' 
 
 Not in a thousand years, mother ! and as for his 
 daughter — oh, you should see Miss Clara, mother ! Her 
 father calls her Clare — Clare Day — how the name suits her ! 
 She is so fair and bright ! with such a warm, thoughtful, 
 sunny smile that goes right to your heart ! Her face is in- 
 deed like a clear day, and her beautiful smile is the sun- 
 shine that lights it up V' said the enthusiastic youth, whose 
 admiration was as yet too simjole and single-hearted and 
 unselfish to tie his tongue. 
 
 The mother smiled at his earnestness — smiled without 
 the least misgiving ; for to her apprehension the youth was 
 still a boy, to wonder at and admire beauty without being 
 in the least danger of having his peace of mind disturbed 
 by love. And as yet her idea of him was just. 
 
 " And mother, of course you will go," said Traverse. 
 
 " Oh, I do not know. The proposition was so sudden 
 and unexpected, and is so serious and important that I 
 must take time to reflect,'^ said Mrs. Eocke, thought- 
 fully. 
 
 How much time, mother ? Will until to-morrow 
 morning do ? It must, little mother, because I promised 
 to carry your consent back with me. Indeed I did mother V 
 exclaimed the impatient boy. 
 
THE EE8IGNBD SOUL. 
 
 167 
 
 Mrs. Eocke dropped her head upon her hand, as vrns 
 her custom when in deep thought. Presently she said : 
 
 ^^Travv, I'm afraid this is not a genuine offer of a situ- 
 ation of housekeeper. Tm afraid that it is only a ruse to 
 cover a scheme of beuevolence, and that they don^t really 
 want me, and I should only be in their way." 
 
 Xow, mother, I do assure you, they do want you ! 
 Think of that young girl and elderly gentleman — can either 
 of tJiem take charge of a large establishment like that of 
 Willow Heights 
 
 AVell argued, Traverse ; but granting that they need a 
 housekeeper, how do I know / would suit them ?" 
 
 Why you may take their own words for that, 
 mother." 
 
 But how can tJiei/ know ? I am afraid they would be 
 disappointed. 
 
 ^' Wait until they complain, mother.''' 
 
 ^^I don't believe they ever would/' 
 
 "1 don't believe they ever would have cause/' 
 
 Well, granting also that I should suit them " 
 
 The mother paused and sighed. Traverse filled up the 
 blank by saying : 
 
 I suppose you mean if you slioidd suit them, tliey 
 might not suit jow.'' 
 
 Xo, I do not mean that ! I am sure they would suit 
 me I but there is one in the world, who may one day come 
 to reason and take bitter umbrage at the fact that 1 should 
 accept a subordinate situation in any household," mur- 
 mured ]\Irs. lioeke, almost unconsciously. 
 
 " Then that ' one in the world, whoever he, she, or it 
 may be, had better place you above the necessity, or else 
 hold his, her, or its tongue I — Mother, / think that goods 
 throvm in our way by Providence had better be accepted, 
 leaving the consequences to Him I" 
 
 Traverse, dear, I shall pray over this matter to-night, 
 and sleep on it ; and He to whom, even the fall of a sparrow 
 
168 
 
 THE RESIGNED SOUL. 
 
 is not indifferent will guide me/' said Mrs. Kocke ; and 
 
 here the debate ended. 
 
 The remainder of the evening was spent in laudation of 
 Clara Day, and in writing a letter to Herbert Greyson, at 
 West Point, in which all these laudations were reiterated, 
 and in the course of which Traverse wrote these innocent 
 words — I have known Clara Day scarcely twelve hours, 
 and I admire her as much as I love you ! and oh, Herbert ! 
 if you could only rise to be a major-general and marry 
 Clara- Day, I should be the happiest fellow alive \" Would 
 Traverse as willingly dispose of Clara^s hand a year or two 
 after this time ? I trow not ! 
 
 The next morning after breakfast . Mrs. Rocke gave in 
 her decision. 
 
 Tell the doctor, Traverse,^' she said, that I under- 
 stand and appreciate his kindness ; that I will not break up 
 my humble home as yet ; but I will lock up my house and 
 come a month on trial ; if I can perform the duties of the 
 situation satisfactorily, well and good ! I will remain ; if 
 not, why then, having my home still in possession, I can 
 return to it" 
 
 Wise little mother ! she will not cut down the bridge 
 behind her exclaimed Traverse, joyfully, as he bade his 
 mother good-bye for the day, and hastened up to Willow 
 Heights with her answer. This answer was received by 
 the good doctor and his lovely daughter with delight as 
 unfeigned as it was unselfish. They were pleased to have 
 a good housekeeper ; but they were far better pleased to 
 offer a poor struggling mother a comfortable and even lux- 
 urious home. 
 
 On the next Monday morning, Mrs. Rocke having com- 
 pleted all her arrangements, and closed up her house, entered 
 upon the duties of her new situation. 
 
 Clara gave her a large and airy bed-chamber for her own 
 use, communicating with a smaller one for the use of her 
 
THE RESIGNED SOUL. 
 
 169 
 
 «on ; besides this^, as housekeeper, slie had of course the 
 freedom of the whole house. 
 
 Traverse watched with anxious vigilance to find out 
 whether the efforts of his mother really improved the con- 
 dition of the housekeeping, and was delighted to find that 
 the coffee was clearer and finer flavored ; the bread whiter 
 and lighter ; the cream richer, the butter fresher, and the 
 beefsteak jucier than he had ever known them to be on the 
 doctor's table ; that on the dinner-table, from day to day, 
 dishes succeeded each other in a well-ordered variety and 
 well-dressed style — in a word, that in every particular, the 
 comfort of the family was greatly enhanced by the presence 
 of the housekeeper, and that the doctor and his daughter 
 knew it. 
 
 While the Doctor and the student were engaged in the 
 library, Clara spent many hours of the morning in Mrs. 
 Rocke's company learning the arts of domestic economy and 
 considerably assisting her in the preparation of delicate 
 dishes. 
 
 In the evening the doctor, Clara, Mrs. Rocke, and 
 Traverse gathered around the fire as one family — Mrs. Rocke 
 and Clara engaged in needlework, and the doctor or 
 Traverse in reading aloud, for their amusement, some agree- 
 able book. Sometimes Clara would richly entertain them 
 with music — singing and accompanying herself upon the 
 piano. 
 
 An hour before bedtime the servants were always called 
 in, and general family prayer offered up. 
 
 Thus passed the quiet, pleasant, profitable days. 
 Traverse was fast falling int@ a delicious dream, from which, 
 as yet, no rude shock threatened to wake him. Willow 
 Heights seemed to him Paradise, its inmates angels, and his 
 own life — beatitnda I 
 
170 
 
 THE outlaw's RBNDEZVOUB. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE outlaw's rendezvous. 
 
 " Our plots fall short like darts which rash hands throw 
 With an ill aim, and have too far to go ; 
 Nor can we long discoveries prevent ; 
 God is too much about the innocent ! 
 
 — Sir Robert Howard. 
 
 The Old Road Inn/' described in the dying deposition 
 of poor Nancy Grewell, was situated some miles from Hurri- 
 cane Hall, by the side of a forsaken turnpike in the midst 
 of a thickly wooded, long and narrow valley, shut in by two 
 lofty ranges of mountains. 
 
 Once this turnpike was lively with travel, and this inn 
 gay with custom ; but, for the last twenty-five years, since 
 the highway had been turned off in another direction, both 
 road and tavern had been abandoned, and suffered to fall to 
 ruin. The road was washed and furrowed into deep and 
 dangerous gullies, and obstructed by fallen timber ; the 
 house was disfigured by mouldering walls, broken chimneys 
 and patched windows. 
 
 Had any traveler lost himself, and chanced to have passed 
 that way, he might have seen a little, old, dried-up woman, 
 sitting knitting at one of the windoAvs. She was known by 
 those who were old enough to remember her and her home, 
 as Granny Raven, the daughter of the last proprietor of the 
 inn. She was reputed to be dumb, but none could speak 
 with certainty of the fact. In truth, for as far back as the 
 memory of the '^oldest inhabitant " could reach, she had 
 been feared, disliked and avoided, as one of malign reputa- 
 tion ; indeed, the ignorant and superstitious believed her to 
 possess the " evil eye/' and to be gifted with " second sight.'' 
 
THE OUTLAW'S EEXDEZVOUS. 
 
 171 
 
 But of late years as tlie old road and the old inn were 
 quite forsaken_, so the old beldame was quite forgotten. 
 
 It was one evening, a few weeks after Capitola's fearful 
 adventure in the forest, that this old woman careftilly closed 
 ii-p every door and window in the front of the house, stopping 
 every crevice through which a ray of light might gleam and 
 warn that impossible phenomenon — a chance traveler, on 
 the old road, of life within the habitation. 
 
 Having, so to speak, hermetically sealed the front of the 
 house, she betook herself to a large back kitchen. 
 
 This kitchen was strangely ar.d rudely furnished — hav- 
 ing an extra broad fire-place with the recesses on each side 
 of the chimney filled with oaken shelves, laden with strong 
 pew tor plates, dishes and mugs : all along the walls were 
 arranged rude, oaken benches ; down the length of the 
 room, was left, always standing, a long deal table, cajoable 
 of accommodating from fifteen to twenty guests. 
 
 On entering tliis kitchen Granny Eaven struck a light, 
 kindled a fire, and began to prepare a large supper. 
 
 Xor did this old beldame lookun like the ill-omened bird 
 whose name she bore, in her close clinging black gown, and 
 flapping black cape and hood, and Avith her sharp eyes^ 
 hooked nose and i^rotruding chin. 
 
 Having put a large sirloin of beef before the fire, she 
 took down a pile of pewter plates and arranged them along 
 on the sides of the table ; then to evi-ry ph;te she placed a 
 pcwtur mug. A huge wheaten loaf of bread, a great roll 
 of butter and several plates of pickles were next put upon 
 the board, and when all was ready the old woman sat down 
 to the patient turning of the spit. 
 
 She had not becPi thus occupied more then twenty min- 
 utes when a hasty, scutiling step was heard at the back of 
 the house, accompanied by a peculiar wdiistle_, immediately 
 under the window. 
 
 Tnat"s Headlong Hal,^ for a penny I He never can 
 
l'^2 THE orALAW's EENDEZVOUg. 
 
 learn the cat's tread I" thought the crone, as she arose and 
 withdrew the bolt of the back door. 
 
 A little, dark-skinned, black-eyed, black-haired, thin 
 and wiry man came hurrying in, exclaiming : 
 How now, old girl — supper ready ?" 
 
 She shook her head, pointed to the roasting beef, lifted 
 up both hands with the ten fingers spread out twice, and 
 then made a rotary motion with one arm. 
 
 Oh — you mean it will be done in twenty turns ; but 
 hang me if I understand your dumb show half the time. — 
 Have none of the men come yet V 
 
 She put her fingers together, flung her hands wildly 
 apart in all directions, brought them slowly together again, 
 and pointed to the supper table. 
 
 " Um ! — that is to say they are dispersed about their 
 business, but will all be here to-night?*^ 
 
 She nodded. 
 Where's the cap'n 
 
 She pointed over her left shoulder upwards — placed her 
 two hands out broad from her temples — then made a motion 
 as of lifting and carry iug a basket, and displaying goods. 
 
 Humph ! humph ! gone to Tip-Top to sell goods dis- 
 guised as a peddler I" 
 
 She nodded. And before he could put another question, 
 a low, soft 77ieiv was heard at the door. 
 
 There's ^ Stealthy Stere '/ — he might walk with hob- 
 nailed high-lows over a gravelly road, and you would never 
 hear his footfall," said the man, as the door noiselessly 
 opened and shut, and a soft-footed, low-voiced, subtile look, 
 ing mulatto entered the kitchen, and gave good evening to 
 its occupants. 
 
 '^Ha ! Fm devilish glad you've come, Steve, for hang 
 me if I'm not tired to death trying to talk to this crone, who, 
 to the charms of old age and ugliness, adds that of dumb- 
 ness. Seen the cap'n ?" 
 
THE outlaw's rendezvous. 
 
 173 
 
 "No, he^s gone out to hear the people talk, and find out 
 what they think of him" 
 
 Hal burst into a loud and scornful laugh, saying—" I 
 should think it would not require much seeking to discover 
 that r 
 
 Here the old woman came forward, and, by signs, man- 
 aged to inquire whether he had brought her " the tea.* 
 
 Steve drew a packet from his pocket, saying, softly 
 
 "Yes, mother, when I was in Spicer's store I saw this 
 lying with other things on the counter, and rememberiiSg 
 you, quietly put it into my pocket/^ 
 
 The old crone's eyes danced ; she seized the packet, 
 patted the excellent thief on the shoulder, wagged her head 
 deridingly at the delinquent one, and hobbled off to prepare 
 her favorite beverage. 
 
 While she was thus occupied the whistle was once more 
 heard at the door, followed by the entrance of a man 
 decidedly the most repulsive looking of the whole party — a 
 man one having a full pocket would scarcely like to meet 
 on a lonely road in a dark night. In form he was of Dutch 
 proportions, short but stout ; with a large, round head cov- 
 ered with stiff, sandy hair ; broad, flat face ; coarse fea- 
 tures ; pale, half -closed eyes, and an expression of counten- 
 ance strangely made up of elements as opposite as they 
 were forbidding — a mixture of stupidity and subtilty, cow- 
 ardice and ferocity, caution and cruelty. His name in the 
 gang was Demon Dick, a sobriquet of which he was emi- 
 nently deserving and characteristically proud. 
 
 He came in sulkily, neither saluting the company nor 
 returning their salutations. He pulled a chair to the fire, 
 threw himself into it, and ordered the old woman to draw 
 him a mug of ale. 
 
 " Dick's in a bad humor to-night,^' murmured Steve, 
 softly. 
 
 " When was he ever in a good on© roughly broke 
 forth Hal. 
 
174: 
 
 THE outlaw's rendezvous. 
 
 H — sh said Steve, glancing at Dick, who, with a 
 hideous expression, was listening to the conversation. 
 
 " There's the cap^n !" exclaimed Hal, as a ringing foot- 
 step sounded outside, followed by the abrupt opening of 
 the door and entrance of the leader. 
 
 Setting down a large basket, and throwing off a broad- 
 brimmed Quaker hat and broad-skirted overcoat, Black 
 Donald stood roaring with laughter. 
 
 Black Donald, from his great stature might have been 
 a giant walked out of the age of fable into the middle of 
 the nineteenth century. From his stature alone he might 
 have been chosen leader of this band of desperadoes. He 
 stood six feet eight inches in his boots, and was stout and 
 muscular in proportion. He had a well-formed, stately 
 head, fine aquiline features, dark complexion, strong, 
 steady, dark eyes, and an abundance of long, curling black 
 hair and beard that would have driven to despair a Broad- 
 way beau, broken the heart of a Washington belle, or made 
 his own fortune in any city of America as a French count 
 or a German baron! He had decidedly 'Hhe air noble 
 and distinguished/' 
 
 While he threw his broad brim in one direction and his 
 broad coat in another and gave way to peals of laughter, 
 Headlong Hal said : 
 
 Cap^n, I don^t know what you think of it ; but /think 
 it just as churlish to laugh alone as to get drunk in solitude." 
 
 ^' Oh, you shall laugh ! Wait until I tell you ! But 
 first, answer me : Does not my broad-skirted gray coat and 
 broad-brimmed gray hat make me look about twelve inches 
 shorter and broader 
 
 That's so, Cap'n I" 
 
 ''And when I bury my black beard and chin deep down 
 in this drab neckcloth, and pull the broad brim low over 
 my black hair and eyes, I look as mild and respectable as 
 William Penn.^' 
 
 " Yes, verily, friend Donald," said Hal.^ 
 
THE outlaw's rendezvous. 
 
 175 
 
 ''Well, in this meek guise I went peddling to-day/^ 
 
 Aye, Cap^n we knew it ; and you^ll go once too often. 
 "I have gone just once too often/^ 
 'a knew \V 
 ''We said so/' 
 
 " D n V' were some of the ejaculations as the mem- 
 bers of the band sprang to their feet and handled secret 
 arms. 
 
 " Pshaw ! put up your knives and pistols ! There is 
 no danger ; I was not traced ; our rendezvous is still a secret 
 for which the government would pay a thousand dollars V 
 
 "How, then, do you say that you went once too often, 
 Cap'n r 
 
 "It tuas accurate. I should have said that I had gone 
 for the last time, for that it would not be safe to venture 
 again. Come — I must tell you the whole story ; — but in the 
 meantime let us have supper. Mother Kaven, dish the beef. 
 Dick, draw the ale. Hal, cut the bread. Steve, carve. 
 Bestir yourselves, burn you ! or you shall have no story V' 
 exclaimed the captain, flinging himself into a chair at the 
 head of the table. 
 
 When his orders had been obeyed, and the men were 
 gathered around the table, and the first draught of ale had 
 been quaffed by all, Black Donald asked : 
 
 "Where do you think I went peddling to-day 
 
 "Devil knows, said Hal. 
 
 " That's a secret between the Demon and Black Donald,'' 
 said Dick. 
 
 " Hush ! he's about to tell us," murmured Steve. 
 
 "Wooden heads ! you'd never guess, I went — I went to 
 — Do you give it up ? I went right straight into the lion's 
 jaws — not only into the very clutches, but into the very 
 teeth, and down the very throat of the lion ! and have come 
 out as safe as Jonas from the whale's belly ! — in a word, I 
 have been up to the county seat where the court is now in 
 session, and sold cigar-cases, snuff-boxes and smoking caps 
 
176 
 
 THE outlaw's rendezvous. 
 
 to the grand and petit jury, and a pair of gold spectacles 
 to the learned judge himself ! ' 
 " No r 
 
 '^Noir 
 
 " No I 1 1 exclaimed Hal, Steve and Dick in a breath 
 Yes I and moreover, I offered a pair of patent steel 
 spring handcuffs to the sheriff, John Keepe, in person, and 
 pressed him to purchase them, assuring him that he would 
 have occasion for their use if ever he caught that grand 
 rascal, Black Donald !" 
 
 Ah ! the atrocious villain, if I thought I should ever 
 have the. satisfaction of springing them upon his wrists, I'd 
 buy them at my own proper cost !' said the sheriff, taking 
 them in his hands, and examining them curiously. 
 
 ' Ah ! he's a man of Belial, that same Black Donald ! 
 — thee'd better buy the handcuffs, John,' said I. 
 
 ' Nay, friend, I don't know ; and as for Black Donald, 
 we have some hopes of taking the wretch at last !' said the 
 simple gentleman. 
 
 " ' Ah, verily, John, that's a good hearing for peaceful 
 travelers like myself,' said I. 
 
 " ' Excellent ! excellent ! for when that fell marauder 
 
 once swings from a gallows ' 
 
 " ' His neck will be broken, John !' 
 'Yes, friend ; yes, probably; after which honest men 
 may travel in safety ! Ah ! never have I adjusted a hem- 
 pen cravat about the throat of any aspirant for such an 
 honor, with less pain than I shall officiate at the last toilet 
 of Black Donald !' 
 
 ' If thee catch him ?' 
 " ' Exactly friend, if I catch him ; but the additional 
 reward offered by Major Warfield, together with the report 
 that he often frequents our towns and villages in disguise, 
 will stimulate people to renewed efforts to discover and cap- 
 ture him,' said the sheriff. 
 
 " ' Ah I that will be a great day for Alleghany. And 
 
THE outlaw's RENDEZVOTJS. 
 
 177 
 
 when Black Donald is hanged, I shall make an effort to be 
 present at the solemnity myself T 
 
 " * Do friend/ said the sheriff, ' and I will see to get- 
 ting you a good place for witnessing the proceedings/ 
 
 ' I have no doubt thee will, John — a very good place I 
 and I assure thee, that there will not be one present more 
 interested in those proceedings than myself/ said I. 
 
 " ' Of course that is very natural ; for there is no one 
 more in danger from these marauders than men of your 
 itinerant calling. Good heavens ! it was but three 3^ears 
 ago a peddler was robbed and murdered in the woods around 
 the Hidden House/ 
 
 'Just so, John/ said I; 'and it^s my opinion that 
 often when Fve been traveling along the road at night 
 Black Donald hasn^t been far off! But tell me, John, so 
 that I may have a chance of earning that thousand dollars 
 — what disguises does this son of Moloch take V 
 
 ft i Why, friend, it is said that he appears as a Metho- 
 dist missionary, going about selling tracts ; and sometimes 
 as a knife-grinder, and sometimes simulates your calling as 
 a peddler r said the unsuspicious sheriff. 
 
 ''I thought, however, it was time to be off, so I said, 
 ' thee had better let me sell thee those handcuffs, John. 
 Allow me I I will show thee their beautiful machinery ! 
 Hold out thy wrists, if thee pleases, John.^ 
 
 '' The unsuspicious officer, with a face brimful of inter- 
 est, held out his wrists for experiment. 
 
 " I snapped the ornaments on them in a little less than 
 no time, and took up my pack and disappeared before the 
 sheriff had collected his faculties and found out his posi- 
 tion.^' 
 
 '' Ha, ha, ha ! haw, haw, haw ! ho, ho, ho laughed 
 the outlaws, in every key of laughter — '' and so our cap- 
 tain, instead of being pinioned by the sheriff, turned the 
 tables and actually manacled his honor I Hip, hip, hur- 
 
178 
 
 GABRIEL LE NOIB. 
 
 rah ! three times three for the merry captain, that mana- 
 cled the sheriff !" 
 
 ''Hush, burn you! there's some one coming!" ex- 
 claimed the captain, rising and listening. '* It is Le Koir, 
 who was to meet me here to-night on important busi- 
 ness.'* 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 GABRIEL LE NOIR. 
 
 Naught's had 1 all's spent ! 
 When our desires are gained without content." 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 ^'The colonel !" exclaimed the three men in a breath, 
 as the door opened and a tall, handsome and distinguished- 
 looking gentleman, wrapped in a black military coat, and 
 having his black beaver pulled low over his brow, strode 
 into the room. 
 
 All arose upon their feet to greet him as though he had 
 been a prince. 
 
 With a haughty wave of his hand, he bade them resume 
 their seats, and beckoning their leader, said : 
 
 " Donald, I would have a word with you." 
 
 '' At your command. Colonel," said the outlaw, rising 
 and taking a candle and leading the way into the adjoining 
 room, the same in which fourteen years before old Granny 
 Grewell and the child had been detained. 
 
 Setting the candle upon the mantelpiece. Black Donald 
 stood waiting for the visitor to open the conversation ; a 
 thing that the latter seemed in no hurry to do, for he began 
 walking up and down the room in stern silence. 
 
GABRIEL LE NOIE. 
 
 179 
 
 ^^You seem disturbed, Colonel/^ at length said tlie 
 oiulaw. 
 
 ^' L ain disturbed — more than disturbed ! I am suffer- 
 ing I^' 
 
 ''Suffering, Colonel P 
 
 '' Aye ! — suSering ! — from wbat, think you ? — the pangs 
 of remorse T 
 
 '' Remorse ! ha-ha-ha-ha-ha V' laughed the outlaw till 
 all the rafters rang. 
 
 '' Aye, man, you may laugh ! but I repeat that I am 
 tortured with remorse ! — and for what do you suppose ? — 
 for those acts of self-preservation that fanatics and fools 
 would stigmatize as crimes ? Iso, my good fellow ; but for 
 one ' unacted crime 
 
 I told your honor so !'■' cried the outlaw, triumphantly. 
 Donald, when I go to church, as I do constantly, I 
 hear the preacher prating of repentance ; but, man, I never 
 knew the meaning of the word until recently 1'' 
 
 And I can almost guess what it is that has enlightened 
 your honor said the outlaw. 
 
 " Yes ! it is that miserable old woman and babe ! 
 Donald, in every vein of my soul, I repent not having 
 silenced them both forever while they were yet in my 
 jDower I" 
 
 Just so. Colonel ; the dead never come back ; or, if 
 they do, are not recognized as property-holders in this 
 world ! I wish your honor had taken my advice, and sent 
 that woman and child on a longer journey." 
 
 Donald — I was younger then than now. I — shrank: 
 from Uoodshed," said the man, in a husky voice. 
 
 " Bah ! superstition. Bloodshed ! — blood is shed every 
 day ! ' We kill to live,' say the butchers. So do lue ! 
 Every creature preys upon some other creature weaker than 
 himself — the big beasts eat up the little ones ; artful men 
 live on the simple ; so be it ! the world was made for the 
 
180 
 
 GABRIEL LB NOIS. 
 
 strong and cunning; let the weak and foolish look to 
 themselves !" said the outlaw, with a loud laugh. 
 
 While he spoke, the visitor resumed his rapid, restless 
 striding up and down the room. Presently he came again 
 to tlie side of the robber, and whispered : 
 
 Donald, that girl has returned to the neighborhood, 
 brought back by old Warfield. My son met her in the 
 woods a month ago, fell into conversation with her — heard 
 her history, or as much of it as she herself knows. Her 
 name is Capitola ! she is the living image of her mother. 
 How she came under the notice of old Warfield— to what 
 extent he is acquainted with her birth and rights — what 
 proofs may be in his possession, I know not. All that I 
 have discovered, after the strictest inquiry that I was 
 enabled to make, is tliis : that the old beggar-woman that 
 died and was buried at Major Warfield's expense, was no 
 other than Nancy Grewell, returned — that the night before 
 she died she sent for Major Warfield, and had a long talk 
 with him, and that shortly afterwards the old scoundrel 
 traveled to the North and brought home this girl.^' 
 
 Humph ! it is an ugly business, your honor, especially 
 with your honor's little prejudice against " 
 
 Donald ! this is no time for weakness ! I have gone 
 too far to stop — Capitola must die." 
 
 That's so, Colonel ; the pity is that it wasn't found out 
 fourteen years ago. It is so much easier to pinch a baby's 
 nose until it falls asleep, than to stifle a young girl's shrieks 
 and cries ! Then the baby would not have been missed ; but 
 the young girl will be sure to be inquired after." 
 
 "I know that there will be additional risk ; but there 
 shall be the larger compensation, larger than your most san- 
 guine hopes would suggest. Donald, listen !" said the 
 colonel, stooping and whispering low — ''the day that you 
 bring me undeniable proof that Capit ola Le Noir is dead 
 you finger one thousand dollars !" 
 
 " Ha-ha-ha !" laughed the outlaw, in angiy scorn — 
 
GABRIEL LE NOIE. 
 
 181 
 
 ''Capitola Le Noir is the sole lieiress of a fortune — in land, 
 negroes, coal-mines, iron-foundries, railway shares and bank 
 stock, of half a million of dollars — and you ask me to get 
 her out of your way for a thousand dollars ! I'll do it ! you 
 know I will ! ha-ha-ha V 
 
 Why, the government doesn't value your whole carcass 
 at more than I offer you for the temporary use of your 
 hands, you villian V frowned the colonel. 
 
 ^'No ill names, your honor ! Between us they are like 
 kicking guns — apt to recoil V 
 
 You forget that you are in my power.'' 
 
 " I remember that your honor is in mine ! Ha-ha-ha ! 
 The day Black Donald stands at the bar, the honorable 
 Colonel Le Noir will probably be beside him." 
 
 '^Enough of this I Confound you, do you take me for 
 one of your pals ?" 
 
 No, your worship ! my pals are too poor to hire their 
 work done ; but then they are brave enough to do it them- 
 selyes." 
 
 Enough of this, I say! Name the price of this new 
 service !" 
 
 Ten thousand dollars — five thousand in advance — the 
 remainder when the deed is accomplished." 
 
 Extortioner ! — shameless, ruthless extortioner !" 
 
 Your honor will fall into that vulgar habit of calling 
 ill names ! — it isn't worth while ; it doesn't pay. If your 
 honor doesn't like my terms you needn't employ me ; what 
 is certain is, that I cannot work for less." 
 
 You take advantage of my necessities." 
 
 Not at all ; but the truth is, Colonel, that I am tired 
 of this sort of life, and wish to retire from active business. 
 Besides, every man has his ambition, and I have mine. I 
 wish to emigrate to the glorious West, settle, marry, turn 
 my attention to politics, be elected to Congress, then to 
 the Senate, then to the Cabinet, then to the White House ; 
 for success in which career, I flatter myself nature and edu- 
 
182 
 
 GABRIEL LE NOIR. 
 
 cation have especially fitted me. Ten thousand dollars will 
 give me a fair start. Many a successful politician, your 
 honor knows, has started on less character and less capi- 
 tal r 
 
 To this impudent slander the colonel made no answer ; 
 with his arms folded;, and his head bowed upon his chest, 
 he walked moodily up and down the length of the apart- 
 ment ; then muttering, Why should I hesitate he came 
 to the side of the outlaw, and said : 
 
 I agree to your terms ; accomplish the work, and the 
 sum shall be yours. Meet me here on to-morrow evening 
 to receive the earnest money. In the meantime, in order 
 to make sure of the girl's identity, it will be necessary for 
 you to get sight of her beforehand at her home, if possible ; 
 find out her habits and her haunts — where she walks, or 
 rides — when she is most likely to be alone, and so on. Be 
 very careful ! A mistake might be fatal. *^ 
 
 Your honor may trust me.''^ 
 
 And now good-bye ; remember, to-morrow evening, 
 said the colonel, as, wrapping himself closely in his dark 
 cloak, and pulling his hat low over his eyes, he passed out 
 by the back passage-door, and left the house. 
 
 ^' Ha ! ha-ha ! Why does that man think it needful to 
 looh so villainous ? If / were to go about in such a bandit- 
 like dress as that, every child I met would take me for — 
 what I am," laughed Black Donald, returning to his com- 
 rades. 
 
 During the next hour other members of the band drop- 
 ped in, until some twenty men were collected together in 
 the large kitchen around the long table, where the remain- 
 der of the night was spent in revelry. 
 
THE SMUGGLER AND OAPITOLA, 
 
 183 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE SMUGGLER AND CAPITOLA. 
 
 " Come buy of me ! come buy 1 come buy ! 
 Buy, lads, or else the lasses cry ; 
 I have lawns as white as snow ; 
 Silk as black as e'er was crow ; 
 Gloves as sweet as damask roses ; 
 Veils for faces ; musk for noses ; 
 Pins and needles made of steel ; 
 All you need from head to heel." — Shakespeare. 
 
 If I am not allowed to walk or ride out alone I shall 
 ' gang daft.'' I know I shall. Was ever such a dull, lone- 
 some, hum-drum place as this same Hurricane Hall 
 complained Cap, as she sat sewing with Mrs. Condiment in 
 the housekeeper's room. 
 
 You don't like this quiet country life ?" inquired Mrs. 
 Condiment. 
 
 No ; no better than I do a quiet country grave-yard. 
 I don't want to return to dust before my time, I tell you,'' 
 said Cap, yawning dismally over her work. 
 
 I HEAR YOU, viXEiT !" roarcd the voice of Old Hurri- 
 cane, who presently came storming in and saying : 
 
 ^' If you want a ride go and get ready quickly and come 
 with me; I am going down to the water-mill, please the 
 Lord, to warn Hopkins off the premises, worthless villian ! 
 had my grain there since yesterday morning, and hasn't 
 sent it home yet ! shan't stay in my mill another month. 
 Come, Cap, be off with you and get ready !" 
 
 The girl did not need a second bidding, but flew to pre- 
 pare herself, while the old man ordered the horses. 
 
 In ten minutes more Capitola and Major Warfield can- 
 tered away. 
 
184: 
 
 THE SMUGGLER AND OAPITOLA. 
 
 They had been gone about two hours, and it was almost 
 time to expect their return, and Mrs. Condiment had just 
 given orders for the tea-table to be set, when Wool came 
 into her room and said there was a sailor at the hall-door 
 with some beautiful foreign goods which he wished to show 
 to the ladies of the house. 
 
 A sailor. Wool, a sailor with foreign goods for sale ? 
 I am very much afraid he^s one of these smugglers IVe heard 
 tell of ; and I'm not sure about the right of buying from 
 smugglers ! However, I suppose there's no harm in looking 
 at his goods. You may call him in, Wool," said the old 
 lady, tampering with temptation. 
 
 '^He do look like a smudgeler, dat's a fact,'' said Wool, 
 whose ideas of the said craft were purely imaginary. 
 
 I don't know him to be a smuggler, and it's wrong to 
 judge, particularly beforehand," said the old lady, nursing 
 ideas of rich silks and satins, imported free of duty and sold 
 at half price, and trying to deceive herself. 
 
 While she was thus thinking, the door opened, and Wool 
 ushered in a stout, jolly-looking tar, dressed in a wide pea- 
 jacket, duck trowsers and tarpaulin hat, and carrying in his 
 hand a large pack. He took off his hat and scraped Lis foot 
 behind him, and remainded standing before the house- 
 keeper, with his head tied up in a red bandanna handker- 
 chief, and his chin sunken in a red comforter that was 
 wound around his throat. 
 
 "Sit down, my good man, and rest while you show me 
 the goods," said Mrs. Condiment, who, whether he were 
 smuggler or not, was inclined to show the traveler all law- 
 ful kindness. 
 
 The sailor scraped his foot- again, sat down on a low 
 chair, put his hat on one side, drew the pack before him, 
 untied it, and first displayed a rich, golden-hued fabric, 
 saying : 
 
 Now here, ma'am, is a rich China silk I bought in the 
 
THE SMUGGLER AND CAPITOLA. 
 
 185 
 
 streets of Shanghai, where the long-legged chickens come 
 from ; come, now, 1^11 ship it off cheap " 
 
 " Oh, that is a great deal too gay and handsome for an 
 old woman like me,^' said Mrs. Condiment. 
 
 Well, ma^am, perhaps there^s young ladies in the fleet ? 
 Now this would rig out a smart young craft as gay as a 
 clipper ! Better take it, ma'am. I'll ship it off cheap. ■'^ 
 
 Wool, said Mrs. Condiment, turning to the servant, 
 ''go down to the kitchen and call up the house-servants ; 
 perhaps they would like to buy something." 
 
 As soon as Wool had gone, and the good woman was left 
 alone with the sailor, she stooped and said : 
 
 " I did not wish to inquire before the servantman, but, 
 my good sir, I do not know whether it is right to buy from 
 you.- 
 
 '' Why so, ma\am ?" asked the sailor, with an injured 
 look. 
 
 Why, I am afraid — I am very much afraid you risk 
 your life and liberty in an unlawful trade.''' 
 
 ''Oh, ma'am, on my soul these things are honestly come 
 by, and you have no right to accuse me \" said the sailor, 
 with a look of subdued indio-nation. 
 
 " I know I haven't, and meant no harm ; but did these 
 goods pass through the custom-house 
 
 " Oh, ma'am, now, that's not a fair question !" 
 
 " It is as I suspected, I cannot buy from you, my good 
 friend ; I do not judge you ; I don't know whether smug- 
 gling is right or wrong ; but I know that it is unlawful, and 
 I cannot feel free to encourage any man in a traffic in which 
 he risks his life and liberty, poor fellow !" 
 
 " Oh, ma'am," said the sailor, evidently on the brink of 
 bursting into laughter — " if we risk our lives, sure it's our 
 own business, and if you've no scruples on your oxen account 
 you needn't have any on ours !" 
 
 While he was speaking the sound of many shuffling feet 
 
186 
 
 THE SMUGGLEB AND OAPlToLA. 
 
 was heard along the passage, and the room Avas coon lialf 
 filled with colored people come in to deal with the sailor. 
 
 You may look at these goods ; but you must not buy 
 anything/-' 
 
 Lor', missus, why asked little Pitapat. 
 
 Because I want you to lay out all your money with my 
 friend Mr. Crash, at Tip-top.'' 
 
 But after de good gemman has had de trouble said 
 Pitapat. 
 
 He shall have his supper and a mug of ale and go on 
 his journey,'' said Mrs. Condiment. 
 
 The sailor arose and scraped his foot behind him in 
 acknowledgment of this kindness, and began to unpack 
 his wares and display them all over the floor. 
 
 And while the servants in wonder and delight examined 
 these treasures and inquired their prices, a fresh, young 
 voice was heard carolling along the hall, and the next 
 moment Capitola, in her green riding habit and hat, entered 
 the room. 
 
 She turned her mischievous gray eyes about, pursed up 
 her lips, and asked Mrs. Condiment if she were about to 
 open a fancy bazaar. 
 
 No, my dear Miss Capitola. It is a sailor with for- 
 eign goods for sale," answered the old lady. 
 
 A sailor with foreign goods for sale ! umph ! yes ! I 
 know. Isn't he a smuggler ?" whispered Capitola. 
 
 " Indeed, I'm afraid so, my dear ! In fact he don't 
 deny it !" whispered back the matron. 
 
 Well, / think it's strange a man that smuggles can't 
 
 lie !" 
 
 Well, I don't know, my dear ; maybe he thinks it's no 
 harm to smuggle, and he knows it would be a sin to lie. 
 But where is your uncle. Miss Capitola ?" 
 
 Gone around to the stable to blow Jem up for mount- 
 ing him on a lame horse ; he swears J em shall find another 
 master before to-morrow's sun sets. But now I want to talk 
 
THE SMUGGLER AND CAPITOLA. 
 
 187 
 
 to that bold buccaneer. Say yon, sir ! Show me your foreign 
 goods ; I^m very fond of smugglers myself V 
 
 You are right, my dear young lady ! Yotc would give 
 poor sailors some little chance to turn an honest penny/' 
 
 " Certainly ! brave fellows ! Show me that splendid 
 fabric that shines like cloth of gold/' 
 
 ''This, my young lady, is a real, genuine China silk ; I 
 bought it myself in my last cruise in the streets of Shang- 
 hai, where the long-legged chickens " 
 
 " And fast 3^oung men come from ! I know the place. 
 Fve been all along there !" interrupted Oapitola, her gray 
 eyes glittering with mischief. 
 
 ''This, you will perceive, young lady, is an article that 
 cannot be purchased anywhere except " 
 
 " From the manufactory of foreign goods in the city of 
 New York, or from their traveling agents." 
 
 " Oh, my dear young lady, how you wrong me ! This 
 article came from 
 
 " The factory of Messrs. Hocus & Pocus, corner of Cant 
 and Come-it street, city of Gotham V 
 
 " Oh, my dear young lady — " 
 
 "Look liere, my brave buccaneer, I know all about it. 
 I told 3'ou I'd been along there said the girl ; and turning 
 to Mrs. Condiment, she said : '* See here, my dear, good 
 soul if yon want to buy that ' India' silk that you are look- 
 ing at so longingly, you may do it with a safe conscience. 
 True, it ne^er passed throngh the custom-house — because 
 it was made in New York. I know all about it ! All 
 these 'foreign goods' are manufactured at the north and 
 sent by agents all over the country. These agents dress and 
 talk like sailors, and assume a mysterious manner on pur- 
 pose to be suspected of smuggling — because they know well 
 enough fine ladies will buy much quicker and pay much 
 more, if they only fancy they are cheating Uncle Sam, in 
 buying foreign goods from a smuggler at half price !" 
 
188 
 
 THE SMUGGLER AND CAPITOL A. 
 
 So, then, you are not a smuggler, after all !" said 
 Mrs. Condiment, looking almost regretfully at the sailor. 
 
 Why, ma'am, you know I told you you were accusing 
 me wrongfully.'' 
 
 Well, but really, now, there was something about you 
 that looked sort of suspicious." 
 
 What did I tell you ! a look put on on purpose," said 
 
 Cap. 
 
 Well — he knows that if he wanted to pass for a smug- 
 gler, it didn't take here" said Mrs. Condiment. 
 
 ^' No — that it didn't !" muttered the object of these 
 commentaries. 
 
 " Well, my good man, since you are, after all, an honest 
 peddler, just hand me that silk, and don't ask me an 
 unreasonable price for it, because I'm a judge of silks, and 
 I won't pay more than it is worth," said the old lady. 
 
 Madam, I leave it to your own conscience. You shall 
 give me just what you think it's worth." 
 
 Humph ! that's too fair by half. I begin to think 
 this fellow is worse than he seems !" said Capitola to her- 
 self. 
 
 After a little hesitation a price was agreed upon, and 
 the dress bought. 
 
 Then the servants received permission to invest their 
 little change in ribbons, handkerchiefs, tobacco, snuff, or 
 whatever they thought they needed. When the purchases 
 were all made, and the peddler had done up his diminished 
 pack and replaced his hat upon his head and was preparing 
 to leave, Mrs. Condiment said : 
 
 ''My good man, it is getting very late, and we do not 
 like to see a traveler leave our house at this hour ; pray 
 remain until morning, and then, after an early breakfast, 
 you can pursue your way in safety." 
 
 " Thank you, kindly, ma'am, but I must be far on my 
 road to-night," said the peddler. 
 
 *' But, my good man^ you are a stranger in this part of 
 
THE SMUGGLER AND OAPITOLA. 
 
 189 
 
 the country, and don't know the danger you run/' said 
 the housekeeper. 
 
 Danger, ma'am, in this quiet country I" 
 " Oh, dear, yes, my good man, particularly with your 
 valuable pack — oh, my good gracious !" cried the old lady, 
 with an appalled look. 
 
 Indeed, ma'am, you — you make me sort of uneasy ! 
 What danger can there be for a poor, peaceful peddler 
 pursuing his path ?" 
 
 Oh, my good soul, may Heaven keep you from — 
 Black Donald !" 
 
 Black Donald— who's he ?" 
 
 Oh, my good man, he's the awf ulest villain that ever 
 went unhung !" 
 
 Black Donald ! Black Donald ! never heard that name 
 Defore in my life ! Why is the fellow called Blach Don- 
 ald ?" 
 
 ^'Oh, sir, he's called Black Donald for his black soul, 
 Dlack deeds, and — and — also, I believe, for his jet black 
 hair and beard." 
 
 ^' Oh, my countrymen, what a falling up was there !" 
 exclaimed Oapitola, at this anti-climax. 
 
 And how shall I keep from meeting this villain ?" 
 asked the peddler. 
 
 Oh, sir, how can I tell you ? You never can form an 
 idea where he is or where he isn't ! Only think, he may 
 be in our very midst any time, and we not know it. Why, 
 only yesterday the desperate villian handcuffed the very 
 sheriff in the very courtyard ! Yet I wonder the sheriff 
 did not know him at once I For my own part, I'm sure 1 
 should know Black Donald the minute I clapped my two 
 looking eyes on him !" 
 
 " Should you, ma'am ?" 
 Yes, indeed, by his long, black hair and beard I They 
 say it is a half a yard long. Now a man of such a singular 
 appearance as that must be easily recognized !" 
 
190 
 
 THE SMUGGLER AND OAPTTOLA. 
 
 " Of course ! Then you never met this wretch face to 
 face r 
 
 Me ! me ! am I standing here alive ? Do you suppose 
 I should be standing here if ever I had met that demon ? 
 Why, man, I never leave this house, even in the day-time, 
 except with two bull-dogs and a servant, for fear I should 
 meet Black Donald ! I know if ever I should meet that 
 demon, I should drop dead with terror. I feel I should !" 
 
 " But maybe now, ma^am, the man may not be so bad, 
 after all. Even the devil is not so black as he is painted.'^ 
 ^*The devil may not be, but Black Donald is." 
 
 What do you think of this outlaw, young lady asked 
 the peddler, turning to Capitola. 
 
 Why, I lihe him V said Cap. 
 
 You do r 
 
 " Yes, 1 do ! I like men whose very names strike terror 
 into the hearts of commonplace people V 
 
 " Oh, Miss Black \" exclaimed Mrs. Condiment. 
 
 ''Yes, I do, ma^am. And if Black Donald were only as 
 honest as he is brave, I should quite adore him ! so there ! 
 And if there is one person in the world I long to see, it is 
 Black Donald. 
 
 '' Do you really wish to see him asked the peddler, 
 looking intently into the half earnest, half satirical face of 
 the girl. 
 
 " Yes, I do wish to see him above all things." 
 *' And do you know what happened to the rash girl who 
 wished to see the devil ?" 
 '* No— what did r 
 "She saw Mm!" 
 
 " Oh, if that^s all, I dare it ! and if wishing will bring 
 me the sight of this notorious outlaw, lo ! I wish it. I wish 
 it. I wish to see Black Donald,^' said Capitola. 
 
 The peddler deliberately arose and put down his pack 
 and his hat ; then he suddenly tore off the scarf from his 
 neck and the handkerchief from his head, lifted his chin 
 
THE SMtTGOLBB AKD OAPITOLA. 
 
 191 
 
 and shook loose a great, rolling mass of black hair and beard; 
 drew himself up, struck an attitude, called up a look, and 
 exclaimed : 
 
 Behold Black Donald V 
 
 With a piercing shriek, Mrs. Condiment swooned and 
 fell to the floor ; the poor negroes, men and maids, were 
 struck dumb and motionless with consternation ; Capitola 
 gazed for one lost moment in admiration and curiosity ; in 
 the meantime Black Donald quickly resumed his disguises, 
 took up his pack and walked out of the room. 
 
 Capitola was the first to recover her presence of mind ; 
 the instinct of the huntress possessed her ; starting forward, 
 she exclaimed : 
 
 Pursue him ! catch him ! come with me ! Cowards ! 
 will you let a robber and murderer escape and she ran 
 out and overtook the outlaw in the middle of the hall. 
 With the agile leap of a little terrier she sprang up behind 
 him, seized the thick collar of his pea-jacket with both 
 hands, and drawing up her feet, hung there with all her 
 weight, crying : ' 
 
 Help ! murder ! murder ! help ! Come to my aid ! 
 Vyq caught Black Donald \" 
 
 He could have killed her instantly in any one of a dozen 
 ways I He could have driven in her temples with a blow of 
 his sledge-hammer first ; he could have broken her neck 
 with the grip of his iron fingers ; he only wished to shake 
 her off without hurting her — a difiScult task, for there she 
 hung, a dead weight, at the collar of his coat at the back of 
 his neck. 
 
 ^'Oh, very well!" he cried, laughing aloud. ^^Such 
 adhesiveness I never saw ! You stick to me like a wife to 
 her husband. So, if you won't let go, I shall have to take 
 you along, that's all ! So here I go, like Christian with his 
 bundle of* sin on his back." 
 
 And loosing the upper button of his pea-jacket so as to 
 give him more breath, and putting down his peddler's pack 
 
192 
 
 THE SMUGGLER AND CAPITOLA. 
 
 to relieve himself as much as possible, the outlaw strode 
 through the hall-door, down the steps, and down the ever- 
 green avenue leading to the woods. 
 
 Oapitola, still clinging to the back of his coat-collar, 
 with her feet drawn up, a dead weight, and still crying : 
 
 Help ! murder ! Fve caught Black Donald, and I'll 
 die before Til let him go" 
 
 " You're determined to be an outlaw's bride, that's cer- 
 tain. Well I've no particular objection," cried Black Don- 
 ald, roaring with laughter as he strode on. 
 
 It was a thing to see, not hear" — that brave, rash, 
 resolute imp clinging like a terrier, or a crab, or a briar, on 
 to the back of that gigantic rufiBan, whom, if she had no 
 strength to stop, she was determined not to release. 
 
 They had nearly reached the foot of the descent when a 
 great noise and hallooing was heard behind them. It was 
 the negroes, who, having recovered from their panic, and 
 armed themselves with guns, pistols, swords, pokers, 
 tongs, and pitch-forks, were now in hot pursuit. 
 
 And cries of ''Black Donald!" ''Black Donald!" 
 " Black Donald !" filled the air. 
 
 " I've got him ! I've got him ! help ! help ! quick ! 
 quick !" screamed Capitola, clinging closer than ever. 
 
 Though still roaring with laughter at the absurdity of 
 his position. Black Donald strode on faster than before and 
 was in a fair way of escape, when lo ! suddenly coming np 
 the path in front of him, he met — 
 
 Old Hurricane ! ! ! 
 
 As the troop of misoellaneously-armed negroes run- 
 ning down the hill were still making eve " hideous" with 
 yells of " Black Donald I" "Black Donald !" and Oapitola 
 still clinging and hanging on at the back of his neck con- 
 tinued to cry : "I've caught him ! I've caught him ! help ! 
 help !" something like the truth flashed in a blinking way 
 upon Old Hurricane's perceptions. 
 
 Roaring forth something between a recognition and defi- 
 
THE SMTJGOLEE AKD CAPITOL A. 
 
 193 
 
 ance, the old man threw up his fat arms, and as fast as age 
 and obesity would permit, ran up the hill to intercept the 
 outlaw. 
 
 There was no time for trifling now ! The army of 
 negroes was at his heels ; the old veteran in his path ; the 
 girl clinging a dead weight to his jacket behind. An idea 
 suddenly struck him which he wondered had not done so 
 before — quickly unbuttoning and throwing of his garment 
 he dropped both captor and jacket behind him on the 
 ground. 
 
 And before Capitola had picked herself up, Black Don- 
 ald, bending his huge head and shoulders forward and 
 making a battering-ram of himself, ran with all his force 
 and butted Old Hurricane in the stomach, pitched him 
 into the horse-pond, leaped over the park fence and disap- 
 peared in the forest. 
 
 What a sct^ne ! what a row followed the escape and flight 
 of the famous otttlaw ! 
 
 Who could imagine, far less describe it I — a general 
 tempest in which every individual was a particular storm. 
 
 There stood the baffled Capitola, extricating her head 
 from the pea-jacket, and with her eyes fairly flashing out 
 s;parlcs of anger, exclaiming : 
 
 Oh, wretches I wi'etches that you are ! if you\l been 
 worth salt you could have caught him while I clung to him 
 so \" 
 
 There wallowed Old Hurricane, spluttering, flounder- 
 ing, half-drowning, in the horse-pond, making the most 
 frantic efforts to curse and swear as he struggled to get 
 out. 
 
 There stood the crowd of negroes brought to a sudden 
 stand by a panic of horror at seeing the dignity of their 
 master so outraged. 
 
 And most frenzied of all, there ran Wool around and 
 around the margin of the pond, in a state of yiolent per- 
 
m 
 
 THE SMUGGLER AND OAPITOLA. 
 
 pWxiiy li(^w tb ge# liis master mi without halMrdwning 
 
 Blurr-urr-rr I flitch! filch! Blurr-ur ! splut/tered 
 £iad'^ne6Ze(i 'mid Btraiigled Old Hurrietine, as teflouw^ered 
 to«s^tla0' edge of the^ pond. Blufr-urr'-rr! Help me out, 
 yod- scoundi-el !' - PIP break everj^ bone in jom—flUch!— 
 bMyl' -Do yon ■ liekr me^(?«-S7m^^^ yon \ flitch ! 
 
 flitch! m-sn:ish\^: oh-h p' 
 
 Wool; wirf^li liigi eyes starUng bis head, and his hair 
 standing np with horrors of all sorts, plnnged at last into 
 tlie^ Water iiiid pnllGd^ his old master np npon his feet. 
 
 ■^^ Vcfj'Smsli I cu-snisli ! Uuvr-rir ! flitcii /—what are yon 
 gapiiig there for^as if yonM raised the deyil^ you crowd of 
 born f 00(1^ I '^howled Old Hm-ricane^ as-soon as he eonld get 
 the^ wate^^out of ^hi^ mouthaind noser— what; arc yon stand- 
 ing there for ? — after him ! after him, I say ! Scour the 
 WOai^ M ^ery directional His freedom to any man who 
 brings me Black Donald, dead or alive Wool V' 
 
 ' '^ ^^^"Eesy sir,- said tliat functionary who was busying 
 himseM wi^th scjuqezing the water ont of his master's gar- 
 
 Wooly let me alone! take the fleetest horse in the 
 stable ! ride for your life to the Conrt House ! Tell Keep^ 
 to havb new bills* posted everywhere, offering an additional 
 five hundred dollars for the apprehension of that— that— 
 that " — for the want of a word strong enough to express 
 himself. Old Hurricane suddenly stopped, and for lack of 
 his stick to make silence emphatic, he seized his gray hair 
 with both hands and groaned aloud. 
 
 Wool waited no second bidding, but flew to do his 
 errand. 
 
 Oapitolacame to the old man's side, saying : 
 Uncle, hadn't yon better hurry home— you'll take 
 oold.'^:^^--' ■ 
 
 1/ OoldP— :(7oZJ/ 'deinmy I I never was so hot in my 
 life !" cried the old man ; ''but demmy ! you're right I run 
 
THE SMUGGLER AND CAPITOLA. 
 
 195 
 
 to the house, Capitola, and tell Mrs. Coiidimeat to: lia^e 
 me a full suit of dry clothes before iJic fire in mryojhk^^^ 
 Gro, child ! every man-jack is o:ff after Black Donald, and 
 there is nobody but you, andOondim:ent, aiaddlie -iiouse- 
 nmids to take care of me. -Stop, dooki for ; tij siidr first ; 
 where did that black demon throw it dendmy lM^d as 
 well be without my legs : ; 
 
 - - Capitola picked up the old man^s cane and hat, ahd put 
 tho oiie on his head and the other in hi& hand, and then 
 hastened to find Mrs. Condiment, and :t ell her to j)repiffle 
 to receiye her half-drowned patron. She found thfe old 
 lady scarcely recovored from the effects of her recerit'^frighit, 
 hixt ready OIL the instant to make eyery effort oh behyfr of 
 Qld HuiTicane, who presently after arrived drSppingi^etcalt 
 the house. 
 
 - . Xeating:the old gentleman :to the :care : of 'his'Ihouse- 
 -keeper,:we:must follow Bliick Donald. : - ^ 
 
 Hatless and coatless, with his long black hair.and^beard 
 blown by the wind, the outlaw made tracks for his 
 retreat — occasionally stopping to turn-and got - breath, and 
 send a^shout of laughter at his baffied pursuers: - 
 
 That same night, at the usual hour, the gang'nret at 
 their rendezvous, the deserted inn, beside the -oM road 
 throug-h the forest. They were in the midst of their, orgies 
 around the supper-table, when the well-known 'ringing step 
 of the leader sounded under the back windows without, 
 the- door was burst open, and the captain, hatl ass, coatless, 
 with his dark elf locks flying, and every sign of haste and 
 disorder, rushed into the room. 
 
 He was met by a geneml rising and outcry Hi ! 
 hillo ! what's up exclaimed every nian> starting to his 
 feet and laying liands upon secrot arms, prepared fot* in- 
 stant resistance. 
 
 For a moment Black Donald stood with his ton ine head 
 
 - turned -and looking back oyer his stalwart *shGulders, ksj if 
 
196 
 
 THE SMUGGLER AND CAPITOLA. 
 
 in expectation of pursuit, and then, with a loud laugh, 
 turned to his men, exclaiming : 
 
 Ho ! you thought me followed ! So I have been ! but 
 not as close as hound to heel \" 
 
 " In fact, Captain, you look as if you'd but escaped with 
 your skin this time said Hal. 
 
 "Faith ! the captain looks well peeled V said Stephen. 
 Worse than that, boys ! worse than that ! Your chief 
 has not only lost his pack, his hat and his coat, but — his 
 heart ! Not only are the outworks battered, but the citadel 
 itself is taken ! Not only has he been captured, but cajp- 
 tivated! and all by a little minx of a girl ! — Boys, your chief 
 is in love !" exclaimed Black Donald, throwing himself into 
 his seat at the head of the table, and quaffing off a large 
 draught of ale. 
 
 " Hip ! hip ! hurraw ! three times three for the Cap- 
 tain's love \" cried Hal, rising to propose the toast, which 
 was honored with enthusiasm. 
 
 " Now tell us all about it. Captain. Who is she ? where 
 did you see her ? is she fair or dark ? tall or short ; thin or 
 plump ; what's her name, and is she kind ?" asked Hal. 
 
 "First guess where I have been to-day." 
 
 "You and your demon only know !" 
 
 "I guess they also know at Hurricane Hall, for it is 
 there I have been !" 
 
 " Well, then, why didn't you go to perdition at once ?" 
 exclaimed Hal, in a consternation that was reflected in every 
 countenance present. 
 
 " Why, because when I go there I intend to take you all 
 with me and remain !" answered Black Donald. 
 
 " Tell us about the visit to Hurricane Hall," said Hal. 
 
 Whereupon Black Donald commenced, and concealing 
 only the motive of his visit, gave his comrades a very 
 graphic, spicy and highly colored narrative of his adventure 
 at Hurricane Hall, and particularly of his "passages at 
 
THE SMUGGLER AXD CAPITOLA. 
 
 197 
 
 arms " with the little witcli. Capitola. whom he described 
 as : 
 
 Sucli a girl ! slender, petite, lithe, with bright, black 
 ringlets dancing around a little face full of fun, frolic, mis- 
 chief and spirit, and eyes quick and Tivacious as those of a 
 monkey, darting hither and thither from object to object. 
 •^The Captain is in love, sure enough,^' said Steve. 
 ^' Bravo ! hero's success to the Captain's love I — She's a 
 brick I'^ shouted the men. 
 
 Oh, she isJ' assented their chief, with enthusiasm. 
 
 Long life to her ! three times three for the pretty 
 witch of Hurricane Hall 1'"' roared the men, rising to their 
 feet and raising their full mugs high in the air, before 
 pledging the toast. 
 
 That is all very well, boys ; but I want more substan- 
 tial compliments than words — Boys! I must have that girlP^ 
 
 Who doubts it. Captain ? — of course you will take her 
 at once if you want her," said Hal, confidently. 
 
 But, I must have help in taking her."'^ 
 
 Captain, I volunteer for one I"^ exclaimed Hal. 
 
 And I, for another,'' added Steve. 
 
 And yoiu Dick ?''' inquired the leader, turning towards 
 the sullen man, whose greater atrocity had gained for him 
 the name of Demon Dick. 
 
 ^" TThat is the use of volunteering w'hen the captain has 
 only to command,'^ said this individual, sulkily. 
 
 All I when the enterprise is simply the robbing of a 
 mail-coach, in which you all have equal interest, then, in- 
 deed, your captain has only to command, and you to obey ; 
 but tliis is a more delicate matter of entering a lady's 
 chamber and carrying her off for the captain's arms, and so 
 should only be entrusted to those whose feelings of devotion 
 to the captain's person prompt them to volunteer for the 
 service,'^ said Black Donald. 
 
 How elegantly our captain speaks ! he ought to be a 
 lawyer/' said Steve. 
 
198 
 
 THE SMUGGLER AND CAPITOL A. 
 
 The captain knows Vm with him for everything/^ said 
 Dick, sulkily. 
 
 **Very well, then I for a personal service like this, a 
 delicate service requiring devotion, I should scorn to give 
 commands ! I thank you for your offered assistance, my 
 friends, and shall count on you' three, Hal, Stephen and 
 Eichard, for the enterprise," said the captain. 
 
 Ay lay ! ay said the three men in a breath. 
 
 "For the time and place and manner of the seizure of 
 the girl, w-e must reflect. Let us see ! there is to be a fair 
 in the village next w^eek, during the session of the court. 
 Old Hurricane will be at court as usual. And for one day, 
 at least>: his:sei'vants will have a holiday to go to the fair. 
 They will not get home until the next morning. The 
 house will be ill-guarded. We must find out the particular 
 day and night v/hen this shall be so. Then you three shall 
 watch your opportunity, enter the house by stealth, conceal 
 yourselves in the chamber of the girl, and at midnight, 
 when all is quiet, gag her and bring her away/' 
 
 " ExcGllent r said Hal. 
 
 " And mind, no liberty except the simple act of carry- 
 ing her off is to be taken with your captain^s prize," said 
 the leader, with a threatening glare of his lion-like eye. 
 
 " Oh, no ! no ! not for the world ! She shall be as 
 sacred from insult as though she were an angel and we 
 saints," said Hal, both the others assenting. 
 
 " And now not a word more. We will arrange the fur- 
 ther details of this business hereafter," said the captain, as 
 a peculiar signal was given at the door. 
 
 Waiving his hand for the men to keep their places. 
 Black Donald w^ent out and opened the back passage door, 
 admitting Col. Le Noir. 
 
 "Well," said the latter, anxiously. 
 
 " Well, sir, I have contrived to see her; come into the 
 front room and I will tell you all about it,'^ said the out- 
 
THE SMUGGLER AND CAPITOLA. 
 
 199 
 
 law, leading the way into the old parlor that had been the 
 scene of so many of their conspiracies. 
 
 ''Does Capitola Le K'oir still livef hoarsely demanded 
 the colonel/ as the two conspirators reached the parlor. 
 
 '' Still live ? yes ; 'twas hut yesterday we agreed upon 
 her death. Give a man time. Sit down_, Colonel ; take 
 this seat I we will talk the matter over again. *^ 
 
 With something very like a sigh of relief. Colonel Le 
 Xcir threw himself into the offered chair. 
 
 Black Donald drew another chair np and sat down 
 beside his patron. 
 
 Well, Colonel, I have contrived to see the girl as I told 
 you,^^ he began. 
 
 '' But you have not done the deed ; when v/ill it be 
 done r 
 
 '' Colonel, my patron, be patient. Within twelve days 
 I shall claim the last instalment of the ten thousand dollars 
 agreed upon between us for this job." 
 
 '^'But why so long ? since it is to be done, why not have 
 it over at once said Colonel Le Xoir, starting up and 
 pacing the floor impatiently. 
 
 '' Patience, my Colonel. The cat may play with the 
 mouse most delightfully before devouring it.'^ 
 
 '' What do you mean V' 
 My Colonel, I have seen the girl uuder circumstances 
 that has fired my heart with an uncontrollable desire for 
 her " 
 
 '- Ha-ha-ha I'^ scornfully laughed the colonel. " Black 
 Donald, the mail-robber, burglar, outlaw, the subject of the 
 grand passion I'*' 
 
 " Why not, my Colonel. Listen, you shall hear, and 
 then you shall judge whether or not you yourself miglit not 
 haye been fired by the fascination of such a witch said 
 the outlaw,, who stmightvray commenced and gave his patron 
 the same account of his visit to Hurricane Hall that he had 
 already related to his comrades. 
 
200 
 
 THE boy's love. 
 
 The colonel heard the story with many a ''pish,'* 
 '' tush " and ''pshaw/^ and when the man had concluded 
 the tale, he exclaimed : 
 
 *' Is that all ? Then we may continue our negotiations 
 — I care not. Carry her off ! marry her ! do as you please 
 with her ! only at the end of all — hill Tier hoarsely whis- 
 pered Le Noir. 
 
 '' That is just what I intend, Colonel." 
 
 '' That will do if the event he certain ; but it must he 
 certain. I cannot breathe freely while my hr other's heiress 
 lives I" whispered Le Noir. 
 
 '' Well, Colonel, be content ; here is my hand upon it. 
 In six days Capitola will be in my power. In twelve days 
 you shall be out of hers," 
 
 ''It is a bargain, ''^ said each of the conspirators in a 
 breath, as they shook hands and parted — Le Ngir to his 
 home and Black Donald to join his comrades' revelry. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE boy's love. 
 
 "Endearing! endearing I 
 
 Why so endearing 
 Are those soft, shining eyes, 
 
 Through their silk fringe peering ? 
 They love thee I they love thee I 
 
 Deeply, sincerely ; 
 And more than aught else on earth 
 
 Thou lovest them dearly !" — Motherwell. 
 
 While these dark conspiracies were hatching elsewhere, 
 all was comfort, peace and love in the doctor's quiet dwell- 
 ing. 
 
 Under Marah Rocke's administration the business of 
 
THE boy's LOTE. 
 
 201 
 
 the household went on with the regularity of clock-work. 
 Every one felt the advantage of this improved condition. 
 
 The doctor often declared that for his part he could not 
 for the life of him think how they had ever been able to get 
 along Without 'Mrs. Eocke and Traverse. 
 
 Clara affirmed that however the past might have been^ 
 the mother and son were a present and future necessity to 
 the doctor's comfort and happiness. 
 
 The little woman herself gained rapidly both health and 
 spirits and good looks. Under favorable circumstances^ 
 Marah Eocke^ even at thirty-six^ would have been esteem.ed 
 a first-rate beauty ; and even now she was pretty, graceful, 
 and attractive to a degree that she herself was far from 
 suspecting. 
 
 Traverse advanced rapidly in his studies, to the ardent 
 pursuit of which he was urged by every generous motive 
 that could fire a human bosom : affection for his mother, 
 whose condition he was anxious to elevate ; gratitude to his 
 patron, whose great kindness he wished to justify, and 
 admiration for Clara, whose esteem he was ambitious to 
 secure. 
 
 He attended his patron in all his professional visits ; for 
 the doctor said that actual experimental knowledge formed 
 the most important part of a young medical student's edu- 
 cation. 
 
 The mornings were usually passed in reading, in the 
 library ; the middle of the day in attending the doctor in 
 his professional visits, and the evenings were passed in the 
 drawing-room with the doctor, Clara, and Mrs. Eocke. 
 And if the morning's occupation was the most earnest and 
 the day's the most active, the evening's relaxation with 
 Clara and music and poetry was certainly the most delight- 
 ful. In the midst of all this peace and prosperity, a mal- 
 ady was creeping upon tlie boy's heart and brain that in 
 his simplicity and inexperience he could neither under- 
 stand nor conquer. 
 
202 
 
 THE boy's love. 
 
 Why was it that these eveoing fireside meetirLgs with the 
 doctor's lovely daughter, once such unalloyed delight, were 
 now only a keenly pleasing pain ? Why did his face burn 
 and his heart beat and his voice falter when obliged to speak 
 to her ? Why could he no longer talk of her to his mother, 
 or write of her to his friend Herbert Greyson ? Above all, 
 why had his favorite daydream of having his dear friends 
 Herbert and Clara married together grown so abhorrent as 
 to sicken his very soul ? 
 
 Traverse himself could not have answered these questions. 
 In his ignorance of life he did not know that all his strong, 
 ardent, earnest nature was tending towards the maiden by a 
 power of attraction seated in the deepest principles of being 
 and of destiny. 
 
 Glara in her simplicity did not suspect the truth; but 
 tried in every innocent way to enliven the silent boy, and 
 said that he worked too hard, and begged her father not to 
 let him study too much. 
 
 Whereupon the doctor would laugh and bid her not be 
 uneasy about Traverse — that the boy was all right and would 
 do very well. Evidently the doctor, with all his knowledge 
 of human nature, did not perceive that his protegee was in 
 process of forming an unadvisable attachment for his daugh- 
 ter and heiress. 
 
 Mrs. Rocke, with her woman's tact and mother's fore- 
 thought, saw all. She saw that in the honest heart of her 
 poor boy unconsciously there was growing up a strong, 
 ardent, earnest passion for the lovely girl with whom he was 
 thrown in such close, intimate, daily association and who 
 was certainly not indifferent in her feelings towards him ; 
 but whom he might never, never hope to possess. 
 
 She saw this daily growing, and trembled for the peace 
 of both. She wondered at the blindness of the doctor who 
 did; not perceive what vv^as so plain to her own vision. 
 Daily she looked to see the eyes of the doctor open and 
 some action taken upon the circumstances ; but they did 
 
THE BOTS LOVE. 
 
 not open to the evil ahead^ for the girl and boy ! For 
 morning after morning their hands would be together 
 tying up the same vin^?, or clearing out the same flower 
 bed ; day after day at tlie doctor's orders Traverse attended 
 Clara on her rides ; night after night their blnshing faces 
 would be bent over the same sketch book^ chess board, or 
 music sheet. 
 
 ^' Oh ! if the doctor cannot and will not see, what shall 
 I do ? what onght I to do said the conscientious little 
 woman to herself, dreadiug above all things, and equally 
 for her son and the doctor's daughter, the evils of an 
 unhappy attachment, which she, with her peculiar tem- 
 perament and experience believed to be the worst of sor- 
 rows, a misfortune never to be conquered or outlived. 
 
 Yes ! it is even better that we should leave the house, 
 than that Traverse should become hopelessly attached to 
 Clara ; or, worse than . all, that he should repay -the doctoi-^s 
 great bounty by winning the heart of his only daughter/' 
 said Marah Rocke to herself ; and so " screwing her cour- 
 age to the sticking place'' she took an opportunity one 
 morning early while Traverse and Clara were out riding, to 
 go into the study to speak to the doctor. 
 
 Asaisual he looked up with a smile to welcome her as 
 she entered ; but her downcast eyes and serious face made 
 him uneasy, and he hastened to inquire if she was not well, 
 or if anything had happened to make her anxious, and at 
 the same, time he placed a chair, and made her sit in it; 
 
 Yes, I am troubled, Doctor, about a subject that I 
 scarcely know how to break to you,'^ she said, in cotisider- 
 able embarrassment. 
 
 '^Mrs. Rocke, you know I am your friend^ anxious -to 
 serve you ! Trust in me, and speak out I'^ 
 
 Well, sir," said Marah, beginning to roll up the cor- 
 ner of her apron, in her embarrassment, should not 
 presume to interfere, but yoti do not see ! gentlemen, per- 
 haps, seldom do until it is too late.'" She paused, and the 
 
THE BOY^S LOVE. 
 
 good doctor tarned his head about, listening first Avith one 
 ear and then witli the other, as if he thought by attentive 
 hearing he might come to understand her incomprehensi- 
 ble words. 
 
 Miss Clara has the misfortune to be without a mother, 
 or an aunt, or any lady relative " 
 
 '^Oh ! yes ! I know it my dear madam ; but then I am 
 sure you conscientiously try to fill the place of a matronly 
 friend and adviser to my daughter/' said the doctor, striv- 
 ing after light. 
 
 Yes, sir, and it is in view of my duties in this relation 
 that I say — I and Traverse ought to go awayJ^ 
 
 You and Traverse go away ! My good little woman 
 you ought to be more cautious how you shock a man at my 
 time of life ! fifty is a very apoplectic age to a full blooded 
 man, Mrs. Eocke ! But now that I have got over the 
 shock, tell me why you fancy that you and Traverse ought 
 to go away.'' 
 
 '^Sir, my son is a well-meaning boy 
 
 A high-spirited, noble-hearted lad !" put in the doc- 
 tor. " I have never seen a better V 
 
 ^' But granting all that to be, what I hope and believe 
 it is — trice, still Traverse Eocke is not a proper or desirable 
 daily associate for Miss Day." 
 
 ^' Why ?" curtly inquired the doctor. 
 
 ^^If Miss Clara's mother were living, sir, she would 
 probably tell you that young ladies should never associate 
 with any except their equals of the opposite sex," said 
 Marah Eocke. 
 
 Clara's dear mother, were she on earth, would under- 
 stand and sympathize with me, and esteem your Traverse 
 as I do, Mrs. Eocke," said the doctor, with moist eyes and 
 a tremulous voice. 
 
 "But oh, sir, exceeding kind as you are to Traverse, I 
 dare not, in duty, look on and see things going the way in 
 
THE boy's love. 
 
 205 
 
 which they are, and not speak and ask your consent to 
 withdraw Traverse 
 
 *^My good little friend/' said the doctor, rising and 
 looking kindly and benignnntly upon Marah. My good 
 little woman, ' sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof !' 
 Suppose you and I trust a little in Divine Providence, and 
 mind our own business T' 
 
 But, sir, it seems to me a part of our business to watch 
 over the young and inexperienced, that they fall into no 
 snare/' 
 
 "And also to treat them with 'a little wholesome 
 neglect ' that our over officiousness may plunge them into 
 none I^' 
 
 wish you would comprehend me, sir 
 
 " I do, and applaud your motives ; but give yourself no 
 further trouble ! leave the young people to their own honest 
 hearts and to Providence. Clara, with all her softness, is a 
 sensible girl \ and as for Traverse, if he is one to break his 
 heart from an unhappy attachment, I have been mistaken 
 in the lad, that is all said the doctor, heartily. 
 
 Mrs. Rocke sighed, and saying — I deemed it ray duty 
 to speak to you, sir ; and having done so, I have no more 
 to say,'' she slightly curtsied and withdrew. 
 
 " He does not see ! his great benevolence blinds him ! 
 In his wish to serve us he exposes Traverse to the most 
 dreadful misfortune — the misfortune of becoming hopelessly 
 attached to one far above him in station, whom he can never 
 expect to possess !" said Marah Rocke to herself, as she 
 retired from the room. 
 
 " I must speak to Traverse himself, and warn him against 
 this snare," she said, as she afterwards ruminated over the 
 subject. 
 
 And accordingly that evening, when she had retired to 
 her chamber and heard Traverse enter the little adjoining 
 room where he slept, she called him in and gave him a seat. 
 
206 
 
 THE boy's love. 
 
 sayi lag that slie must have some serious conversation with 
 him. 
 
 The boj looked uneasy, but took the offered chair and 
 waited for his mother to speak. 
 
 /' Traverse/' she said, ^' a change has come over you 
 recently, that may escape all other eyes but those of your 
 mother ; she, Traverse, cannot be blind to anything that 
 serio^^sly taffects hfer ihoyfs ^happiness/' ^ 
 
 ,: . '' ;M(0tll|34 ,i*i^ai^biy:!,kiiow whatLyx)u^^^ said the 
 
 youth in embarrassment. 
 
 s ii^(^l^katese| yfitu ;al'e heginmng tothijiktoo much of Miss 
 
 '^'^ Oh, mother !" exclaimed the boy, while a violent 
 blush overspread and empurpled his face ! Then in a; little 
 while and in faltering tones he inquired— '' Have I betrayed 
 in any: way> that I do\?" 
 
 ; To n'o one but to me. Traverse, to me whose anxiety 
 foa-iyour happiness makes me watchful ; and now, dearboy, 
 you must lis ten to me. I know it is very sweet to you, to 
 sit in a dark corner and gaze on Clara, when no one, not 
 eveaai herself, witnesses y<Dur joy, and to lie awake and- think 
 and dream of her when no eye but that of God looks, down 
 upon your heart ; and to build castles in the air for her and 
 fbrryou ;[all thisi know is very sweet : but. Traverse, it is a 
 sweet pQison, fatal if indulged in, fatal to your, peace and 
 integrity/' 
 
 Oh, my mother !^oh, my mother ! what are y^ou tell- 
 ing-nie !'^;^^ex:cldimied Traverse, bitterly. 
 
 '^Unpalatable truths, dear boy, but necessary antidotes 
 to^thai sWefet poison of which you have already tasted too 
 much/*' J 
 
 ^' What would you have me to do, my mother ^ 
 '^•^ ^ Guard yduTiacts^aiid words,- and'even?^^o?^^to; forbear 
 t^feok aty oi'-^peak tOy or think of -Clara, except Avhen it is. 
 u^g6?©idabi^oi' yo^^ ' clo^ regard her '= as ish4 is^(m4 soiar 
 beyond your sphere as to be forever unattainable V 
 
THE boy's love. 
 
 Oh, mother, I neyer once dreamed of sjjch persJiJtt|i)- 
 
 tion as to think of — of " The youth paused^ and a deep 
 
 blush again overspread his face. 
 
 I know you have not indulged presumptuous thoughts 
 as yet, my boy, and it is to warn you against them,: while 
 yet your heart is in some measure within your own keepings 
 that I speak to you. Indulge your imagination in no more 
 sweet reveries about Miss Day, for the end thereof will be 
 bitter humiliation and disappointment, Eemember also 
 that in so doing you would indulge a sort of treachery 
 against your patron, who in his great faith in your integrity 
 has received you in the bosom of his family, and admitted 
 you to an almost brotherly intimacy with his daughter. 
 Honor his trust in you, and treat his daughter with the 
 distant respect due to a princess.^'' 
 
 ^'I will, mother. It will be hard, but I will ! Oh, an 
 hour ago I did not dream how miserable I should be now V 
 said Traverse, in a choking voice. 
 
 ^'Because I have pointed out to you the gulf towards 
 which you were walking blindfold 
 
 I know it. I know it now, mother, said: Tray ersG, as 
 he arose and pressed his mother's hand aiid hurried to his 
 own room. 
 
 The poor youth did his best to follow oiit the line ©f eon- 
 duct prescribed for him by his mother. He devoted himself 
 to his studies and to the active service of his patron. : He 
 avoided Clara as much as possible and, when obligTd to be 
 in her company, he treated her with the most respectful 
 reserve. , ; 
 
 Clara saw and wondered at this change of manner, ancl 
 began to cast about in her own mind for the probable' cause 
 of his conduct. - . 
 
 "I am the young mistress of the :housey^^said Clara to. 
 herself, and I know I owe to every inmate of: it consider- 
 ation and oeiirtesj^;^ perhaps I may h^iive be^n iiiaeonsciiously 
 lacking in these towards Traverse, whose situation wotiid? 
 
208 
 
 THE boy's love. 
 
 naturally render him very sensitive to neglect. I must 
 endeavor to convince him that none was intended. And 
 so resolving, Clara redoubled all her efforts to make Tra- 
 verse, as well as others, happy and comfortable. 
 
 But happiness and comfort seemed for the time to have 
 departed from the youth. He saw her generous endeavors 
 to cheer him, and while adoring her amiability, grew still 
 more reserved. 
 
 This pained the gentle girl, who, taking herself seriously 
 to task, said : 
 
 Oh, I must have deeply wounded his feelings in some 
 unconscious way ! and if so how very cruel and thoughtless 
 of me ! how could I have done it ? I cannot imagine ^ but 
 I know I shall not allow him to continue unhappy if I can 
 prevent it. I will speak to him about it.-*^ 
 
 And then in the candor, innocence and humility of her 
 soul, she followed him to the window where he stood in a 
 moody silence, and said, pleasantly : 
 
 "Traverse, we do not seem to be so good friends as 
 formerly. If I have done anything to offend you, I know 
 that you will believe me when I say that it was quite unin- 
 tentional on my part and that I am very sorry for it, and 
 hope you will forget it/' 
 
 " You, you. Miss Day ! you say anything to displease — 
 anybody I Any one become displeased with you ex- 
 claimed the youth, in a tremulous enthusiasm that shook 
 his voice and suffused his cheeks. 
 
 ^'Then if you are not displeased. Traverse, what is the 
 matter, and why do you call me Miss Day instead of 
 Clara r 
 
 " Miss Day, because it is right that I should. You are 
 a young lady — the only daughter and heiress of Doctor Day 
 of Willow Heights, while I am " 
 
 " His friend said Clara. 
 
 " The son of his housekeeper," said Traverse, walking 
 away. 
 
THE boy's love. 
 
 209 
 
 Clara looked after him in dismay for a moment, and 
 then sat down and bent thoughtfully over her needle-work. 
 
 From that day Traverse grew more deeply in love and 
 more reserved than before. How could it be otherwise, 
 domesticated, as he was, with this lovely girl, and becom- 
 ing daily more sensible of her beauty, goodness and intelli- 
 gence ? Yet he struggled against his inevitable attachment 
 as a great treachery. Meantime he made rapid progress in 
 his medical studies. It was while affairs were in this state 
 that one morning the doctor entered the study holding the 
 morning paper in his hand. Seating himself in his leathern 
 arm-chair, at the table, he said : 
 
 I see, my dear Traverse, that a full course of lectures is 
 to be commenced at the medical college in Washington, and 
 I think that you are sufficiently far advanced in your studies 
 to attend them with great advantage — what say you 
 
 Oh, sir V said Traverse, upon whom the proiDOsition 
 had burst quite unexpectedly — ''I should indeed be de- 
 lighted to go, if that were possible.''^ 
 
 There is no if about it, my boy ; if you wish to go you 
 shall do so. I have made up my mind to give you a pro- 
 fessional education, and shall not stop half-way.-'^ 
 
 Oh, sir, the obligation — the overwhelming obligation 
 you lay upon me 
 
 "ISTonsense, Traverse ! it is only a capital investment of 
 funds ! If I were a usurer, boy, I could not put out money 
 to a better advantage ! You will repay me, by and by, with 
 compound interest ; so just consider all that I may be able 
 to do for you as a loan to be repaid when you shall have 
 achieved success." 
 
 " I am afraid, sir, that that time will never " 
 
 '''No you are not interrupted the doctor — ''and so 
 don^t let modesty run into hj'pocricy. Now put up your 
 books and go and tell your good little mother to get your 
 clothes all ready for you to go to Washington, for you shall 
 start by the next coslcW 
 
210 
 
 THE -BO-^'S LOVE. 
 
 Much surprise it created in the little household by the 
 news that Traverse was going immediately to Washington 
 to attend the medical locfcures. There were but two days to 
 prepare his wardrobe for the journey. Mrs. Rock^ went 
 cheerfully to work ; Clara lent her willing and skillful aid, 
 and at the end of the second day his clothes, in perfect 
 order, were all neatly packed in his traveling trunk. 
 
 And on the morning of the third day Traverse took 
 leave of his mother and Clara, and for the first time left 
 home to go out into the great world. Doctor Day accom- 
 panied him in the old green gig aa far as Staunton, where 
 he took the stage. 
 
 As soon as they had left the house Marah Rocke went 
 away to her own room to drop a few natural tears over this 
 first parting with her son. Very lonely and desolate the 
 mother felt as she stood weeping by the window, and strain- 
 ing her eyes to catch a distant view of the old green gig 
 that had already rolled out of sight. 
 
 While she stood thus in her loneliness and desolation, 
 the door silently opened, a footstep softly crossed the floor, 
 a pair of arms was put around her neck, and Clara Day 
 dropped her head upon the mother^s bosom and wept 
 softly. 
 
 Marah Rocke pressed that beautiful form to her breast, 
 and felt with dismay that the doctor's sweet daughter 
 already returned her boy's silent love I 
 
CAPITOL AS MOTHEE. 
 
 211 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 capitola's mother. 
 
 "A woman like a dew-drop she was purer than the purest, 
 And her noble heart the noblest, yes, and her sure faith the 
 surest ; 
 
 And her eyes. w€j<e<.-.d^^ ,'^d humid like the depth in depth of 
 lustre 
 
 Hid- i' the- harebell, _ while her tresses^ sunnier than the wild 
 
 grape's cluster, . , 
 
 (xushed in faven-tinted plenty _^'3own'' her cheeks' ro5e-tint_ed' 
 
 marble : 
 
 Then her voice's music — call it the well's bubbling, the birds' - 
 warbte."^ - — Browning. 
 
 '^Cap r 
 
 What the blazes is the mss^tter with yon 
 
 What the Mazes 9 You bettei' say what the dn&t and 
 asEes ! Fm Tiered to d<?ath ! - rm blue as iiidis^o ! There 
 neyei? im^ such atrnm;oi4^piaee as this, or such a rum old 
 uncle as you l^^ 
 
 Gap t -how often ha.ve I told you to leave of^ this Bow- 
 ery hoy talk ! bah i'"^said Old Hurricane. 
 
 Well, it (5 ram - then ! Notiiing ever ha-ppens here I 
 The siienoe deafens me I the piMty takes away my appe- 
 tite ! the safety makes me low ^' 
 " Hum / jou are likB the Bowery boys in times of 
 peaee^- " spoiling, for a fight. 
 
 ""^^Z Ye^ I am:/ just dexjonarposing above ground for want 
 of having my blood stirred, and I wish I was back in the 
 Boweiy !: Something' was always happening f/zef-^ / One 
 day a fire, nexiidaj a fight, another da^ a fire and a fight 
 together.-" ^ : - 
 
212 
 
 capitola's mother. 
 
 Umpli ! and you to run with fclie engine \" 
 Don^t talk about it, uncle ! It makes me home sick ! 
 — every day something glorious to stir one's blood ! Here 
 nothing ever happens, hardly ! It has been three days 
 since I caught Black Donald ; ten days since you blowed 
 up the whole household ! Oh ! I wish the barns would 
 catch on fire ! I wish thieves would break in and steal ! 
 I wish Demon's Run would only rise to a flood and play t1ie 
 demon for once ! Oh — yah — oo !" said Cap, opening her 
 moutli with a yawn, wide enough to threaten the disloca- 
 tion of her jaws. 
 
 Capitola,'' said the old man, very gravely, I am 
 getting seriously uneasy about you. I know I am a rough 
 old soldier, quite unfit to educate a young girl, and that 
 
 Mrs. Condiment can^fc manage you, and Fll consult Mr, 
 
 Goodwin he concluded, getting up and putting on his 
 hat, and walking out of the breakfast room, where this 
 conversation had taken place. 
 
 Cap laughed to herself — " I hope it is not a sin ! I 
 know I should die of the blues if I couldn^t give vent to 
 my feelings — and tease uncle V 
 
 Capitola had scarcely exaggerated her condition. The 
 monotony of her life affected her spirits ; the very absence 
 of the necessity of thinking and caring for herself, left a 
 dull void in her heart and brain ; and as the winter waned, 
 the annual spring fever of lassitude and dejection to which 
 mercurial organizations like her own are subject, tended to 
 increase the malady that Mrs. Condiment termed a low- 
 ness of spirits." 
 
 At his wit's end, from the combined feelings of his 
 responsibility and his helplessness in his ward's case. Old 
 Hurricane went and laid the matter before the Eev. Mr. 
 Goodwin. 
 
 Having reached the minister's house, and found him 
 alone and disengaged in the library. Old Hurricane first 
 bound him over to strict secresy, and then ''made a clean 
 
213 
 
 breast of it r roll h: :: ^'apiroln had been br-uglit 
 
 up^ and imJer v,-lia: lie had found her I 
 
 The honest coimtrv clergyman vru? s!.o:hed beyond all 
 immediate power of recovering himself — so shocked^ in fact^ 
 that Old Hurricane, fearing he had gone too far, hastened 
 to say : 
 
 •'•'But mind, on my truth as a man, my honor as a sol- 
 dier, and my faich as a Christain, I declare that that wild, 
 reckless, desolare child has passed unscathed through the 
 terrible ordeal of destitution, poverty and exposure I She 
 hus, sir ! She is as innocent as the most daintily sheltered 
 young heiress in the county I she is, sir I and I'd cut oS the 
 tongue and ears of any man that said otherwise.'" 
 
 " I do not say otherwise, my friend I but I say that she 
 has suffered a frightful series of perils." 
 
 •'^ She has come out of them safe, sir ! I know it by a 
 thousand signs I — what I fear for her is the future! I 
 can't manage her I She won't obey me, except when she 
 likes ! she has never been taught obedience or been accus- 
 tomed to subordination, and don't understand either I She 
 rides and walks out alone in spite of all I can do or say I 
 If she were a boy, I'd thrash her I But what can I do with 
 a girl said Old Hurricane, in despair. 
 
 ^•' Lock her up in her chamber until she is brought to 
 reason,''-' suggested the minister. 
 
 '•' Demmy, she'd jump out of the window and break her 
 neck ! or hang herself in her garters ! or starve herself to 
 death ! you don't know what an untamable thing she is I 
 Some birds, if caged, beat themselves to death against the 
 bars of their prison I she is just such a wild bird as that I" 
 
 ••'Humph ! it is a difficult case to manage; but you 
 should not shrink from responsibility ; you should be firm 
 with her.'' 
 
 " That's just what I canH be with the witch, confound 
 her 1 she is such a wag, such a droU, such a mimic ; dis- 
 
214 
 
 CAPIT0LA^8 MOTHER. 
 
 obeys me in such, a mocking, cajoling, affectionate way ! I 
 could not give her pain if her soul depended on it." 
 
 ^''Then you should talk to her ! try moral suasion." 
 
 " Yes, if I could only get her to be serious long enough 
 to listen to me ! But you see Cap isn't sentimental I and 
 if / try to be, she laughs in my face V 
 
 "But then is she so insensible to all the benefits you 
 have conferred upon her? — will not gratitude influence 
 her r 
 
 " Yes ; so far as repaying me with a genuine affection, 
 fervent caresses and careful attentions to my little comforts 
 can go ! but Gap evidently thinks that the restriction of her 
 liberty is too heavy a price to pay for protection and support ! 
 The little rogue ! Think of her actually threatening, in 
 her good humored way, to cite me before the nearest •justice 
 to show cause why I detain her in my house 
 
 "Well, you could easily do that, I suppose, and she 
 could no longer oppose your authority." 
 
 "!N"o, that is just what 1 coiddnH do !—l couldn't show^ 
 any legal right to detain Capitola." 
 
 Humph, that complicates the case very much." 
 
 " and much more than you think ! for I wish to 
 
 keep Capitola until she is of Legal age. I do not wish that 
 she should fall into the hands of her perfidous guardian 
 until I shall be able to bring legal proof of his perfidy." 
 
 " Then it appears that this girl has received foul play 
 from her friends ?" 
 
 " Foul play ! I should think so ! Gabriel Le Noir has 
 very nearly put his neck into a halter." 
 
 " Gabriel Le Noir ! Colonel Le Mr ! Our neighbor !" 
 exclaimed the minister. 
 
 " Exactly so Parson I you have given me your word 
 as a Christian minister to be silent forever concerning this 
 interview or until I give you leave to speak of it." 
 
 "Yes, Major, and I repeat my promise ; but indeed, siiv^ 
 you astound me I" / 
 
CAPITOL A 'S MOTHER. 
 
 215 
 
 '^Listen! and let astouisliment rise to consternation. 
 I will tell you who Capitola is. You, sir, have been in this 
 neighborhood only ten years, and consequently you know 
 G-abriel Le iNoir only as the proprietor of Hidden House, a 
 vridower with one grown son 
 
 And as a gentleman of irreproachable reputation, 
 
 in good standing both in the church and in the county. 
 
 Exactly. A man that pays his pew-rent, gives good 
 dinners, and takes oif his hat to women and clergymen. 
 Well, sir, this gentleman of irreproachable manners and 
 morals — this citizen of consideration in the community — 
 this member in good standing with the Church ha-s qualified 
 himself for a twenty years^ residence in the penitentiary, 
 even if not for the exaltation of a hangman^s halter.''^ 
 
 ^' Sir, I am inexpressibly shocked to hear you say so ; 
 and I must still believe that there is some great mistake."" 
 Wait until I tell you : I, Ira TTarfield, have known 
 G-abriel Le Xoir as a villain for the last eighteen years. I 
 tell you so without scruple, and hold m3'self ready to main- 
 tain my words in field or forum, by s"^'ord or law. Well, 
 having known him so long, for such a knave, I was in no 
 manner surprised to discover some six months ago that he 
 was also a criminal, and only needed exposure to become a 
 felon.^^ 
 
 " Sir, sir, this is strong language 
 I am willing to back it with ^ life, liberty, and sacred 
 honor,^ as the Declaration of Independence has it. Listen : 
 Some sixteen years ago, before you came to take this pas- 
 toral charge, the Hidden House was occupied by old Victor 
 Le Xoir, the father of Eugene the heir, and of Gabriel the 
 present usurper. The old man died, leaving a will to this 
 effect : the landed estate, including the coal and iron 
 mines, the Hidden House, and all the negroes, stock, fur- 
 niture and other personal property upon the premises, to 
 h^ eldest son Eugene, with this proviso ; that if Eugene 
 should die without issue, the landed estate, house^, negroes, 
 
216 
 
 capitola's mother. 
 
 etc., should descend to his younger brother Gabriel. To 
 Gabriel he left his bank-stock and blessing/^ 
 ^'^An equitable will," observed the minister. 
 
 Yes ; but hear. At the time of his father^s death 
 Eugene was traveling in Europe. On receiving the news 
 he immediately returned home, bringing with him a lovely 
 young creature, a mere child, that he presented to his 
 astounded neighbors as Madame Eugene Le Noir. I 
 declare to you there was one simultaneous outcry of shame, 
 that he should have trapped into matrimony a creature so 
 infantile — for she was scarcely fourteen years of age."' 
 '^It was indeed highly improper," said the minister. 
 
 So thought all the neighborhood ; but when they found 
 out how it happened, disapproval was changed to commen- 
 dation. She was the daughter of a French patriot. Her 
 father and mother had both perished on the scaffold in the 
 sacred cause of liberty ; she was thrown helpless, friendless, 
 and penniless upon the cold charity of the world ; Provi- 
 dence cast her in the way of our sensitive and enthusiastic 
 young traveler. He pitied her ; he . loved her ; and was 
 casting about in his own mind how he could help without 
 compromising her, when the news of his father's illness 
 summoned him home. Then, seeing no better way of pro- 
 tecting her, after a little hesitation on account of her tender 
 years, he married her and brought her with him." 
 
 Good deeds, we know, must be rewarded in heaven, 
 since on earth they are so often punished." 
 
 He did not long enjoy his bride. She was just the 
 most beautiful creature that ever was seen — with a promise 
 of still more glorious beauty in riper years. I have seen 
 handsome women and jDretty woman, but Madame Eugene 
 Le Noir was the only perfectly beautiful woman I ever saw 
 in my long life. My own aged eyes seemed ' enriched ' only 
 to look at her. She adored Eugene, too — any one could see 
 . that. At first she spoke English in ' broken music but 
 soon her accent became as perfect as if she had been native- 
 
CAPITOL A.' S MOTHER. 
 
 217 
 
 born — how could it have been otherwise when her teacher 
 and inspirer was Love ? She won all hearts with her love- 
 liness ! — Humph ! hear me, an old fool — worse, an Old 
 Hurricane, betrayed into discourse of love and beauty, 
 merely by the remembrance of Madame Eugene Le Noir ! 
 Ah, bright, exotic flower ! she did not bloom long. The 
 bride had scarcely settled down into the wife when one night 
 Eugene Le Noir did not come home as usual. The next 
 day his dead body, with a bullet in his brain, was found in 
 the woods around the Hidden House. The murderer was 
 never discovered. Gabriel Le ISToir came in haste from the 
 military post where he had been stationed. Madame Eugene 
 was never seen abroad after the death of her husband. It 
 was reported that she had lost her reason — a consequence 
 that surprised no one. Eugene having died without issue, 
 and his young widow being mad, Gabriel, by the terms of 
 his father's will, stepped at once into the full possession of 
 the whole property. 
 
 Something of all this I have heard before/' said the 
 minister. 
 
 Very likely ; for these facts and falsehoods were the 
 common property of the neighborhood. But what you have 
 not heard before, and what is not known to any now living, 
 except the criminals, the victims and myself, is, that three 
 months after the death of her husband, Madame Eugene Le 
 Noir gave birth to twins — one living, one dead. The dead 
 child was privately buried ; the living one, together with 
 the nurse, that was the sole witness of the birth, was 
 abducted.'' 
 
 " Great heaven, can this be true !" exclaimed the 
 minister, shocked beyond all power of self-control. 
 
 True as gospel ! I have proof enough to carry con- 
 viction to any honest breast — to satisfy any caviller — except 
 a court of justice. You shall hear. You remember the 
 dying woman whom you dragged me out in the snow-storm 
 to see — blame you 1'* 
 
218 
 
 CAPITOL a's mother. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " She was the abducted nurse, escaped and retnrned ! It 
 was t© make a deposition to the facts I am about to relate, 
 that she sent you to fetch me/^ said Old Hurricane ; and 
 with that he commenced and related the whole dark his- 
 tory of crime comprised in the mirse^s dying deposition. 
 They examined the instrument together, and Old Hurricane 
 again related, in brief, the incidents of his hurried journey 
 to E"ew York ; his meeting and identifying Capitola, and 
 bringing her home in safety to his house. 
 
 And thus, said the old man, ^'^you perceive that this 
 child whose birth was feloniously concealed, and who was 
 cast away to perish among the wretched beggars, thieves 
 and street- walkers of New York, is really the only living 
 child of the late Eugene Le Noir, and the sole inheritrix of 
 the Hidden House, with its vast acres of fields, forests, iron 
 and coal-mines, water-powers, steam-mills, furnaces and 
 foundries — wealth that I would not undertake to estimate 
 within a million of dollars !— all of which is now held and 
 enjoyed by that usurping villain, Gabriel Le Noir !" 
 
 But, said the minister, gravely, you have, of course, 
 commenced proceedings on the part of your protegee. 
 
 '^Listen. I will tell you what I have done. When I 
 first brought Cap home, I was moved not only by the desire 
 of wreaking vengeance upon a most atrocious miscreant 
 who had done me an irreparable injury, but also by sympa- 
 thy for the little witcli who had won my heart at first 
 sight. Therefore you may judge I lost no time in prepar- 
 ing to strike a double blow which should ruin my own 
 mortal enemy, and reinstate my favorite in her rights. 
 With this view, immediately on my return home I sent for 
 Breefe, my confidential attorney, and laid the whole mat- 
 ter before him." 
 
 ''And he- " 
 
 " To my dismay he told me that though the case was 
 clear enough, it was not sufiQciently strong, in a legal point 
 
CAPITOL A's mother. 
 
 219 
 
 of view, to justify ns in bringing suit ; for that the dying 
 deposition of the mulatto nurse could not be received as 
 evidence in our courts." 
 
 "You knew that before, sir, I presume.^' 
 
 " Of course I did ; but I tliought it was a lawyer's busi- 
 ness to get over such diflB.culties ; and 1 assure you, par- 
 son, that I flew into a passion, and cursed court and law 
 ^nd lawyers to my heart's content ! I would have quar- 
 reled with old Breefe, then and there, only Breefe woiiH 
 get excited. He very cooly advised me to keep the matter 
 close, and my eye open, and gather all the corroborative 
 testimony I could find, and that in the meantime he would 
 reflect upon the best manner of proceeding." 
 
 I think. Major Warfield, that his counsel was wise 
 and disinterested. But tell me, sir, of the girl's mother ! 
 Is it not astonishing ; in fact, is it not perfectly incompre- 
 hensible, that so lovely a woman as you have represented 
 her to be, should have consented to the concealment, if not 
 to the destruction of her own legitimate offspring." 
 
 " Sir, to me it is not incomprehensible at all ! She was 
 at once an orphan and a widow ; a stranger in a strange 
 land ; a poor, desolate, broken-hearted child, in the power 
 of the cunningest and most unscrupulous villain that the 
 Lord ever suffered to live ! I wonder at nothing that he 
 jnight have deceived or frightened her into doing !" 
 
 " Heaven forgive us ! Have I known that man for ten 
 years to hear this account of him at last ! But tell me, sir, 
 have you really any true idea of what has been the fate of 
 the poor young widow ?" 
 
 "i^o — not the slightest. Immediately after his 
 brother's funeral, Gabriel Le Noir gave out that Madame 
 Eugene had lost her reason through excessive grief,, soon 
 after which he took her with him to the North, and upon 
 his return alone, reported that he had left her in a cele- 
 brated Lunatic Asylum. The story was probable enough, 
 and received universal belief. Only now I do not credit 
 
220 
 
 oapitola's mother. 
 
 it, and do not know whether the widow be living or dead ; 
 or if living, whether she be mad or sane ; if dead, whether 
 she came to her end by fair means or foul!" 
 
 Merciful Heaven, sir ! you do not mean to say " 
 
 "Yes, I do mean to say ; and if you would like to know 
 what is on my private mind I'll tell you. I believe that 
 Madame Eugene Le ISToir has been treacherously made 
 away with by the same infernal demon at Whose instigation 
 her husband was murdered and her child stolen/' 
 
 The minister seemed crushed beneath the overwhelming 
 weight of this communication ; he passed his hand over his 
 brow, and thence down his face, and sighed deeply ; for a 
 few moments he seemed unable to reply, and when he spoke 
 it was only to say : 
 
 "In this matter. Major Warfield, I can offer you no 
 counsel better than that of your confidential attorney — 
 follow the light that you have, until it lead you to the full 
 elucidation of this affair, and may Heaven grant that you 
 may find Colonel Le Noir less guilty than you apprehend/' 
 
 " Parson ! — humbug ! When charity drivels it ought to 
 be turned off by justice ! I will follow the little light I 
 have ! I suspect from the description, that the wretch who 
 at Le Noir's instance carried off the nurse and child, was 
 no other than the notorious Black Donald. I have offered 
 an additional thousand dollars for his apprehension, and if 
 he is taken he will be condemned to death, make a last 
 dying speech and confession, and give up his accom- 
 plices, the accomplished Colonel Le Noir among the rest V 
 
 " If the latter really was an accomplice, there could be 
 no better way of discovering the fact than to bring this 
 Black Donald to justice ; but I greatly fear that there is 
 little hope of that." 
 
 " Aye, but there is ! Listen ! the long impunity 
 enjoyed by this desperado has made him daring to fatuity ! 
 Why, I was within a hair's breadth of capturing him 
 a few days ago." 
 
capitola's motheb. 
 
 221 
 
 Ha ! is it possible ?" asked the minister, with a look 
 of surprise and interest. 
 
 Aye, was I ! And you shall hear all about it said 
 Old Hurricane. And upon that he commenced and told 
 the minister the adventure of Capitola with Black Donald 
 at Hurricane Hall. 
 
 The minister was amazed, yet could not forbear to 
 say : 
 
 It seems to me, however, that it was Capitola who was 
 within a hair^s breadth of capturing this notorious desper- 
 ado V 
 
 Pooh ! she clung to him like the reckless lunatic that 
 she is ; but lord, he would have carried her off on his back 
 if it had not been for me.^' 
 
 The minister smiled a little to himself and then said : 
 " This protegee of yours is a veiy remarkable girl, as 
 interesting to me in her character, as she is in her history ; 
 her very spirit, courage and insubordination make her sin- 
 gularly hard to manage and apt to go astray. TVith your 
 permission I will make her acquaintance, with the view of 
 seeing what good I can do her." 
 
 Pray, do so, for then you will be better able to counsel 
 me how to manage the capricious little witch, who if I 
 attempt to check her in her wild and dangerous freedom of 
 action, tells me plainly that liberty is too precious a thing 
 to be exchanged for food and clothing, and that rather than 
 live in bondage she would throw herself upon the protection 
 of the court ! — if she does that the game is up ! Lo Xoir, 
 against whom we can as yet prove nothing, would claim her 
 as his niece and ward, and get her into his power for the 
 purpose of making away with her, as he did with her father 
 and mother." 
 
 Oh ! for heaven's sake, sir, no more of that until we 
 have further evidence," said the minister, uneasily, adding 
 — ^'I will see your very interesting protegee to-morrow." 
 
222 
 
 cap's teicks and perils. 
 
 Do ! do ! to-morrow, to day, this hour, anytime said 
 Major Warfield, as he cordially took leave of the pastor. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 cap's TRICKS AND PERILS. 
 
 " I'll be merry and free, 
 I'll be sad for naebody ; 
 Naebody cares for me, 
 I cares for fiaebody." -r-BnRirs. 
 
 The next day, : according to agreement, the pastor came 
 and dined at Hurricane Hall, DuriUg tbe dinner he had 
 ample opiwrtunity of observing Oapitola. 
 
 In the afternoon Major Warfield took an oeeasion of 
 leaving him alone with the conturnacions young object of 
 his visit. 
 
 Cap, with her quick perceptions, instantly discovered 
 the drift and purpose of this action, which immediately 
 provoked all the mischievous propensities of her elfish 
 spirit. 
 
 " Uncle means that I shall be lectured by the good par- 
 son : if he preaches to me, wonH I humor him ' to the top 
 of his bent V — *that^s all I^"* was her secret resolution/ as 
 she sat demurely, with pursed^up lips, bending over her 
 needle-work. 
 
 The honest and well-mieaning old country tclergyman 
 liitched his chair a little nearer to the perverse young rebel, 
 and, ;f/w^erf?/y--f0r he was;ha]f 'afraid of his questionable 
 subject,— entered into conversation with her. 
 
 To his surprise and pleasure, Oapitola replied with the 
 decorum of a young nun. 
 
CAP'S TKICKS AND PERILS. 
 
 223 
 
 Encouraged by her manner, the good minister went on 
 to say how much interested he felt in her welfare ; how 
 deeply he compassionated her lot in never hating possessed 
 the advantage of a mother^B teaching ; how anliotis he was 
 by his counsels to make up to her as much as possible such 
 a deficiency. 
 
 Here Oapitola put up both her harids and dropped her 
 face upon them. 
 
 Still farther encouraged by this exhibition of feeling, 
 Mr. Goodwin went on. He told her that it behooved lier, 
 who was a motherless girl, to be even more circumspect 
 than others, lest through very ignorance she might err; 
 and in particular he warned her against riding or walking 
 out alone, or indulging in any freedom of manners that 
 might draw upon her the animadversions of their very 
 strict community. 
 
 Oh, sir, I know I have been very indiscreet, and I am 
 very miserable said Oapitola, in a heart-broken voice. 
 
 My dear child, your errors have hitherto been those 
 of ignorance only, and I am very much pleased to find how 
 much your good uncle has been mistaken ; and how ready 
 you are to do strictly right when the way is pointed out V 
 said the minister, pleased to his honest heart's core that he 
 had made this deep impression. 
 
 A heavy sigh burst from the bosom of Oapitola. 
 
 " What is the matter, my dear child V' he said, kindly. 
 Oh, sir, if I had only known you before T exclaimed 
 Oapitola, bitterly. 
 
 Why, my dear ? — I can do you just as much good now/' 
 
 "Oh, no, sir ! it is too late ! His too lateT' 
 
 " It is never too late to do well.'' 
 Oh, yes, sir, it is for me ! Oh, how I wish I had Had 
 jour good counsel before ! it would have saved me from so 
 much trouble !" 
 
 " My dear child, you make me seriously uneasy I do 
 
224: 
 
 cap's tricks and perils. 
 
 explain yourself, said the old pastor, drawing his chair 
 closer to hers, and trying to get a look at the distressed lit- 
 tle face that was bowed down upon her hands, and vailed 
 with her hair — Do tell me, my dear, what is the mat- 
 ter r 
 
 " Oh, sir, Fm afraid to tell you ! you'd hate and 
 despise me ! you'd never speak to me again I" said Capitola, 
 keeping her face concealed. 
 
 My dear child," said the minister, very gravely and 
 sorrowfully, '^whatever your offense has been, and vou 
 make me fear that it has been a very serious one, I invite 
 you to confide it to me, and having done so I promise how- 
 ever I may mourn the sin, not to Miate,' or ^despise,' or 
 forsake the sinner. Come, confide in me." 
 
 '^Oh, sir, I daren't ! indeed I daren't !" moaned Capi- 
 tola. 
 
 ''My poor girl !" said the minister, ''if I am to do you 
 any good, it is absolutely necessary that you make me your 
 confidant." 
 
 "Oh, sir, I have been a very wdcked girl ! I daren't 
 tell you ho20 wicked I have been !" 
 
 " Does your good uncle know or suspect thfs wrong-do- 
 ing of yours ?" 
 
 " IJncle ! Oh, no, sir ! He'd turn me out of doors. 
 He'd kill me ! Indeed he would, sir. Please don't tell 
 him !" 
 
 " You forget, my child, that / do not know the nature 
 of your offence," said the mfnistor, in a state of painful 
 anxiety. 
 
 " But I'm going to inform you, sir ! and, oh, I hope 
 you will take pity on me and tell me what to do ; for though 
 I dread to speak, I can't keep it on my conscience any 
 longer, it is such a heavy weight on my breast !" 
 
 " Sin always is, my poor girl !" said the pastor, with a 
 deep groan. 
 
cap's tricks and perils. 
 
 225 
 
 But, sii% you know I had no mother, as you said your- 
 self.'' 
 
 I know it, my poor girl, and am ready to make every 
 allowance,^' said the old pastor, with a deep sigh, not know- 
 ing what next to expect. 
 
 *^And — and — I hope you will forgive me, sir ! but — 
 lut he was so handsome I coiildnH help lihing him!'' 
 
 Miss Black V cried the horrified pastor. 
 
 There ! I lc7ieio you\l just go and bite my head off the 
 very first thing ! Oh dear, what shall I do sobbed Capi- 
 tola. 
 
 The good pastor, who had started to his feet, remained 
 gazing upon her in a panic of consternation, murmuring to 
 himself : 
 
 Good angels ! I am fated to hear more great sins than 
 if I were a prison chaplain V Then going up to the sobbing 
 delinquent, he said: 
 
 Unhappy girl! who is this person of whom you 
 
 speak 
 
 ^'H — h — h — him that I met when I went walking in 
 the woods V' sobbed Capitola. 
 
 Heaven of Heavens ! this is worse than my very worst 
 fears ! — Wretched girl ! tell me instantly the name of this 
 base deceiver !" 
 
 He — he — he's no base deceiver ; he — he — he's very 
 amiable and good-looking ; and — and — and that's why I 
 liked him so much ; it was all my fault, not his, poor, dear 
 fellow !" 
 
 "His name ?'' sternly demanded the pastor. 
 " Alf— Alf— Alfred,'^ wept Capitola. 
 ''Alfred whom?'' 
 
 ''Alfred Blen—Blen— Blenheim !" 
 " Miserable girl ! how often have you met this miscreant 
 in the forest ?" 
 
 " I — don't — know V sobbed Capitola. 
 " Where is the wretch to be found now ?** 
 
226 
 
 CAP S TRICKS AND PERILS. 
 
 Oil, please don't liurt him, sir ! Please don'fc ! He — 
 iie — he's hid in the closet in my room." 
 
 A groan that seemed to have rent his heart in twain 
 burst from the minister, as he repeated in deepest horror : 
 
 ^' In your room ! (Well ! I must prevent murder being 
 done !) Did you not know, you poor child, the danger you 
 ran by giving this young man private interviews ; and, 
 above all, admitting him to your apartment ? Wretched 
 girl ! better you'd never been born than ever so to have 
 received a man !' 
 
 Man ? man 9 man ? — Fd like to know what you mean 
 by that, Mr. Goodwin !" exclaimed Capitola, lifting her 
 eyes flashing through their tears. 
 
 I mean the man to wiiom you have given these private 
 interviews.'' 
 
 1! — / give private interviews to a man ! Take care 
 what you say, Mr. Goodwin ! I Avon't be insulted ! no not 
 even by you /" 
 
 Then if you are not talking of a man, who or what in 
 the world are you talking about ?" exclaimed the amazed 
 minister. 
 
 Why, Alfred, the Blenheim poodle that strayed away 
 from some of the neighbor's houses, and that I found in the 
 woods and brought home and hid in my closet, for fear he 
 would be inquired after, or uncle would find it out, and 
 make me give him u]) ! I knew it was wrong, but then he 
 
 was so pretty " 
 
 Before Capitola had finished her speech, Mr. Goodwin 
 had seized his hat, and rushed out of the house in indigna- 
 tion, jiearly overturning Old Hurricane, whom he met on 
 the lawn, and to whom he said : 
 
 ^' Thrash that girl as if she were a bad boy — for she 
 richly deserves it !" 
 
 There ! what did I say ! now you see what a time I 
 have with her ! she makes me sweat, I tell you !" said Old 
 Hurricane, in triumph. 
 
CAP'S TRICKS AND PERILS. 
 
 227 
 
 " Oh, oh, oh," groaned the sorely tried minister. 
 What is it now ?" inquired Old Hurricane. 
 
 The pastor took the major^s arm, and while the}^ walked 
 up and down before the house, told how he had been ' sold ' 
 by Capitola, ending by saying : 
 
 " You will have to take her firmly in hand.-" 
 
 ''VU do it," said Old Hurricane. Til do it.'' 
 
 The pastor then called for his horse, and resisting all 
 his host's entreaties to stay to tea, took his departure. 
 
 Major Warfield re-entered the house, resolving to say 
 nothing to Capitola for the present, but to seize the very 
 first opportunity of punishing her for this flippancy. 
 
 The village fair had commenced on Monday. It had 
 been arranged that all Major Warfield's family should go, 
 though not all upon the same day. It was proposed that 
 on Thursday, when the festival shonld be at its height. 
 Major Warfield, Capitola and the house-servants should go. 
 And on Saturday, Mrs. Condiment, Mr. Ezy and the farm- 
 servants should have a holiday for the same purpose. 
 
 Therefore upon Thursday morning all the household 
 bestirred themselves at an unusually early hour, and 
 appeared before breakfast in their best Sunday's suit. 
 
 Capitola came down to breakfast in a rich, blue silk 
 carriage dress, looking so fresh, blooming and joyous, that 
 it went to the old man's heart to disappoint her ; yet Old 
 Hurricane resolved, as the pastor had told him to be firm," 
 and once for all, by inflicting punishment to bring her to a 
 sense of her errors. 
 
 " There, you need not trouble yourself to get ready, 
 Capitola, you shall not go to the fair with us !" he said, as 
 Cap, took her seat. 
 
 *^ Sir !" exclaimed the girl, in surprise. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! you may stare ! but I'm in earnest ! you 
 have behaved very badly ! you have deeply offended our 
 pastor ! you have no reverence, no docility, no propriety, 
 and I mean to bring you to a sense of your position by 
 
228 
 
 cap's tricks and peeils. 
 
 depriving you of some of your indulgences ! and in a word, 
 to begin, I say you shall not go to the fair to-day V 
 
 You mean, sir, that I shall not go with you, although 
 you promised that I should, said Cap, coolly. 
 
 I mean you shall not go at all, demmy V 
 
 Fd like to know who^ll prevent me,^^ said Cap. 
 " / will. Miss Vixen ! Demmy, V\\ not be set at 
 
 naught by a beggar ! Mrs. Condiment ! leave the 
 
 room, mum, and don^t be sitting there listening to every 
 word I have to say to my ward. Wool, be off with your- 
 self, sir ! what do you stand there gaping and staring for ? 
 
 — be off, or ^' the old man looked around for a missile, 
 
 but before he found one the room was evacuated except by 
 himself and Capitola. 
 
 Now, minion !" he began as soon as he found himself 
 alone with the little rebel : 
 
 ^^I did not choose to mortify you before the servants, 
 but once for all, I will have you to understand that I 
 intend to be obeyed V And Old Hurricane gathered his 
 brows like a gathering storm." 
 
 Sir, if you were really my uncle, or my father, or my 
 legal guardian, I should have no choice but to obey you ; 
 but the same fate that made me desolate made me free! a 
 freedom that I would not exchange for any gilded slavery V* 
 said Cap, gaily. 
 
 Pish ! tush ! pshaw ! I say I will have no more of this 
 nonsense ! I say I will be obeyed," cried Old Hurricane, 
 striking his cane down upon the floor — '*and in proof of it 
 I order you immediately to go and take off that gala dress 
 and settle yourself down to your studies for the day." 
 
 " Uncle, I will obey you as far as taking off this dress 
 goes, for since you won^t give me a seat in your carriage I 
 shall have to put on my habit and ride Gyp," said Cap, 
 good humoredly. 
 
 What ! ! do you dare to hint that you have the 
 slightest idea of going to the fair against my will ?" 
 
cap's TEICK5 AND PEEILS. 
 
 229 
 
 '^Yes^ sir/' said Cap, gaiiv — sorry it's against your 
 uill^ but cau't help it I not used to being ordered about and 
 don't know how to submit, and so I'm going I''' 
 
 '^Tngrateful girl I actually meditating disobedience on 
 the horse I gave her!" 
 
 '•'Easy noTT, uncle — fair and easy I I did not sell my 
 free will for Gyp I I wouldn't for a thousand Gyps ! He 
 was a free gift !'' said Capitola, beginning an impatient lit- 
 tle dance about the floor. 
 
 Come here to me I Come — here — to — me '.'■' exclaimed 
 the old man, peremptorily, rapping his cane down upon the 
 floor with every syllable. 
 
 Capitola danced up to him, and stood, half smiling, and 
 fingering and arranging the lace of her under-sleeves. 
 
 Listen to me, you witch I Do you intend to obey me 
 or XOT I'" 
 
 ^'SOT I" said Cap, good-humoredly, adjusting her cameo 
 bracelet, and holding up her arm to see its effect. 
 
 " You will not I Then demmy. Miss, I shall know how 
 to make you !*" thundered Old Hurricane, bringing the 
 point of his stick down with a sharp rap. 
 
 Eh criud Capitola, looking up in astonishment. 
 
 ''Yes, Miss, that's what I said 1 ^iake you 
 
 " I shonld like to know how," said Cap, rtturning to 
 her cool good-humor. 
 
 *'You would, wo til d you? Demmy, I'll tell you I I 
 have broken haughtier spirits than yotirs in my life. Wottld 
 you know how 
 
 "Yes,'*' said Capitola, indifferently, still busied with her 
 bracelets. 
 
 Stoop, and I will whisper the mystery." 
 Capitola bent her graceful head to hear. 
 '' With the rod hissed Old Htirricane, maliciously. 
 Capitola sprang up as if she had been shot, wave after 
 wave of blood tiding up in burning blushes oyer neck, face 
 
230 
 
 cap's tricks and perils. 
 
 and forehead, then turning abruptly, she walked off tc the 
 window. 
 
 Old Hurricane, terrified at the effect of his rude, lash 
 words, stood excommunicating himself for having been pro- 
 voked to use them, nor was the next aspect of Capitola one 
 calculated to re-assure his perturbed feelings. 
 
 She turned around ; her face wiis as wliite and still as 
 marble, except her glittering eyes, that, half sheathed under 
 their long lashes, flashed like stilettoes; raising her head 
 and keeping her eyes fixed upon him, with the slow and 
 gliding motion, and the deep and measured voice that 
 scarcely seemed to belong to a denizen of earth, she 
 approached and stood before him, and spoke these words : 
 
 Uncle, in all the sorrows, shames and sufferings of my 
 destitute childhood, no one ever dishonored my person with 
 a blow ; and if ever you should have the misfortune to for- 
 get your manhood so far as to strike me " she paused, 
 
 drew her breath hard between her set teeth, grew a shade 
 whiter, while her dark eyes dilated until a white ring 
 flamed around the iris. 
 
 Oh, you perilous witch, what then V cried Old Hur- 
 icane, in dismay. 
 
 Why then," said Capitola, speaking in a low, deep, 
 and measured tone, and keeping her gaze fixed upon his 
 astonished face, " the — first — time — I — should — find — you 
 — asleep — I — would — take — a — razor — and " 
 
 Cut my throat ! I feel you would you terrible terma- 
 gant V shuddered Old Hurricane. 
 
 " Shave your heard off smicic, smacJc, smoove!" said 
 Cap, bounding off and laughing merrily as she ran out of 
 the room. 
 
 In an iustant she came bounding back, saying: 
 ''Uncle! I will meet you at the fair! au revoir ! au 
 revoir and kissing her hand, she danced away and ran 
 off to her room. 
 
 She'll kill me ! I know she will ! If she don't in one 
 
cap's teicks and perils. 
 
 way she will in another ! Whew ! I'm perspiring at every 
 pore. Wool ! Wool, you scoundrel V exclaimed the old 
 man, jerking the bell-rope as if he would have broken the 
 wires. 
 
 Yes, sir ! here I am, marse V exclaimed that worthy, 
 hastening in, in a state of perturbation, for he dreaded 
 another storm. 
 
 " Wool ! go down to the stables and tell every man 
 there, that if any of them allows a horse to be brought 
 out for the use of Miss Black to-day, I'll flay them alive, 
 and break every bone in their skins ! Away with you !" 
 
 Yes, sir I" cried the shocked and terrified Wool, hur- 
 rying off to convey his panic to the stables. 
 
 Old Hurricane's carriage being ready, he entered it and 
 drove off for the fair. 
 
 Next, the house-servants (with the exception of Pitapat, 
 who was commanded to remain behind and wait upon hei 
 mistress) went off in a wagon. 
 
 When they were all gone, Capitola dressed herself in 
 her riding-habit, and sent Pitapat down to the stables to 
 order one of the grooms to saddle Gyp and bring him up 
 for her. 
 
 JS^ow when the little maid delivered this message, the 
 unfortunate grooms were filled with dismay — they feared 
 their t3Tannical little mistress almost as much as their 
 despotic old master, who in the next change of his capri- 
 cious temper might punch all their heads for crossing the 
 will of his favorite, even though in doing so they had fol- 
 lowed his directions. An immediate private consultation 
 was the consequence, and the result was that the head 
 groom came to Pitapat, told her that he was sorry, but that 
 Miss Black's pony had fallen lame. 
 
 The little maid went back with this answer. 
 
 When she was gone the head groom, calling to his 
 fellows, said : 
 
 *^That young gal ain't a-gwine to be fooled either by 
 
CAP'S TEICKS AND PERILS J 
 
 ole marse or we / She^ll be down here herself nex' minute 
 and have the horse walked out. Now we must have him 
 lame a little. Light a match here, Jem, and 1^11 burn him 
 foot." 
 
 This was immediately done. And sure enough, while 
 poor Gyp was still smarting with his burn, Capitola came, 
 holding up her riding train and hurrying to the scene, and 
 asking indignantly : 
 
 Who dares to say tliat my horse is lame ? Bring him 
 out here this instant tliat I may see him." 
 
 The groom immediately took poor Gyp and led him 
 limping to the presence of his mistress. 
 
 At the sight Capitola was almost ready to cry with grief 
 and indignation. 
 
 He was not lame last eyening. It must have been your 
 carelessness, you good-for-nothing set of loungers ! And if 
 he is not well enough to take me to the fair to-morrow, at 
 least, 1^11 have the whole set of you lamed for life !" she 
 exclaimed, angrily, as she turned off and went up to the 
 house — not caring so much, after all, for her own personal 
 disappointment as for Old Hurricane's triumph. 
 
 Cap's ill-humor did not last long. She soon exchanged 
 her riding-habit for a morning wrapper, and took her 
 needle-work and sat down to sew by the side of Mrs. Condi- 
 ment in the housekeeper's room. 
 
 The day passed as usual, only that just after sunset Mrs. 
 Condiment, as a matter of precaution, wert all over the 
 house securing windows and doors before nightfall. Then, 
 after an early tea, Mrs. Condiment, Capitola and the little 
 maid, Pitapat, gathered around the bright little wood fire, 
 that the chilly Spring evening made necessary in the house- 
 keeper's room. Mrs. Condiment was knitting, Capitola 
 stitching a bosom for the Major's shirts, and Pitapat wind- 
 ing yarn from a reel. 
 
 The conversation of the three females left alone in the 
 
cap's tkicks and perils. 
 
 233 
 
 old house naturally turned upon subjects of fear — ghosts, 
 witches aud robbers. 
 
 Mrs. Condiment had a formidable collection of accred- 
 ited stories of apparitions, warnings, dreams, omens, etc., 
 all true as gospel. There was a haunted house, she said, in 
 their ovrn neighborhood — the Hidden House. It was well 
 authenticated that ever since the mysterious murder of 
 Eugene Le Noir, unaccountable sights and sounds had been 
 seen and heard in and about the dwelling. A traveler, a 
 brother officer of Colonel Le Noir, had slept there once, and 
 ' in the dead waste and middle of the night' had ii A his 
 curtains drawn by a lady, pale and passing fair, dressed in 
 white, with flowing hair, who, as soon as he attempted to 
 speak to her, fled. And it was well known that there was 
 no lady about the premises. 
 
 Another time old Mr. Ezy himself, when out after coons, 
 and coming through the woods near the house, had been 
 attracted by seeing a window near the roof lighted up by a 
 strange blue flame ; drawing near, he saw within the lighted 
 room a female clothed in white, passing and repassing the 
 window. 
 
 Another time, when old Major Warfield was out with his 
 dogs, the chase led him past the haunted house, and as he 
 swept by he caught a glimpse of a pale, wan, sorrowful 
 female face pressed against the window-pane of an upper 
 room, which vanished in an instant. 
 
 But might not that have been some young woman 
 staying at the house asked Capitola. 
 
 **No, my child, it is well ascertained that since the 
 murder of Eugene Le !N"oir and the disappearance of his 
 lovely young widow, no white female has crossed the thres- 
 hold of that fatal house,'' said Mrs. Condiment. 
 
 Disappearance did you say ? Can a lady of condition 
 disappear from a neighborhood and no inquiry be made for 
 her r 
 
 No, my dear, there was inquiry, and it was answere(^ 
 
234 
 
 cap's tricks and perils. 
 
 plausibly that Madame Eugene was insane and sent off to a 
 lunatic asylum ; but there are those who believe that the 
 lovely lady was privately made way Avith/\ whispered Mrs. 
 Condiment. 
 
 " How dread ful ! I did not think such thin(j;s happened 
 in a quiet country neighborhood. Something like that 
 occurred, indeed, in New York, within my own recollection, 
 however, said CapitoLi — who straightway commenced and 
 related tlie story of Mary Rogers, and all other stories of 
 terror that memory supplied her with. 
 
 A •• for poor little Pitapat, she did not presume to enter 
 into the conversation, but with her ball of yarn suspended 
 in her hand, her eyes started until they threatened to burst 
 from their sockets, and her chin dropped until her mouth 
 gaped wide open, she sat and swallowed every word, listen- 
 ing with a thousand-audience power. 
 
 By the time they had frightened themselves pretty thor- 
 oughly the clock struck eleven, and they thought it was 
 time to retire. 
 
 Will you be afraid, Mrs. Condiment asked Capi- 
 
 tola. 
 
 Well, my dear, if I am, I must try to trust in the 
 Lord and overcome it, since it is no use to be afraid. I 
 have fastened up the house well and I have brought in 
 Growler, the bull-dog, to sleep on the mat outside of my 
 bedroom door, so I shall say my prayers and try to go to 
 sleep. I dare say there is no danger, only it seems lone- 
 some like for us three women to be left in this big house 
 by ourselves."^ 
 
 Yes,^^ said Capitola ; ^''but as yow say there is no dan- 
 ger ; and as for me, if it will give you any comfort or cour- 
 age to hear me say it, I am not the least afraid, although I 
 sleep in such a remote room, and have no one but Patty, 
 who, having no more heart than a hare, is not near such a 
 powerful protector as Growler/' 
 
THE PERIL AND THE PLUCK OF CAP. 
 
 235 
 
 And;, bidding her little maid to take up the night-lamp, 
 Ciipitola wished Mrs. Condiment good-night, and left the 
 housekeeper's room. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVL 
 
 THE PERIL AKD THE PLUCK OF CAP. 
 
 " Who that had seen her form so light 
 For swiftness onlj^ turned, 
 Would e'er have thought in a thing so slight, 
 Such a fiery spirit burned ?" 
 
 Very dreary looked the dark and silent passages as they 
 went on towards Capitola's distant chamber. 
 
 When at last they reached it, however, and opened the 
 door, the cheerful scene within quite reanimated Capitola's 
 spirits. The care of her little maid had prepared a blazing 
 wood fire that lighted up the whole room brightly glowing 
 on the crimson curtains of the bed and the crimson hang- 
 ings of the windows opposite, and flashing upon the high 
 mirror between them. 
 
 Capitola having secured her room in every way, stood 
 before her dressing bureau and began to take off her collar, 
 under-sleeves, and other small articles of dress. As she 
 stood there, her mirror, brilliantly lighted up by both lamp 
 and fire, reflected clearly the opposite bed, with its warm 
 crimson curtains, white coverlet, and little Pitapat flitti^ig 
 from post to post, as she tied back the curtains or smoothed 
 the sheets. 
 
 Capitola stood unclasping her bracelets, and smiling to 
 herself at the reflected picture — the comfortable nest in 
 which she was so soon to curl herself up in sleep. While 
 
236 THE PERIL AND THE PLIJCK O^* CAP. 
 
 she was smiling thus, she tilted the mirror downwards a 
 little for her convenience, and looking into it again : 
 
 Horror ! what did she see reflected there ? Under the 
 bed a pair of glaring eyes, watching her from the shadows. 
 
 A sick sensation of fainting came over her ; but master- 
 ing the weakness, she tilted the glass a little lower, until it 
 reflected all the floor, and looked again. 
 
 Horrors on horrors ! there were three stalwart ruffians 
 armed to the teeth, lurking in ambush under her bed. 
 
 The deadly inclination to swoon returned upon her ; 
 but with a heroic effort she controlled her fears, and forced 
 herself to look. 
 
 Yes, there they were ! It was no dream, no illusion, no 
 nightmare — there they were, three powerful desperadoes, 
 armed with bowie knives and revolvers, the nearest one 
 crouching low, and watching her with his wolfish eyes, that 
 shone like phosphorus in the dark. 
 
 What should she do ? The danger was extreme, the 
 necessity of immediate action imminent, the need of per- 
 fect self-control absolute. There was Pitapat flitting about 
 the bed in momentary danger of looking under it. If she 
 should, their lives would not be worth an instant's pur- 
 chase. Their throats would be cut before they should utter 
 a second scream. It was necessary, therefore, to call Pita- 
 pat away from the bed, where her presence was as danger- 
 ous as the proximity of a lighted candle to an open pow- 
 der-barrel. 
 
 But how to trust her voice to do this ? A single qua- 
 ver in^ her tones would betray her consciousness of their 
 presence to the lurking robbers and prove instantly fatal. 
 
 Happily, Capitola's pride in her own courage came to 
 her aid. 
 
 Is it possible,^' she said to herself, that after all, I 
 am a coward and have not even nerve and will enough to 
 command the tones of my own voice. Fie on it ! Cow- 
 ardice is worse than death.'* 
 
THE PERIL AND THE PLUCK OF CAP. 
 
 237 
 
 And summoning all her resolution slie spoke up, 
 glibly : 
 
 Patty, come here and unhook my dress/' 
 
 Yes^ Miss, I will just as soon as I get your slippers 
 from unnerneaf of de bed/' 
 
 I don't want them ! come here this minute and unhook 
 my dress, I can't breathe ! Plague take these country dress- 
 makers, they think the tighter they screw one up the more 
 fashionable they make one appear ! Come, I say, and set 
 my lungs at liberty. " 
 
 " Yes, Miss, in one minute," said Pitapat ; and to Capi- 
 tola's unspeakable horror the little maid stooped down and 
 felt along under the side of the bed, from the head post to 
 the foot post, until she put her hands upon the slippers and 
 brought them forth. Providentially, the poor little wretch 
 had not for an instant put her stupid head under the bed, 
 or used her eyes in the search ! — that was all that saved 
 them from instant massacre. 
 
 " Here dey is, Caterpillar ! 1 knows how yer foots mus' 
 be as much out of breaf wid yer tight gaiters as your waise 
 is long of yer tight dress." 
 
 Unhook me !" said Capitola, tilting up the glass lest 
 the child should see what horrors were reflected there. 
 
 The little maid began to obey, and Capitola tried to think 
 of some plan to escape their imminent danger. To obey 
 the natural impulse — to fl}' from the room would be instantly 
 fatal ! they would be followed and murdered in the hall, 
 before they could possibly give the alarm. And to whom 
 could she give the alarm when there was not another crea- 
 ture in the house except Mrs. Condiment ? 
 
 While she was turning these things over in her mind it 
 occurred to her that man's extremity is God's opportu- 
 nity." Sending up a silent prayer to heaven for help at 
 need, she suddenly thought of a plan — it was full of diffi- 
 culty, uncertainty and peril, affording not one chance in 
 fifty of success, yet the only possible plan of escape. It was 
 
238 
 
 THE PERIL AND THE PLUCK OF CAP. 
 
 to find some plausible pretext for leaving the room without 
 exciting suspicion, which would be fatal. Controlling her 
 tremors, and speaking cheerfully, she asked : 
 
 Patty, do you know whether there were any of those 
 nice quince tarts left from dinner ?" 
 
 " Lor ! yes. Miss, a heap on ^em. Ole Mis' put 'em 
 away in her cubbed/' 
 
 Was there any baked custard left ?" 
 ^'Lors, yes. Miss Caterpillar ! dere was nobody but we- 
 dens three, and think / could eat up all as was left 
 
 I don't know but you might. Well, is there any pear- 
 sauce ?" 
 
 Yes, Miss, a big bowl full." 
 
 Well, I wish you'd go down and bring me up a tart, a 
 cup of custard and a spoonful of pear-sauce. Sitting up so 
 late makes me as hungry as a wolf. Come, Patty, go 
 along." 
 
 'Deed, Miss, Ise 'fraid !" whimpered the little maid. 
 
 " Afraid of what, you goose ?" 
 
 " 'Fraid of meeting a ghose in the dark places." 
 Pooh ! you can take the light with you. /can stay 
 here in the dark well enough." 
 
 ''^Deed, Miss, I'sc 'fraid !" 
 
 ''What with the candle, you blockhead !" 
 
 " Lors, Miss, de candle wouldn't be no 'tection. I'd see 
 de glioses all de plainer wid de candle !" 
 
 '' What a provoking, stupid dolt ! you Ve a proper maid ! 
 afraid to do my bidding ! afraid of ghosts, forsooth. Well ! 
 I suppose I shall have to go myself ; plague on you for an 
 aggravating thing ! There ! take the candle and come 
 along !" said Capitola, in a tone of impatience. 
 
 Pitapat took up the light, and stood ready to accom- 
 pany her mistress. Capitola humming a gay tune, went to 
 the door and unlocked and opened it. 
 
 She wished to withdraw the key, so as to lock it on the 
 other side and secure the robbers, and insure the safety of 
 
THE PERIL AND THE PLUCK OF CAP. 
 
 239 
 
 lier oYy'u retreat ; but to do this without betraying her pur- 
 pose and destroying her own life seemed next to impossible. 
 Still singing gaily she ran over in her mind with the quick- 
 ness of lightning every possible means by which she might 
 withdraw the key silently, or without attracting the atten- 
 tion of the watching robbers. It is difficult to say what 
 she would have done, had not chance instantly favored 
 her. 
 
 At the same moment that she unlocked and opened the 
 door, and held the key in her hand, fearful of withdrawing 
 it, Pitapat, who was hurrying after her with the candle, 
 tripped and fell against a chair, with a great noise, under 
 cover of which Capitola drew forth the key. 
 
 Scolding and pushing Pitapat out before her, she closed 
 the door with a bang ; with the quickness of lightning she 
 slipped the key in the key-hole, and turned the lock — cov- 
 ering the whole with loud and angry railing against poor 
 Pitapat, who silently wondered at this unhappy change in 
 her mistress's temper, but ascribed it all to hunger, mutter- 
 ing to herself : 
 
 '^'Ise offen hern tell how people's cross when dere 
 empty ! Lors knows ef I don't fetch up a whole heaj) o' 
 wittles ebery night for Miss Caterpillar from dis time f orred, 
 so I will. Meed me I" 
 
 So they went on through the long passages and empty 
 rooms, Capitola carefully locking every door behind her, 
 until she got down stairs into the great hall. 
 
 Now, Miss Caterpillar, ef you wants quint tart, an^ 
 pear sass, and baked cusset, an' all dem, you'll jest has to 
 go an' wake Ole Mis' up ; case dey's in her cubbud an' she's 
 got the keys," said Pitapat. 
 
 Never mind, Patty, you follow me," said Capitola, 
 going to the front hall-door^ and beginning to unlock it 
 and take down the bars and withdraw the bolts. 
 
 Lors, Miss, what is yer adoin' of ?" asked the little 
 
240 
 
 THE PERIL AND THE PLUCK OF CAP. 
 
 maid, in wonder, as Capitola opened the door and looked 
 out. 
 
 I am going out a little way, and you must go with 
 
 me.'' 
 
 "'Deed, Miss, Tse 'fraid.'' 
 
 " Very well, then ; stay here in the dark until I come 
 back, bat don't go to my room, because you might meet a 
 ghost on the way !" 
 
 Oh, Miss, I daren't stay here — indeed I daren't !" 
 " Then you'll have to come along with me, and so no 
 more about it," said Capitola, sharply, as she passed out 
 from the door. The poor little maid followed, bemoaning 
 the fate that bound her to so capricious a mistress. 
 
 Capitola drew the key from the hall-door and locked it 
 on the outside. Then clasping her hands and raising her 
 eyes to Heaven, she fervently ejaculated : 
 
 Thank God ! ok^ thank God that we are safe !" 
 Lors, Miss, was we in danger ?" 
 " We are not now, at any rate. Pitapat. Come alon^," 
 said Capitola, hurrying across the lawn towards the open 
 fields. 
 
 Oh, my goodness. Miss, where is yer agoin' of ? — don't 
 less run so fur from home dis lonesome, wicked, onlawful 
 hour o' de night," whimpered the distressed little darkie, 
 fearing that her mistress was certainly crazed. 
 
 Now, then, what are you afraid of ?" asked Capitola, 
 seeing her hold back. 
 
 Lors, Miss, you knows — everybody knows — Brack 
 Dunnel I" 
 
 " Patty, come close, listen to me ; don't scream — Black 
 Donald and his men are up there at the house, in my cham- 
 ber, under the bed," whispered Capitola. 
 
 Pitapat could not scream, for, though her mouth was 
 wide open, her breath was quite gone. Shivering with fear, 
 she kept close to her mistress's heels, as Capitola scampered 
 over the fields. 
 
THE PERIL AXD THE PLUCK OF CAP. 
 
 24:1 
 
 A run of a quarter of a mile brought lliem to the edge 
 of the woods^. where, in its little garden, stood the overseer's 
 house. 
 
 Capitola opened the gate, hurried through the little front 
 yard, and rapped loudly at the door. 
 
 This startled the house dog into furious harking, and 
 brought old Mr. Ezy, with his night-capped head, to the 
 window to see what was the matter. 
 
 It is L Capitola, Mr. Ezy — Black Donald and his men 
 are lurking up at the hcaise," said our young heroine, com- 
 mencing in an eager and hurried voice, and giving the over- 
 seer an account of the manner in which she had discovered 
 the presence of the robbers and left the room withotit alarm- 
 ing them. 
 
 The old man heard with many cries of astonishment, 
 ejaculations of prayer, and exclamations of thanksgiving ! 
 And all the while his head was bobbing in and out of the 
 window, as he pulled on his jDantaloous or buttoned his coat. 
 
 And oh !''^ he said, at last, as he opened the door to 
 Capitola, " how providential that Mr. Herbert Greyson is 
 arrove." 
 
 Herbert Greyson ! Herbert Greyson arrived ! 
 Where is he then V exclaimed Capitola, in surprise and 
 
 Yes, sartin. Mr. Herbert arrove about an hour ago, 
 and thinking you all were abed aud asleejD at the Hall, he 
 just stopped in with us all night. I'll go and see, I doubt 
 if he's gone to bed yet,'^ said Mr. Ezy, withdrauung into 
 the house. 
 
 " Oh, thank Heaven ! thank Heaven I*^ exclaimed Cap- 
 itola, just as the door opened and Herbert sprang forward 
 to meet her with a 
 
 ''Dear Capitola I I am so glad to come to see you/' 
 Dear Herbert I just fancy yon have said that a hun- 
 dred times over, and that I have replied to the same words 
 a hundred times — for we haven't a moment to spare," said 
 
242 
 
 THE PERIL AND THE PLUCK OF CAP. 
 
 Capitola^ shaking his hands, and then, in an eager, vehe- 
 ment manner, recounting her discovery and escape from 
 the robbers whom she had locked up in the house. 
 
 Go, now," she said, in conckision, '^and help Mr. 
 Ezy to rouse up and arm the farm hands, and come imme- 
 diately to the house. I am in an agony lest my prolonged 
 absence should excite the robbers' suspicion of my ruse, 
 and that they should break out and perhaps murder poor 
 Mrs. Condiment. Her situation is awful, if she did but 
 know it ! For the love of mercy, hasten \" 
 
 Not an instant more of time was lost. Mr. Ezy and 
 Herbert Grey son, accompanied by Oapitola and Patty, hur- 
 ried at once to the negro quarters, roused up and armed 
 the men with whatever was at hand, and enjoining them to 
 be as stealthy as cats in their approach, set out swiftly for 
 the Hall, where they soon arrived. 
 
 Take off all your shoes, and walk lightly in your stock- 
 ing feet — do not speak — do not breathe — follow me as silent 
 as death," said Herbert Greyson, as he softly unlocked the 
 front door and entered the house. 
 
 Silently and stealthily they passed through the middle 
 hall, up the broad staircase, and through the long narrow 
 passage and steep stairs that led to Capitola^s remote cham- 
 ber. 
 
 There at the door they paused awhile to listen. 
 All was still within. 
 
 Herbert Greyson unlocked the door, withdrew the key, 
 and opened it and entered the room, followed by all the men. 
 He had scarcely time to close the door and lock it on the 
 inside, and withdraw the key, before the robbers, finding 
 themselves surprised, burst out from their hiding-place and 
 make a rusli for the passage ; but their means of escape had 
 been already cut off by the forethought of Herbert Greyson. 
 
 A sharp conflict ensued. 
 
 Upon first being summoned to surrender, the robbers 
 responded by a hailstorm of bullets from their revolvers. 
 
THE PEEIL AND THE PLUCK OF CAP. 
 
 243 
 
 followed instantly by a charge of boTrie-knives. This was 
 met by an avalanche of blows from pick-axes, pokers, pitch- 
 forks, sledge-hammers, spades and rakes, beneath which the 
 miscreants were quickly beaten down and overwhelmed. 
 
 They were then set upon and bound with strong ropes 
 brought for the purpose by Mr. Ezy. 
 
 When they were thus secured hand and foot, Capitola, 
 who had been a spectator of the whole scene, and exposed 
 as much as any other to the rattle of the bullets, now 
 approached and looked at the vanquished. 
 
 Black Donald certainly was not one of the party, who 
 were no other than our old acquaintances, Hal, Steve, and 
 Dick of the band. 
 
 Each burglar was conveyed to a separate apartment, 
 and a strong guard set over him. 
 
 Then Herbert Greyson who had received a flesh wound 
 in his left arm, returned to the scene of the conflict to look 
 after the wounded. Several of the negroes had received 
 gun-shot wounds of more or less importance. These were 
 speedily attended to. Mrs. Condiment, who had slept 
 securely through all the fight, was now awakened by Capi- 
 tola, and cautiously informed of what had taken place, and 
 assured that all danger was now over. 
 
 The worthy woman, as soon as she recovered from the 
 consternation into which this news had plunged her, at 
 once set about succoring the wounded. Cots and mat- 
 tresses were made up in one of the empty rooms, and 
 bandages and balsams prepared. 
 
 And not until all who had been hurt were made com- 
 fortable, did Herbert G-re3'son throw himself tipon horse- 
 back, and ride off to the countj^-seat to summon the author- 
 ities, and to inform Major Warfield of what had happened. 
 
 ISTo one thought of retiring to bed at Hurricane Hall 
 that night. 
 
 Mrs. Condiment, Capitola and Patty sat watching by 
 the bedsides of the wounded. 
 
244: 
 
 THE PERIL AND THE PLUCK OF CAP. 
 
 Bill Ezy and the men who had escaped injury monnted 
 guard over the prisoners. 
 
 Thus they all remained until sunrise, when the major, 
 attended by the deputy-sheriff and half a dozen constables, 
 arrived. The night ride of several miles had not suflSced 
 to modify the fury into which Old Hurricane had been 
 thrown by the news Herbert Greyson had aroused him from 
 sleep to communicate. He reached Hurricane Hall in a 
 state of excitement that his factotum Wool characterized as 
 boiling." But in the very torrent, tempest, and whirl- 
 wind of his passion," he remembered that to rail at the 
 vanquished, wounded and bound was unmanly, and so he 
 did not trust himself to see or speak to the prisoners. 
 
 They were p}acecl in a wagon, and under a strong escort 
 of constables, were conveyed by the deputy-sheriff to the 
 county seat, where they were securely lodged in jail. 
 
 But Old Hurricane's emotions of one sort or another 
 were a treat to see ! He bemoaned the sufferings of the 
 poor wounded men ; he raved at the danger to which his 
 ''women-kind " had been exposed, and he exulted in the 
 heroism of Capitola, catching her up in his arms and crying 
 out : 
 
 '' Oh, my dear Cap ! my heroine ! my queen ! and it 
 was you against whom I was plotting treason ! ninny that I 
 was ! you that have saved my house from pillage and my 
 people from slaughter ! Oh, Cap, what a jewel you are, 
 my dear." 
 
 To all of which Capitola, extricating her curly head 
 from his embrace, cried only : 
 " Bother." 
 
 Utterly refusing to be made a lioness of, and firmly 
 rejecting the grand triumph. 
 
 The next day Major Warfield went up to the county- 
 Beat to attend the examination of the three burglars, whom 
 he had the satisfaction of seeing fully committed to prison 
 to await their trial at the next term of the criminal court. 
 
SEEKING HIS FORTUNE. 
 
 wliicli would not sit until October ; consequent!)^ the pris- 
 oners had the prospect of remaining in Jail some months, 
 which Old Hurricane declared to be ''some satisfaction.'' 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 SEEKING HIS FORTUNE. 
 
 *' A wide future smiles before him, 
 
 His heart will beat for fame, 
 And he will learu to breathe with love 
 
 The music of a name, 
 Writ on the tablets of his heart 
 
 In characters of flame." — Sargent. 
 
 When" the winter's course of medical lectures at the 
 Washington College was over, late in the Spring, Traverse 
 Rocke returned to Willow Heights. 
 
 The good doctor gave him a glad welcome, congratu- 
 lating him upon his improved appearance and manly bear- 
 ing. 
 
 Clara received him with blushing pleasure, and Marah 
 Rocke with all the mother's love for her only child. 
 
 He quickly fell into the old pleasant routine of his 
 country life ; resumed his arduous studies in the doctor's 
 office, his work in the flower-garden, and his morning rides 
 and evening talk with the doctor's lovely child. 
 
 Not the least obstacle was set in the way of his associa- 
 tion with Clara ; yet Traverse, grown stronger and wiser 
 than his years would seem to promise, controlled both his 
 feelings and his actions, and never departed from the most 
 respectful reserve, or suffered himself to be drawn into 
 that dangerous familiarity to which their constant com- 
 panionship might tempt him. 
 
246 
 
 SEEKING HIS FOETUNE. 
 
 Marcih Kocke, with maternal pride, witnessed his con- 
 stant self-control, and encouraged him to persevere. 
 Often in the enthusiasm of her heart, when they were 
 alone, she would throw her arm around him, and push the 
 dark clustering curls from his fine forehead, and gazing 
 fondly on his face, exclaim : 
 
 "^'That is my noble-hearted boy. Oh, Traverse, God 
 will bless you. He only tries you now to strengthen you/^ 
 
 Traverse always understood these vague words, and 
 and would return her embrace with all his boyish ardor, 
 and say : 
 
 God does bless me now, mother. He blesses me so 
 much, in so many, many ways, that I should be worse than 
 a heathen not to be willing to bear cheerfully one trial." 
 
 And so Traverse vv^ould ^^reck his own read," and culti- 
 vate cheerful gratitude as a duty to God and man. 
 
 Clara, also, now, with her feminine intuition, compre- 
 hended her reserved lover, honored his motives, and rested 
 satisfied with being so deeply loved, trusting all their un- 
 known future to heaven. 
 
 The doctor^s appreciation and esteem for Traverse in- 
 creased with every new unfolding of the youth's heart and 
 intellect, and never did master take more j^ains with a favor- 
 ite pupil, or father with a beloved son, than did the doctor 
 to push Traverse on in his profession. The improvement 
 of the youth was truly surprising. 
 
 Thus passed the summer in healthful alternation of study 
 and p.xercise. 
 
 When the season waned, late in the autumn, he went a 
 second time to Washington to attend the winter^s course of 
 lectures at the Medical College. 
 
 The doctor gave him letters recommending him as a 
 young man of extraordinary talents and of excellent moral 
 character, to the particular attention of several of the most 
 eminent professors. 
 
 His mother bore this second parting with more cheerful- 
 
SEEKING HIS FOETCno:. 
 
 247 
 
 ness^ especially as tlie separation Tvas enlivened by frequent 
 lettei's from Traverse, full of the history of the present and 
 the hopes of the future. 
 
 The doctor did not forget from time to time to jog the 
 memories of his friends, the professors of the medical col- 
 lege, that they might afiord his protegee every facility and 
 assistance in the prosecution of his studies. 
 
 Towards spring Traverse vrote to his friends that his 
 hopes were sar.gaine of obtaining his diploma at the examin- 
 ation to be held at the end of the sessiou. And when Tra- 
 verse expressed this hope, they who knew him so well felt 
 assured that he had made no vain boast. 
 
 And so it proved, for early in April Traverse Eocke 
 returned home with a diploma in his pocket. 
 
 Sincere was the joyful sympathy that met him. 
 
 The doctor shook him cordially by the hands, declaring 
 that he was the first student he ever knew to get his diploma 
 at the end of only three years sttidy. 
 
 Clara, amid smiles and blushes, congratttlated him. 
 
 And Mrs. Rocke, as soon as she had him alone, threw 
 her arms around his neck and wept for joy. 
 
 A few days Traverse gave up solely to enjoyment of his 
 friends' society, and then growing restless, he began to talk 
 of opening an oflB.ce and hanging out a sign in Staunton, 
 
 He consulted the doctor upon this subject. The good 
 doctor heard him out, and then caressing his own chin and 
 looking over the tops of his spectacles, with good-humored 
 satire, he said : 
 
 'Oly dear boy, you have confidence enough in me by 
 this time to bear that I should speak plainly to you Y' 
 
 " Oh, Doctor Day, jzist say ichatever you Ul^e," replied 
 the young man, fervently. 
 
 Very well, then, I shall speak very plainly — to wit : 
 you'll never succeed in Staunton — no, not if you had the 
 genius of Galen and Esculapius, Abernethj, and Benjamin 
 Rush put together. 
 
248 SEEKING HIS FORTUNE. 
 
 My dear sir, why 
 '^Because, my son, it is written that ra prophet hath no 
 honor in his own city !^ Of our blessed Lord and Savior 
 the contemptuous Jews said, * Is not this Jesus, the carpen- 
 ter's son 
 
 " Ob, I understand you, sir," said Traverse, with a deep 
 bkish, you mean that the people who used eome years 
 ago to employ me to put in their coal and s;iw their wood 
 and run their errands, will never trust me to look at their 
 tongues and feel their pulses and write prescriptions." 
 
 That's it, my boy ; you've defined the difficulty. And 
 now I'll tell you what you are to do, Traverse — you must 
 go to the West, my lad." 
 
 Go to the West, sir ! leave my mother ! leave you ! 
 
 leave " 
 
 He hesitated, and blushed. 
 
 Clara? Yes, my son ; you must go to the West, 
 
 leave your mother, leave me and leave Clara ; it will be 
 best for all parties. We managed to live without our lad, 
 when he was away at his studies in Washington, and we 
 will try to dispense with him longer if it be for his own 
 good." 
 
 ''Ah, sir, but then absence had a limitation, and the 
 hope of return sweetened every day that passed ; but if I 
 go to the West to settle it will be without the remotest 
 hope of returning !" 
 
 '' i^ot so, my boy — not so ; for just as soon as Doctor 
 Kocke has established himself in some thriving Western 
 town, and obtained a good practice, gained a higii reputa- 
 tion and made himself a home — which, as he is a fast young 
 man in the best sense of the phrase, he can do in a very fev/ 
 years — he may come back here and carry to his Western 
 home — his mother," said the doctor, with a mischievous 
 twinkle of his eyes. 
 
 '' Doctor Day, I owe you more than a son's honor and 
 
SEEKING HIS FORTUNE. 
 
 249 
 
 obedience. I will go wherever you think it best tliAt I 
 should/'' said Traverse^ earnestly. 
 
 1^0 more than I expected from all my previous knowl- 
 edge of you. Traverse. And I, on my part, will give you 
 only such counsel as I should give my own son, had Heaven 
 blessed me with one. And now. Traverse, there is no bet- 
 ter season for emigration than the spring, and no better 
 point to stay and make observations at then St. Louis. Of 
 course, the place of your final destination must be left for 
 future consideration. I have influential friends at St. Louis 
 to whom I will give you letters.^' 
 
 *^Dear sir, to have matured this plan so well you must 
 have been kindly thinking of my future this long time 
 past,^' said Traverse, gratefully. 
 
 Of course ! of course ! Who has a better right ? 
 Now go and break this plan to your mother." 
 
 Traverse pressed the doctor^s hand and went to seek his 
 mother. He found her in his room busy among his cloth- 
 ing. He begged her to stop and sit down while he talked 
 to her. And when she had done so, he told her the doctor's 
 plan. He had almost feared that his mother would meet 
 this proposition with sighs and tears. 
 
 To his surprise and pleasure, Mrs. Kocke received the 
 news with an encouraging smile, telling him that the doctor 
 had long prepared her to expect that her boy would very 
 properly go and establish himself in the West ; that she 
 should correspond wath him frequently, and as soon as he 
 should be settled, come and keep house for him. 
 
 Finally she said that, anticipating this emergency, she 
 had, during her three years' residence beneath the doctor's 
 roof, saved three hundred dollars, which she should give 
 her boy to start with. 
 
 The tears rushed to the young man's eyes. 
 For your dear sake, mother, only for yoiirs, may they 
 become three hundred tlionsand in my hands/' he exclaimed. 
 
260 
 
 SEEKING HIS FORTUNE. 
 
 Preparations were immediately commenced for Traversers 
 journey. 
 
 As before^ Clara gladly gave lier aid in getting ready 
 his wardrobe. As he was about to make his debut as a 
 young physician in a strange city, his mother was anxious 
 that his dress should be faultless, and therefore put the 
 most delicate needle-work upon all the little articles of his 
 outfit. Clara volunteered to mark them all. And one 
 day, when Traverse happened to be alone with his mother, 
 she showed him his handkerchiefs, collars and linen beau- 
 tifully marked in minute embroidered letters. 
 
 ^^I suppose, Traverse, that you being a young man, 
 cannot appreciate the exquisite beauty of this work,'' she 
 said. 
 
 " Indeed, but I can, mother. I did not sit by your side 
 so many years while you worked without knowing some- 
 thing about it. This is wonderful. The golden thread 
 with which the letters are embroidered is finer than the 
 finest silk I ever saw," said Traverse, admiringly, to please 
 his mother, whom he supposed to be the embroideress. 
 
 ^^ Well they may be,'' said Mrs. Eocke, ^'for that 
 golden thread of which you speak is Clara's golden hair, 
 which she herself has drawn out and threaded her needle 
 with, and worked into the letters of your name." 
 
 Traverse suddenly looked up, his color went and came, 
 he had no words to reply. 
 
 '■'I told you because I thought it would give you pleas- 
 ure to know it, and that it would be a comfort to you when 
 you are far away from us ; for Traverse, I hope that by this 
 time you have grown strong and -wise enough to have 
 conquered yourself, and to enjoy dear Clara's friendship 
 aright !" 
 
 Mother," he said, sorrowfully, and then his voice 
 broke down, and without another word he turned and left 
 the room. 
 
 To feel how deeply and hopelessly he loved the doctor's 
 
SEEKING HIS FORTUNE. 
 
 251 
 
 sweet daughter — to feel sure that she perceived and re- 
 turned his dumb, despairing love — and to know that duty, 
 gratitude, honor commanded him to be silent^ to tear him- 
 self away from her and make no sign was a trial almost too 
 great for the young heart's integrity. Scarcely could he 
 prevent the internal struggle betraying itself upon his coun- 
 tenance. As the time drew near for his departure self- 
 control grew difficult and almost impossible. Even Clara 
 lost her joyous spirits^, and despite all her efforts to be 
 cheerful, grew so pensive that her father, without seemiug 
 to understand the cause, gaily rallied her upon her dejec- 
 tion. 
 
 Traverse understood it and almost longed for the day 
 to come when he should leave this scene of his love and his 
 sore trial. 
 
 One afternoon, a few days before he was to start. Doctor 
 Day sent for Traverse to come to him in his study. And 
 as soon as they were seated comfortably together at the 
 table, the doctor put into the young mane's Land a well- 
 filled pocket-book ; and when Traverse, with a deep and 
 painful blush, would liave given it back, he forced it upon 
 him with the old argument : 
 
 It is only a loan, my boy. ]\Ioney put out at interest. 
 Capital well and satisfactorily invested. And now listen 
 to me. I am about to speak to you of that which is much 
 nearer your heart — ^' 
 
 Traverse became painfully embarrassed. 
 Traverse,'^ resumed the doctor, I have grown to 
 love you as a son, and to esteem you as a man. I have 
 lived long enough to value solid integrity far beyond wealth 
 or birth, and when that integrity is adorned and enriched 
 by high talents, it forms a character of excellence not often 
 met vith in this world. I have proved both your integrity 
 and your talents. Traverse, and I am more than satisfied 
 with you ; I am proud of you my boy.'^ 
 
 Traverse bowed deeply, but still blushed. 
 
252 
 
 SEEKING HIS FOETUNE. 
 
 'You will wonder/^ continued the doctor, to what all 
 this talk tends. I will tell you. Traverse, I have long 
 known your unspoken love for Clara, and I have honored 
 your scruples in keeping silent, when silence must have 
 been so painful. Your trial is now over, my son. Go and 
 open for yourself an honorable career in the profession you 
 have chosen and mastered, and return, and Clara shall bo 
 yours. 
 
 Traverse, overwhelmed with surprise and joy at this 
 incredible good fortune, seized the doctor's hand, and in 
 wild and incolierent language tried to express his gratitude. 
 
 There, there, said the doctor, ''go and tell Clara all 
 this, and bring the roses back to her cheeks, and then your 
 parting will be the happier for this hope before you." 
 
 "I must speak. I must speak first," said the young 
 man, in a choking voice. " I must tell you some little of 
 the deep gratitude I feel for you, sir. 0 ! when I forget 
 all that you have done for me, ' may my right hand forget 
 her cunning !' May God and man forget me ! Doctor Day, 
 the Lord helping me for your good sake, I will be all that 
 you have prophesied and hope and expect of me. For your 
 sake, for Clara's and my mother's, I will bend every power 
 of my mind, soul and body to attain the eminence you desire 
 for me. In a word, the Lord giving me grace, I will become 
 worthy of being your son and Clara's husband." 
 
 " There, there, my dear boy, go and tell Clara all that," 
 said the doctor, pressing the young man's hand and dis- 
 missing him. 
 
 Traverse went immediately to seek Clara, whom he found 
 sitting alone in the parlor. 
 
 She was bending over some delicate needlework, that 
 Traverse knew by instinct was intended for himself. 
 
 Now, had Traverse foreseen from the first the success of 
 his love, there might possibly have been the usual shyness 
 and hesitation in declaring himself to the object of his 
 affection. But altliough he and Clara had long deeply and 
 
SEEKING HIS FORTUNE. 
 
 253 
 
 silently lo^ed and understood each other, yet neither had 
 dared to hope for so improbable an event as the doctor^s 
 favoring their attachment, and now, under the exciting 
 influence of the surprise, joy and gratitude with which the 
 doctor's magnanimity had filled his heart. Traverse forgot 
 all shyness and hesitation, and stepping quickly to Clara's 
 side, and dropping gently upon one knee, he took her 
 hand, and bowing his head upon it, said : 
 
 Clara, my own, own Clara ! your dear father has 
 given me leave to tell you at last how much and how long I 
 have loved you,'' and then he arose and sat down beside 
 her. 
 
 The blush deepened upon Clara's cheek, tears filled her 
 eyes, and her voice trembled as she murmured : 
 
 Heaven bless my dear father! He is unlike every 
 other man on earth." 
 
 ^*0h, he is! he is !" said Traverse, fervently, — and, 
 dear Clara, never did a man strive so hard for wealth, fame 
 or glory, as I shall strive to become ^ worthy to be called his 
 son.'" 
 
 Do Traverse, do dear Traverse. I want you to honor 
 even his very highest drafts upon your moral and intellectual 
 capacities. I know you are * worthy ' of his high regard 
 now, else he never would have chosen you as his son — but I 
 am ambitious for you Traverse. I would have your motto 
 be — Excelsior ! higher !" said the doctor's daughter. 
 
 And you, dear Clara, may I venture to hope that you 
 do not disapprove of your father's choice, or reject the 
 hand that he permits me to offer you ?" said Traverse ; for 
 though he understood Clara well enough, yet like all hon- 
 est men, he wanted some definite and practical engage- 
 ment. 
 
 There is my hand, my heart was yours long ago,'^ 
 murmured the maiden in a tremulous voice. 
 
 He took and pressed that white hand to his heart, 
 looked hesitatingly and pleadingly in her face for an 
 
254 
 
 SEEKING HIS FORTUNE. 
 
 instant, and then drawing her gently to his bosom, sealed 
 their betrothal on her pure lips. 
 
 Then they sat side by side, and hand in hand, in a 
 sweet silence for a few moments, and then Clara said : 
 
 You have not told your mother yet. Go and tell her. 
 Traverse ; it will make her so happy. And, Traverse, I 
 will be a daughter to her, while you are gone. Tell her 
 that, too.^' 
 
 " Dear girl, you have always been as kind and loving to 
 my mother as it was possible to be — how can you ever be 
 more so than you have been V 
 
 I shall find a way,"*"* smiled Clara. 
 
 Again he pressed her hand to liis heart and to his lips, 
 and left the room to find his mother. He had a search 
 before he discovered her at last in the drawing-room, 
 arranging it for their evening fireside gathering. 
 
 Come, mother, and sit down by me on this sofa, for 
 I have glorious tidings for your ear. Dear Clara sent me 
 from her own side to tell you." 
 
 " Ah ! still thinking, always ^thinking, madly thinking 
 of the doctor^s daughter. Poor, poor boy said Mrs. 
 Kocke. 
 
 Yes ! and always intend to think of her to the very end 
 of my life, and beyond, if possible. But come, dear 
 mother, and hear me explain," said Traverse ; and as soon 
 as Mrs. Eocke had taken the indicated seat, Traverse 
 commenced and related to her the substance of the conver- 
 sation between the doctor and himself in the library, in 
 which the former authorized his addresses to his daughter, 
 and also his own subsequent explanation and engagement 
 with Chn^ra. 
 
 Mrs. Eocke listened to all this, in unbroken silence, and 
 when, at length. Traverse had concluded his story, she 
 clasped her hands and raised her eyes, uttering fervent 
 thanksgivings to the fountain of all mercies. 
 
 You do not congratulate me, dear mother/' 
 
SEEKING HIS FORTUNE. 
 
 255 
 
 Oh, Traverse ! I am returning thanks to Heaven on 
 your behalf. Oh, my son ! my son ! but that such things 
 as these are Providential, I should tremble to see you so 
 happy. So I will not presume to congratulate. I will pray 
 for you.^^ 
 
 Dear mother, you have suffered so much in your life, 
 that you are incredulous of happiness. Be more hopeful 
 and confiding. The Bible says: * There remaineth now 
 these three. Faith, Hope and Charity, but the greatest of 
 all is Charity."' You have Charity enough, dear mother ; 
 try to have more Faith and Hope, and you will be happier. 
 And look ; there is Clara coming this way ; she does not 
 know that we are here. I will gall her. Dear Clara, come 
 in and convince my mother ; she will not believe in our 
 happiness,^^ said Traverse, going to the door and leading his 
 blushing and smiling betrothed into the room. 
 
 *^It maybe that Mrs. Eocke does not want me for a 
 daughter-in-law,^^ said Clara, archly, as she approached and 
 put her hand in that of Marah. 
 
 Not want you, my own darling, said Marah Eocke, 
 putting her arm around Clara^s waist, and drawing her to 
 her bosom ; not want you. You know I am just as much 
 in love with you as Traverse himself can be. And I have 
 longed for you, my sweet, longed for you as an unattain- 
 able blessing, ever since that day when Traverse first left 
 us and you came and laid your bright head on my bosom 
 and wept with me." 
 
 '^And now if we must cry a little when Traverse leaves 
 us, we can go and take comfort in being miserable 
 together, with a better understanding of our relations," 
 said Clara, with an arch smile. 
 
 Where are you all ? — Where is everybody — that I am 
 left wandering about the lonely house like a poor ghost in 
 Hades T' said the doctor's cheerful voice in the passage 
 without. 
 
 Here father ! here we are ! a family party wanting 
 
256 
 
 A PANIC IN THE OUTLAw's DEN. 
 
 only you to complete it" answered his daughter, springing 
 to meet him. 
 
 The doctor came in smiling, pressed his daughter to his 
 bosom, shook Traverse cordially by the hand, and kissed 
 Marah Eocke's cheek. That was his way of congratulating 
 himself and all others, on the betrothal. 
 
 The evening was passed in unalloyed happiness. 
 
 Let them enjoy it. It was their last of comfort — that 
 bright evening. 
 
 Over that household was already gathering a cloud, 
 heavy and dark with calamity — calamity that must have 
 overwhelmed the stability of any faith which was not as 
 theirs was — stayed upon God. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 A PAKIO m THE outlaw's DEN. 
 
 " Imagination frames events unknown, 
 In wild, fantastic shapes of hideous ruin, 
 And what it fears creates !" — Hannah More. 
 
 "Dark doubt and fears, o'er other spirits lower, 
 But touch not his, who every waking hour. 
 Has one fixed hope and always feels its power." 
 
 — Crabbe. 
 
 Upon the very same night, that the three robbers were 
 surprised and captured by the presence of mind of Capitola 
 at Hurricane Hall, Black Donald, disguised as a negro, was 
 lurking in the woods around the mansion, waiting for tlie 
 C3ming of the three men with their prize. 
 
 But as hour after hour passed and they came not, the 
 desperado began heartily to curse their sloth — for to no other 
 
A PANIC m TIl-E outlaw's DEN. 257 
 
 cause was he enabled to attribute the delay, as he knew the 
 house, the destined scene of the outrage, to be deserted by 
 all for the night, except by the three helpless females. 
 
 As night waned and morning began to dawn in the East, 
 the chief grew seriously uneasy, at the prolonged absence of 
 his agents — a circumstance that he could only account for 
 upon the absurd hypothesis that those stupid brutes had 
 suffered themselves to be overtaken by sleep in their ambus- 
 cade. 
 
 While he was cursing their inefficiency, and regretting 
 that he had not himself made one of the party, he wandered 
 in his restlessness to another part of the woods, on the 
 opposite side of the house. 
 
 He had not been long here before his attention was 
 arrested by the trampling of approaching horsemen. He 
 withdrew into the shade of the thicket and listened while 
 the travelers went by. 
 
 The party proved to consist of Old Hurricane, Herbert 
 Greyson, and the sheriff's officers, on their way from the 
 town to Hurricane Hall, to take the captured burglars into 
 custody. And Black Donald, by listening attentively, 
 gathered enough from their conversation to know that his 
 men had been discovered and captured by the heroism of 
 Capitola. 
 
 ''That girl again V' muttered Black Donald to himself. 
 ^[ She is doomed to be my destruction, or I hers. Our fates 
 are evidently connected ! Poor Steve ! poor Dick ! poor 
 Hal ! Little did I think that your devotion to your captain 
 
 would carry you into the very jaws of death ! Pshaw ! 
 
 hang it ! let boys and women w^hine. I must act \" 
 
 And with this resolution Black Donald dogged the path 
 of the horsemen until he had reached that parfc of the 
 woods skirting the road opposite the park gate. Here he 
 hid himself in the bushes to watch events. Soon from his 
 hiding-place he saw the wagon approach, containing the 
 three men, heavily iroBJ^d and escorted by a strong guard 
 
258 
 
 A PANIC IN THE OUTLAV/'s DEN. 
 
 of coiiiity constables and plantation negroes, all well avmed, 
 and nnder the command of the Sheriff and Herbert Grey- 
 son. 
 
 Ha, ha, ha ! they must dread an attempt on our part 
 of rescue, or they never would think of putting such a 
 formidable guard over three wounded and handcuffed 
 men laughed Black Donald to himself. 
 
 ''Courage, my boys,^^ he muttered. ''Your chief will 
 free you from prison or share your captivity. I wish I 
 could trumpet that into your ears at this moment, but 
 prudence, ' the better part of valor, ^ forbids, for the same 
 words that would encourage you would warn your captors 
 into greater vigilance. And so saying Black Donald let 
 the procession pass, and then made tracks for his retreat. 
 
 It w^as broad daylight when he reached the Old Inn. 
 The robbers, worn out with waiting and watching for the 
 captain and his men with the fair prize, had thrown them- 
 selves down upon the kitchen floor, and now lay in every 
 sort of awkward attitude, stretcbeid out or doubled up in 
 heavy sleep. The old beldame had disappeared — doubtless 
 she had long since sought her night lair. 
 
 Taking a poker from the corner of the fire-place. Black 
 Donald went around among the sleeping robbers and stirred 
 them up, with vigorous punches in the ribs and cries of : 
 
 "Wake up ! dolts ! blockheads I wake up ! You rest on 
 a volcano about to break out ! You sleep over a mine 
 about to be exploded ! Wake up, sluggards that you are I 
 Your town is taken ! Your castle is stormed ! The enemy 
 is at your throats with drawn swords ! Ah, brutes ! will 
 you wake then ! oi' shall I have to lay it on harder ?" 
 What the demon 
 
 '^ How now r 
 
 " What^s this T' were some of the ejaculations of the 
 men as they slowly and sulkily roused themselves from their 
 heavy slumber. 
 
 The house is on fire ; the ship's sinking ; the cars have 
 
S59 
 
 run oiJ the track ; the boiler's burst ; and the deviFs to 
 pay/"' cried Bhick Donald^ accompanying his words with 
 vigorous punches of the poker into the ribs of the recumbent 
 men. 
 
 What the fonl fiend ails you^, Captain ? Have you 
 got the girl, and drunk too much liquor on your wedding 
 night asked one of the men. 
 
 ^0, Mack, I have not got the girl. On the contrary, 
 the girl, blame her, has got three of my best men in custody. 
 In one word, Hal, Dick and Steve are safely lodged in the 
 county jail.''^ 
 
 '^Perdition ? 
 My eye V 
 
 " Here's a go 1" were the simultaneous exclamations of 
 the men as they sprung upon their feet. 
 
 ^*'In the fiend^s name, Captain, tell us all about it,^^ said 
 Mac, anxiously. 
 
 " I have no time to talk much, nor you to tarry long. 
 It was all along of that blamed witch, Capitola," said 
 Black Donald, who then gave a rapid account of the advent- 
 ure, and the manner in which Capitola entrapped and cap- 
 tured the burglars, together with the way in which he him- 
 self came by the information. 
 
 I declare one can't help liking that girl. I should 
 admire her even if she should put a rope about my neck,'-* 
 said Mac. 
 
 She's a Iriclc,^' said another, with emphasis. 
 " She's some punkins, now, I tell you,'' assented a third. 
 ^'I am more than ever resolved to get her into my 
 possession. But in the meantime, lads, we must eyacuate 
 the old inn ; it is getting too hot to hold us." 
 '^Aye, Captain !" 
 Aye, lads ! listen ! we must talk fast, and act 
 promptly ! the poor fellows up there in Jail are game, I 
 know. They would not willingly peach : but they are 
 
i60 
 
 A PANIC IN THK OUTLAW'S DEM. 
 
 badly wounded : if one of them should have to die, and be 
 blessed with a psalm-singing parson to attend him — no 
 knowing what he may be persuaded to confess. Therefore, 
 let us quickly decide upon some new rendezvous that will 
 be unsuspected, even by our poor caged birds. If any of 
 you have any place in your eye, speak. 
 
 We would l ather hear what you have to say. Captain,^' 
 said Mac ; and all the rest assented. 
 
 Well, then, you all know the Devil's Punch Bowl.^^ 
 
 Aye, do we. Captain. 
 "Well, what you do not know ! what nobody knows but 
 myself is this — that about half way down that awful chasm, 
 in the side of the rock, is a hole, concealed by a clump of 
 evergreens ; that hole is the entrance to a cavern of enor- 
 mous extent — let that be our next rendezvous. And now, 
 avaunt ! fly ! scatter ! and meet me in the cavern to-night, 
 at the usual hour. Listen — carry away all our arms, amu- 
 nition, disguises, and provisions — so that no vestige of our 
 presence may be left behind. As for dummy, if tlicy can 
 make her speak, the cutting out of her tongue was lost 
 labor !— Vanish \" 
 
 But our pals in prison," said Mac. 
 ^^They shall be my care. We must lie low for a few 
 days, so as to put the authorities off their guard ; then if 
 our pals recover from their wounds, and have proved game 
 against church and State, I shall know what measures to 
 take for their deliverance. N'o more talk now ! prepare for 
 your flitting and fly !" 
 
 The captain^'s orders were obeyed, and within two hours 
 from that time no vestige of the robbers' presence remained 
 in the deserted old inn. If any sheriff's officer had come 
 there with a search-warrant, he would have found nothing 
 suspicious ; he would have seen only a poor old dumb 
 woman, busy at her spinning-wheel ; and if he had ques- 
 tioned her, would only have got smiles and shakes of the 
 head for an answer ; or the exhibition of coarse country 
 
A PA^IQ IN' THE l lTLAVT S !>/. 
 
 gloves and stockings of her own knitting, which she wonlcl^ 
 in dnmb show^. beg him to pnrchase. 
 
 Days r/:d - - jks ^-f.ssed, and the three imprisoned burg- 
 lars laiii:;:-heA in y.ii ::-ch in a separate celh 
 
 Bitterly each in h- . . _ : comphained of the leader that 
 had. apparenriv. deserted tuem in their direst ii::-' - -d 
 if rjeihier betrayed him, it was probably beca;:-_- t.. _ -A 
 not do so without deeply criminating themsrlve^, and for 
 no better motive. 
 
 There is said to be '"honor amoDg thieves.'^ It i:, on 
 the face of it, untrue : there can be neither honor, confi- 
 dence nor safety among men whose profession is crime. 
 The burglars, therefore, had no confidence in their leader, 
 and secretly and bitterly reproached him for his desertion 
 of them. 
 
 iMeanwhile the annual camp-meeting season approached. 
 It was rumored that a camp-meeting would be held m the 
 wooded vale below Tip Top, and soon this report was ccm- 
 firmed by announcements in all the county papers. And 
 all who intended to take part in the religious festivLil or 
 have a tent on the ground, began to prepare provisions — 
 cooking meat and poultry, bakiug bread, cakes, pies, etc. 
 And preachers from all parts of the country were flocking 
 into the village to be on the spjt for the commencement. 
 
 iMrs. Condiment, though a member of another chtirch, 
 loved ill her soul the religious excitement — *' the v-arming 
 up,'"^ as she called it, to be had at the camp-meeting ! But 
 never in the whole course of her life had she taken part in 
 one, except so far as riding to the preaching in the morning 
 and returniug home in the evening. 
 
 But Capitola, who was as usual in the interval between 
 her adventures bored half to death with the monotony of 
 her life at iHurricane iHall, — and praying not against but 
 wishing for — fire, floods or thieves, or anything to stir her 
 stagnant blood, heard of the camp-meeting, and expressed 
 a wish to have a tent on the camp ground and remain there 
 
S62 
 
 from the beginuing to the end, to see all that was to be 
 seen ; hear all that was to be heard ; feel all that was to be 
 felt ; and learn all that was to be known. 
 
 And as Capitola, ever since her victory over the burg- 
 lars, had been the queen regnant of Hurricane Hall, she 
 had only to express this wish to have it carried into immedi- 
 ate effect. 
 
 Old Hurricane himself went up to Tip Top and pur- 
 chased the canvas and set two men to work under his own 
 immediate direction to make the tent. 
 
 And as Major Warfield's campaigning experience was 
 very valuable here, it turned out that the Hurricane Hall 
 tent was the largest and best on the camp ground. As soon 
 as it was set up under the shade of a grove of oak trees, a 
 wagon from Hurricane Hall conveyed to the spot the simple 
 and necessary furniture, cooking materials and provisions. 
 And the same morning the family carriage, driven by Wool, 
 brought out Major Warfield, Mrs. Condiment, Oapitola and 
 her little maid Patty. 
 
 The large tent was divided into two compartments — one 
 for Major Warfield and his man Wool — the otlier for Mrs. 
 Condiment, Capitola and Patty. 
 
 As the family party stepped out of the carriage, the 
 novelty, freshness and beauty of the scene called forth a 
 simultaneous burst of admiration. The little snoAv-white 
 tents were dotted here and there tlirough the woods, in 
 beautiful contrast with the greenness of the foliage ; groups 
 of well-dressed and cheerful-looking men, women and child- 
 ren were walking about ; over all smiled a morning sky of 
 cloudless siDlendor. The preachings and the prayer-meet- 
 ings had not yet commenced. Indeed, many of the breth- 
 ren were hard at work in an extensive clearing, setting up 
 a rude pulpit, and arranging rough benches to accommodate 
 the women and children of the camp congregation. 
 
 Our party went into their tent, delighted with the 
 novelty of the whole thing, though Old Hurricane declared 
 
A PANIC IN THE OUTLAW's DEN. 
 
 263 
 
 that it was nothing new to his experience, but reminded 
 him strongly of his campaigning days. 
 
 Wool assented, saying that the only difference was, there 
 were no ladies in the old military camp. 
 
 I have neither time or space to give a full account of this 
 camp-meeting. The services commenced the same evening. 
 There were preachers of more or less fervor of piety and 
 eloquence of utterance. Old Christians had their first 
 love " revived ; young ones found their zeal kindled, and 
 sinners were awakened to a sense of their sin and danger. 
 Every Christian there said the season had been a good one. 
 
 In the height of the religious enthusiasm, there appeared 
 a new preacher in the field. He seemed a man considerably 
 past middle age, and broken down with sickness or sorrow. 
 His figure was tall, thin and stooping, his hair white as 
 snow, his face pale and emaciated, his movements slow and 
 feeble, and his voice low and unsteady. He wore a solemn 
 suit of black, that made his thin form seem of skeleton pro- 
 portions, a snow-white neckcloth, and a pair of great round 
 iron-rimmed spectacles that added nothing to his good * 
 looks. 
 
 Yet this old, sickly and feeble man seemed one of fervent 
 piety and of burning eloquence. -Every one sought his 
 society ; and when it was known that Father Gray was to 
 hold forth, the whole camp congregation turned out to hear 
 him. 
 
 It must not be supposed that in the midst of this great 
 revival, those poor '^'sinners above all sinners," the burglars 
 imprisoned in the neighboring town were forgotten ; no, 
 they were remembered, prayed for, visited, and cxhoi-ted. 
 And no one took more interest in the fate of these men than 
 good Mrs. Condiment, who, having seen them all on that 
 great night at Hurricane Hall, and having with her own 
 kind hands plastered their heads and given them possets, 
 could not drive out of her heart a certain compassion for 
 their miseries. 
 
264 
 
 A PANIC IN THE OL^LAw's DEN. 
 
 No one either admired Father Gray more than did the 
 little old housekeeper of Hurricane Hall, and as her table 
 and her accommodations were the best on the camp-ground, 
 she often invited and pressed good Father Gray to rest and 
 refresh himself in her tent. And the old man, though a 
 severe ascetic, yielded to her repeated solicitations, until at 
 length he seemed to live there altogether. 
 
 One day Mrs. Condiment, being seriously exercised upon 
 the subject of the imprisoned men, said to Father Gray, who 
 was reposing himself in the tent : 
 
 '^Father Gray, I wished to speak to you, sir, upon the 
 subject of those poor, wretched men who are to be tried for 
 their lives at the next term of the criminal court. Our 
 ministers have all been to see them, and talked to them, 
 not one of the number can make the least impression on 
 them, or bring them to any sense of their awful condi- 
 tion/' 
 
 Ah ! that is dreadful, sighed the aged mam 
 
 Yes, dreadful, Father Gray. N"ow I thought if yoio 
 
 would only visit them, you could surely bring them to rea- 
 
 son.'' 
 
 My dear friend, I would v/illingly do so, but I must 
 confess to you a weakness, a great weakness of the flesh — I 
 have a natural shrinking from men of blood. I know it is 
 sinful, but indeed I cannot overcome it.'' 
 
 But, my dear Father Gray, a man of your experience 
 knows full well that if you cannot overcome that feeling, 
 you should act in direct opposition to it. And, I assure 
 you, there is no danger. Why, even / should not be at all 
 afraid of a robber when he is double-ironed and locked up 
 in a cell, and I should enter guarded by a pair of turn- 
 keys." 
 
 I know it, my dear lady, I know it ; and I feel that I 
 ought to overcome this weakness or do my duty in its 
 despite." 
 
 * ' Yes, and if you would consent to go. Father Gray, I 
 
A PANIC IN THE outlaw's DEN. 
 
 265 
 
 would not mind going with you myself, if that would 
 encourage you any/^ 
 
 Of course it would, my dear friend ; and if you will 
 go with me, and if the brethren think that I could do any 
 good, I will certainly endeavor to conquer my repugnance, 
 and visit these imprisoned men/^ 
 
 It was arranged that Father Gray, accompanied by Mrs. 
 Condiment, should go the jail upon the following morn- 
 ing; and accordingly they set out immediately after break- 
 fast. A short ride up the mountain brought them to Tip 
 Top, in the centre of which stood the jail. It Avas a simple 
 structure of gray stone, containing within its own walls the 
 apartments occupied by the warden. To these, Mrs. Con- 
 diment, who was the leader in the whole matter, first pre- 
 sented herself, introducing Father Gray as one of the 
 preachers of the camp-meeting, a very pious man, and very 
 effective in his manner of dealing with hardened offenders. 
 
 ^'^I have heard of the Reverend Mr. Gray, and his 
 powerful exhortations,^^ said the warden, with a low bow ; 
 
 and I hope he may be able to make some impression on 
 these obdurate men, and induce them, if possible, to ^make 
 a clean breast of it,^ and give up the retreat of their band. 
 Each of them has been offered a free pardon on condition 
 of turning Staters evidence, and each has refused." 
 
 Indeed ; have they done so, case-hardened creatures 
 mildly inquired Father Gray. 
 
 ^*Aye, have they! but you, dear sir, may be able to 
 persuade them to do so." 
 
 ^^I shall endeavor — I shall endeavor," said the mild old 
 man. 
 
 The warden then requested the visitors to follow him, 
 and led the way up stairs to the cells. 
 
 I understand that the criminals are confined separ- 
 ately ?" said Mr. Gray to the warden. 
 
 " No, sir ; they were so confined at first, for better 
 security ; but as they have been very quiet, and as since 
 
266 A PANIC IN THE OUTLAw's DEN. 
 
 those rowdies that disturbed the camp-meeting have been 
 sent to prison, and filled up our cells, we have had to put 
 those three robbers into one cell V' 
 
 Vm afraid, I — " began the minister, hesitating. 
 
 Father Gray is nervous, good Mr. Jailer ; I hope 
 there's no danger from those dreadful men — all of them 
 together — for I promised Father Gray that he should be 
 safe, myself, said Mrs. Condiment. 
 
 Oh, ma'am, undoubtedly ; they are double-ironed," 
 said the warden, as he unlocked a door and admitted the 
 visitors into rather a darkish cell, in which were the three 
 prisoners. 
 
 Steve, the mulatto, was stretched upon the floor in a 
 deejp sleep. 
 
 Hal was sitting on the side of the cot, twiddling his 
 fingers. 
 
 Dick sat crouched up in a corner, with his head against 
 the wall. 
 
 ^"^ Peace be with you, my poor souls,'' said the mild old 
 man, as he entered the cell. 
 
 You go to the demon !" said Dick, with a hideous 
 scowl. 
 
 Nay, my poor man, I came in the hope of saving you 
 from that enemy of souls." 
 
 Here's another ! There's three comes reg'lar ! here's 
 the fourth ! Go it, old fellow ! We're gettin' used to it ! 
 It's gettin' to be entertainin' ! It's the only diversion we 
 have in this blamed hole !" said Hal. 
 
 Nay, friend, if you use profane language, I cannot stay 
 to hear it," said the old man. 
 
 Yaiu-aiu-aw-ovf !" yawned Steve, half rising and 
 stretching himself. What's the row ? I was just dream- 
 our captain had come to deliver us — yaw-aio-aiu-ooli ! it's 
 only another parson ?" and with that, Steve turned himself 
 over and settled to sleep. 
 
 My dear Mr. Jailer — do you think that these men are 
 
A PANIC IN THE OUTLAw's DEN. 
 
 267 
 
 safe ? — for if you do, I think we had better leave excellent 
 Mr. Gray to talk to them alone — he can do them so much 
 good, if he has them all to himself/^ said Mrs. Condiment, 
 who was, in spite of all her previous boasting, beginning to 
 quail and tremble under the hideous glare of Demon Dick^s 
 eyes. 
 
 ^''X-no I n-no ! n-no V faltered the preacher, nervously 
 taking hold of the coat of the w^arden. 
 
 You go along out of this I the whole oi\ you. I'm not 
 a wild beast in a cage to be stared at growled Demon 
 Dick, with a baleful glare that sent Mrs. Condiment and 
 the preacher, shuddering to the cell door. 
 
 '^Mr. Gray, I do assure you, sir, there is no danger ! the 
 men are double-ironed, and malignant as they may be, they 
 can do you no harm. And if you would stay and talk to 
 them you might persuade them to confession and do the 
 community much service," said the warden. 
 
 I— Dm no coward ! But— but— but— " faltered the 
 old man, tremblingly approaching the prisoners. 
 
 '^^I understand you, sir. You are in bad health, which 
 makes you nervous."' 
 
 Yes, yes. Heaven forgive me ; but if you, Mr. Jailer, 
 and this good lady here, will keep within call, in case of 
 accidents, I don't mind if I do remain and exhort these men, 
 for a short time," said the old man. 
 
 " Of course we will. Come, Mrs. Condiment, mum ! 
 there's a good bench in the lobby, and I'll send for my old 
 woman, and we three can have a good talk while the wor- 
 thy Mr. Gray is speaking to the prisoners," said the war- 
 den, conducting the housekeeper from the cell. 
 
 As soon as they had gone, the old man went to the door 
 and peeped after them, and having seen that they went to 
 the extremity of the lobby to a seat under an open window, 
 he turned back to the cell, and going up to Hal, said in a 
 low voice ; 
 
 Now, then, is it possible that you do not know me 
 
268 
 
 A PANIC IN THE OLl'LAw's DEN. 
 
 Hal stopped twiddling liis fingers and looked up at tlie 
 tall, thin, stooping figure, tlie gray hair, the white eye- 
 brows and the pale face, and said gruffly : 
 
 ''■^^o ! May the demon fly away with me if I ever saw 
 you before V 
 
 ^' Nor you, Dick inquired the old man, in a mild 
 voice, turning to the one addressed. 
 
 "iVb, burn you ! nor want to see you now P 
 Steve ! Steye \" said the old man, in a pitiful voice, 
 waking the sleeper. Don't yoio know me either \" 
 
 *^ Don't bother me,'' said that worthy, giving himself 
 another turn and another settle to sleep. 
 
 " Dolts ! blockheads ! brutes ! do you know me now 
 growled tlie visitor, changing his voice. 
 Our Captain!" 
 
 ^^Our Captain !" 
 
 " Our Captain !" they simultaneously cried. 
 
 Husli, sink your souls ! Do you want to bring the 
 warden upon us ?" growled Black Donald, for it was 
 unquestionably him in a new metamorphosis. 
 
 Then all I have to say. Captain, is that you have left 
 us here a blamed long time !" 
 
 And exposed you to sore temptation to peach on me ! 
 Couldn't help it, lads ! couldn't help it ! I waited until I 
 could do something to the pttrpose 
 
 Now, may Satan roast me alive if I know what you 
 have done to turn yourself into an old man ! Burn my 
 soul ! i f I should know you now. Captain, if it wa'n't for 
 your voice," grumbled Steve. 
 
 Listen, then, you ungrateful, suspicious wretches ! I 
 did for you what no captain ever did for his men before. I 
 had exhausted all manner of disguises, so that the authori- 
 ties would almost have looked for me in an old woman's 
 gown ! See, then, what I did : I put myself on a month's 
 regimen of vegetable diet, and kept myself in a cavern, 
 until I grew as pale and thin as a hermit ! Then I shaved 
 
A PAinO IN THE outlaw's DEN. 
 
 269 
 
 off my hair, beard, moustaches and eyebrows I Yes, blame 
 you, I sacrificed all my beauty to your interests ! Fate 
 heljDS those who help themselves. The camp-meeting 
 gathering together hosts of people and preachers, gave me 
 the opportunity of appearing without exciting inquiry. I 
 put on ;i, gray wig, a black suir^ assumed a feeble voice, 
 stooping gait, and a devout manner, and — became a popu- 
 lar preacher at the camp-meeting I" 
 
 •^Captain, you're a brick ! you are, indeed ! I do not 
 flatter you V' said Hal. It was a sentiment in which all 
 agreed. 
 
 had no need of further machination,'^ continued the 
 captain ; ^''they actually gave me the game I I was urged 
 to visit you here — forced to remain alone and talk with 
 you laughed Black Donald. 
 
 And nov\^. Captain, my jewel I my treasure I my sweet- 
 heart ! that I love with ' a love passing the love of woman V 
 how is your reverence going to get us out ?" 
 
 '^Listen I'^ said the Captain, diving into his pockets. 
 You must get yourselves out I — this prison is by no means 
 strongly fastened, or well guarded. Here are files to file off 
 your fetters ; here are tools to pick the locks, and here are 
 three loaded revolvers to use against any of the turnkeys 
 who might discover and attempt to stop you. To-night, 
 however, is the last of the camp-meeting, and the two turn- 
 keys are among 7Jii/ hearers I I shall keep them all night ! 
 Now you know what to do. I must leave you. Dick, try 
 to make an assault on me that I may scream — but first con- 
 ceal your tools and arms." 
 
 Hal hid the instruments, and Dick, with an awful roar, 
 sprang at the visitor, who ran to the grating, crying : 
 Help : help V 
 
 The warden came hurrying to the spot. 
 
 " Take 'im out o' this, then 1'"' muttered Dick, sulkily, 
 getting back into his corner. 
 
 Oh, what a wretch ?' said Mrs. Oondimeni 
 
270 
 
 THE VIOTORY OVER DEATH. 
 
 ^^I shall be glad when he's once hanged/' said the 
 jailer. 
 
 '^''I — I — fear that I can do them but little good, and — 
 and I would rather not come again, being sickly and nerv- 
 ous/'' faltered Father Gray. 
 
 '^Iso, my dear good sir. /for one shall not ask you to 
 risk your precious health for such a set of wretches. They 
 are Satan's own ! You shall come home to our tent and lie 
 down to rest, and I will make you an egg-caudle that will 
 set you up again/' said Mrs. Condiment, tenderly, as the 
 whole party left the cell. 
 
 That day the outrageous conduct of the imprisoned 
 burglars was the subject of conversation, even dividing the 
 interest of the religious excitement. 
 
 But tlie next morning the whole community was thrown 
 into a state of consternation by the discovery that the 
 burglars had broken jail and fled, and that the notorious 
 outlaw. Black Donald, had been in their very midst, dis- 
 guised as an elderly field preacher. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 THE VICTORY OVER DEATH. 
 
 . " * Glory to God ! to God I' he saith, 
 * Knowledge by suffering entereth, 
 And life is perfected in death.' " 
 
 — E. B. Browning. 
 
 Oke morning, in the gladness of his heart, Doctor Day 
 mounted his liorse and rode down to Staunton, gaily refus- 
 ing to impart the object of his ride to any one, and bidding 
 Traverse istay with the women until he should return. 
 
THE VICTORY OVER DEATH. 
 
 2tl 
 
 As soon as tlie doctor was gone. Traverse went into tlie 
 library to arrange his patron^s books and papers. 
 
 Mrs. Kocke and Clara hurried away to attend to some 
 little mystery of their own invention, for the surprise and 
 delight of the doctor and Traverse. For the more secret 
 accomplishment of their purpose, ihey had dismissed all 
 attendance, and were at work alone in Mrs. Rockets room. 
 And here Clara's sweet, frank and humble disposition were 
 again manifest, for when Marah would arise from her seat 
 to get anything, Clara would forestall her purpose, and 
 say : 
 
 ''Tell me — tell me to get what you want, just as if I 
 were your child, and you will make me feel so well — do 
 now P 
 
 " You are very good, dear Miss Clara, but — I would 
 rather not presume to ask you to wait on me,'^ said Marah, 
 gravely. 
 
 '' Presume ! what a word from you to me ; please don^t 
 use it ever again, nor call me Miss Clara. Call me ' Clar:?, ' 
 or ' child,^ do, mamma,^' said the doctor's daughter ; then 
 suddenly pausing, she blushed and was silent. 
 
 Marah gently took her hand, and drew her into a warm 
 embrace. 
 
 It was while the friends were conversing so kindly in 
 Marah's room, and while Traverse was still engaged in 
 arranging the doctor's books and papers, that one of the 
 men-servants rapped at the library door, and without wait- 
 ing permission to come in, entered the room with every 
 mark of terror in his look and manner. 
 
 ''What is the matter?" inquired Traverse, anxiously 
 rising. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Traverse, sir ! the doctor's horse has just 
 rushed home to the stables all in a foam, without his 
 rider." 
 
 " Good Heaven !" exclaimed Traverse, starting up and 
 seizing his hat; "follow me immediately; hurry to the 
 
THE VICTORY OVER DEATfl. 
 
 stables and saddle my liorse^ and bring him up instantly ! 
 We must follow on the road the doctor took, to see what 
 has happened ! Stay ! on your life, breathe not a word of 
 what has occurred ! I would not have Miss Day alarmed 
 for the world he concluded, hastening down stairs 
 attended by the servant. 
 
 In five minutes from the time he left the library. Tra- 
 verse was in the saddle, galloping towards Staunton, and 
 looking attentively along the road as he went. Alas ! he 
 had not gone far, when, in descending the v/ooded hill, he 
 saw lying doubled up helplessly on the right side of the 
 path, the body of the good doctor ! 
 
 With an exclamation between a groan and a cry of 
 anguish. Traverse threw himself from his saddle and 
 kneeled beside the fallen figure, gazing in an agony of 
 anxiety upon the closed eyes, pale features and contracted 
 form, and crying : 
 
 Oh, heaven have mercy ! Doctor Day ! oh. Doctor 
 Day ! — can you speak to me 
 
 The white and quivering eyelids opened and the falter- 
 ing tongue spoke : 
 
 Traverse — get me home — ^that I may see — Clara before 
 I die/^ 
 
 " Oh, must this be so ! must this be so ! Oh, that I 
 could die for you, my friend ! my dear, dear friend \" cried 
 Traverse, wringing his hands in such anguish as he had 
 never known before. 
 
 Then feeling the need of self-control and the absolute 
 necessity of removing the sufferer. Traverse repressed the 
 swelling flood of sorrow in his bosom and cast about for the 
 means of conveying the doctor to his house. He drer.ded 
 to leave him for an instant, and yet it was necessary to do 
 so, as the servant whom he had ordered to follow him, had 
 not yet come up. 
 
 While he was bathing the doctor's face with water from 
 a little stream beside the path, John, the groom, came riding 
 
THE YICTOKY OVER DEATH. 
 
 f 
 
 along, and seeing his fallen master, with an exclamation 
 of horror, sprang from his saddle and ran to the spot. 
 
 John," said Traverse, in a heart-broken tone, mount 
 again and ride for your life to the house ! have — a cart — 
 yes ! that will be the easiest conveyance ! have a cart got 
 ready instantly with a feather-bed placed in it, and the 
 gentlest horse harnessed to it, and drive it here to the road- 
 side at the head of this path. Hasten for your life ! say not 
 a word of what has happened lest it should terrify the 
 ladies I Quick ! quick ! on your life \" 
 
 Again, as the man was hurrying away, the doctor spoke, 
 faintly murmuring : 
 
 ''For heaven's sake — do not let — poor Clara be shocked 
 
 ''No, no, she shall not be ; I warned him, dear friend. 
 How do you feel ? — can you tell where you are hurt 
 
 The doctor feebly moved one hand to his chest and 
 whispered : 
 
 " There, and in my back.'' 
 
 Traverse, controlling his own great mental agony, did 
 all that he could to soothe and alleviate the sufferings of 
 the doctor, until the arrival of the cart that stopped on the 
 road at the head of the little bridle-i3ath where the accident 
 happened. Then John jumped from the driver's seat and 
 came to the spot where he tenderly assisted the young man 
 in raising the doctor and conveying him to the cart and lay- 
 ing him upon the bed. ITotwith standing all their tender 
 care in lifting and carrying him, it was but too evident that 
 he suffered greatly in being moved. Slowly as they pro- 
 ceeded, at every jolt of the cart, his corrugated brows and 
 blanched and quivering lips told how much agony he silently 
 endured. 
 
 Thus at last they reached home. He was carefully 
 raised by the bed and borne into the house and upstairs to 
 his own chamber, where, being undressed, he was laid upon 
 his own easy couch. Traverse sent off for other medical 
 
274 
 
 THE VICTORY OVER DEATH. 
 
 aid, administered a restorative, and proceeded to examiiio 
 liis injuries. 
 
 '^^It is useless, dear boy, useless all ! you have medical 
 knowledge enough to be as sure of that as I am. Cover 
 me up, and let me compose myself before seeing Clara, and 
 while I do so, go you and break this news gently to the 
 poor child V' said the doctor, who, being under the influ- 
 ence of the restorative, spoke more steadily than at any 
 time since his fall. 
 
 Traverse, almost broken-hearted, obeyed his benefactor, 
 and vv^ent to seek his betrothed, praying the Lord to teach 
 him how to tell her this dreadful calamity and to support 
 her under its crushing weight. 
 
 As he went slowly, wringing his hands, he suddenly 
 met Clara with her dress in disorder and her hair flying, 
 just as she had run from her room while dressing for din- 
 ner. Hurrying towards him, she exclaimed : 
 
 Traverse, wJiat has happened ? for the good Lord^'s 
 sake tell me quickly ! the house is all in confusion ! every 
 one is pale with affright ! no one will answer me ! your 
 mother just now ran past me out of the store-room, with 
 her face as white as death ! Oh, what does it all mean 
 
 Clara, love, come and sit down, you are almost faint- 
 ing — oh. Heaven support us V' murmured Traverse, as he 
 led the poor girl to the hull sofa. 
 
 " Tell me ! tell me !" she said. 
 Clara — your father " 
 
 My father ! Oh no, no ; do not say any harm has hap- 
 pened to my father ! do not. Traverse, do not 
 
 Oh, Clara, try to be firm, dear one !" 
 
 My father ! oh, my father ! he is dead shrieked 
 Clara, starting up wildly to run — she knew not whither. 
 
 Traverse sprang up and caught her arm, and drawing 
 her gently back to her seat, said : 
 
 No, dear Clara, no — not so bad as that ! he is living/' 
 
THE VICTORY OVER DEATH. 
 
 275 
 
 •'Oh, thaiik Heaven for so mucli : --La: ih ir, tlien, 
 Traverse ? He is ill ? — oh^. let nie go to him.*' 
 
 '•Stay, dear Clara \ comp yrurs?:- first 1 Ton would 
 not go aiid disturb liim f.i: : ^ an^ disrres-ed 
 
 face of yuurs — let me get you a glass ot v-ater/" said Tra- 
 verse, starting up and bringing the ueeded sedative from an 
 adjoining room. 
 
 '•'There, Clara, drink thiit. and offer a silent prayer to 
 Heaven to ^riv- tou self-: n"r 
 
 -I v-::i : .h, I musr, : 
 verse, is it — is ic I — 
 
 '• Xo, dear luv^-. no ; n^ 
 liorse got frightened l:v th 
 was going into the r 
 
 ^And r:-: 
 
 Heaven ! oli, m 
 clasping lier Inn 
 
 Aerain Trav^rs^ r.onn 
 
 But. roll me, Tra- 
 ins nn_rning and his 
 circns-comnauv tliLit 
 
 im 
 
 Oh, 
 
 nee more 
 
 gently dt-tained her, 
 
 ''You 2")romised me to be calm, dear Clara, and you 
 must be so before I can sufTtr you to see your father.'"'' 
 
 Clara sank into her sent an.d covered her face vrith her 
 hands, miirmurino- in a ' _ h : 
 
 I be, when my heart 
 t/n>t .' was he — was he 
 • he mnich hurt 
 - - n h y ■• n' he nor 
 
 ''How can I be ? 0!:, i 
 is wild with grirf and fi-ien.r 
 
 ~oh : I : ~' ■ 
 
 "Cinn,, i V,. i. - 
 I yet know ^heir t ii .jxrtjnt 
 and Qxi i i 
 
 every mu...j^:. x.. m,- nic:.: 
 possible for his rulie-fn"'' 
 
 •'•' Traverse, "'' said Clara, vt-ry calmly, controlling herself 
 by an almost superhuman clf^irt : •'• Traverse, I will be 
 comp<:s-d ; vuu sindl see th.n I ^i" : n he me to my dear 
 fathers bedside ; it is there that I ought to bo \'' 
 
 That is my dear, brave, dutifnl girl ! Come, Clara/* 
 
 ni >raunron. 1 uxpeet tnem 
 le. I have done all that is 
 
276 
 
 THE VICTOEY OVEK BEA'lM. 
 
 replied tlie young man^ taking lier liand^ and leading licr 
 up to the bed-chambor of the doctor Tliej met Mrs. 
 Eocke at the door^ who tearfnlly signed them to go in as 
 she left it. 
 
 When they entered and approached the bedside^ Tra- 
 verse saw that the suffering but heroic father must have 
 made some superlative effort before he could have reduced 
 his haggard face and writhing form to its present state of 
 placid repose^ to meet his daughter's eyes and spare her 
 feelings. 
 
 She, on her part, was no less firm. Kneeling beside 
 his couch, she took his hand and met his eye composedly 
 as she asked : 
 
 Dear father, how do you feel now ?" 
 
 "Not just so easy, love, as if I had laid me down here 
 for an afternoon's nap, yet in no more pain than I can 
 very well bear.'' 
 
 Dear father, what can I do for you ?" 
 *^You may bathe my forehead and lips with cologne, 
 my dear," said the doctor, not so much for the sake of the 
 reviving perfume, as because he knew it would comfort 
 Clara to feel that she was doing something, however slight, 
 for him. 
 
 Traverse stood upon the opposite side of the bed fanning 
 him. 
 
 In a few moments Mrs. Eocke re-entered the room, 
 announcing that the two old physicians from Staunton, 
 Doctor Dawson and Doctor Williams, had arrived. 
 
 Show them up, Mrs. Eocke ; Clara, love, retire while 
 the physicians remain with me," said Doctor Day. 
 
 Mrs. Eocke left the room to do his bidding. And 
 Clara followed and sought the privacy of her own apart- 
 ment, to give way to the overwhelming grief which she 
 could no longer resist. 
 
 As soon as she was gone the doctor also yielded to the 
 force of the suffering that he had been able to endure 
 
THE VICTOEY OVER DEATH. 
 
 277 
 
 silently in her presence, and writhed and groaned in agony, 
 that wrung the heart of Traverse to behold. 
 
 Presently the two physicians entered the room, and 
 approached the bed, with expressions of sincere grief at 
 beholding their old friend in such a condition, and a hope 
 that they might sjpeedily be able to relieve him. 
 
 To all of which the doctor, repressing all exhibitions of 
 pain, and holding out his hand in a cheerful manner, 
 replied : 
 
 T am happy to see you in a friendly way, old friends 
 I am willing also that you should try what you — vv-hat yoa 
 can do for me — but I warn you that it will be useless. A 
 few hours or days of inflammation, fe rer and agony ; then 
 the ease of mortification ; then dissolution.^' 
 
 *^^Tut, tut," said Williams, cheerfully, '^v;e never per- 
 mit a patient to pronounce a prognosis upon his own case.^^ 
 Friend, my horse ran away, stumbled and fell upon 
 me, and rolled over me in getting up ; the viscera is 
 crushed within me ; breathing is difiScult ; speech painful ; 
 motion agonizing ; — but you may examine and satisfy your- 
 selves," said Dr. Day, still speaking cheerfully, though with 
 great suffering. 
 
 His old friends proceeded gently to the examination, 
 which resulted in their silently and perfectly coinciding in 
 opinion with the patient himself. 
 
 Then, with Dr. Day and Traverse, they entered into a 
 consultation, and agreed upon the best palliatives that conld 
 be administered ; and begging that if in any manner, pro- 
 fessionally or otherwise, they could serve their suffering 
 friend, at any hour of the day or night, they might be sum- 
 moned, they took leave. 
 
 As soon as th^y had gone, Clara, who had given way to 
 a flood of tears, ;ind regained her composure, rapped for 
 admittance. 
 
 " Presently, dear daughter, presently,^^ said the doctor, 
 who then beckoning Traverse to stoop low, said : 
 
278 
 
 THE VICTORY OVER DEATH. 
 
 Do not let Clara sit up with me to-night ; I foresee a 
 night of great anguish^ which I may not be able to repress, 
 and which I would not have her witness. Promise you will 
 keep her away.^' 
 
 I promise," faltered the almost broken-hearted youth. 
 
 You may admit her now," said the doctor, composing 
 his convulsed countenance as best he could, lest the sight 
 of his suffering should distress his daughter. 
 
 Clara entered and resumed her post at the side of the bed. 
 Traverse left the room to prepare the palliatives for his 
 patient. 
 
 The afternoon waned. As evening approached, the 
 fever, inflammation and pain arose to such a degree, that 
 the doctor could no longer forbear betraying his excessive 
 suffering, which was, besides, momentarily increasing; so 
 he said to Clara : 
 
 My child, you must now leave me and retire to bed. 
 I must be watched by Traverse alone to-night." 
 
 And Traverse seeing her painfal hesitation, between 
 her extreme reluctance to leave him, and her wish to obey 
 him, approached and murmured : 
 
 "Dear Clara, it would distress him to have you stay; 
 he will be much better attended by me alone." 
 
 Clara still hesitated ; and Traverse, beckoning his 
 mother to come and speak to her, left her side. 
 
 Mrs. Rocke approached her and said : 
 
 "It must be so, dear girl, for you know that there are 
 some cases in which sick men should be watched by men 
 only, and this is one of them. I myself shall sit up to-night 
 in the next room, within call." 
 
 " And may I not sit there beside you pleaded Clara. 
 
 "No, my dear love ; as you can do your father no good, 
 he desires that you should go to bed and rest. Do not dis- 
 tress him by refusing." 
 
 " Oh, and am / to go to bed and sleep while my dear 
 father lies here suffering I cannot I Oh, I cannot I'' 
 
THE YICTOKY OVER DEATH. 
 
 279 
 
 My deaiv yes^ you must ; and if you cannot sleep, you 
 can be awake and pray for liim/^ 
 
 Here the doctor, whose agony was growing unendura- 
 ble, called out : 
 
 ''QcOy Clara ! go at once, my dear/' 
 
 She went back to the bedside and pressed her lips 
 to his forehead, and put her arms around him and prayed : 
 
 '''Oh, my dear father, may the blessed Saviour take you 
 in his pitying embrace and give you ease to-night. Your 
 poor Clara will pray for you as she never prayed for her- 
 self r 
 
 *'May the Lord bless you, my sweet child, ^' said the 
 doctor, lifting one hand painfully and laying it in benedic- 
 tion on her fair and graceful head. 
 
 Then she arose and left the room, saying to Mrs. Eocke 
 as she went : 
 
 '^Oh, Mrs. Eocke, only last evening we were so happy ! 
 — But if we have received good things at the hand of God, 
 why should we not receive evil 
 
 Yes, my cliild ; but remember nothing is really evil 
 that comes from His good hand,^^ said Mrs. Eocke, as she 
 attended Clara to the door. 
 
 His daughter had no sooner gone out of hearing than 
 the doctor gave way to his irrepressible groans. 
 
 At a sign from Traverse Mrs. Eocke went and took up 
 her position in the adjoining room. 
 
 Then Traverse subdued the light in the sick chamber, 
 arranged the pillows of the couch, administered a sedative, 
 and took up his post beside the bed, where he continued to 
 watch and nurse the patient with unwearied devotion. 
 
 At the dawn of day, when Clara rapped at the door, the 
 doctor was in no condition to be seen by his daughter. 
 
 Clara was put off with some plausible excuse. 
 
 After breakfast his friends the physicians called and 
 spent several hours in his room. Clara was told that she 
 must not ctme in while they Avere there. And so, by one 
 
^80 
 
 THE ViCTOEY OVER DEATH. 
 
 means and another, the poor girl was spared from witness- 
 ing those dreadful agonies which, had she seen them, must 
 have so bitterly increased her distress. 
 
 In the afternoon, during a temporary mitigation of pain, 
 Clara was admitted to see her father. But in the evening 
 as his sufferings augmented, she was again, upon the same 
 excuse they had used the preceding evening, dismissed to 
 her chamber. 
 
 Then passed another night of suffering, during which 
 Traverse never left him for an instant. 
 
 Towards morning the fever and pain abated, and he fell 
 into a sweet sleep. About sunrise he awoke quite free from 
 suffering. Alas ! it was the ease he had predicted — the 
 ease preceding dissolution. 
 
 It is gone forever now. Traverse, my boy, thank God 
 my last hours will be sufficiently free from pain to enable 
 me to set my house in order. Before calling Clara in, I 
 would talk to you alone. You will remain here until all is 
 over 
 
 Oh, yes, sir ! yes ! I would do anything on earth — 
 anything for you. I would lay down my life this hour, if 
 I could do so to save you from this bed of death.'" 
 
 Nay, do not talk so ; 3^our life belongs to others — to 
 Clara and your mother. Cod doeth all things well. 
 Better the ripened ear should fall, than the budding germ. 
 I do not feel it hard to die, dear Traverse. Though the 
 journey has been very pleasant, the goal is not unwelcome. 
 Earth has been very sweet to nie, but Heaven is sweeter.*' 
 ^' Oh ! but we love you so ! we love you so ! you have 
 so much to live for V exclaimed Traverse, with an irrepres- 
 sible burst of grief. 
 
 Poor boy, life is too hopeful before you to make yoit 
 a comforter by a deathbed. Yes, Traverse, I have much 
 to live for, but more to die for. Yet not voluntarily would 
 I have left you, though I know that I leave you in the 
 hands of the Lord, and with every blessing and promise of 
 
THE VICTORY OVEE DEATH. 
 
 281 
 
 his Ijoiiai iful providence. Your love will console my child. 
 My conOdeuce in you makes me easy in committing her to 
 your charge. 
 
 Oil, Doctor Day, may the Lord so deal with my soul 
 eternally, as I shall discharge this trust/' said Traverse, 
 earnestly. 
 
 T know you will be true — I wish you to remain here 
 with Clara and your mother for a few weeks, until the 
 child's first violence of grief shall be over. Then you had 
 best pursue the plan we laid out. Leave your good mother 
 here to take care of Clara, and go you to the West, get into 
 practice there, and at the end of a few years return and 
 marry Clara. Traverse, there is one promise I would have 
 of you.-" 
 
 " I give it before it is named, dear friend," said Tra- 
 verse, fervently. 
 
 My child is but seventeen ; she is so gentle that her 
 will is subject to that of all she loves, especially to yours. 
 She will do anything in conscience that you ask her to do. 
 Traverse, I wish you to promise me that you will not press 
 her to marriage until she shall be at least twenty years old. 
 And " 
 
 " Oh, sir, I promise ! Oh, believe me, my affection for 
 Clara is so pure and so constant, as well as so confiding in 
 her faith and so solicitous for her good, that, with the 
 assurance of her love, and the privilege of visiting her and 
 writing to her, I could wait many years if needful.-" 
 
 *^ I believe you, my dear boy. And the very promise I 
 have asked of you is as much for your sake as for hers. IN'o 
 girl can marry before she is twenty without serious risk of 
 life, and almost, certain loss of health and beauty ; that so 
 many do so is one reason why there are such numbers of 
 sickly and faded young wives. If Clara-'s constitution should 
 be broken down by prematurely assuming cares and burdens 
 of matrimony, yoio would be as unfortunate in havii^g a 
 sickly wife, as she would be in losing her health/' 
 
282 
 
 THE VICTORY OVER DEATH. 
 
 Oh, sir, I promise you, tliat no mattej how much I 
 may wish to do so, I will not be tempted to make a wife cf 
 Clara, until she has attained the age you have prescribed. 
 But at the same time, I must assure you that such is my 
 love for her, that if accident should now make her an inva- 
 lid for life she would be as dear — as dear — yes, much dearer 
 to me if possible on that very account ; and if I could not 
 marry her for a wife, I should marry her only for the dear 
 privilege of waiting on her night and day ! — Oh, believe 
 this of me, and leave your dear daughter with an easy mind 
 to my faithful care !" said Traverse, with a boyish blush 
 suffusing his cheeks and tears filling his eyes. 
 
 ''I do. Traverse ! I do ! — and now to other things." 
 " Are you not talking too much, dear friend V 
 
 No, no, I must talk while I have time. I was about 
 to say that long ago, my will was made. Clara, you know, 
 is the heiress of all I possess. You, as soon as you become 
 her husband, will receive her fortune with her. I have 
 made no reservation in her favor against you ; for he to 
 whom I can entrust the charge of my daughter's person, 
 happiness and honor, I can also intrust with her fortune. ■'^ 
 
 Dear sir, I am glad, for Olara^s sake, that she has a 
 fortune ; as for me, I hope you will believe that I would 
 have gladly dispensed with it and worked for dear Clara all 
 the days of my life."^ 
 
 ^^I do believe it. But this will was made. Traverse, 
 three years ago, before any of us anticij)ated the present 
 relations between you and my daughter, and while you were 
 both still children. Therefore, I appointed my wife^s half 
 brother, Clara's only male relative. Colonel Le ISToir, as her 
 guardian. It is true, we have never been very intimate ; 
 for our paths in life widely diverged ; nor has my Clara 
 seen him within her recollection ; for since her mother's 
 death, which took place in her infancy, he has never been 
 at our house. But he is a man of high reputation and 
 excellent character, I have already requested Doctor Wil- 
 
tHS TiQTOMt ormn death. 
 
 liamg to write for him, so that I expect he will be here in a 
 Yery few days. When he comes. Traverse, you i^illtell him 
 that it is my desire that my daughter shall continue to reside 
 in lier present home, retaining Mrs. Eocke as her matronly 
 companion. I have requested Doctor Williams to tell him 
 the same thing, so that in the mouths of two witnesses my 
 Avords may he established." 
 
 !N"ow, Traverse had never in his life before heard the 
 name of Colonel Le Noir ; and therefore was in no position 
 to warn the dying father who placed so much conlidcnco 
 in the high reputation of his brother-in-law, that his trust 
 was miserably misp]iiced — that he was leaving his fair 
 daughter and her large fortune to the tender mercies of an 
 unscrupulous villain and a consummate hypocrite. So he 
 merely promised to deliver the message with which he was 
 charged by the dying father, for his daughter's guardian, 
 and added that he had no doubt that Clara's uncle would 
 consider that message a sacred command and obey it to the 
 letter. 
 
 As the sun was now well up, the doctor consented that 
 Mrs. Rocke and his daughter should be admitted. 
 
 Marah brought with her some wine-whey, that her 
 patient drank, and from which ho received temporary 
 strength. 
 
 Clara was pale but calm ; one could see at a glance that 
 the poor girl was prepared for the worst, and had nerved 
 her gentle heart to bear it with patience. 
 
 Come hither, my little Clara," said the doctor as soon 
 as he had been revived by his whey. 
 
 Clara came and kissed his brow, and sat beside him 
 with her hands clasped in his. 
 
 ^' My little girl, what did our Saviour die for ? First 
 to redeem us, and also to teach us by his burial and resur- 
 rection that death is but a falling asleej^ in this world and 
 an awakening in the next. Clara, after this, when you 
 think of your father, do not think of him as lying in the 
 
m 
 
 Tfi^: Ttci^oRir over deatS. 
 
 grave ; for he will not be there in his vacated body, no mot^ 
 than he will be in the trunk with his cast-off clothes. As 
 the coat is the body^s covering, so the body is the souFs 
 garment and it is the soul that is the innermost and real 
 man ; ifc is my soul that is me ; and that will not be in the 
 earth but in Heaven ! therefore do not think of me gloomily 
 as lying in the grave, but cheerfully as living in Heaven — 
 as living there with God and Christ and his saints, and 
 with your mother, Clara, the dear wife of my youth, who 
 has been waiting for me these many years. Think of me 
 as being happy in that blessed society. Do not fancy that 
 it is your duty to grieve, but on the contrary know that it 
 is your duty to be as cheerful and happy as possible. Do 
 you heed me, my daughter ?" 
 
 *^ Oh, yes ! yes, dear father V said Clara, heroically re- 
 pressing her grief. 
 
 Seek for yourself, dear child, a nearer union with 
 Christ and God. Seek it, Clara, until the spirit of God 
 shall bear witness with your spirit that you are as a child of 
 God ! so shall you, as you come to lie where I do now, be 
 able to say of your life and death, as I say with truth of 
 mine — The journey has been pleasant, but the goal is 
 blessed ! " 
 
 The doctor pressed his daughter's hand, and dropped 
 suddenly into an easy sleep. 
 
 Mrs. Eocke drew Clara away, and the room was very 
 still. 
 
 Sweet, beautiful and lovely as is the death-bed of a 
 Christian, we will not linger too long beside it. 
 
 All day the good man's bodily life ebbed gently away. 
 He spoke at intervals as he had strength given him, words 
 of affection, comfort, and counsel to those around him. 
 
 Just as the setting sun was pouring his last rays into 
 the chamber. Doctor Day laid his hand upon his child's 
 head and blessed her. Then, closing his eyes, he murmured 
 softly : " ' Lord Jesus, into thy hands I resign my spirit f " 
 
m 
 
 and with that sweet, deep, intense smile that had been so 
 lovely in life, noAV so much lovelier in death, his pure spirit 
 winged its flight to the realms of eternal bliss ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE OKPHAN". 
 
 " Let me die, father 1 I fear, I fear 
 To fall in earth's terrible strife !" 
 ** Not so, my child, for the crown must be won 
 In the battle-field of life." — Life and Death. 
 
 " He has gone to sleep again, said Clara, with a sigh 
 of relief. 
 
 He has gone to Heaven, my child,^'' said Marali Rocke, 
 softly. 
 
 The orphan started, gazed wildly on the face of the dead, 
 turned ghastly pale, and with a low moan and suffocating 
 sob, fell fainting into the motherly arms of Mrs. Rocke. 
 
 Marah beckoned Traverse, who lifted the insensible girl 
 tenderly in his arms, and preceded by his mother, bore her 
 to her chamber and laid her upon the bed. 
 
 Then Marab dismissed Traverse to attend to the duties 
 owed to the remains of the beloved departed, v/hile she her- 
 self staid with Clara, using every means for her restoration. 
 
 Clara opened her eyes at length, but in reviving to life 
 also returned to grief. Dreadful to witness was the sorrow 
 of the orphan girl. She had controlled her grief in the 
 presence of her father, and while he lingered in life, only 
 to give way now to its overwhelming force. Marah remained 
 with her, holding her in her arms, weeping with her, pray- 
 ing for her, doing all that the most tender mother could do 
 to soothe, console and strengthen the bleeding young heart. 
 
§86 
 
 The funeral of Dr, Day took place the third day from 
 his decease, and ^vas attended by all the gentry of the 
 neighboring town and the county, in their own carriages, 
 and by crowds who came on foot to i^ay the last tribute of 
 respect to their beloved friend. 
 
 He was interred in the family burial ground, situated on 
 a wooded hill up behind the homestead, and at the head of 
 his last resting-place was afterwards erected a plain obelisk 
 of white marble, with his name aud the date of his birth 
 and death, and the following inscription : 
 
 ''He is not heke, but is RiSEiq-.^' 
 
 ''.When dear Clara comes to weep at her father^s grave, 
 these words will send her away comforted, and with her 
 faith renewed, had been Traverse Rocke's secret thought, 
 when giving directions for the inscription of this inspiring 
 text. 
 
 On the morning of the day succeeding the funeral, 
 while Clara, exhausted by the violence of her grief, lay 
 prostrate upon her chamber couch, Mrs. Rocke and 
 Traverse sat conversing in that once pleasant, now desolate, 
 morning reading room. 
 
 "You know, dear mother, tliat by the doctor^s desire, 
 which should be considered sacred, Clara is still to live 
 here, and you are to remain to take care of her. I shall 
 defer my journey West, until everything is settled to 
 Clara^s satisfaction, and she has in some degree recovered 
 her equanimity. I must also have an interview and a good 
 understanding with her guardian, for whom I have a mes. 
 sage." 
 
 " Who is this guardian of whom I have heard you speak 
 more than once. Traverse ?" asked Marah. 
 
 " Dear mother, will you believe me that I have forgotten 
 the nian's name ; it was an uncommon name that I never 
 heard before in my life, and, in the pressure of grief upon 
 
THE ORPHAN. 
 
 287 
 
 my mind^ its exact identity escaped my memory ; b tt that 
 does not signify mncli^ as he is exjoected hourly ; and when 
 he announces himself, either by card or word of mouth, I 
 shall know, for I shall recognize the name the moment I 
 see it written or hear it spoken. Let me see — it was some- 
 thing like Des Moines, De Vaugn, De Sanle — or something 
 of that sort. At all events, I^m sure I shall know it again 
 the instant I see or hear it. And now, dear mother, I 
 must ride up to Staunton to see some of the doctor's poor 
 sick, that he left in my charge for as long as I stay here. 
 I shall be back by three o^clock. I need not ask you to 
 take great care of that dear suffering girl up-stairs," said 
 Traverse, taking his hat and gloves for a ride. 
 
 ^'I shall go and stay with her as soon as she v/akes,^^ 
 answered Mrs. Kocke. 
 
 And Traverse, satisfied, went his way. 
 
 He had been gone perhaps an hour, when the sound of 
 a carriage was heard below in the front of the house, fol- 
 lowed soon by a loud rapping at the hall door. 
 
 '' It is dear Clara^s guardian, said Marah Eocke, ris- 
 ing and listening. 
 
 Soon a servant entered and placed a card in her hand, 
 saying : 
 
 The gentleman is waiting in the hall below, and 
 asked to see the person that was in charge here, ma'am. 
 So I fetch the card to you." 
 
 " You did right, John. Show the gentleman up here," 
 said Marah ; and as soon as the servant had gone she looked 
 at the card, but failed to make it out. The name was 
 engraved in Old English text, and in such a complete 
 labyrinth, thicket and network of ornate flourishes, that no 
 one who was not familiar at once with the name and the 
 style could possibly have distinguished it. 
 
 I do not think my boy would know this name at 
 sight \" was Marah's thought, as she twirled the card in her 
 hand, and stood waiting the entrance of the visitor, whose 
 
288 
 
 THE ORPHAN. 
 
 step was now heard coming up the stairb Soon the door 
 was thrown open, and the stranger entered. 
 
 Marah, habitually shy in the presence of strangers, 
 dropped her eyes before she had fairly taken in the figure 
 of a tall, handsome, dark complexioned, distinguished look- 
 ing man somewhat past middle age, and arrayed in a rich 
 military cloak, and carrying in his hand a military cap. 
 
 The servant who admitted him had scarcely retired, 
 when Marah looked up, and her eyes and those of the 
 stranger met — and — 
 ^ ^^Maeah Rocke I ! r 
 
 " Colonel Le Noie ! ! 
 
 Burst simultaneously from the lips of each. 
 
 Le 'Noiv first recovered himself, and holding out both 
 hands, advanced towards her with a smile as if to greet an 
 old friend. 
 
 But Marah, shrinking from him in horror, turned and 
 tottered to the farthest window, where leaning her head 
 against the sash, she moaned : 
 
 " Oh, my heart ! my heart ! is tJiis the wolf to whom 
 my lamb must be committed 
 
 As she moaned these words, she was aware of a soft step 
 at her side and a low voice murmuring : 
 
 Marah Rocke, yes ! the same beautiful Marah that as 
 a girl of fifteen, twenty years ago, turned my head, led me 
 by her fatal charms into the very jaws of death ! the same 
 lovely Marah with her beauty only ripened by time and 
 exalted by sorrow/^ 
 
 With one surprised, indignant look, but without a word 
 of reply, Mrs. Rocke turned and walked composedly towards 
 the door with the intention of quitting the room. 
 
 Colonel Le Noir saw and forestalled her purpose by 
 springing forward, turning the key, and standing before 
 the door. 
 
 Forgive me, Marah, but I must have a word with you 
 
THE ORPHAN. 
 
 289 
 
 before we pai-t/' he said, in those soft, sweet, persuasive 
 tones he knew so well how to assume. 
 
 Marah remembered that she was an honorable matron 
 and an honored mother, that as such, fears and tremors and 
 self-distrust in the presence of a villain, would not well 
 become her ; so calling up all the gentle dignity latent in her 
 nature, she resumed her seat, and signing to the visitor to 
 follow her example, she said, composedly : 
 
 Speak on. Colonel Le Noir, — remembering, if; you 
 please, to luliom you speak.''' 
 
 '^1 do remember, Marah ! remember but too well !" 
 
 "They call me Mrs. Rocke who converse with me, sir." 
 
 " Marah, why this resentment ? Is it possible that you 
 can still be angry ? Have I remained true to my attachment 
 all these years, aud sought you throughout the luorld to find 
 this reception at last 
 
 Colonel Le lN"oir, if this is all you had to say it was 
 scarcely worth while to have detained me," said Mrs. Rocke, 
 calmly. 
 
 " But it is not all, my Marah. Yes, I call you mine by 
 virtue of the strongest attachment man ever felt for woman. 
 ]\rarah Rocke, you were the only woman who ever inspired 
 me with a feeling worthy to be called a passion " 
 
 " Colonel Le ISToir, how dare you blaspheme this 
 
 house of mourning by such sinful words ! You forget where 
 you stand and to whom you speak." 
 
 " I forget nothing, Marah Rocke, nor do I violate this 
 sanctuary of sorrow," — here he sunk his voice below his 
 usual low tones — when I speak of the passion that mad- 
 dened my youth and withered my manhood — a passion 
 whose intensity was its excuse for all extravagances and 
 whose enduring constancy is its final, full justification." 
 
 Before he had finished this sentence, Marah Rocke had 
 calmy arisen and pulled the bell-rope. 
 
 " What mean you by that, Marah ?" he inquired. 
 
 Before she replied, a servant, in answer to the bell, came 
 
290 
 
 THE ORPHAN. 
 
 to the door and tried the latcli; and, finding it locked, 
 rapped. 
 
 With a blush that mounted to his forehead, and with a 
 half-suppressed imprecation, Colonel Le Noir went and un- 
 locked the door, and admitted the man. 
 
 John,'' said Mrs. Eocke, quietly, ^' show Colonel Le 
 Noir to the apartment prepared for him, and wait his 
 orders." 
 
 And, with a slight nod to the guest, she went calmly 
 from the room. 
 
 Colonel Le Noir, unmindful of the presence of the ser- 
 yant, stood gazing in angry mortification after her. The 
 flush on his brow had given way to the fearful pallor of rage 
 or hate, as he muttered inaudibly ; 
 
 Insolent beggar ! contradiction always confirms my 
 half -formed resolutions ; years ago I swore to possess tliat 
 woman, and I will do it, if it be only to keep my oath and 
 humble her insolence. She is very handsome still ; she 
 shall be my slave,'' 
 
 Then, perceiving the presence of John, he said : 
 Lead the way to my room, sirrah, and then go and 
 order my fellow to bring up my portmanteau." 
 
 John devoutly pulled his forelock as he bowed low, and 
 then went out, followed by Colonel Le Noir. 
 
 Marah Eocke meanwhile had gained the privacy of her 
 own chamber, where all her firmness deserted her. 
 
 Throwing herself into a chair, she clasped her hands 
 -and sat with blanched face and staring eyes, like a marble 
 statue of despair. 
 
 " Oh, what shall I do ? while this miscreant remains 
 here ? this villain whose very presence desecrates the roof 
 and dishonors me ? I would instantly leave the house but 
 that I must not abandon poor Clara. 
 
 I cannot claim the protection of Traverse, for I would 
 not provoke him to wrath or run him into danger \ nor 
 
THE ORPHAN. 
 
 291 
 
 indeed would I even permit my son to dream sucli a thing 
 possible as that his mother could receive insult. 
 
 '''Nor can I warn Clara of the unprincipled character 
 of her guardian, for if she knew him as he is, she would 
 surely treat him in such a way as to get his enmity — his 
 dangerous, fatal enmity — doubly fatal since hsr person and 
 property are legally at his disposal. Oh, my dove, my 
 dove ! that you should be in the power of this vulture. 
 What shall I do, oh. Heaven !" 
 
 Marah dropped on her knees and finished her soliloquy 
 with prayer. Then, feeling composed and strengthened, 
 she went to Clara's room. 
 
 She found the poor girl lying awake and quietly weep- 
 ing. 
 
 Your ^guardian has arrived, love," she said, sitting 
 down beside the bed and taking Clara^s hand. 
 
 ^' Oh, must I 'get up and dress to see a stranger ?" 
 sighed Clara, wearily. 
 
 "No, love, you need not stir until it is time to dress 
 for dinner ; it will answer quite well if you meet your 
 guardian at table,-''' said Marah, who had particular reasons 
 for wishing that Clara should first see Colonel Le Noir 
 with other company to have an opportunity of observing 
 him well and possibly forming an estimate of his character 
 (as a young girl of her fine instincts might well do) before 
 she should be exposed in a tete-a-tete to those deceptive 
 blandishments he knew so well how to bring into play. 
 
 " That is a respite ! Oh, dear Mrs. Rocke, you don^t 
 know how I dread to see any one !" 
 
 ^•'My dear Clara, you must combat grief by prayer, 
 which is the only thing that can overcome it,'-' said Marah. 
 
 Mrs. Rocke remained with her young charge as long as 
 she possibly could, and then she went down stairs to over- 
 see the preparation of the dinner. 
 
 And it was at the dinner table that Marah, with the 
 quiet and genth dignity for which she was distinguished, 
 
292 
 
 THE ORPHAN. 
 
 iutroduced tlie younger members of the family to the 
 guest, in these words : 
 
 " Your ward. Miss Day, Colonel Le Noir/^ 
 
 The Colonel bowed deeply, and raised the hand of 
 Clara to his lips, murmuring some sweet, soft, silvery and 
 deferentially inaudible words of condolence, sympathy, and 
 melancholy pleasure, from which Clara, with a gentle bend 
 of her head, Avithdrew to take her seat. 
 
 Colonel Le Noir, my son. Doctor Eocke,^^ said Marah, 
 presenting Traverse. 
 
 The colonel stared superciliously, bowed with ironical 
 depth, said he was much honored," and turning his back 
 on the young man, placed himself at the table. 
 
 During the dinner he exerted himself to be agreeable to 
 Miss Day and Mrs. Rocke, but Traverse he affected to 
 treat with supercilious neglect, or ironical deference. 
 
 Our young physician had too much self-respect to per- 
 mit himself to be in any degree affected by this rudeness. 
 And Marah, on her part, was glad, so that it did not 
 trouble Traverse, that Le Noir should behave in this man- 
 ner, so that Clara should be enabled to form some correct 
 idea of his disposition. 
 
 When dinner was over, Clara excused herself and retired 
 to her room, whither she was soon followed by Mrs. Rocke. 
 
 Well, my dear, how do you like your guardian 
 asked Marah, in a tone as indifferent as she could make it. 
 
 I do not like him at all," exclaimed Clara, her gentle 
 blue eyes flashing with indignation through their tears ; I 
 do not like him at all, the scornful, arrogant, supercilious 
 
 Oh ! I do not wish to use such strong language, or to 
 
 grow angry when I am in such deep grief; but my dear 
 father could not have known this man, or he never tuould 
 have chosen him for my guardian ! do you think he would, 
 Mrs. Rocke ?" 
 
 ^^My dear, your excellent father must have thought 
 well of him, or he would never would have intrusted him 
 
THE OEPHAN. 
 
 293 
 
 witli so precious a cliarge. Whether your father's confi- 
 dence in this man will be justified as far as you are con- 
 cerned, time will show. ]\leanwhile, my love, as the guar- 
 dian ai^poiuted by your father, you should treat him with 
 respect ; but so far as reposing any trust in Mm goes, con- 
 sult your own instincts 
 
 I shall ! and I thank heaven that I have not got to go 
 and live with Colonel Le Xoir !" said Clara, fervently. 
 
 Mrs. Eocke sighed. She remembered that the arrange- 
 ment that permitted Clara to live at her own home with her 
 chosen friends was but a verbal one, not binding upon the 
 guardian and executor^ unless he chose to consider it so. 
 
 Their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a 
 servant with a message from Colonel Le Xoir, expressing a 
 hope that Miss Day felt better from her afternoon's repose, 
 and desiring the favor of her company in the library. 
 
 Clara returned an answer pleading indisposition, and 
 begging upon that account to be excused. 
 
 At tea, however, the whole family met again. As be- 
 fore. Colonel Le Xoir exerted himself to please the ladies, 
 and treated the young man with marked neglect. This 
 conduct offended Miss Day to such a degree that she, being 
 a girl of truth in thought, wwd and deed, could only exhibit 
 towards the guest the most freezing politeness that was 
 consistent with her position as hostess, and she longed for 
 the time to come that should deliver their peaceful home 
 and loving little circle from the unwelcome presence of this 
 arro2:ant intruder. 
 
 "How can he imagine that I can be pleased with his 
 deference and courtesy and elaborate compliments, when he 
 permits himself to be so rude to Traverse ? I hope Tra- 
 verse will tell him of our engagement, which will, perhaps, 
 suggest to him the propriety of reforming his manners, 
 while he remains under a roof of which Traverse is the 
 destined master !" said Clara to herself^ as she arose from 
 
294 
 
 THE ORPHAN. 
 
 the table, and with a cold bow, turned to retire from the 
 room. 
 
 ^'And will not my fair ward give me a few hours of her 
 company this evening V' inquired Colonel Le Noir, in an 
 insinuating voice, as he took and pressed the hand of the 
 doctor^s orphan daughter. 
 
 '^Excuse me, sir ; but except at meal times, I have not 
 left my room since — here her voice broke down — she 
 could not speak to him of her bereavement, or give way, in 
 his presence, to her holy sorrow. Besides, sir,^' she 
 added, Doctor Eocke, I know, has expressed to you his 
 desire for an early interview." 
 
 My fair young friend, Doctor Rocke, as you style the 
 young man, will please be so condescending as to tarry the 
 leisure of his most humble servant," replied the colonel, 
 with an ironical bow in the direction of Traverse. 
 
 ''Perhaps, sir, when you know that Doctor Rocke is 
 charged with the last uttered will of my dear father, and 
 that it is of more importance than you are prepared to 
 anticipate, you may be willing to favor us all by granting 
 this 'young man ' an early audience," said Clara. 
 
 " The last uttered will ! I had supposed that the will 
 of my late brother-in-law was regularly drawn up and exe- 
 cuted and in the hands of his confidential attorney at 
 Staunton." 
 
 "Yes, sir, so it is ; but I refer to my father's last dying 
 wishes, his verbal directions entrusted to his confidential 
 friend. Doctor Rocke," said Clara. 
 
 " Last verbal directions, entrusted to Doctor Roche. 
 Humph ! humph ! this would require corroborative evi- 
 dence," said the colonel. 
 
 " Such corroborative evidence can be had, sir," said 
 Clara, coldly; '^and as I know that Doctor Rocke has 
 already requested an interview for the sake of an explana- 
 tion of these subjects, I must also join my own request to 
 his, and assure you that by giving him an early opportunity 
 
THE OEPHAN. 
 
 295 
 
 of coming to an understanding with you, you will greatly 
 oblige me.'^ 
 
 "^'Then, undoubtedly, my sweet young friend, your 
 
 wishes shall be commands Eh ! you — sir ! Doctor — 
 
 What^s-your name I — meet me in the library at ten o'clock 
 to-morrow morning/^ said Le Xoir, insolently. 
 
 " I have engagements, sir, that will oceupy me between 
 the hours of ten and three — before or after that period I 
 am at your disposal/*^ said Traycrse, coldly. 
 
 "Pardieu ! It seems to me that / am placed at 
 yoiLTS !" replied the colonel, lifting his eyebrows ; ^^but as 
 I am so placed by the orders of my fair little tyrant here, 
 so be it I — at nine to-morrow 1 am your most obedient ser- 
 vant !" 
 
 ''At nine then, sir, I shall attend you," said Traverse, 
 with a cold bow. 
 
 Clara slightly courtesied and withdrew from the room, 
 attended by Mrs. Rocke. 
 
 Traverse, as the only representative of host, remained 
 for a short time with his uncourteous guest, who, totally 
 regardless of his presence, threw himself into an arm chair, 
 lighted a cigar, took up a book, and smoked and read. 
 
 Whereupon Traverse, seeing this, withdrew to the 
 library to employ himself with finishing the arranging and 
 tying up of certain papers, left to his charge by Doctor 
 Day. 
 
296 
 
 THE OEPHAn'8 TRIAL. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE ORPHAN^S TRIAL. 
 
 " We met ere yet the world had come 
 
 To wither up the springs of youth, 
 Amid the holy joys of home, 
 
 And in the first warm blush of youth. 
 We parted as they never part 
 
 Whose tears are doomed to be forgot ; 
 On, by what agony of heart, 
 
 Forget me not ! — forget me not !" — Anonymous. 
 
 At nine o'clock the next morning Traverse Avent to the 
 library to keep his tryst with Colonel Le Noir. 
 
 Seated in the doctor's leathern chair, with his head 
 thrown back, his nose erect, and his white and jeweled hand 
 caressing his mustachoed chin, the colonel awaited the 
 young man's communication. 
 
 With a slight bow. Traverse took a chair and drew it np 
 to the table, seating himself, and after a little hesitation, 
 commenced, and in a modest and self-respectful manner 
 announced that he was charged with tlie last verbal in- 
 structions from the doctor to the executor of his will. 
 
 Colonel Le Noirleft off caressing his chin for an instant, 
 and with a waive of his dainty hand, silently intimated that 
 the young man should proceed. 
 
 Traverse then began and delivered the dying directions 
 of the late doctor, to the effect that his daughter Clara Day 
 should not be removed from her paternal mansion, but that 
 she should be suffered to remain there, retaining as a 
 matronly companion, her old fiiond Mrs. Marah Rocke. 
 
 Umm ! umm ! very ingenious, upon my word,^' com- 
 mented the colonel, still caressing his chin. 
 
THE orphan's trial. 
 
 297 
 
 ''I liave now delivered my whole message, sir, and have 
 only to add that I hope, for Miss Day's sake, there will be 
 no difficulty thrown in the way of the execution of her 
 father's last wishes, which are also, sir, very decidedly her 
 own/' said Traverse. 
 
 Umm— doubtless they are — and also yours and your 
 worthy mother's." 
 
 Sir, Miss Day's will in this matter is certainly mme. 
 Apart from the consideration of her pleasure, 7m/ wishes 
 need not be consulted. As soon as I have seen Miss Day 
 made comfortable, I leave for the far west," said Traverse, 
 with much dignity. 
 
 Umm — and leave mamma here to guard the golden 
 prize until your return, eh ?" sneered the colonel. 
 
 Sir, I do not — wish to understand you," said Traverse 
 with a flushed brow. 
 
 Possibly not, my excellent young friend," said the 
 colonel, ironically ; then rising from his chair and elevating 
 his voice he cried — But /, sir, understand yotc and your 
 mother and your pretty scheme, perfectly ! Very ingenious 
 invention these ^ last verbal instructions."* Very pretty plan 
 to entrap an heiress j but it shall not avail you — adven- 
 turers that you are ? — This afternoon, Sauter, the confiden- 
 tial attorney of my late brother-in-law, will be here with 
 the will, which shall be read in the presence of the assem- 
 bled household. If these hist verbal directions are to be 
 found duplicated in the will, very good ! they shall be 
 obeyed ! — if not, they shall be discredited," 
 
 Daring this speech. Traverse stood with kindling eyes 
 and blazing cheeks, scarcely able to master his indignation ; 
 yet, to his credit be it spoken, he did * rnle his own spirit' 
 and reply with dignity and calmness. 
 
 Colonel Le Noir, my testimony in regard to the last 
 wishes of Dr. Day can, if necessary, be supported by other 
 evidence — though I do not believe that any man who did 
 
298 
 
 THE orphan's trial. 
 
 not Mmself act in habitual disregard of truth, would 
 "wantonly question the veracity of another,^' 
 
 " Sir ! — this to me V* exclaimed Le ^N'oir, growing white 
 with rage, and making a step towards the young man. 
 
 Yes, Colonel Le Noir, that to you I and this in addi- 
 tion : — you have presumed to charge my mother (in con- 
 nection with myself) with being an adventuress ! with 
 forming dishonorable ^ schemes !' and in so charging her. 
 Colonel Le Noir, you utter a falsehood" 
 
 Sirrah !" cried Le Noir, striding towards Traverse 
 and raising his hand over his head — with a fearful oath — 
 retract your words, or " 
 
 Traverse calmly drew himself up, folded his arms, and 
 replied coolly : 
 
 " I am no brawler. Colonel Le Noir ; the pistol and the 
 bowie-knife are as strange to my hands as abusive epithets 
 and profane language are to my lips ; nevertheless, instead 
 of retracting my words, I repeat and reiterate them. If 
 you charge my mother with conspiracy, you utter a false- 
 hood. As her son, I am in duty bound to say as much." 
 
 " Villain \" gasped Le ISToir, shaking his fist and 
 choking with rage ; villain 1 you shall repent this in 
 every vein of your body V* 
 
 Then seizing his hat, he strode from the room. 
 
 " Boaster V' said Traverse to himself, as he also left the 
 library by another door. 
 
 Clara was waiting for him in the little parlor below. 
 Well, well, dear Traverse V said she, as he entered. 
 ^* You have had the explanation with my guardian, and — 
 he makes no objection to carrying out the last directions of 
 my father, and our own wishes ? — he is willing to leave me 
 here r 
 
 My dear girl. Colonel Le Noir defers all decision until 
 the reading of the will, which is to take place this after- 
 noon,'' said Traverse, unwilling to add to her distress by 
 
THE ORPHA^^'s TRIAL. 
 
 299 
 
 recountiug the disgraceful scene that had just taken place 
 in the library. 
 
 Oh I these delays I tlieso delays ! Heaven give me 
 patience ! Yet I do not know why I should be so uneasy I 
 It is only a form I Of course, he will regard my father's 
 wishes.'"'* 
 
 I do not see Avell how he can avoid doing so^ espe- 
 cially as Doct'>r Williams is another witness to them, and I 
 shall request the doctor's attendance here this afternoon. 
 Dear Clara, k-ep up yuur spirits I A few hours, now, and 
 all will be well,'' said Traverse, as he drew on his gloves 
 and took his liLit to go on his morning round of calls. 
 
 An early dinner was ordered, for the purpose of giving 
 ample time in the afternoon for the reading of the will. 
 
 Owing to the kindly forbearance of each member of 
 this little family, their meeting with their guest at the 
 table was not so awkward as it might have been rendered. 
 Mrs. Rocke had concealed the insults that had been offered 
 her. Traverse had said nothing of the affronts put npon 
 him. So that each, having only their own private injuries 
 to resent, felt free in forbearing. Nothing but this sort 
 of prudence on the part of individuals rendered their meet- 
 ing around one board possible. 
 
 While they were still at the table, the attorney, Mr. 
 Sauter, with Doctors Williams and Dawson, arrived, and 
 was shown into the library. 
 
 And very soon after the dessert was put upon the table, 
 the family left it, and, accompanied by Colonel Le ISToir, 
 adjourned to the library. After the usual salutations, t^ey 
 arranged themselves along each side of an extension table, 
 at the head of which the attorney placed himself. 
 
 In the midst of a profound silence the will was opened 
 and read. It was dated three years before. 
 
 The bulk of his estate, after the paying a few legacies, 
 was left to his esteemed brother-in-law, Gabriel Le ISToir, in 
 trust for his only daughter, Clara Day, until the latter 
 
300 
 
 THE OEPIIAN*S TEIAL. 
 
 should fittain tlio age of twenty-one, at which period she 
 was to come into possession of the |)roperty. Then fol- 
 lowed the distribution of the legacies. x\mong the rest the 
 sum of a thousand dollars left to his young friend. Traverse 
 Rocke, and another thousand to his esteemed neighbor, 
 Marali Rocke. Gabriel Le Noir was appointed sole execu- 
 tor of the will, trustee of the property, and guardian of the 
 heiress. 
 
 At the conclusion of the reading Mr. Sauter folded the 
 document and laid it upon the table. 
 
 Colonel Le Noir arose, and said : 
 The will of the late Doctor Day has been read in your 
 presence. I presume you all heard it, and that there can 
 be no mistake as to its purport. All that remains now is 
 to act upon it. I shall claim the usual privilege of twelve 
 months before administering upon the estate or paying the 
 legacies. In the meantime, I shall assume the charge of 
 my ward^s person, and convey her to my own residence, 
 known as the Hidden House. Mrs. Rocke," he said, turn- 
 ing towards the latter, your presence and that of your 
 young charge is no longer required here. Be so good as to 
 prepare Miss Day^s traveling trunks, as we set out from 
 this place to-morrow morning.-'^ 
 
 Mrs. Rocke started, looked wistfully in the face of the 
 speaker, and seeing that he was in determined earnest, 
 turned her appealing glances toward Traverse and Doctor 
 Williams. 
 
 As for Clara, her face, previously blanched with grief, 
 was now flushed with indignation. In her sudden distress 
 and i^erplexity, she knew not at once what to do. Whether 
 to utter a protest or continue silent — whether to leave the 
 room or remain. Her embarrassment was relieved by 
 Traverse, who, stooping, whispered io her : 
 
 Be calm, love ; all shall be well. Doctor Williams is 
 about to speat." 
 
THE OKPHAn's trial. 
 
 301 
 
 And at that moment indeed Doctor Williams arose, and 
 said : 
 
 " I have, Colonel Le ISToir, to endorse a dying message 
 from Doctor Day, entrusted to my young friend here to be 
 delivered to you, to the effect that it was his last desire and 
 request that his daughter, Miss Clara Day, should be per- 
 mitted to reside during the term of her minority in this her 
 patrimonial home, under the care of her present matronly 
 friend, Mrs. Marah Rocke. Doctor Eocke and myself are 
 here to bear testimony to these, the last wishes of the de- 
 parted — which wishes, I believe, also express the desires of 
 his heiress.^' 
 
 '^Oh, yes! yes P said Clara, earnestly. do very 
 much desire to remain in my own home among my own 
 familiar friends. My dear father only consulted my comfort 
 and happiness when he left these instructions." 
 
 There can be therefore no reason why Mi^ss Day should 
 be disturbed in her present home,^' said Traverse. 
 
 Colonel Le Noir smiled grimly, saying : 
 I am sorry, Doctor Williams, to differ with you, or to 
 distress Miss Day ! But if, as she says, her lamented father 
 consulted her pleasure, in those last instructions, he certainly 
 consulted nothing else — not the proprieties of convention- 
 alism, the opinion of the world, nor the future welfare of 
 his daughter. Therefore, as a man of Doctor Day^s high 
 position and character, in his sane moments, never eould 
 have made such a singular arrangement, I am forced to the 
 conclusion that he could not, at the time of giving those 
 instructions, have been in his right mind. Consequently, 
 I cannot venture to act upon any ' verbal instructions,' 
 however well attested, but shall be guided in every respect 
 by the will, executed while yet the testator was in sound 
 body and mind." 
 
 "Doctor Eocke and myself are both physicians compe- 
 tent to certify that, at the time of leaving these directions. 
 
302 
 
 THE orphan's trial. 
 
 our respected friend was perfectly sound in mind at least," 
 said Doctor Williams. 
 
 That, sir, I repeat, I contest. And acting upon the 
 authority of the will, I shall proceed to take charge of my 
 ward as well as of her estate. And as 1 think this house, 
 under all the circumstances, a very improper place for her 
 to remain, I shall convey her without delay to my own home. 
 Mrs. Rocke, I believe I requested you to see to the packing 
 of Miss Day^s trunks." 
 
 " Oh, heaven, s?iall this wrong be permitted," ejaculated 
 Marah. 
 
 " Mrs. Rocke, I will not go unless absolutely forced to 
 do so by a decree of the court ! I shall get Doctor Williams 
 to make an appeal for me to the Orphan's Court," said 
 Clara, by way of encouraging her friend. 
 
 ''My dear Miss Day, that, I hope, will not be required. 
 Colonel Le Noir acts under a misapprehension of the cir- 
 cumstances. *We must enter into more explanations with 
 him. In the meantime, my dear young lady, it is better 
 that you should obey him, for the present, at least, so far 
 as retiring from the room," said Doctor Williams. 
 
 Clara immediately arose, and requesting Mrs. Rocke to 
 accompany her, withdrew from the library. 
 
 Doctor Williams then said : 
 
 '' I advised the retirement of the young lady, liaving a 
 communication to make, the hearing of which in a mixed 
 company, might have cost her an innocent blush. But 
 first I would ask you. Colonel Le Noir — what are those 
 circumstances to which you allude which render Miss Day's 
 residence here, in her patrimonial mansion with her old 
 and faithful friends, so improper ?" inquired Doctor 
 Williams, courteously. 
 
 (( The growing intimacy, sir, between herself and a very 
 objectionable party — this young man Rocke !" replied Col- 
 onel Le Noir. 
 
THE orphan's trial. 
 
 303 
 
 Ah ! and is that all V 
 
 "It is enough, sir I" said Colonel Le Noii% loftily. 
 Then, suppose I should inform you, sir, that this 
 young man, Doctor Eocke, was brought up and educated 
 at Doctor Day's cost, and under his own immediate eye V 
 
 ^'^Then, sir, you would only inform me that an eccen- 
 tric gentleman of fortune had done — what eccentric gentle- 
 men of fortune luill sometimes do — educated a pauper." 
 
 At this opprobious epithet. Traverse, with flushed face 
 started to his feet. 
 
 Sit down, my boy, sit down ; leave me to deal with 
 this man," said Doctor Williams, forcing Traverse back 
 into his seat. Then turning to Colonel Le Noir, he said : 
 
 " But, suppose, sir, that such was the estimation in 
 which Doctor Day held the moral and intellectual worth 
 of his young protegee, that he actually gave him his 
 daughter ?" 
 
 '^I cannot suppose an impossibility. Doctor Williams," 
 replied Colonel Le Noir, haughtily. 
 
 "Then, sir, I have the pleasure of startling you a little 
 by a prodigy, that you denominate an impossibility ! Clara 
 Day and Traverse Rocke were betrothed with full knowledge 
 and cordial approbation of the young lady's father !" 
 
 " Impossible ! preposterous ! I shall countenance no 
 such ridiculous absurdity !" said Colonel Le ISToir, growing 
 red in the face. 
 
 " Miss Day, Doctor Rocke, Mrs. Rocke, and myself are 
 witnesses to that fact." 
 
 " The young lady and the young man are parties imme- 
 diately concerned — they cannot be received as witnesses in 
 their own case ; Mrs. Rocke is too much in their interest for 
 her evidence to be taken ; you, sir, I consider the dupe of 
 these cunning conspirators — mother and son," replied Colo- 
 nel Le Noir, firmly. 
 
 " Tut," said Doctor Williams, almost out of patience, 
 " I do not depend upon the words of Miss Day and her 
 
304 
 
 THE orphan's trial. 
 
 friends, although I hold their veracity to be above question ; 
 I had Doctor Day's dying words to the same effect. And he 
 mentioned the existing betrothal as the very reason why 
 Clara should remain here in the care of her future mother- 
 in-law." 
 
 Then, sir, that the doctor should have spoken and 
 acted thus, is only another and a stronger reason for believ- 
 ing him to have been deranged in his last moments ! You 
 need give yourself no farther trouble ! I shall act upon the 
 authority of this instrument which I hold in my hand," 
 replied Colonel Le I^"oir, haughtily. 
 
 Then, as the depository of the dying man's last wishes 
 and as the next friend of his injured daughter, I shall 
 make an appeal to the Orphans' Court," said Doctor Wil- 
 liams, coldly. 
 
 ''You can do as you please about that; but in the 
 meanwhile, acting upon the authority of the will, I shall to- 
 morrow morning set out with my ward for my own home." 
 
 ''There may be time to arrest that journey," said Doc- 
 tor Williams, arising and taking his hat to go. 
 
 In the passage he met Mrs. Eocke. 
 
 " Dear Doctor Williams," said Mrs. Eocke, earnestly, 
 "pray come up to poor Clara's room, and speak to her, if 
 you can possibly say anything to comfort her ; she is weep- 
 ing herself into a fit of illness at the bare thought of being, 
 so soon after her dreadful bereavement, torn away from 
 her home and friends." 
 
 " Tut ! tut ! no use in weeping ! all will yet be right !" 
 
 "You have persuaded that man to permit her to remain 
 here, then ?" said Marah gladly. 
 
 " Persuaded Am no, nor even undertaken to do so! 
 I never saw him before to-day, yet I would venture to say, 
 from what I have now seen of him, that he never was per- 
 suaded by any agent except his own passions and interests, 
 to any act whatever. !N"o, I have endeavored to show him 
 that we have law as well as justice on our side, and even 
 
THE orphan's TKIAL. 
 
 305 
 
 now I am afraid I shall have to take the case before the 
 Orphans' Court before I can convince him. He purposes 
 removing Clara to-morrow morning. I will endeavor to 
 see the Judge of the Orphans' Court to-night, take out a 
 habeas corpus, ordering Le Noir to bring his ward into 
 court, and serve it on him as he passes through Staunton 
 on his way home." 
 
 '^But is there no way of preventing him from taking 
 Clara away from the house to-morrow morning 
 
 No good way. No, Madam, it is best that all things 
 should be done decently and in order. I advise you, as I 
 shall also advise my young friends. Traverse and Clara, not 
 to injure their own cause by unwise impatience or opposition. 
 We should go before the Orphans' Court with the very best 
 aspect.'' 
 
 Come, then, and talk to Clara. She has the most 
 painful antipathy to the man who claims the custody of her 
 person, as well as the most distressing reluctance to leaving 
 her dear home and friends ; and all this, in addition to her 
 recent heavy affliction, almost overwhelms the poor child," 
 said Mrs. Rocke, weeping. 
 
 " I will go at once and do what I can to soothe her," 
 said Doctor Williams, following Mrs. Eocke, who led him 
 up to Clara's room. 
 
 They found her prostrate upon her bed, crushed with 
 grief. 
 
 Come, come, my dear girl, this is too bad ! It is not 
 like the usual noble fortitude of our Clara," said the old 
 man, kindly taking her hand. 
 
 *'0h. Doctor, . forgive — forgive me! but my courage 
 must have been very small, for I fear it is all gone. But 
 then, indeed, everything comes on me at once. My dear, 
 dear father's death ; then the approaching departure and 
 expected long absence of Traverse ! All that was grievous 
 enough to bear ; and now to be torn away from the home 
 of my childhood, and from the friend that has always been 
 
306 
 
 THE orphan's trial. 
 
 a mother to me, and bj a man, from whom every true, good 
 instinct of my nature teaches me to shrink. I, who have 
 always had full liberty in the house of my dear father, to be 
 forced away against my will by this man, as if I were his 
 slave V' exclaimed Clara, bursting into fresh tears of indig- 
 nation and grief. 
 
 Clara, my dear, dear girl ! this impatience and rebel- 
 lion is so unlike your gentle nature, that I can scarcely rec- 
 ognize you for the mild and dignified daughter of my old 
 friend ! Clara, if the saints in Heaven could grieve at any- 
 thing, I should think your dear father would be grieved to 
 see you thus !" said the old man in gentle rebuke, that 
 immediately took effect upon the meek and conscientious 
 maiden. 
 
 " Oh ! I feel — I feel that I am doing very wrong, but I 
 cannot help it. I scarcely know myself in this agony of 
 mingled grief, indignation and terror, yes, terror, for every 
 instinct of my nature teaches me to distrust and fear that 
 man, in whom my father must have been greatly deceived 
 before he could have intrusted him with the guardianship 
 of his only child V* 
 
 think that quite likely, said the old man, '^yet, 
 my dear, even in respect to your dear father^s memory, you 
 must try to bear this trial patiently.^^ 
 
 Oh, yes ! I know I must ! Dear father, if you can 
 look down and see me now, forgive your poor Clara, her 
 anger and her impatience. She will try to be wortliy of 
 the rearing yoa have given her, and to bear even this great 
 trial, with the spirit worthy of your daughter said Clara, 
 within her own heart, then speaking up, she said, " You 
 shall have no more reason to reprove me, Doctor Wil- 
 liams." 
 
 That is my brave girl ! That is my dear Clara Day ! 
 And now, when your guardian directs you to prepare your- 
 self for your journey, obey liim — go with him without mak- 
 ing any objection. I purpose to arrest your journey at 
 
THE oepban's trial. 
 
 307 
 
 Staunton with a habeas cor^ous that he dare not resist, and 
 which shall compel him to bring you into the Orphans' 
 Court ! There our side shall be heard, and the decision 
 will rest with the Judge/'' 
 
 And all will be well ! Oh, say that, sir ! to give me 
 the courage to act with becoming docility," pleaded Clara. 
 
 I have not a doubt in this world that it ivill all be 
 right ! for however Colonel Le Noir may clioose to disre- 
 gard the last wishes of your father, as attested by myself 
 and young Kocke, I have not the least idea that the judge 
 will pass them over ! On the contrary, I feel persuaded 
 that he will confirm them by sending you back here to 
 your beloved home." 
 
 '*0h, may heaven grant it," said Clara. ''You do 
 indeed give me new life !" 
 
 " Yes, yes, be cheerful, my dear ; trust in Providence, 
 and expect nothing short of the best. And now I dare not 
 tarry longer with you, for I must see the judge at his house 
 this night ! Good-bye, my dear ! keep up a good heart !" 
 said the old man, cheerfully, pressing her hand and taking 
 his leave. 
 
 Mrs. Rocke accompanied him to the hall-door. 
 
 '' My dear Madam, keep up your spirits also for the 
 sake of your young charge ! Make her go to bed early ! 
 To-morrow, when she thinks she is about to be torn from 
 you forever, remind her in her ear that I shall meet the 
 carriage at Staunton with a power that shall turn the 
 horses' heads." 
 
 And so saying, the worthy old gentleman departed. 
 
 As Marah Rocke looked after him, she also saw with 
 alarm that Colonel Le ISToir had mounted his horse and 
 galloped off in the direction of Staunton, as if impelled by 
 the most urgent haste. 
 
 She returned to the bedside of Clara, and left her no 
 more that night. As the colonel did not return to supper, 
 they, the family party, had their tea in Clara^s room. 
 
308 
 
 THE ORPHAN S TRIAL. 
 
 Late at night Mrs. Rocke heard Colonel Le ISToir come 
 into the house and enter his chamber. 
 
 Poor Clara slept no more that night ; anxiety, despite 
 of all her efforts, kept her wide awake. Yet, though 
 anxious and wakeful, yet by prayer and endeavor she had 
 brought her mind into a patient and submissiye mood, so 
 that when a servant knocked at her door in the morning 
 with a message from Colonel Le Noir that she should be 
 ready to set forth immediately after breakfast, she replied 
 that she should obey him, and without delay she arose and 
 commenced her toilet. 
 
 All the family met for the last time around the board. 
 The party was constrained. The meal was a gloomy one. 
 On rising from the table Colonel Le Noir informed his 
 ward that his traveling carriage was waiting, and that her 
 baggage was already on, and requested her to put on her 
 bonnet and mantle, and take leave of her servants. 
 
 Clara turned to obey. Traverse went to her side, and 
 whispered : 
 
 Take courage, dear love ; my horse is saddled ; I shall 
 ride in attendance upon the carriage, whether that man 
 likes it or not ; nor lose sight of you for one moment until 
 we meet Williams with his habeas corpus" 
 
 '^Nor even then, dear Traverse ! nor even then ! You 
 will attend me to the court and be ready to take me back 
 to this dear, dear home \" murmured Clara, in reply. 
 
 Yes, yes, dear girl. There, be cheerful," whispered 
 the young man, as he pressed her hand and released it. 
 
 Colonel Le Noir had been a silent but frownirg spectator 
 of this little scene, and now that Clara was leaving the 
 room, attended by Mrs. Rocke, he called the latter back, 
 saying : 
 
 " You will be so kind as to stop here a moment, Mrs. 
 Rocke, and you also, young man." 
 
 The mother and son paused to hear what he should have 
 to say. 
 
THE OEPHAn's trial. 
 
 309 
 
 ^' 1 believe it is the custom here, in discharging domes- 
 tics^ to give a month^s warning, or_, in lieu of that, to pay a 
 month^s wages in advance. There, woman, is the money. 
 You will oblige me by leaving the house to-day, together 
 with your son and all your other trumpery — as the premises 
 are put in charge of an agent, who will be here this after- 
 noon, clothed with authority to eject all loiterers and in- 
 truders." 
 
 While the colonel spoke, Marah Rocke gazed at him in 
 a panic from which she seemed unable to rouse herself, until 
 Traverse gravely took her hand, saying ; 
 
 "My dear mother, let me conduct you from the pres- 
 ence of this man, who does not know how to behave him- 
 self towards women. Leave me to talk with him, and do 
 you, dear mother, go to Miss Day, who I know is waiting 
 for jou." 
 
 Marah Rocke mechanically complied, and allowed Tra- 
 verse to lead her from the room. 
 
 When he returned, he went up to Colonel Le Noir, and 
 standing before him and looking him full and sternly in the 
 face, said, as sternly : 
 
 Colonel Le Noir, my mother will remain Jiere and abide 
 the decision of the Orphans^ Court ; until that has been 
 pronounced, she does not stu' at your or any man^s bidding." 
 
 " Villain ! out of my way !" sneered Le Noir, endeavor- 
 ing to pass him. 
 
 Traverse prevented him, saying : 
 
 " Sir, in consideration of your age, which should be 
 venerable, your position which should prove you honorable, 
 and of this sacred house of mourning in which you stand, I 
 have endeavored to meet all the insults you have offered me 
 with forbearance. But, sir, I am here to defend my 
 mother's rights and to protect her from insult. And I tell 
 you plainly that you have affronted her for the very last 
 time. One more word or look of insult levelled at Marah 
 Rocke, and neither your age, position, nor this sacred roof 
 
310 
 
 THE orphan's trial. 
 
 fihall protect you from personal chastisement at the hands 
 of her son." 
 
 Le Koir, who had listened in angry scorn, with many an 
 ejaculation of contempt, now at the conclusion which so 
 galled his pride, broke out furiously, with : 
 
 Sir, you are a bully ! If you were a gentleman I 
 would call you out." 
 
 And I should not come if you did, sir. Dueling is un- 
 christian, barbarous and abominable in the sight of God 
 and all good men. For the rest you may call me anything 
 you please ; but do not again insult my mother, for if you 
 do, I shall hold it a Christian duty to teach you better man- 
 ners, said Traverse, coolly taking his hat and walking 
 from the room. 
 
 He mounted his horse, and stood ready to attend Clara 
 to Staunton. 
 
 Colonel Le Noir ground his teeth in impotent rage, mut- 
 tering : 
 
 " Take care, young man. I shall live to be revenged 
 upon you yet for these affronts I" 
 
 And his dastard heart burned with the fiercer malignity 
 that he had not dared to meet the eagle eye or encounter 
 the strong arm of the upright and stalwart young man. 
 Gnashing his teeth with ill-suppressed fury, he strode 
 into the hall just as Mrs. Kocke and Clara in her traveling 
 dress, descended the stairs. 
 
 Clara threw her arms around Mrs. Kocke's neck, and 
 weeping, said : 
 
 Good-bye ! dear, best friend ! good-bye ! Heaver 
 grant it may not be for long. Oh, pray for me that I may 
 be sent back to you I" 
 
 *^May the Lord have you in His holy keeping, mj 
 child ! I shall pray until I hear from you \" said Marah, 
 kissing and releasing her. 
 
 Colonel Le Noir then took her by the hand, led her out, 
 and put her into the carriage. 
 
THE ORPHAN S TEIAL. 311 
 
 Just before entering, Clara had turned to take a last 
 lo3k at her old home : all, friends and seryants, noticed the 
 sorrowful, anxious, almost despairing look of her pale face, 
 which seemed to ask : 
 
 " Ah, shall I ever, ever return to you, dear old home, 
 and dear, familiar friends V 
 
 In another instant, she had disappeared within the car- 
 riage — which immediately rolled off. 
 
 As the carriage was heayily laden, and the road was in 
 a yery bad condition, it was a full hour before they reached 
 the town of Staunton. As the carriage drew up for a few 
 moments before the door of the principal hotel, and Colo- 
 nel Le Xoir was in the act of stepping out, a sheriS's 
 officer, accompanied by Dr. Williams, approached, and 
 seired upon the Colonel a writ of liaheas corj)us, com- 
 manding him to bring his ward, Clara Day, into court. 
 
 Colonel Le Noir laughed scornfully, saying : 
 
 " And do any of you imagine this will serye your pur- 
 poses ? Ha I ha ! the most that it can do will be to delay 
 my journey for a few hours, until the decision of the judge, 
 which will only serve to confirm my authority beyond all 
 future possibility of questioning.'-' 
 
 We will see that,^' said Dr. "Williams. 
 
 Driye to the coui-t-house,^' ordered Colonel Le Xoir. 
 
 And the carriage, attended by Traverse Eocke, Dr. Wil- 
 liams, and the sheriff^'s officer, each on horseback, drove 
 thither. 
 
 And now, reader, I will not trouble you with a detailed 
 account of this trial. Clara, clothed in deep mourning^ 
 and looking pale and terrified, was led into the court-room 
 on the arm of her guardian. She was followed closely by 
 her friends. Traverse Eocke and Dr. Williams, each of 
 whom whispered encouraging words to the orphan. 
 
 As the court had no pressiag business on its hands, the 
 case was immediately taken up, the will was read and 
 attested by the attorney, who had drawn it up, arid the 
 
312 
 
 THE orphan's trial. 
 
 witnesses who liad signed it. Then tlie evidence of Dr. 
 Willia,ms and Dr. Rocke was taken concerning the last ver- 
 bal instructions of the deceased. The case occupied about 
 three hours, at the end of which the judge gave a decision 
 in favor of Colonel Le 'Noir. 
 
 This judgment carried consternation to the heart of 
 Clara and all her friends. 
 
 Clara herself sank nearly fainting in the arms of her 
 old friend, the venerable Dr Williams. 
 
 Traverse, in bitterness of spirit, approached and bent 
 over her. 
 
 Colonel Le Noir spoke to the judge. 
 
 " I deeply thank your honor for the i)rompt hearing and 
 equally prompt decision of this case, and I will beg your 
 honor to order the sheriff and his ofiQcers to see your judg- 
 ment carried into effect, as I foresee violent opposition, and 
 wish to prevent trouble.'^ 
 
 Certainly, Mr. Sheriff, you will see that Colonel Le 
 Noir is put in possession of his ward and protected in that 
 right until he shall have placed her in security," said the 
 judge. 
 
 Clara, on hearing these words, lifted her head from the 
 old man's bosom, nerved her gentle heart ; and in a clear, 
 sweet, steady voice, said : 
 
 ^^It is needless precaution, your honor ; my friends are 
 no law-breakers ; and since the Court has given me into the 
 custody of my guardian, I do not dispyte its judgment — I 
 yield myself up to Colonel Le Noir." 
 
 " You do well, young lady," said the judge. 
 I am pleased. Miss Day, to see that you understand 
 and perform your duty ; believe me, I shall do all that I 
 can to make you happy," said Colonel Le Noir. 
 
 Clara replied by a gentle nod ; and then, with a slight 
 blush mantling her pure cheeks, she advanced a step, and 
 placed herself immediately in front of the judge, saying : 
 But there is a word that I would speak to your honor." 
 
THE orphan's TEIAL. 
 
 313 
 
 Say on, yoimg lady/^ said the judge. 
 
 x\nd as she stood there in her deep mourning dress, with 
 her fair hair unbound and floating softly around her pale, 
 sweet face, every eye in that court was spell-bound by her 
 almost unearthly beauty. Before ^^roceeding with what she 
 was about to say she turned upon Traverse a look that 
 brought him immediately to her side. 
 
 Your honor," she began, in a low, sweet, clear tone, 
 '^I owe it to Doctor Rocke here present, who has been 
 sadly misrepresented to you, to say (what under less seri- 
 ous circumstances my girFs heart would shrink from avow- 
 ing so publicly) that I am his betrothed wife — sacredly 
 betrothed to him by almost the last act of my dear father^s 
 life. I hold this engagement to be so holy that no earthly 
 tribunal can break or disturb it. And while I bend to 
 your honor's decision, and yield myself to the custody of 
 my legal guardian for the period of my minority, I here 
 declare to all who may be interested, that I hold my hand 
 and heart irrevocably pledged to Doctor Rocke, and that, 
 as his betrothed wife, I shall consider myself bound to cor- 
 respond with him regularly, and to receive him as often as 
 he shall seek my society, until my majority, when I and 
 all that I possess will become his own. And these words I 
 force myself to speak, your honor, both in justice to my 
 dear lost father and liis friend Traverse Rocke, and also to 
 myself, that hereafter no one may venture to accuse me of 
 clandestine proceedings, or distort my actions into impro- 
 prieties, or in any manner call in question the conduct of 
 my father's daughter." And, with another gentle bow, 
 Clara retired to the side of her old friend. 
 
 ^'You are likely to have a troublesome charge in your 
 ward," said the sheriff apart to the colonel, who shrugged 
 his shoulders by way of reply. 
 
 The heart of Traverse was torn by many conflicting pas- 
 sions, emotions and impulses ; there was indignation at the 
 
3M 
 
 THE orphan's TEIAL. 
 
 decision of the court ; grief for the loss of Clara, and dread 
 for her future ! 
 
 One instant he felt a temptation to denounce the guar- 
 dian as a villain and to charge the judge with being a cor- 
 rupt politician, whose decisions were swayed by party 
 interests. 
 
 The next moment he felt an impulse to catch Clara up 
 in his arms, fight his way through the crowd and carry her 
 off. But all these wild emotions, passions and impulses he 
 succeeded in controlling. 
 
 Too well he know that rage, do violence, or commit 
 extravagance as he might, the law would take its course all 
 the same. 
 
 While his heart was torn in this manner. Colonel Le 
 Noir was urging the departure of his ward. And Clara 
 came to her lover's side and said, gravely and sweetly : 
 
 " The law, you see, has decided against us, dear Trav- 
 erse ! let us bend gracefully to a decree that we cannot annul ; 
 it cannot at least, alter our sacred relations ; nor can any- 
 thing on earth shake our steadfast faith in each other ; let 
 us take comfort in that, and in the thought that the years 
 will surely roll round at length and bring the time that shall 
 re-unite us."*^ 
 
 Oh, my angel-girl ! my angel-girl ! your patient hero- 
 ism puts me to the blush, for my heart is crushed in my 
 bosom and my firmness quite gone I" said Traverse, in a 
 broken voice. 
 
 ^' You will gain firmness, dear Traverse. ' Patient 
 /patient ! you should have heard me last niglit ! I was so 
 impatient that Doctor Williams had to lecture me. But it 
 would be strange if one did not leai-n something by suffer- 
 ing. I have been trying all night and day to school my 
 heart to submission, and I hope I have succeeded. Trav- 
 erse. Bless me and bid me good-bye/' 
 
 " The Lord forever bless and keep you, my own dear 
 
THE orphan's trial. 
 
 315 
 
 angel, Clara V burst from the lips of Traverse : the Lord 
 
 abundantly bless you !" 
 ''And you r said Clara. 
 Good-bye ! good-bye 
 Good-bye/' 
 And thus they parted. 
 
 Clara was hurried away and put into the carriage by 
 her guardian. 
 
 Ah ! no one but the Lord knew how much it had cost 
 that poor girl to maintain her fortitude during that trying 
 scene. She had controlled herself for the sake of her 
 friends. But now, when she found herself in the carriage, 
 her long strained nerves gave way — she sank exhausted and 
 prostrated into the corner of her seat, in the utter collapse 
 of woe. 
 
 But leaving the travelers to pursue their journey, we 
 must go back to Traverse. 
 
 Almost broken-hearted, Traverse returned to Willow 
 Heights to convey the sad tidings of his disappointment to 
 his mother's ear. 
 
 Marah Eocke was so overwhelmed with grief at the 
 news, that she was for several hours incapable of action. 
 
 The arrival of the house-agent was the first event that 
 recalled her to her senses. 
 
 She aroused herself to action, and assisted by Traverse, 
 set to work to pack up her own and his wardrobe, and 
 other personal effects. 
 
 And the next morning Marah Rocke was re-established 
 in her cottage. 
 
 And the next week, having equally divided their little 
 capital, the mother and son parted — Traverse, by her 
 express desire, keeping to his original plan, set out for the 
 Ear West. 
 
316 
 
 OLD HUERICANE STOEMB. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIL 
 
 OLD HUKRIOAlSrE STORMS. 
 
 " *At this sir knight flamed up with ire ! 
 His great chest heaved, his eyes flashed fire, 
 The crimson that suffused his face 
 To deepest purple now gave place.* " 
 
 Who can describe the frenzy of Old Hurricane upon 
 discovering the fraud that had been practiced upon him by 
 Black Donald ? 
 
 It was told him the next morning in his tent, at his 
 breakfast table, in the presence of his assembled family, by 
 the reverend Mr. Goodwin. 
 
 Upon first hearing it, he was incapable of anything but 
 blank staring, until it seemed as though his eyes must 
 start from their sockets ! 
 
 Then his passion, not loud but deep,^-' found utterance 
 only in emphatic thumps of his walking stick upon the 
 ground. 
 
 Then as the huge emotion worked upwards, it broke 
 out in grunts, groans and inarticulate exclamations. 
 Finally it burst forth as follows : 
 
 Ugh ! ugh ! ugh ! Fool ! dolt ! blockhead ! hrute 
 that I've been ! — I wish somebody would punch my wooden 
 head ! — I didn^t think the demon himself could have 
 deceived me so ! Ugh ! — Nobody hut the demon could 
 have done it. And he is the demon ! the very demon him- 
 self ! — he does not disguise he transforms himself. Ugh ! 
 ugh ! ugh ! that I should have been such a donkey.'" 
 
 Sir, compose yourself, we are all liable to suffer decep- 
 tion,'" said Mr. Goodwin. 
 
 Sir/^ broke forth Old Hurricane, in fury — " that 
 
OLD HUEKICANE STORMS. 
 
 317 
 
 wretch has ea^ fl^ my table! has drunh loine with me ! ! 
 has slept in my led ! ! ! Ugh ! ugh ! ! ugh ! ! 
 
 BelieYing him to be what he seemed^ sir, you extended 
 to him the rights of hospitality ; you have nothing to 
 blame yourself with 
 
 "Demmy, sir, I did more than that I — I have coddled 
 him up with negusses ! Fve pampered him up with possets 
 and put him to sleep in my own bed ! Yes, sir ! and more ! 
 — look there at Mrs. Condiment, sir, the way in which she 
 worshipped that villain was a sight to behold, said Old 
 Hurricane, jumping up and stamping around the tent in 
 fury. 
 
 ^' Oh, Mr. Goodwin, sir, how could / help it when I 
 thought he was such a precious saint V whimpered the old 
 lady. 
 
 " Yes, sir, when ' his Reverence ' would be tired with 
 delivering a long-winded mid-day discourse, Mrs. Condi- 
 ment, sir, would take him into her own tent, make 
 him lie down on her own sacred cot, and set my niece to 
 bathing his head with cologne and her maid to fanning 
 him, while she herself prepared an iced sherry cobbler for 
 his Reverence. Aren't you ashamed of yourself, Mrs. 
 Condiment, mum,^^ said Old Hurricane, suddenly stopping 
 before the poor old woman, in auger and scorn. 
 
 Indeed I'm sure if Fd known it was Black Donald, I'd 
 no more have suffered him inside my tent than I would 
 have Satan. 
 
 ^^Demmy, mum, you had Satan there as well. Who but 
 Satan could have tempted you all to disregard me, your law- 
 ful lord and master, as you every one of you did for that 
 wretch's sake. Hang it, parson, I wasn't the master of my 
 own house, nor the head of my own family. Precious 
 Father Gray was. Black Donald was. Oh, you shall hear,'' 
 cried Old Hurricane, in a frenzy. 
 
 ^' Pray, sir, be patient and do not blame the woman for 
 being no wiser than you were yourself/' said Mr. Goodwin, 
 
318 
 
 OLD HUREIOANE STORMS. 
 
 Tah ! tah ! tah ! one act of folly is a contingency to 
 which, any man may for once in his life be liable, but folly 
 is a woman^s normal condition. You shall hear, jou shall 
 hear. Hang it, sir, everybody had to give away to Father 
 Gray, everything was for Father Gray. Precious Father 
 Gray. Excellent Father Gray. Saintly Father Gray. It was 
 Father Gray here and Father Gray there, and Father Gray 
 everywhere and always. He ate with us all day and slept with 
 us all night. The coolest cot in the dryest nook of the tent 
 at night, the shadiest seat at the table by day, were always 
 for his Reverence, the nicest tit-bits of the choicest dishes, 
 the middle slices of the fish, the breast of the young ducks, 
 and the wings of the chickens, mealiest potatoes, the juciest 
 tomatoes, the tenderest roasting ear, the most delicate cus- 
 tards and the freshest fruit always for his Reverence. / had 
 to put up with the necks of poultry, and the tails of fishes, 
 watery potatoes, specked apples, and scorched custards ; 
 and if I dared to touch anything better before his precious 
 Reverence had eaten and was filled, Mrs. Condiment, there, 
 would look as sour as if she had bitten an unripe lemon, and 
 Cap would tread on my gouty toe. Mrs. Condiment, mum, 
 I don^t know how you can look me in the face,^^ said Old 
 Hurricane, savagely — a very unnecessary reproach, since 
 poor Mrs. Condiment had not ventured to look any one in 
 the face since the discovery of the fraud of which she, as 
 well as others, had been an innocent victim. 
 
 Come, come, my dear Major, there is no harm done to 
 you or your family ; therefore take patience,^' said Mr. 
 Goodwin. 
 
 " Demmy, sir ; I beg your pardon parson, I wonH take 
 patience. You don^t know. Hang it, man, at last they 
 got me to give up one half of my own blessed bed to his 
 precious Reverence — the host half which the fellow always 
 took, right out of the middle, leaving me to sleep on both 
 sides of him if I could. Think of it : me, Ira Warfield, 
 sleeping between the sheets, night after night, with Black 
 
OLD HURRICANE STORMS. 
 
 319 
 
 Donald ! Ugli ! ligli ! ugli ! Oh, for some letliean 
 drauglit, that I might drink and forget. Sir, I won't be 
 patient ! patience would be a sin. Mrs. Condiment, mum, 
 I desire that you will send in your account and supply 
 yourself with a new situation. You and 1 cannot agree 
 any longer. You^'ll be putting me to bed with Beelzebub 
 next r exclaimed Old Hurricane, beside himself with in- 
 dignation. 
 
 Mrs. Condiment sighed, and wiped her eyes under her 
 spectacles. 
 
 The worthy minister, seriously alarmed, came to him, 
 and said : 
 
 My dear, dear Major, do not be unjust — consider, she 
 is an old faithful domestic, who has been in your service 
 forty years — whom you could not live without. I say it 
 under advisement — whom you could not live without !" 
 
 Hang it, sir, not live with. Think of her helping to 
 free the prisoners — actually taking Black Donald— precious 
 Father Gray — into their cell, and leaving them together 
 to hatch their — I beg your pardon — horrid plots.^^ 
 
 But, sir, instead of punishing the innocent victim of 
 his deception, let us be merciful and thank the Lord that, 
 since those men were delivered from prison, they were 
 freed without bloodshed ; for remember that neither the 
 warden, nor any of his men, nor any one else, has been 
 personally injured.^' 
 
 Hang it, sir ! I wish they had cut all our throats, to 
 teach us more discretion,'' broke forth Old Hurricane. 
 
 " I am afraid that the lesson so taught would have come 
 too late to be useful," smiled the pastor. 
 
 Well, it hasn't come too late now. Mrs. Condiment, 
 mum, mind what I tell you : as soon as we return to Hur- 
 ricane Hall, send in your accounts and seek a new home. 
 I am not going to suffer myself to be set at naught any 
 longer," exclaimed Old Hurricane, bringing down his cane 
 with an emphatic thump. 
 
320 
 
 OLD nURRICANE STORM^. 
 
 The sorely troubled minister was again about to inter- 
 fere, when, as the worm, if trodden upon, will turn, Mrs. 
 Condiment herself spoke up, saying : 
 
 " Lor, Major Warfield, sir, there were others deceived 
 besides me, and as for myself, I never can think of the risk 
 IVe run without growing cold all over." 
 
 Serves you right, mum, for your officiousness and 
 obsequiousness, and toadying to — precious Mr. Gray ! 
 serves you doubly right for famishing meat my own table.'' 
 Uncle,'' said Capitola, " ^ Honor bright !' ^Fair play 
 is a jewel.' If you and I, who have seen Black Donald 
 before, failed to recognize that stalwart athlete in a seem- 
 ingly old and sickly man, how could you expect Mrs. Con- 
 diment to do so, who never saw him but once in her life, 
 and then was so much frightened that she instantly 
 fainted ?" 
 
 Pah ! Pah ! Pah ! Cap, hush ! You, all of you dis- 
 gust me, except Black Donald. I begin to respect liim ! 
 Confound me, if I don't take in all the offers I have made 
 for his apprehension ; I'll nominate him to represent us in 
 the National Congress ! — for, of all the fools that ever I have 
 met in my life, the people of this county are the greatest ! 
 and fools should at least be represented by one clever man — 
 and Black Domild is the very fellow ! He is decidedly the 
 ablest man in this congressional district." 
 
 Except yourself, dear uncle !" said Capitola. 
 Except nobody. Miss Impudence ! least of all me! 
 The experience of the last week has convinced me that I 
 ought to have a cap and bells awarded me by public acclama- 
 tion !" said Old Hurricane, stamping about in fury. 
 
 The good minister finding that he could make no sort 
 of impression upon the irate old man, soon took his leave, 
 telling Mrs. Condiment that if he could be of any service to 
 her in her trouble, she must be sure to let him know. 
 
 At this Capitola and Mrs. Condiment exchanged looks; 
 and the old lady thanking him for his kindness, said that if 
 
OLD HUEEICAXE STORMS. 
 
 821 
 
 it should become necessary^ she should gratefully avail her- 
 self of it. 
 
 That day the camp-meeting broke np. 
 
 Major TTarfield struck tents, and "with his family and 
 baggage returned to Hurricane Hall. 
 
 On their arrival^ each member of the party -went about 
 his or her ovrn particular business. 
 
 Capitola hurried to her o^vn room to take off her bonnet 
 and sha^l. Pitapat^ before attending her young mistress, 
 lingered below to astonish the honsemaids with p.c^-.,[\r.i.< of 
 "Brack Dnnnel, dress np like an ole parson, um Vciving 
 eberybody, even ole Marse I''^ 
 
 Mrs. Condiment went to her store-room to ui>y err ti.e 
 condition of her newly put up preserves audpiLLk.-. It- t 
 any of them should hare worked^* during her abic-ice. 
 
 And Old Hurricane, attended by Wool, walked down to 
 his kennels and his stables to look after the well-being tf 
 his favorite hounds and horses. It was while going through 
 this interesting investigation that Major Warfield was 
 informed — principally by overliearing the gossip of the 
 grooms with Wool — of the appearance of a new inmate of 
 the Hidden House — a young girl, who, according to their 
 description^ must have been the very pearl of beatity. 
 
 Old Hurricane pricked up his ears. Anything relating 
 to the " Hidden House ^' possessed immense interest for 
 him. 
 
 Who is she, John he inquired of the gTOom, 
 Deed I dunno, sir, only they say she^s a bootiful young 
 creature, fair as any lily, and dressed in deep mourning.''^ 
 
 " Humph I humph I humph ! another victim ! ten thou- 
 sand chances to one, another victim ! Who told yon this, 
 John r 
 
 Why, Marse, you see Tom Griffith, the Eeverend Mr. 
 Goodwin^s man, he^s very thick long of Davy Hughs, Colo- 
 nel Le lN"oir^s coachman. And Davy he told Tom how one 
 day last month his marse ordered the carriage, and went 
 
322 
 
 OLD HURRIOANE STORMS. 
 
 two or three day^s journey up the country beyant Staunton, 
 where he staid a week and then came home, fetching along 
 with him in the carriage this lovely young lady, who was 
 dressed in the deepest mourning and wept all the way. 
 They ^spects how she^s an orphan, and has lost all her friend's 
 by the way she takes on.^^ 
 
 "Another victim! My life on it, another victim! 
 Poor child ! she had better be dead tban in the power Jof 
 that atrocious villain and consummate hypocrite ?' said Old 
 Hurricane, passing on to the examination of his favorite 
 horses, one of which, the swiftest in the stud, he found 
 galled on the shoulders. Whereupon he flew into a tower- 
 ing passion, abusing his unfortunate groom, by every op- 
 probrious epithet blind fury could suggest, ordering him 
 as he valued whole bones, to vacate the stables instantly, 
 and never dare to set foot on his premises again, as he val- 
 ued his life, an order which the man meekly accepted and 
 immediately disobeyed, muttering to himself : 
 
 ^' Humph I if we took ole marse at his word, there'd 
 never be a man or ^oman left on the ^state,^' — knowing full 
 well that his tempestuous old master would probably for- 
 get all about it, as soon as he got comfortably seated at the 
 supper table of Hurricane Hall, towards which the old man 
 now trotted off. 
 
 'Not a word did Mujor Warfield say at supper in regard 
 to the new inmate of the Hidden House, for he had par- 
 ticular reasons for keeping Cap in ignorance of a neighbor, 
 lest she should insist upon exchanging visits and being 
 '^sociable." 
 
 But it was destined that Cajaitola should not remain a 
 day in ignorance of the interesting fact. 
 
 That night when she retired to her chamber, Pitapat 
 lingered behind, but presently appeared at her young mis- 
 tress's room door with a large Avaiter on her head, laden 
 with meat, pastry, jelly and fruit, which she brought in 
 and placed upon the work-stand. 
 
OLD HrRPvICAXE STORMS. 
 
 323 
 
 ^''Wliy, what ou the face of earth do you mean by 
 bringing all that load of victnals into my room to-night ? 
 Do yon think I am an ostrich or cormorant^ or that I am 
 going to entertain a party of friends." asked Capitola, in 
 astonishment, tnrning from the wash-stand, where she 
 stood bathing her face. 
 
 ^'■^Deed, I dunno, Miss, whedder you^se an ostrizant or 
 not, but I knows I don't 'tend for to be 'bused any more 
 'bout wittels, arter findin'' ont how cross empty people can 
 be I Dere cley is ! Yon can eat nm or leab nm alone, 
 Miss Caterpillar I" said little Pitapat, firmly. 
 
 Capitola laughed. P;itty,'' she said, you are worthy 
 to be called my waiting maid I"'* 
 
 " And lors knows Miss Caterpillar, if it ^2i% de vnttels 
 yon was a-frettin^ arter, you ought to a-told me before I 
 Lors knows dere's wittels enough I*' 
 
 Yes, Fm much obliged to you, Patty, but now I am 
 not hungry, and I do not like the smell of food in my bed- 
 room, so take the waiter out and set it on the passage table 
 nntil morning." 
 
 Patty obeyed, and came back smiling and saying : 
 Miss Caterpillar, has you hern de news 
 What news, Pat ?" 
 
 How ns has got a new neighbor — a bootiful young 
 gal — as bootiful as a pictcr in a gilt-edged Christmas book I 
 wid a snowy skin, and sky-blue eyes, and glistenin" goldy 
 hair like de princess you was a readin^ mo about, all in deep 
 mournin' and a weepin^ and a weepin" all alone down dere 
 in dat wicked, lonesome, outlawful ole haunted place, the 
 Hidden House, along of old Colonel Le Xoir and old 
 Dorkey Knight, and the ghost as draws people's curtains of 
 a night, just for all the work' like dat same princess in de 
 ogre's castle I" 
 
 What on earth is all this rigmarole about ? Are you 
 dreaming or romancing ?" 
 
324: 
 
 OLD HURRICANE STORMS. 
 
 Fm a telling on you de bressed truf e 1 Dere's a young 
 lady a livin^ at de Hidden House 
 " Eh I is that really true, Patty r 
 " True as preaching, Miss." 
 
 ** Then I am very glad of it ! I shall certainly ride 
 over aad call on the stranger, ''^ said Oapitola, gaily. 
 
 ' VI K Miss Cap ! oh. Miss, don^t you do no sich thing ! 
 01" M.I1.SC nie ! I heerd him threaten all de men and 
 iMiiid*. how If (ley tolled you anything 'bout de new neigh- 
 bur. iiMU lii'M skin dem alive \" 
 
 ** Won't he skin you asked Cap. 
 IN'o, Miss, not 'less you 'form ag'in me, case he didn't 
 tell me not to tell you, case you see he didn't think how I 
 knowed ! But leastways, I know from what I heard, old 
 Marse wouldn't have you to know no thin' 'bout it, no, not 
 for de whole worP." 
 
 '*He does not want me to call at the Hidden House 1 
 That's it ! Now lohy doesn't he wish me to call there ? I 
 shall have to go in order to find out, and so I will/' thought 
 Cap. 
 
cap's visit to the hidden house. 
 
 325 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 cap's visit to the HIDDEN" HOUSE. 
 
 "And such a night ' she ' took the road in 
 As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in. 
 The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last ; 
 The rattling showers rose on the blast ; 
 The speedy gleams the darkness swallowed ; 
 Loud, deep and long the thunder bellowed ; 
 That night a child might understand 
 The deHl had business on his hand." — Burns. 
 
 A TTEEK passed before Capitola carried her resolution 
 of calling upon the inmate of the Hidden House into 
 effect. It was in fact, a hot, dry, oppressive season, the 
 last few days of August, when all people, even the restless 
 Capitola, preferred the coolness and repose of indoors. 
 But that she should stay at home more than a week was a 
 moral and physical impossibility. So on Thursday after- 
 noon, when ^lajor Warfield set out on horseback to visit 
 his mill, Capitola ordered her horse saddled and brought 
 up that she miglit take an afternoon's ride. 
 
 " ^s"ow please, my dear child, don't go far," said Mrs. 
 Condiment, ^'^for besides that your uncle does not approve 
 of your ridiug alone, you must hurry back to avoid the 
 storm." 
 
 " Storm, Mrs. Condiment, why, bless your dear old 
 heart, there has not been a storm these four weeks !" said 
 Capitola, almost indignant that such an absurd objection 
 to a long ride should be raised. 
 
 " The more reason, my child, that we should have a 
 very severe one when it does come, and I think it will be 
 upon us before sunset ; so I advise you to hurry home," 
 
326 
 
 cap's visit to the hidden house. 
 
 <f Why, Mrs. Condiment ! there's not a cloud in the 
 
 sky 
 
 So much the worse, my dear. The blackest cloud that 
 ever gathered is not so ominous of mischief as this dull, 
 coppery sky and still atmosphere ; and if forty years' obser- 
 vation of weather signs goes for anything, I tell you that we 
 are going to have the awfulest storm that ever gathered in 
 the heavens ! Why, look out of that window ! the very birds 
 and beasts know it, and instinctively seek shelter ! — look at 
 that flock of crows flying home ! see how the dumb beasts 
 come trooping towards their sheds ! Oapitola, you had better 
 give up going altogether, my dear." 
 
 There ! I thought all this talk tended to keeping me 
 within doors ! but I can't stay, Mrs. Condiment ! Good 
 Mrs. Condiment, I can't !" 
 
 ''But, my dear, if you should be caught out in the 
 storm !" 
 
 ''Why, I don't know but I should like it ! What harm 
 could it do me ? I'm not soluble in water — rain won't melt 
 me away ! I think, upon the whole, I rather prefer being 
 caught in the storm !" said Cap, perversely. 
 
 " Well, well, there's no need of that ; you may ride as 
 far as the river's bank and back again in time to escape, if 
 you choose," said Mrs. Condiment, who saw that her trouble- 
 some charge was bent upon the frolic. 
 
 And Cap, seeing her horse approach, led by one of the 
 grooms, ran up stairs, donned her riding-habit, hat and 
 gloves, ran down again, sprang into her saddle, and was off, 
 galloping away towards the river before Mrs. Condiment 
 could add another word of warning. 
 
 She had been gone about an hour when the sky suddenly 
 darkened, the wind rose and the thunder rolled in prelude 
 to the storm. 
 
 Major Warfield came skurrying home from the mill, 
 grasping his bridle with one hand, and holding his hat on 
 with the other. 
 
CAP'S VISIT TO THE HIDDEN HOUSE. 
 
 327 
 
 Meeting poor old Ezy in the shrubbery, he stormed out 
 upon him with : 
 
 What are you lounging there for, you old idiot ! you 
 old sky-gazing lunatic ! don^t you see that we are going to 
 have an awful blow ? Begone with you, and see that the 
 cattle are all under shelter. Off, I say, or,^^ — he rode 
 towards Bill Ezy, but the old man, exclaiming : 
 
 " Yes, sir ! yes, sir ! in coorse, sir ducked his head, 
 and ran off in good time. 
 
 Major Warfield quickened his horse^s steps and rode to 
 the house, dismounted, and threw the reins to the stable- 
 boy, exclaiming : 
 
 ^' My beast is dripping with perspiration — rub hin. 
 down well, you knave, or Fll impale you V 
 
 Striding into the hall, he threw down^is riding- whip; 
 pulled off his gloves, and called : 
 
 'MA^ool I Wool, you scoundrel, close every door and 
 window in the house ; call all the servants together in ti.^ 
 dining-room ; we^re going to have one of the worst tempes 
 that ever raised. 
 
 Wool flew to do his bidding. 
 Mrs. Condiment, mum,^' said the old man, striding 
 into the sitting-room — ^''Mrs. Condiment, mum, tell Miss 
 Black to come down from her room until the storm is over ; 
 the upper chambers of this old house are not safe in a 
 tempest. Well, mum, why don't you go, or send Pita- 
 pat ?" 
 
 'Olajor Warfield, sir, I'm very sorry, but Miss Black 
 has not come in yet,'' said Mrs. Condiment, who for the 
 last half hour had suffered extreme anxiety upon account 
 of Capitola. 
 
 '''Not come in yet ! Demmy, mum ! do you tell me she 
 has go7ie out?" cried Old Hurricane, in a voice of thunder, 
 gathering his brows into a dark frown, and striking his cane 
 angrily upon the floor. 
 
 '^Yes, sir, I am sorry to say she rode out about an hour 
 
828 
 
 cap's visit to the hidden house. 
 
 ago and has not returned/^ said Mrs. Condiment, summon- 
 ing all her firmness to meet Old Hurricane's "roused 
 wrath." 
 
 " Ma'am ! you venture to stand there before my face and 
 tell ME composedly that you permitted Miss Black to go off 
 alone in the face of such a storm as this V roared Old Hurri- 
 cane. 
 
 " Sir, I could not help it" said the old lady. 
 
 " Demmy, mum, you sliould have helped it. A woman 
 of your age stand there and tell me that she could not pre- 
 vent a young creature like Capitola from going out alone in 
 a storm 
 
 Major Warfield, could you have done it 
 Me ? Demmy, I should think so, but that is not the 
 question. You-^- — " 
 
 He was interrupted by a blinding flash of lightning, fol- 
 lowed immediately by an awful peal of thunder and a sudden 
 fall of rain. 
 
 Old Hurricane sprang up as though he had been shot 
 off his chair, and trotted up and down the floor exclaiming : 
 
 " And she ! she out in all this storm ! Mrs. Condiment, 
 mum, you deserve to be ducked ! Yes, mum, you do ! 
 Wool ! Wool ! you diabolical villain \" 
 
 Yes, marse, yes, sir, here I is exclaimed that officer, 
 in trepidation, as he appeared in the doorway. "De 
 windows and doors, sir, is all fastened close, and de maids 
 are all in the dining-room as you ordered, and " 
 
 ''Hang the maids, and the doors and windows, too! 
 who the demon cares about them ? How dared you, you 
 knave, permit your young mistress to ride, unattended, in 
 the face of such a storm, too ! Why didn't you go with 
 her, sir 
 
 '"Deed, marse " 
 
 " Don't "deed marse ' 7ne, you atrocious villain ! Sad- 
 dle a horse quickly, inquire which road your mistress took. 
 
cap's visit to the hidden H0IT8B. 
 
 329 
 
 and follow and aitt^nd lier home safely — after wliich, I 
 intend to break every bone in your skin, sirrah ! So " 
 
 Again he was interrupted by a dazzling flash of light- 
 ning, accompanied by a deafening roll of thunder, and fol- 
 lowed by a flood of rain. 
 
 Wool stood appalled at the prospect of turning out in 
 such a storm, upon such a fruitless errand. 
 
 " Oh, you may stare, and roll up your eyes ! but I 
 mean it, you varlet ! So be off with you ! — go ! I don't 
 care if you should be drowned in the rain, or blown o5 the 
 horse, or struck by lightning. I hope you may be, you 
 knave, and I shall be rid of one villain ! Off, you varlet, 
 
 or " Old Hurricane lifted a bronze statuette to hurl at 
 
 "Wool's delinquent head, but that functionary dodged and 
 ran out in time to escape a blow that might have put a 
 period to his mortal career. 
 
 But let no one suppose that honest Wool took the road 
 that night. He simply ran down stairs and hid himself 
 comfortably in the lowest regions of the house, there to 
 tarry until the storms, social and atmospheric, should be 
 over. 
 
 Meanwhile the night deepened — the storm raged with- 
 out, and Old Hurricane raged within. , 
 
 The lightning flashed, blaze upon blaze, with blinding 
 glare. The thunder broke, crash upon crash, with deafen- 
 ing roar. The wind gathering all its force cannonaded the 
 old walls as though it would batter down the house. The 
 ^ain fell in floods. In the midst of all, the Demon's Run, 
 swollen to a torrent, was heard like the voice of a roaring 
 lion, seeking whom he might devour." 
 
 Old Hurricane strode up and down the floor, groaning, 
 swearing, threatening, and at every fresh blast of the storm 
 without, breaking forth into fury. 
 
 Mrs. Condiment sat crouched in a corner, praying fer- 
 vently every time the lightning blazed into the room, long- 
 ing to go and join the men and maids in the next apart- 
 
830 
 
 cap's visit to the hidden house. 
 
 ment^ yet fearing to stir from her seat lest she should 
 attract Old Hiirricane''s attention, and draw down upon 
 herself the more terrible thunder and ligiitning of his 
 wrath. But to escape Old Hurricane^s violence was not in 
 the power of ni'U'tal man cr woman. Soon her vei'y still- 
 ness exasperated him, and he broke forth upon her with : 
 
 '^^Mrs. Condiment, mum, I don^t know how you can 
 leai' to sit there so quietly and listen to this storm, know- 
 ing that the poor child is exposed to it 
 
 " Major Wartield, would it do any good for me to jump 
 up a.id trot up and down the floor, and go on as you do, 
 even supposing I had the strength V inquired the meek 
 old lady, thoroughly i:)rovoked at his injustice. 
 
 ^Td like to see you show a little more feeling. You 
 are a perfect barbarian. Oh, Cap, my darling, where are 
 you now ? Heavens ! what a blast was that ! enough to 
 shake the house about our ears ! I wish it luould — blamed 
 if I don^t." 
 
 Oh, Major, Major, don't say such awful things nor 
 make such awful wishes," said the appalled old lady; "you 
 don't know luliat you might bring down upon us." 
 
 ^^No, nov care ; if the old house should tumble in, it 
 would bury underwits ruins a precious lot of good-for-noth- 
 ing people, unfit to live. Heavens ! what a flash of light- 
 ning ! Oh, Cap, Cap, my darling, where are you in this 
 storm ? Mrs. Condiment, mum, if any harm comes to 
 Capitola this night, I'll have you indicted for manslaugh- 
 ter." 
 
 Major Warfield, if it is all on Miss Black's account 
 that you are raving and raging so, I think it is quite vain 
 of you ; for any young woman caught out in a storm would 
 know enough to get into shelter ; especially would Miss 
 Black, who is a young lady of great courage and presence 
 of mind, as we know. She has surely gone into some 
 house to remain until the storm is over," said Mrs. Condi- 
 ment, soothingly. 
 
CAP S VISIT TO T]IE HIDDEN HOUSE. 331 
 
 This speech, so well intended, exasperated Old Hurri- 
 caue more than all the rest. Stopping and striking his 
 cane upon the floor, he roared forth : 
 
 ^' Hang it, mum ! hold your foolish old tongue ! You 
 know nothing about it. Capitola is exposed to more seri- 
 ous dangers than the elements. Perils of all sorts surround 
 her. She should never, rain or shine, go out alone. Oh, 
 the little yillain ! the little wretch! the little demon ! if 
 EVER I get her safe in this house again, won^t I lock her 
 up and keep her on bread and water until she learns to 
 behave herself 
 
 Here again a blinding flash of lightning, a deafening 
 peal of thunder, a terrific blast of wind and flood of rain 
 suddenly arrested his speech. 
 
 Oh, my Cap ! my dear Cap ! I needn^t threaten you ! 
 I shall never have the chance to be cruel to you again — 
 never. You will perish in this terrible storm, and then — 
 and then my tough old heart will break, it will — it will. 
 Cap. But demmy, before it does, I will break the necks 
 of every man and woman in this house, old and young. 
 Hear it. Heaven and earth, for I'll do it 
 
 All things must have an end. So, as the hours passed 
 on, the storm having spent all its fury, gradually grumbled 
 irself into silence. 
 
 Old Hurricane also raged into a state of exhaustion so 
 complete, that when the midnight hour struck he could 
 only drop into a chair and murmur : 
 
 Twelve o^clock, and no news of her yet V 
 
 And then unwillingly he went to bed, attended by Mrs. 
 Condiment and Pitapat instead of Wool, who was supposed 
 to be out in search of Capitola, but who was, in fact, fast 
 asleep on the floor of a dry cellar. 
 
 Meanwhile, where did this midnight hour find Capitola ? 
 
332 
 
 THE HIDDEN HOLLOW. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXrV. 
 
 THE HIDDEN HOLLOW. 
 
 •* On every side the aspect was the same, 
 All ruined, desolate, forlorn and savage, 
 No hand or foot within the precinct came 
 To rectify or ravage 1 
 
 Here Echo never mocked the human tongue ; 
 
 Some weighty crime that Heaven could not pardon, 
 
 A secret curse on that old Building hung 
 
 And its deserted Garden I" — Hood's Haunted House. 
 
 Cap was a bit of a Don Quixote. The stirring incidents 
 of the last few months had spoiled her ; the monotony of 
 the last few weeks had bored her ; and now she had just 
 ridden out in quest of adventures. 
 
 The Old Hidden House, with its mysterious traditions, 
 its gloomy surroundings and its haunted reputation, had 
 always possessed a powerful attraction for one of Cap's 
 adventurous snirit. To seek and gaze upon the sombre 
 house, of which, and of whose inmates, such terrible stories 
 had been told ov hinted, had always been a secret desire 
 and purpose of Capitola. 
 
 And now the presence there of a beautiful girl near her 
 own age was the one last item that tipped the balance, 
 making the temptation to ride thither outweigh every other 
 consideration of duty, prudence and safety. And having 
 once started on the adventure. Cap felt the attraction 
 drawing her towards the frightful hollow of the Hidden 
 House growing stronger with every step taken thither- 
 ward. 
 
 She reached the banks of the "Demon's Eun," and 
 took tho left hand road down the stream until she reached 
 
THE HIDDEN HOLLOW. 
 
 333 
 
 the left point of the Horse-Shoe Mountain,, and then going 
 np around the point, she kept close under the back of the 
 range until she had got immediately in the rear of the 
 round bend of the Horse Shoe/^ behind Hurricane Hall. 
 
 ^^Well/^ said Cap^ as she drew rein here, and looked 
 up at the lofty ascent of gray rocks that concealed Hurri- 
 cane Hall, to have had to come such a circuit around the 
 outside of the 'Horse Shoe/ to find myself just at the back 
 of our old house, and no farther from home than this ! 
 There^s as many doubles and twists iu these mountains as 
 there are in a lawyer's discourse ! There ! G-yp, you 
 needn^'t turn back again and pull at the bridle, to tell me 
 that there is a storm coming up and that you want to go 
 home! I have no more respect for your opinion than I 
 have for Mrs. Condiment^s. Besides, you carry a damsel- 
 errant in quest of adventures, Gyp ! and so you must on, 
 Gyp ! you must on V' said Oapitola, forcibly pulling her 
 horse^s head around, and then taking a survey of the down- 
 ward path. 
 
 It was a scene fascinating from its very excess of gloom 
 and terror ! 
 
 It was a valley so deep and dark as to merit the name of 
 the hollow, or hole, but for its great extent and its thick 
 growth of forest, through which spectral -looking rocks 
 gleamed, and moaning waters could be heard but not 
 seen. 
 
 "Now, somewhere in that thick forest, in the bottom 
 of that vale, stands the house — well called the Hidden 
 House, since not a chimney of it can be seen even from 
 this commanding height ! But I suppose this path that 
 leads down into the valley may conduct me to the build- 
 ing ! Come along. Gyp ! You needn't turn up your head 
 and pull at the bit ! YouVe got to go ! I am bound this 
 night to see the outside of the Hidden House, and the win- 
 dow of the haunted chamber at the very least, said Cap, 
 
334 
 
 THE HIDDEN HOLLOW. 
 
 tlirowing her eyes up defiantly towards the darkening sky, 
 and putting whip to her unwilling horse. 
 
 As the path wound down into the valley the woods were 
 found deeper, thicker and darker. It occupied all Cap's 
 faculties to push her way through the overhanging and 
 interlacing branches of the trees. 
 
 Good gracions," she said, as she used her left arm 
 rather vigorously to push aside the obstructions to her path, 
 one would think this were the enchanted forest contain- 
 ing the castle of the sleeping beauty, and I was the knight 
 destined to deliver her ! Tm sure it wouldn't have been 
 more difficult.'' 
 
 Still deeper fell the path, thicker grew the forest and 
 darker the way. 
 
 Gyp, I'm under the impression that we shall have to 
 turn back yet," said Cap dolefully, stopping in the midst 
 of a thicket so dense that it completely blockaded her 
 farther progress in the same direction. Just as she came 
 to this very disagreeable conclusion she spied an opening on 
 her left, from which a bridle path struck out. With an 
 exclamation of joy, she immediately turned her horse's head 
 and struck into it. This path was very rocky, but in some 
 degree clearer than the other, and she went on quickly, sing- 
 ing to herself, until gradually her voice began to be lost in 
 the sound of many rnshing waters. 
 
 It must be the Devil's Punch Bowl I am approaching," 
 she said to herself, as she went on. 
 
 She was right. The roaring of the waters grew deafen- 
 ing, and the path became so rugged with jagged and irregu- 
 larly piled rocks, that Cap could scarcely keep her horse 
 upon his feet in climbing over them. And suddenly, when 
 she least looked for it, the great natural curiosity — the 
 Devil's Punch Bowl — burst upon her view. 
 
 It was an awful abyss, scooped out as it were from the 
 very bowels of the earth, with its steep sides rent open in 
 
THE HIDDEN HOLLOW. 
 
 335 
 
 dreadful chasms, and far down in its fearful depths a boil- 
 ing whirlpool of black waters. 
 
 Urging her reluctant steed through a thicket of stunted 
 thorns and over a choas of shattered rocks, Capitola 
 approached as near as she safely could to the brink of this 
 awful pit. So absorbed was she in gazing upon this terri- 
 ble phenomenon of natural scenery that she had not noticed 
 in the thicket on her right a low hut that, with its brown- 
 green moldering colors, fell so naturally in with the hue of 
 the surrounding scenery as easily to escape observation. 
 She did not even observe that the sky was entirely overcast, 
 and the thunder was muttering in the distance. She was 
 aroused from her profound reverie by a voice near her 
 asking : 
 
 ^^Who are you that dares to come without a guide to 
 the Devil's Puncli Bowl ?" 
 
 Capitola looked around, and came nearer screaming 
 than she ever had been in her life, upon seeing the appari- 
 tion that stood before her. Was it man, woman, beast or 
 demon ? She could not tell. It was a very tall, spare 
 form, with a black cloth petticoat tied around the waist, a 
 blue coat buttoned over the breast, and a black felt hat 
 tied down with a red handkerchief, shading the darkest 
 old face she had ever seen in her life. 
 
 Who are you, I say, who comes to the Devirs Punch 
 Bowl without leave or license ?" repeated the frightful 
 creature, shifting her cane from one hand to the other. 
 
 I? I am Capitola Black, from Hurricane Hall ; but 
 who, in the name of all the fates and furies are you?'' 
 inquired Capitola ; who, in getting over the shock, had 
 recovered her courage. 
 
 I am Harriet, the Seeress of Hidden Hollow !" replied 
 the appa,rition, in a melo-dramatic manner that would not 
 have discredited the Queen of Tragedy herself, " Yon 
 have heard of me 
 
336 
 
 THE HIDDEN HOLLOW. 
 
 ''Yes, but I always heard you called Old Uni the 
 Witch/' said Cap. 
 
 " The world is profane — give me your hand/' said the 
 beldame, reaching out her own to take that of Capitola. 
 Stop ! is your hand clean ? It looks very black." 
 
 '' Cleaner than yours will be when it is stained ivitJi Hood, 
 young maiden." 
 
 ''Tut ! — if you insist on telling my fortune, tell me a 
 pleasant one, and I will pay you double," laughed Capitola. 
 
 " The fates are not to be mocked. Your destiny will 
 be that which the stars decree. To prove to you that I 
 know this, I tell you that you are not what you have been." 
 
 " You've hit it this time, old lady, for I was a baby once, 
 and now I am a young girl," said Cap, laughing. 
 
 "You will not continue to be that which you are now !" 
 pursued the hag, still attentively reading the lines of her 
 subject's hand. 
 
 "Eight again ! for if I live long enough, I shall be an 
 old woman." 
 
 " You bear a name that you will not bear long." 
 
 "I think that quite a safe prophecy, as I haven't the 
 most distant idea of being an old maid." 
 
 " This little hand of yours — this dainty woman's hand 
 — will be — red with blood." 
 
 " Now, do you know, I don't doubt fhat either ? I 
 believe it altogether probable that I shall have to cook my 
 husband's dinner and kill the chickens for his soup." 
 
 " Girl, beware ! you deride the holy stars ! — and already 
 they are adverse to you !" said the hag, with a threatening 
 glare. 
 
 " Ha-ha-ha ! I love the beautiful stars, but do woi fear 
 them. I fear only Him who made the stars !" 
 
 " Poor butterfly, listen and beware ! — you are destined 
 to imbrue that little hand in the life current of one who 
 loves vou the most of all on earth. You are destined to rise 
 
THE HIDDEN HOLLOW. 
 
 337 
 
 by the destruction of one wlio would shed his heart's best 
 blood for you/' said the beldame^ in an awful voice. 
 
 Capitola's eyes flashed. She advanced her horse a step 
 or two nearer the witch^ and raised her riding whip, say- 
 ing : 
 
 " I protest if you were only a man, I should lay this lash 
 over your wicked shoulders until my arms ached ! How 
 dare you ? Faith, I don't wonder that in the honest old 
 times such pests as you were cooled in the ducking pond ! 
 Good gracious, that must have made a hissing and splutter- 
 ing in the water, though !" 
 
 ^' Blasphemer ! pay and be gone !" 
 Pay you ! I tell you I would if you were only a man ! 
 but it would be sinful to pay a wretched old witch in the 
 only way you deserve to be paid !" said Cap, flourishing her 
 riding-whip before a creature tall enough and strong enough 
 to have doubled up her slight form together and hurled it 
 into the abyss. 
 
 Gold ! gold !" said the hag, curtly, holding out black 
 and talon-like fingers, which she worked convulsively. 
 
 Gold ! gold indeed ! for such a wicked fortune ! not 
 a penny !" said Cap. 
 
 Ho ! you're stingy ; you do not like to part with the 
 yellow demon that has bought the souls of all your house !" 
 
 Don't I ? — you shall see ! There ! if you want gold, 
 go fish for it from the depth of the whirlpool," said Cap, 
 taking her purse and casting it over the precipice. 
 This exasperated the crone to frenzy. 
 ''Away! Begone!" she cried, shaking her long arm 
 at the girl. ''Away ! Begone ! the fate pursues you ! the 
 badge of blood is stamped upon your palm !" 
 
 '^'Fee—faio—fum /' " said Cap. 
 
 " Scorner ! beware I the curse of the crimson hand is 
 upon you I" 
 
 — " ' 1 smell the Hood of an Englishman ' contin- 
 ued Cap. 
 
338 
 
 THE HIDDEN HOLLOW. 
 
 Derider of the fates^ you are foredoomed to crime V 
 — * Be he alive or he he dead, I'll have .his brains to 
 hutter my bread!'" concluded Cap. 
 
 " Be Silent \" shrieked the beldame. 
 I won\^^ said Cap, because you see, if we are in 
 for the horrible, I can beat you hollow at that ! 
 
 * Avaunt I and quit my sight! t 
 Let the earth hide thee ! 
 
 Thy bones are marrowless ! Thy blood is cold I 
 Thou hast no speculation in those eyes 
 "Which thou dost glare with !' " 
 
 Begone ! you^re doomed ! doomed ! doomed \" shrieked 
 the witch, retreating into her hut. 
 
 Cap laughed and stroked the neck of her horse, saying : 
 Gyp, my son, that was old Nick^s wife who was with 
 us just this instant ; and now, indeed, Gyp, if we are to see 
 the Hidden House this afternoon, we must get on.-'^ 
 
 And so saying, she followed the path that wound half 
 around the Punch Bowl, and then along the side of a little 
 mountain torrent called the spout, — which, rising in an 
 opposite mountain, leaped from rock to rock, with many a 
 sinuous turn, as it wound through the thicket that imme- 
 diately surrounded the Hidden House — until it finally 
 jetted through a subterranean channel into the Devil^s 
 Punch Bowl. 
 
 Oapitola was now, unconsciously, upon the very spot 
 where, seventeen years before, the old nurse had been 
 forcibly stopped and compelled to attend the unknown 
 lady. 
 
 As Oapitola pursued the path that wound lower and 
 lower into the dark valley, the gloom of the thicket deep- 
 ened. Her thoughts ran on all the horrible traditions 
 connected with the Hidden House and Hollow — the murder 
 and robbery of the poor peddler j the mysterious assassina- 
 
IHE HIDDEN' HOrSE. 
 
 tioii of Eugene Le Xoir ; the sndaeii disappearance of liis 
 Toutliful widow ; the strung'} sights and sounds reported to 
 he hear : - si-.^u about the mansion ; the spectral light at 
 the . ..le window: the white form seen flitung 
 
 :h.;.;/. :h: :l.:.nvj-: ; dio- pale lady that in the dead of 
 nig!.: drc-.v me cmmins of a guest that once had slept 
 there ; and above all, Capitola thought of the beautiful, 
 strange ghd, who was an inmate of that sinful and accursed 
 house. And while tliese thoughts absorbed her mind, 
 suddenly in a turning of the path, she came full upon the 
 gloomy building. 
 
 CHAPTER. XXXV. 
 
 THE HTDDEX HOUSE. 
 
 ** The very stains and fractures on the wall, 
 Assuming features solemn and terrific, 
 Hinted some t : ? of that old hall 
 Locked up i:\ _ yphic I 
 Prophetic hints that filled the soul with dread ; 
 But to one gloomy window pointing mostly, 
 Ttie while some secret inspiration said, 
 That chamber is the ghostly!" — Hood. 
 
 The Hidden House was a large, irregular edifice, of dark 
 red sandstone, with its walls covered closely with the cling- 
 ing ivy, that had been clipped away only from a few of the 
 doors and windows,, and its roof over-shadowed by the top 
 branches of gigantic oaks and elms that clustered around 
 and nearly concealed the building. 
 
 It might have been a long-forsaken house for any sign 
 of human habitation that was to be seen about it. All was 
 silent, solitary and gloomy. 
 
340 
 
 THE HIDDEN HOUSE. 
 
 As Oapitola drew up her horse to gaze upon its sombre 
 walls, she wondered which was the window at which the 
 spectral light and ghostly face had been seen. She soon 
 believed that she had found it. 
 
 At the highest point of the building, immediately under 
 the sharp angle of the roof, in the gable end nearest to view, 
 was a solitary window. The ivy that clung tightly to the 
 stone, covering every portion of the wall at this end, was 
 clipped away from that high-placed, dark and lonely win- 
 dow by which Oapitola^s eyes were strangely fascinated. 
 
 While thus she gazed in wonder, interest and curiosity, 
 though without the least degree of superstitous dread, a 
 vision flashed upon her sight, that sent the blood from her 
 ruddy cheek to her brave heart and shook the foundations of 
 her unbelief ! 
 
 For while she gazed, suddenly that dark window was 
 illumined by a strange, unearthly light that streamed forth 
 into the gloomy evening air, and touched with blue flame 
 the quivering leaves of every tree in its brilliant line ! In 
 the midst of this lighted window appeared a white female 
 face wild with woe ! And then the face suddenly vanished 
 and the light was swallowed up in darkness ! 
 
 Oapitola remained transfixed ! 
 Great Heaven \" she thought, can these things 
 really be ! Have the ghostly traditions of this world, truth 
 in them at last ? When I heard this story of the haunted 
 window I thought some one had surely imagined or invented 
 it ! Now I have seen for myself ! but if I were to tell 
 what I have seen not one in a hundred would believe me V 
 
 While these startling thoughts disturbed her usual well 
 balanced mind, a vivid flash of lightning, accompanied by 
 a tremendous peal of thunder and a heavy fall of rain, 
 roused her into renewed activity. 
 
 G-yp, my boy, the storm is upon us sure enough ! We 
 shall catch it all around ! get well drowned, beaten and 
 buffeted here and well abused when we get home. Mean- 
 
THE HIDDEN HOUSE. 
 
 341 
 
 time, Gyp, which is the worst, the full fury of the tempest 
 or the mysterious terrors of the haunted house I" 
 
 Another blinding flash of lightning, a stunning crash 
 of thunder, a flood of rain and tornado of wind decided 
 her. 
 
 We'll take the haunted house, Gyp, my friend. That 
 spectral lady of the lighted window looked rather in sorrow 
 than in anger, and who knows but the ghosts may be hos- 
 pitable ? So gee up, Dobbin,"^ said Capitola., and urging 
 her horse with one hand and holding on her cap with the 
 other, she went on against wind and rain until she reached 
 the front of the old house. 
 
 Not a creature was to be seen ; every door and window 
 was closely shut. Dismounting Capitola led her horse 
 under the shelter of a thickly leaved old oak tree, secured 
 him and then holding up her saturated skirt with one hand 
 and holding on her cap with the other, she went up some 
 mouldering stone steps to an old stone portico, and seizing 
 the heavy iron knocker of a great black oak double door, 
 she knocked loudly enough to awaken all the mountain 
 echoes. 
 
 She waited a few minutes for an answer, but receiving 
 none, she knocked again more loudly than before. Still 
 there was no reply. And growing impatient, she seized the 
 knocker with both hands and exerting all her strength, 
 made the welkin ring again. 
 
 This brought a response. The door was unlocked and 
 angrily jerked open, by a short, squarely formed, beetle- 
 browed, stern looking woman, clothed in a black stuff gown 
 and having a stiff muslin cap upon her head. 
 
 "Who are you? What do you want here?" harshly 
 demanded this woman, whom Capitola instinctively recog- 
 nized as Dorky Knight, the morose housekeeper of the 
 Hidden House. 
 
 " Who am I ? What do I want ? Old Nick fly away 
 with you, it's plain enough to be seen who I am and what 
 
842 
 
 THE HIDt)^:N SOUSE. 
 
 I want. I am a young woman caiiglifc out in the storm, 
 and I w^ant shelter said Cap indignantly. And her words 
 were endorsed by a terrific burst of the tempest in light- 
 ning, thunder, wind and rain. 
 
 Come in then and when you ask favors learn to keep 
 a civil tongue in your head/' said the woman sternly, tak- 
 ing the guest by the hand and pulling her in, and shutting 
 and locking the door. 
 
 " Favors ! plague on you for a bearess ! I ask no favor ! 
 every storm-beaten traveler has a right to shelter under the 
 first roof that offers, and none but a curmudgeon would 
 tiiink of calling it a favor ! And as for keeping a civil 
 tongue in my head, I'll do it when you set me the exam- 
 ple V said Cap. 
 
 Who are you ?" again demanded the woman. 
 
 Oh, I see you are no Arabian in your notions of hos- 
 pitality ! — Those pagans entertain a guest without asking 
 him a single question ; and though he were their bitterest 
 foe, they consider him, while he rests beneath their tent, 
 sacred from intrusion/' 
 
 That's because they are pagans," said Dorky. ''But 
 as I am a Christian, I'd thank you to let me know who it 
 is that I have received under tliis roof." 
 
 My name," said our heroine impatiently "is Capitola 
 Black ! I live with my uncle. Major Warfield, at Hurri- 
 cane Hall. And now, I should thank your ladyship to 
 send some one to put away my horse, while you yourself 
 accommodate me with dry clothes." 
 
 While our saucy little heroine spoke the whole aspect 
 of tlie dark-browed woman changed. 
 
 ''^Capitola — Capitola," she muttered, gazing earnestly 
 upon the face of the unwelcome guest. 
 
 ''Yes! Capitola! that is my name; you never heard 
 anything against it, did you ?" 
 
 For all answer the women seized her hand, and while ^ 
 the lightning flashed, and the thunder rolled, and the wind 
 
THE HIDDEN HOUSE. 
 
 343 
 
 and rain beat down, slie drew her the whole length of the 
 hall before a back window that overlooked the neglected 
 garden^ and regardless of the electric fluid that incessantly 
 blazed upon them, she held her there and scrutinized her 
 features. 
 
 Well ! I like this ! upon my word, I do said Cap, 
 composedly. 
 
 "Without replying the strange woman seized her right 
 hand, forcibly opened it, gazed upon the palm, and then 
 flinging it back with a shudder, exclaimed : 
 
 Capitola, what brought you under this roof ! Away ! 
 Begone ! Mount 3^our horse and fly while there is yet 
 time.'' 
 
 What ! expose myself again to the storm ? I won't, 
 and that's flat," said Cap. 
 
 '^Girl ! girl ! there are worse dangers in the world than 
 any to be feared from thunder, lightning, rain, or wind." 
 
 Very well, then, when I meet them, it will be time 
 enough to deal with them ! Meanwhile the stormy night 
 and my soaked clothing are very palpable evils, and as I 
 sec no good end to be gained by my longer enduring them, 
 I will just beg you to stop sooth-saying — (as I have had 
 enough of that from another old witch) — and be so good as 
 to permit me to change my clothes." 
 
 It is madness ! You shall not stay here," cried the 
 woman, in a harsh voice. 
 
 And I tell you I will ! You are not the head of the 
 family, and I do not intend to be turned out by you." 
 
 While she spoke, a servant crossed the hall, and the 
 woman, whisking Capitola around until her back was turned, 
 and her face concealed, went to speak to the new comer. 
 
 When will your master be here ?" Capitola heard hei 
 inquire. 
 
 **Not to-night; he saw the storm rising and did not 
 wish to expose himself ; he sent me on to say that he would 
 
344 
 
 THE HIDDEN HOUSE. 
 
 not be here until morning ; I was caught as you see ! I am 
 
 dripping wet/' replied the man. 
 
 ^^Go change your clothes at once, then, Davy/^ 
 ''Who is that stranger asked the man, pointing to 
 
 Capitola. 
 
 Some young woman of the neighborhood, who has been 
 caught out in the tempest. But you had better go and 
 change your clothes than to stand here gossipping,*^ said the 
 woman liarshly. 
 
 ''I say,^^ said the man, the young woman is a God-send 
 to Miss Clara ; nobody has been to see her yet ; nobody ever 
 visits this house unless they are driven to it ; I don't wonder 
 the colonel and our young master pass as much as ten mouths 
 in the year away from home, spending all the summer at the 
 watering places, and all the winter in ISTew York or Wash- 
 ington ?" 
 
 ''Hold your tougue ! what right have you to complain ? 
 You always attend them in their travels V 
 
 " True ; but you see for this last season, they have both 
 been staying Jiere, old master to watch the heiress, young 
 master to court her, and as I have no interest in that game, 
 I find the time hang heavy on my hands,'' complained the 
 man. 
 
 " It will hang heavier if you take a long fit of illness by 
 standing in wet clothes,'' muttered the woman. 
 
 "Why, so 'twill, missus! so here goes," assented the 
 man, hurrying across the hall and passing out through the 
 door opposite that by which he entered. 
 
 Dorcas returned to her guest. 
 
 Eyeing her closely for a while, she at length inquired : 
 " Capitola, how long have you lived at Hurricane 
 Hall ?" 
 
 "So long," replied Cap, " that you must have heard of 
 me. I, at least, have often heard of Mother Dorkey 
 Knight !" 
 
 " And heard no good of her.'* 
 
THE HIDDEX HOUSE. 
 
 345 
 
 Well, to be candid Tvitb YOU, I never did," said 
 
 Cap. 
 
 And much harm of lier continued the woman, 
 keeping her stern black eyes fixed upon those of her 
 guest. 
 
 ^' Well, yes — since you ask me, I have heard pretty con- 
 siderable harm V answered Cap, nothing daunted. 
 
 Where did you live before you came to Hurricane 
 Hall r asked Dorcas. 
 
 Where I learned to fear God, to speak the truth, and 
 to shame the devil I"-* replied Cap. 
 
 And to force yourself intopeople^s liouses against 
 
 their will I'*' 
 
 There you are again I I tell you that when I learn 
 from the head of this hotisehold that I am unwelcome, then 
 I will retreat, and not until then I And now I demand to 
 be prusenrcd to the master.'' 
 -'^To Colonel Le Xoir 
 Yes.'"' 
 
 ^^I cannot curse you with the ^the curse of a granted 
 prayer I' Colonel Le Xoir is awav ** 
 
 Why do you talk so strangely inquired Capitola. 
 
 It is my whim. Perhaps my head is light.'"'' 
 
 T should think it was, excessively so I Well — as the 
 master of the hotise is away, be good enough to present me 
 to the mistress 
 
 '■^What rni-ti' CSS ? there is no mistress here I"' replied 
 Dorcas, looking ai'jur.d iii strange trepidation. 
 
 ''•'I mean the y^'ung L;:. ly, Colonel Le Xoir's ward. li\ 
 lien of ar- V cti^er lady, she. I suppose, may be considered the 
 mistress o: the house I"'" 
 
 Humph I well, yotmg girl, as you are fully resolved to 
 stand your ground, I suppose there is nothing to do but to 
 put up with you V said Dorcas. 
 
 And put tip my horse, '"^ added Cap. 
 
346 
 
 THE INMATE OF THE HIDDEN HOUSE. 
 
 He shall be taken care of ! But mind, you must de- 
 |)art early in the morning/^ said Dorcas, sternly. 
 
 " Once more, and for the last. Mother Cerberus, I assure 
 you I do Dot ackuowledge your authority to dismiss me,^' 
 retorted Oapitola, ^^so show me to the presence of your 
 mistress \" 
 
 ^'Perverse, like all the rest! Follow me said the 
 housekeeper, leading the way from the hall towards a back 
 parlor. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXVL 
 
 THE INMATE OF THE HIDDEN" HOUSE. 
 
 ** There is a light around her brow, 
 A holiness in those dark eyes, 
 That show, though wandering earthward now, 
 Her spirit's home is in the skies." — ^Moore. 
 
 Pushing open the door, Dorcas Knight exclaimed : 
 Here is a youug lady. Miss Black, from Hurricane 
 Hall, come to see you. Miss Day." 
 
 And having made this announcement, the woman 
 retired and shut the door behind her. 
 
 And Oapitola found herself in a large, dark, gloomy, 
 wainscotted room, whose tall, narrow windows afforded but 
 little light, and whose immense fire-place and blackened 
 furniture seemed to helong to a past century. 
 
 The only occupant of this sombre apartment was a 
 young girl, seated in pensive thought beside the central 
 table. She was clothed in deep mourning, which only 
 served to throw into fairer relief the beauty of her pearly 
 skin, golden hair and violet eyes. 
 
 The vision of her mourning robes and melancholy 
 
THE INMATE OF THE HIDDEX HOUSE. 
 
 beauty so deeply impressed Capitola, that almost for the 
 first time in her life, she hesitated, from a feeling of diffi- 
 dence, and said gently : 
 
 '^Indeed, I fear that this is an unwarranted intrusion 
 on my part, Miss Day/^ 
 
 You are very welcome,'^ replied the SAveetest voice 
 Capitola had ever heard, as the young girl arose and 
 advanced to meet her. But you have been exposed to 
 the storm. Please come into my room aud change yonr 
 clothes, continued the young hostess as she took Oap^s 
 hand and led her into an adjoining room. 
 
 The storm was still raging ; but these apartments being 
 in the central portion of the strong old house, were but 
 little exposed to the sight or sound of its fury. 
 
 There was a lamp burning upon the mantel-piece, by 
 the light of which the young girl furnished her visitor with 
 dry clothing, and assisted her to change — saying as she did 
 so : 
 
 '^I think we are about the same size, and that my 
 clothes will fit you ; but I will not offer you mourning 
 habiliments ; you shall have this lilac silk." 
 
 ''I am very sorry to see you in mourning,^' said Capi- 
 tola, earnestly. 
 
 It is for my father,"^ replied Clara, very softly. 
 
 As they spoke, the eyes of the two young girls met. 
 They were both good physiognomists and intuitive judges 
 of character. Consequently, in the full meeting of their 
 eyes, they read, understood and appreciated each other. 
 
 The pure, grave and gentle expression of Clara^s coun- 
 tenance, touched the heart of Capitola. 
 
 The bright, frank, honest face of Cap recommended 
 her to Clara. 
 
 The very opposite traits of their equally truthful char- 
 acters attracted them to each other. 
 
 Clara conducted her guest back into the wainscotted 
 parlor, where a cheerful fire had been kindled to correct 
 
348 THE INMATE OF THE HIDDEN HOUSE. 
 
 the dampness of the air. And here they sat down unmind- 
 ful of the storm that came much subdued through the 
 thickness of the walls. And, as young creatures, however 
 tried and sorrowful^ will do, they entered into a friendly 
 chat. And before an hour had passed Capitola thought 
 herself well repaid for her sufferings from the storm and 
 the rebuff, in having formed the acquaintance of Clara 
 Day. 
 
 She resolved, let Old Hurricane rage as he might, 
 henceforth she would be a frequent visitor to the Hidden 
 House. 
 
 And Clara, for her part, felt that in Capitola she had 
 found a frank, spirited, faithful neighbor who might be- 
 come an estimable friend. 
 
 While they were thus growing into each other's favor, 
 the door opened and admitted a gentleman of tall and thin 
 figure, and white and emaciated face, shaded by a luxuri- 
 ant growth of glossy black hair and beard. He could not 
 have been more than twenty-six, but prematurely broken 
 by vice, he seemed forty years of age. He advanced, bow- 
 ing, towards the young women. 
 
 As Capitola^s eyes fell upon this new-comer it reqidred 
 all her presence of mind and power of self-control to pre- 
 vent her from starting or otherwise betraying herself — for 
 in this stranger she recognized the very man who had 
 stopped her upon her night ride ! She did, however, suc- 
 ceed in banishing from her face every expression of con- 
 sciousness. And when Miss Day courteously presented him 
 to her guest, saying merely : 
 
 My cousin, Mr. Craven Le Noir, Miss Black," — Capi- 
 tola arose and curtsied as composedly as if she had never 
 set eyes upon his face before. 
 
 He, on his part, evidently remembered her, and sent 
 one stealthy, keen and scrutinizing glance into her face ; 
 but finding that imperturbable, he bowed with stately 
 
THE INMATE OF THE HIDDEN HOUSE. 349 
 
 politeness, and seemed satisfied that she had not identified 
 him as her assailant. 
 
 Craven Le Noir drew his chair to the fire, seated himself, 
 and entered into an easy conyersation with Clara and her 
 guest. Whenever he addressed Clara there was a deference 
 and tenderness in his tone and glance that seemed very dis- 
 pleasing to the fair girl, who received all these delicate 
 attentions with coldness and reserve. These things did not 
 escape the notice of Capitola, who mentally concluded that 
 Craven Le Noir was a lover of Clara Day, but a most unac- 
 ceptable one. 
 
 When supper was announced, it was evidently hailed by 
 Clara as a great relief. And after the meal was over, she 
 arose and excnsed herself to her cousin, by saying that her 
 guest. Miss Black, had been exposed to the storm, and was 
 doubtless very much fatigued and that she would show her 
 to her chamber. 
 
 Then taking a night-lamp she invited Capitola to come, 
 and conducted her to an old-fashioned upper chamber, 
 where a cheerful fire was burning on the hearth. Here the 
 young girls sat down before the fire and improved their 
 acquaintance by an hour's conversation. After which Clara 
 arose, and saying : 
 
 I sleep immediately below your room. Miss Black. If 
 you should want anything, rap on the floor, and I shall hear 
 you and get up.-*^ 
 
 She wished her guest a good night's rest, and retired 
 from the room. 
 
 Cap was disinclined to sleep; a strange, superstitious 
 feeling which she could neither understand nor throw off, 
 had fallen upon her spirits. 
 
 She took the night-lamp in her hand and got up to 
 examine her chamber. It was a large, dark, oak-pannelled 
 room, with a dark carpet on the floor, and dark green cur- 
 tains on the windows and the bedstead. Over the mantel- 
 piece hung the portrait of a most beautiful black-haired and 
 
350 
 
 THE INMATE OF THE HIDDEN" HOUSE. 
 
 black-eyed girl of about fourteen years of age, but upon 
 whose infantile brow fell the shadow of some fearful woe. 
 There was something awful in the despair on that face, so 
 young/^ that bound the gazer in an irresistible and most 
 painful spell. And Oapitola remained standing before it 
 transfixed, until the striking of the hall-clock aroused her 
 from her enchantment. Wondering who the young creature 
 could have been, what had been her history, and above all 
 what liad been the nature of that fearful woe that darkened 
 like a curse her angel brow, Capitola turned almost sorrow- 
 fully away, and began to prepare for bed. 
 
 She undressed, put on the delicate night-clothes Clara 
 had provided for her use, said her evening prayers — loohed 
 under the led — a precaution taken ever since the night upon 
 which she had discovered the burglars — and finding all 
 right, she blew out her candle and lay down. She could 
 not sleep — many persons of nervous or mercurial tempera- 
 ments cannot do so the first night in a strange bed. Cap 
 was very mercurial, and the bed and room in which she lay 
 were very strange ; for the first time since she had had a 
 home to call her own, she was unexpectedly staying all night 
 away from her friends, and without their having any knowl- 
 edge of her whereabouts ; she was conjecturing, half in fear 
 and half in fun, how old Hurricane was taking her esca- 
 pade, and what he would say to her in the morning ! She 
 was wondering to find herself in such an unforeseen posi- 
 tion as that of a night-guest in the mysterious Hidden House 
 — wondering whether this v.^ere the guest-chamber in which 
 the ghost appeared to the ofiScer, and these were the very 
 curtains that the pale lady drew at night. While her 
 thoughts were thus running over the whole range of circum- 
 stances around her singular position, sleep overtook Capi- 
 tola, and speculation was lost in brighter visions. 
 
 How long she had slept and dreamed she did not know, 
 when something gently awakened her. She opened her 
 
THE INMATE OF THE HIDDEN HOUSE. 351 
 
 eyes calmly — to meet a vision that^ brave as she was^ nearly 
 froze the blood in her warm veins ! 
 
 Her chamber was illumined with an intense blue flame 
 that lighted up every portion of the apartment with a radi- 
 ance bright as day ; and in the midst of this effulgence 
 moved a figure clothed in white — a beautiful, pale, spectral 
 woman, whose large, motionless black eyes, deeply set in 
 her death-like face, and whose long, unbound black hair, 
 fallen upon her white raiment, were the only marks of 
 color about her marble form. 
 
 Paralyzed with wonder, Capitola watched this figure as 
 it glided about the chamber. The apparition ajDproached 
 the dressing-table, seemed to take something thence, and 
 then gliding towards the bed — to Capitola^s inexpressible 
 horror — drew back the curtains and bent down and gazed 
 upon her ! Capitola had no power to scream, to move, or 
 to avert her gaze from those awful eyes that met her own, 
 nntil at length, as the spectral head bent lower, she felt the 
 pressure of a pair of icy lips upon her brow, and closed her 
 eyes ! 
 
 When she opened them again the vision had departed 
 and the room was dark and quiet. 
 
 There was no more sleep for Capitola. She heard the 
 clock strike four, and was pleased to find that it was so 
 near day. Still the time seemed very long to her who lay 
 there wondering, conjecturing and speculating on the 
 strange adventure of the night. 
 
 When the sun arose, she left her restless bed, bathed 
 her excited head, and proceeded to dress herself. When 
 she had finished her toilet, with the exQeption of putting 
 on her trinkets, she suddenly missed a ring that she prized 
 more than she did all her possessions put together — it was 
 a plain gold band, bearing on the inner side the inscrip- 
 tion — Capitola — Eugene — and which she had been enjoined 
 by her old nurse never to part from but with life. She 
 had, in her days of destitution, suffered the extremes of 
 
352 
 
 THE INMATE OF THE HIDDEN HOUSE. 
 
 cold and hunger — had been upon the very brink of death 
 from starvation or freezing, but without ever dreaming of 
 sacrificing her ring. Aud now for the first time it was 
 missing. While she was still looking anxiously for the lost 
 jewel the door opened, aud Dorcas Knight entered the 
 room, bearing on her arm Capitola's riding-dress, Avhicli 
 had been well dried and ironed. 
 
 " Miss Capitola, here is your habit ; you had better put 
 it on at once, as I have ordered breakfast an hour sooner 
 than usual, so that you may have an early start. 
 
 Upon my word, you are very anxious to get rid of 
 me ; but not more so than I am to depart V said Capitol a, 
 still pursuing her search. 
 
 Your friends, who do not know where you are, must 
 be very uneasy about you. But what are you looking 
 for r 
 
 ''A ring — a plain gold circle with my name and that of 
 another inscribed on it, and which I would not lose for the 
 world. I hung it on a pin, on this pin-cushion, last night 
 before I went to bed— I would swear I did ! and now it is 
 missing," answered Cap, still pursuing her search. 
 
 ''If you lost it in this room, it will certainly be found," 
 said Dorcas Knight, putting down the habit and helping 
 in the search. 
 
 " I am not so sure of that. There was some one in my 
 room last night." 
 
 " Some one in your room !" exclaimed Dorcas in dis- 
 may. 
 
 '' Yes ; a dark-haired woman, all dressed in white." 
 
 Dorcas Knight gave two or three angry grunts, and 
 then harshly exclaimed : 
 
 ''Nonsense! Woman, indeed! There is no such 
 woman about the house ! There are no females here except 
 Miss Day, myself, and you — not even a waiting-maid or 
 cook." 
 
 "Well," said Cap, "if it was not a woman, it was a 
 
THE INMATE OF THE HIDDEN HOUSE. 
 
 353 
 
 gliost_, for I was wide awake and I sa^ it witli niy own 
 eyes." 
 
 " Fudge ; youVe heard that foolisli story of the haunted 
 room, and you have dreamed the whole thing. •'^ 
 
 I tell you I didn't. I saw it. Don't I know 
 I say you dreamed it ! There is no such living 
 woman here ; and as for a ghost^ that is all folly ? And I 
 mtist heg, Miss Black, that you will not distress Miss Day 
 by telling her this strange dream of yours. She has never 
 heard the ridiculous story of the haunted room, and as she 
 lives here in solitude, I would not like her to hear of it." 
 
 ^^Oh, I will say nothing to disquiet Miss Day. But it 
 was no dream. It was 7'eal, if there is any reality in this 
 world.'' 
 
 There was no more said. They continued to look for 
 the ring, but in vain. Dorcas Knight, however, assured 
 her guest that it should be found and returned, and that — 
 breakfast waited. Whereupon Capitola went down to the 
 parlor, where she found Clara awaiting her presence to give 
 her a kindly greeting. 
 
 Mr. Le I^oir never gets up until very late, and so' we 
 do not wait for him," said Dorcas Knight, as she took her 
 seat at the head of the table, and signed to the young girls 
 to gather around it. 
 
 After breakfast, Capitola, promising to come again 
 soon, and inviting Clara to return her visit, took leave of 
 her entertainers and set out for home. 
 
 " Thank Heaven I have got her off in time and safety !" 
 muttered Dorcas Knight, in triumph. 
 
354 
 
 CAP^S KETURN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIL 
 
 cap's KETUElf. 
 
 *' Must I give way and room for your rash choler 
 Shall I be frighted when a madman stares ? 
 Go show your slaves how choleric you are ! 
 And make your bondsmen tremble ! I'll not blench." 
 
 — Shakespeaee. 
 
 It liaj)peued that about sunrise that morning, Wool 
 awoke in tlio cellar, and remembered that upon the night 
 previous his master had commanded him to sally forth in 
 the storm and seek his young mistress, and liad forbidden 
 him, on pain of broken Ijones, to return without bringing 
 her safe. Therefore, what did the honest soul do but to 
 steal out to the stables, saddle and mount a horse, and ride 
 back to the house just as Mrs. Condiment had come out 
 into the poultry-yard to get eggs for breakfast. 
 
 Missus Compliment, ma^im, Ise been oat all night in 
 search of Miss Caterpillar, without finding of her. Is siie 
 come back, nia'am ?" 
 
 '^Lor! no, indeed. Wool. Fm very anxious, and the 
 major is taking on dreadful. But I hope she is snfe in 
 some house. But, poor Wool, you must have had a dread- 
 ful time out all niglit in the storm, looking for her.'' 
 
 Awful, Missus Compliment, ma'am, awful \" said 
 Wool. 
 
 Indeed, I know you had, my poor creature. Come 
 in and get some warm breakfast/' said the kind old lady. 
 
 daren't. Missus Compliment. Old marse forbid me 
 to show my face to him until I fetch Miss Caterpillar home 
 safe," said Wool, turning his horse's head as if to go. In 
 doing so, lie saw Capitola galloping towards the house, and 
 
cap's retuen. 
 
 with an exclamation of jo}^^ pointed lier out to the old lady, 
 and rodo on to meet her. 
 
 Oil, ^Jiss Caterpillar, Ise so glad rVe fonnd yon. Ise 
 done been out looking for yon all night long V exclaimed 
 "Wool, as he met her. 
 
 Capitola pnlled np her horse, and surve^'ed the speaker 
 with a comical expression, sa3nng : 
 
 " ^Bcen out all night looking for me !' Well, I must 
 say, you seem in a fine state of preservation for a man who 
 has been exposed to the storm all night. Yon have not a 
 wet thread on yon V 
 
 '^Lor, Miss, it rained till one o'clock, and then the wind 
 riz and bio wed till six, and blowed me dry !" said Wool, as 
 he sprang off his horse, and helped his young mistress to 
 alight. 
 
 Then, instead of taking the beasts to the stable, he tied 
 them to the tree, and hurried into the honse, and np stairs- 
 to his master's room, to apprise him of the return of the 
 lost sheep, Capitola. 
 
 Old Hurricane was lying awake, tossing, groaning, and 
 grumbling with anxiety. 
 
 ' On seeing Wool enter, he deliberately raised up> and 
 seized a heavy iron candlestick, and held it ready to hurl at 
 the head of that worthy, whom he thus addressed : 
 
 Ah, you have come, you atrocious villain. You know 
 the conditions. If you have dared to show your face with- 
 out bringing your young mistress 
 
 " Please, marse, I vrur out looking for her all night !" 
 
 '•'Have you brought her V thundered Old Hurricane, 
 rising up. 
 
 Please, marse, yes sir. I done found her and brought 
 her home safe." 
 
 Send her up to me," said Old Hurricane, sinking back 
 with a sigh of infinite relief. 
 Wool flew to do his bidding. 
 
 In five minutes Capitola entered her uncIe^s chamber. 
 
356 cap's retukn. 
 
 Now Old Hurricane had. spent a night of almost intol- 
 erable anxiety upon liis favorite's account, bewailing her 
 danger and praying for her safety ; but no sooner did be see 
 her enter his chamber safe and sound, and smiling, than 
 indignation quite mastered him, and jumping out of the bed 
 in his nightgown, he made a dash straight at Capitola. 
 
 "Now, had Capitola run, there is little doubt but that, in 
 the blindness of his fury, he would have caught and beat 
 her then and there. But Cap saw him coming, drew up 
 her tiny form, folded her arms, and looked him directly in 
 the face. 
 
 This stopped him, but like a mettlesome old horse 
 suddenly pulled up in full career, he stamped, and reared, 
 and plunged with fury, and foamed, and spluttered, and 
 stuttered before he could get words out. 
 
 *'What do you mean, you vixen, by standing there and 
 popping your great gray eyes out at me ? Are you going 
 to bite, you tigress ? What do you mean by facing me at 
 all he roared, shaking his fist within an inch of Capi- 
 toWs little pug nose. 
 
 I am here because you sent for me, sir,^' was Oap^s un- 
 answerable rejoinder. 
 
 ^'^Here because T sent for you!' humph! humph! 
 humph ! and come dancing and smiling into my room as if 
 you had not kept me awake all the live long night — yes ! 
 driven me within one inch of a brain fever ! Not that I 
 cared for you, you limb of Old Nick ! not that I cared for 
 you, except to wish with all my heart and soul that some- 
 thing or other had happened to you, you vagrant ! Where 
 did you spend the night, you lunatic 
 
 At the Hidden House, where I went to make a call on 
 my new neighbor. Miss Day, and where I was caught in 
 the storm.'' 
 
 " 1 wish to heaven you had been caught in a man-trap 
 and had all your limbs broken, you — you — you — Oh !" 
 ejaculated Old Hurricane, turning short and trotting up 
 
cap's eetuen. 
 
 357 
 
 and down the room. Presently lie stopped before Capi- 
 tola, and rapping liis cane down upon the floor, demanded : 
 Who did yon see at that accnrsed place, you — y:iT— 
 you infatuated maniac ?" 
 
 Miss Day, Mr. Le Xoir, Mrs. Knight. ancT ^ r-ian-ser- 
 vaut — name unknown, coolly replied Car:. 
 
 ''And the head demon, where was he.'' 
 
 "Uncle, if by the head demon you m.wi Cic. ITick, I 
 think it quite likely, from present arcer-;^ r.:e' tlui': he 
 passed the night at Hurricane Hall.'"' 
 
 '' I mean — Colonel Le Xoir I" exclaiii:.ed jIl Z/r.rri:aze, 
 as if the name choked him. 
 
 '' Oh ! I understand that he had that da " leit hczie/^ 
 
 *'Umph ! Oh ! Ah ! that accounts for ic . :i} a'" counts 
 for it/' muttered Old Hurricane to himselt — the seeing 
 Capitola was wistfully regarding his face, and atteii iizs^" to 
 his muttered phrases, he broke out upon her with ; 
 
 Get out of this — this — this " be meant to say get 
 
 out of this house, but a sure instinct warned him that if 
 he should speak thus, Capitola, unlike the other members 
 of his household, would take him at bis v»'ord. 
 
 '^Get out of this room, you yagaboncl I^'-' he vociferated. 
 
 And Cap, with a curtsey and a kiss of her hand, danced 
 away. 
 
 Old Hurricane stamped up and down the floor, gesticu- 
 lating like a demoniac, and vociferating : 
 
 ''Sbe'll get herself burked, kidnapped, murdered, or 
 what not ! I'm sure she will ! I know it I I feel it I It's 
 no use to order her not to go ; she would be sure to dis- 
 obey ! and go ten times as often, for the very reason that 
 she was forbidden I What the demon shall I do ? — Wool 1 
 Wool ! Wool, you brimstone villain, come here V he 
 roared, going to the bell-rope and prilling it until he broke 
 it down. 
 
 Wool ran in with his hair bristling, his teeth chattering, 
 and his eyes starting. 
 
358 
 
 cap's ketukn. 
 
 Come here to me, you varlet ! Now listen : You are 
 to keep a sharp look-out after your young mistress. When- 
 ever she rides abroad, yoa are to mount a horse and ride 
 after her, and keep your eyes open, for if you only once 
 lose sight of her, yon knave, do you know what I shall do 
 to you, eh 
 
 N — n — no, marse," stammered Wool, pale with appre- 
 hension. 
 
 ^^I should cut your eyelids off to improve your vision ! 
 Look to it, sir, for I shall keep my word. And now come 
 and help me to dress, concluded Old Hurricane. 
 
 Wool, with chattering teeth, shaking knees, and tremb- 
 ling fingers, assisted bis master in his morning toilet, med- 
 itating the while whether it were not better to avoid 
 impending dangers by running away. 
 
 And, in fact, between his master and his mistress. 
 Wool had a hot time of ir. Tbe weatber, after the storm 
 had cleared the atmosphere, was delightful, and Ciip rode 
 out that very day. Poor Wool kept his eyeballs metaphori- 
 cally ^- skinned," for fear they should bo treated literally 
 so — held his eyes wide open, lest Old Hurricane should keep 
 his word, and make it impossible for him ever to shut 
 them. 
 
 When Cap stole out, mounted her horse and rode away, 
 in five minutes from the moment of starting slie heard a 
 horse's hoofs behind her, and presently saw Wool gallop to 
 her side. 
 
 At first Cap bore tbis good-hum oredly enough, only 
 saying : 
 
 Go home, Wool, I don't want you. I had much 
 rather ride alone.'' 
 
 To which the groom replied : 
 It is ole Marse's orders. Miss, as I should wait on 
 
 you." 
 
 Capitola's spirit rebelled against this ; and suddenly 
 turning upon her attendant, she indignantly exclaimed : 
 
cap's return. 
 
 359 
 
 Wool, I don't want yon, sir ! I insist npon being 
 left alone ! and I order yon to go home, sir I" 
 
 Upon this Wool bnrst into tears and roared. 
 
 Mncli snrprised, Capitola inquired of him what the 
 matter was. 
 
 For some time, Wool conld only reply by sobbing, but 
 when he was able to articulate he blubbered forth : 
 
 ^^It's nuf to make anybody go put his head underneaf 
 of a meat- ax, so it is 
 
 " What is the matter, Wool again inquired Capitola. 
 How'd you like to have your eyelids cut off ?" howled 
 Wool, indignantly. 
 
 What r inquired Capitola. 
 
 ^^Yes, I axes how'd you like to have your eyelids cut 
 off ? — Case that's what ole marse t'reatens to do long o' 
 me, if I don't follow arter you and keep you in sight ! — 
 And now you forbids of me to do it, and — and — I'll go and 
 put my head right underneaf of a meat-ax !" 
 
 Now Capitola was really kind-hearted, and well know- 
 ing the desj^otic temper of her guardian, she pitied AYool, 
 and after a little hesitation, she said : 
 
 Wool, so your old master says if you don't keep your 
 eyes on me, he'll cut your eyelids off ?" 
 
 ^' Ye — ye — yes. Miss," sobbed Wool. 
 
 ''Did he say if you don't listen to me he'd cut your ears 
 off ?" 
 
 N" — n — no. Miss." 
 "Did he swear if you didn't talk to me .he'd cut yonr 
 tongue out ?" 
 
 ''N— n— no, Miss." 
 
 '' Well, now, stop howling, and listen to mc. Since at 
 the peril of your eyelids you are obliged to keep me in sight, 
 I give you leave to ride just within view of me ; but no 
 nearer, and you are never to let me see or hear you, if you 
 can help it, for I like to be alone.-^^ 
 
360 ANOTHER MYSTEEY AT THE HIDDEN HOUSE. 
 
 ril do anything in this world for peace, Miss Cater- 
 pillar," said poor Wool. 
 
 And upon this basis the affair was finally settled. And 
 no doubt Capitola owed much of her personal safety to the 
 fact that Wool kept his eyes open ! 
 
 While these scenes were going on at Hurricane Hall, 
 momentous events were taking place .elsewhere, which re- 
 quire another chapter for their development. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVni. 
 
 ANOTHER MYSTERY AT THE HIDDEN HOUSE. 
 
 " Hark I what a shriek was that of fear intense, 
 Of horror and amazement ! 
 What fearful struggle to the door, and thence, 
 With mazy doubles, to the casement !" 
 
 An hour after the departure of Capitola, Colonel Le 
 Noir returned to the Hidden House, and learned, from his 
 man David, that upon the preceding evening a young girl, 
 of whose name he was ignorant, had sought shelter from 
 the storm and passed the night at the mansion. 
 
 Now Colonel Le Noir was extremely jealous of receiv- 
 ing strangers under his roof — never during his short stay at 
 the Hidden House, going out into company, lest he should 
 be oblicfed in return to entertain visitors. And when he 
 learned that a strange girl had spent the night beneath his 
 roof, he frowningly directed that Dorcas should be sent to 
 him. 
 
 When his morose manager made her appearance, he 
 harshly demanded the name of the young woman she had 
 dared to receive beneath his roof. 
 
ANOTHER MYSTERY AT THE HIDDEN HOXTSE. 361 
 
 Now, whether there is any truth in the theory of mag- 
 netism or not_, it is certain that Dorcas Knight, stern, 
 harsh, resolute woman that she was towards all others, 
 became as submissive as a child, in the presence of Colonel 
 Le ISToir. 
 
 At his command she gave him all the information he 
 required, not even withholding the fact of Capitol a^s 
 strange story of having seen the apparition of the pale- 
 faced lady in her chamber, together with the subsequent 
 discovery of the loss of her ring. 
 
 Colonel Le 'Noiv sternly reprimanded his domestic man- 
 ager for her neglect of his orders, and dismissed her from 
 his presence. 
 
 The remainder of the day was passed by him in moody 
 thought. That evening he summoned his son to a private 
 conference in the parlor — an event that happily delivered 
 poor Clara Day from their presence at her fireside. 
 
 That night Clara, dreading lest at the end of their in- 
 terview they might return to her society, retired early to 
 her chamber, where she sat reading until a late hour, when 
 she went to bed and found transient forgetf ulness of trouble 
 in sleep. 
 
 Siie did not know how long she had slej^t, when she 
 was suddenly and terribly awakened by a w^oman's shriek 
 sounding from the room immediately overhead, in which, 
 upon the night previous, Capitola had slept. 
 
 Starting up in bed, Clara listened. 
 
 The shriek was repeated — prolonged and piercing, and 
 w^as accompanied by a muffled sound of struggling that 
 shook the ceiling overhead. 
 
 Instinctively springing from her bed, Clara threw on 
 her dressing-gown and flew to the door, but just as she 
 turned the latch to open it, she heard a bolt slipped on the 
 outside and found herself a prisoner in her own chamber. 
 
 Appalled, she stood and listened. 
 
 Presently there came a sound of footsteps on the stairs 
 
o02 ANOTHER MYSTERY AT THE HIDDEN HOUSE. 
 
 aiKl a heavy muffled noise as of some dead weight being 
 dragged down the staircase, and along the passage. Then 
 she heard the hall door cautiously opened and shut. And 
 finally she distinguished the sound of wheels rolling away 
 from the house. 
 
 Unable longer to restrain herself, she rapped and beat 
 upon her own door, crying aloud for deliverance. 
 
 Presently the bolt was withdrawn, the door jerked open 
 and Dorcas Knight, with a face of horror, stood before 
 her. 
 
 What is the matter ? Who was that screaming ? In 
 the name of mercy what has happened cried Clara, 
 shrinking in abhorrence from the ghastly woman. 
 
 Hush ! it is nothing ! there were two tom-cats 
 screaming and fighting in the attic, and they fought all the 
 way down stairs, rolling over and over each other. IVe 
 just turned them out,^"* faltered the woman, shivering as 
 with an ague fit. 
 
 What — what was that — that went away iij the car- 
 riage asked Clara, shuddering. 
 
 '^'The Colonel, gone to meet the early stage at Tip Top, 
 to take him to Washington. He would have taken leave 
 of you last night, but when he came to your parlor you had 
 left \ir 
 
 ^^But — but — there is Hood upon your hand, Dorcas 
 Knight I" cried Clara, shaking with horror. 
 
 " I — I know — The cats scratched me as I put them out,^^ 
 stammered the stern woman, trembling almost as much as 
 Clara herself. 
 
 These answers failed to satisfy the young girl, who 
 shrank in terror and loathing from that woman's presence, 
 and sought the privacy of her own chamber, murmuring : 
 
 What has happened ? What has been done, oh, 
 heaven ! Oh, heaven, have mercy on us ! some dreadful 
 deed has been done in this house, to-night 
 
 There was no more sleep for Clara. She heard the 
 
ANOTHEE MYSTERY AT THE niDDEX HOUSE. 363 
 
 clock strike every hour from one to six in the mo] ning, 
 when she arose and dressed herself and went from her 
 room, expecting to see upon the floor and walls, and upon 
 the faces of the household^ signs of some dreadful tragedy 
 enacted upon the previous night. 
 
 But all things were as usual — the same dark, gloomy 
 and neglected magnificence about the rooms and passages, 
 the same reserved, sullen and silent aspect about the 
 persons. 
 
 Dorcas Knight presided as usual at the head of the 
 breakfast table, and Craven Le Noir at the foot. Clara sat 
 in her accustomed seat at the side, midway between them. 
 
 Clara shuddered in taking her cap of coffee from the 
 hand of Dorcas, and declined the wing of fowl that Craven 
 Le Noir would have put upon her plate. 
 
 Not a word was said upon the subject of the mystery of 
 the preceding night, until Craven Le Noir, without ventur- 
 ing to meet the eyes of the young girl, said : 
 You look very pale, Clara V 
 
 Miss Day was frightened by the cati last night,*^ said 
 Dorcas. 
 
 Clara answered never a word. The ridiculous story 
 essayed to be palmed off upon her credulity in explanation 
 of the ni^ht s mj-ster}^, had not gained an instant/'s belief. 
 
 She knew that the cry that had startled her from sleep, 
 had burst in strong agony from human lips. 
 
 That the helj^less weight she had heard dragged down 
 the stairs and along the whole lengtk of the passage, was 
 some dead or insensible human form ! 
 
 That the blood she had seen upon the hand of Dorcas 
 Knight, was — oh, heaven, her mind shrank back appalled 
 with horror, at the thought which she dared not entertain I 
 She could only shudder, pray and trust in God. 
 
364 
 
 CAP FREES THE OAPT 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 CAP FREES THE CAPTIVE. 
 
 " Hold daughter ! I do spy a kind of hope, 
 Which craveth as desperate an execution 
 As that is desperate, which we would prevent 
 And if thou darest, Fll give the remedy ! 
 Hold, then ! go home, be merry, give consent 
 To marry Paris ! Wednesday is to-morrow !" 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 As THE autumn weather was now very pleasant, Capitola 
 continued her ridea-, and witliout standing upon ceremony, 
 repeated her visit to the Hidden House. She was as usual 
 followed by Wool, who kept at a respectful distance, and 
 who during his mistress's visit remained outside in atten- 
 dance upon the horses. 
 
 Capitola luckily was in no danger of encountering 
 Colonel Le Noir, who since the night of the mysterious 
 tragedy had not returned home ; but had gone to and set- 
 tled in his winter quarters at Washington City. 
 
 But she again met Craven Le l^oir, who, contrary to his 
 usual custom of accompanying his father upon his annual 
 migrations to tiie metropolis, had upon this occasion 
 remained home in close attendance upon his cousin, the 
 wealthy orphan. 
 
 Capitola found Clara the same sweet, gentle and patient 
 girl, Y/ith this difference only — that her youthful brow was 
 now overshadowed by a heavy trouble which could not 
 wholly be explained by her state of orphanage, or her sor- 
 row for the dead — it was too full of anxiety, gloom and 
 terror to have reference to the past alone. 
 
 Capitola saw all this, and trusting in her own powers, 
 
CAP FKEES THE CAPnVE." 
 
 would have souglit tlie confidence of the poor girl, with 
 the view of soothing her sorrows and helping her out of her 
 difficulties; but Miss Day, candid upon all other topics was 
 strangely reserved upon this subject, and Capitola, with all 
 her eccentricity, was too delicate to seek to intrude upon 
 the young niourner^s sanctuary of grief. 
 
 But a crisis was fast approaching which rendered further 
 concealment difficult and dangerous, and which threw Clara 
 for protection upon the courage, presence of mind and 
 address of Capitola. 
 
 Since Clara Day had parted with her betrothed and 
 taken up her residence beneath her guardian's roof, she had 
 regularly written both to Traverse at St. Louis, and to his 
 mother at Staunton. But she had received no reply from 
 either mother or sou. And months had passed filling the 
 the mind of Clara with anxiety upon their account. 
 
 She did not for one moment doubt tlmr constancy ; 
 alas ! it required but little perspicacity on her paii; to per- 
 ceive that the letters on either side must have been inter- 
 cepted by the Le Noirs — father and son ! 
 
 Her great anxiety was lest Mrs. Rocke and Traverse, 
 failing to hear from her, should imagine that she had forgot- 
 ten them. She longed to assure them she had not ! But 
 how should she do this ? — It was perfectly useless to write 
 and send the letter to the post-office by any servant at the 
 Hidden House^ for such a letter so sent would be sure to 
 find its way — not into the mail bags, but — into the pocket 
 of Colonel Le Noir. 
 
 Finally, Clara resolved to entrust honest Cap with so 
 much of her story as would engage her interest and co- 
 operation, and then confide to her care the letter to be 
 placed in the post-office. Clara had scarcely come to this 
 resolution ere, as \yQ said, an imminent crisis obliged her to 
 seek the further aid of Capitola. 
 
 Craven Le Noir had never abated his unacceptable atten- 
 tions to the orphan heiress. Day by day^ on the contrary. 
 
366 
 
 CAP FKEKc,^ THE CAPTIVE, 
 
 to Olara s unspeakable distress^ these attonti(;n - grcv; mcro 
 pointed and alarming. 
 
 At first she iiad received them coldly and repulsed them 
 gently ; but as they grew more ardent and devoted she 
 became colder and more reserved, until at length by main- 
 taining a freezing liauteur, at variance with her usually 
 sweet temper, she sought to repel the declaiation that v/as 
 ever ready to fall from his lips. 
 
 But notwithstanding her evident abhorence of his suif. 
 Craven Le Noir persisted in his purpose. 
 
 And so, one morning, he entered the parlor and finding 
 Clara alone, he closed the door, seated himself beside 
 her, took her hand and made a formal declaration of love 
 and proposal of marriage, urging his suit with all the elo- 
 quence of which he was master. 
 
 Now Clara Day, a Christian maiden, a recently bereaved 
 orphan and an affianced bride, had too profound a rcgai-d 
 for her duties towards God, her ffither's will, and lier be- 
 trothed husband^s rights, to treat this attempted invasion 
 of her faith in any other than the most deliberate, serious 
 and dignified manner. 
 
 "'I am very sorry, Mr. Le Koir, that it has at length 
 come to this. I thought I had conducted myself in such a 
 manner as totally to discourage any such purpose as this 
 which you have just honored me by disclosing. Now, 
 however, that tlie subject may be Fct at rest forever, I 
 feel bound to announce to you that my hand is already 
 plighted,'^ said Clara, gravely. 
 
 But my fairest and dearest love, your little hand can- 
 not be plighted without the consent of your guardian, who 
 would never countenance the imprudent pretensions vrliich 
 I understand to be made by the low born young man to 
 whom, I presume, you allude. That engagement wa;j a very 
 foolish affair, my dear girl, and only to be palliated upon the 
 gi'ound of your extreme childishness at the time of its being 
 You ?i?.ust' forget the whole matter, my sweetest love, 
 
CAP FREES THE CAPTIVE, 
 
 367 
 
 and prepare yourself to listen to a suit iviOTl- vrortliy ^jf your 
 social positiori,'" said Craven Le Xoir. attempting to steal 
 Ms a n il ar'jiind lier vaist. 
 
 Clara coldly repelled liim, saying : 
 
 ^'1 am ai: a loss to tinderstand, Mr. Le Xoir. vrhat aet of 
 levity on my part has givi-n yon tlie assurance to oiler me 
 this affront Y'' 
 
 Do yoit call it an affront, fair consin. that I lay my 
 hand and hearty and forttme, at yotir feet 
 
 ^'1 have called your aet, sir, Ijy its gentlest nan.e. 
 Under the circumstances, I might veil have calleil :t an 
 outrage 
 
 And what may be those circumstanos that oo:.vrr: an 
 act of — adoration — into an outrage, my sweet c 
 
 Sir, you know them well ! I have no: conceaied from 
 yourself or my guardian that lam the afSancc :1 'v/id : ^ef 
 Doctor Eocke, nor that our troth was plighted with iitll 
 consent of my dear fathee " ' ' Clara, g-e 
 
 '•Tut, tut, tut, my i.g cotisi:., . - :e 
 
 child^s play — a school girl's romantic whim ; do not di'.:-am 
 tliat yottr guardian will ever permit you to throw yourself 
 away upon that low-bred fellow !" 
 
 'Olr. Le Xoir, if you permit yotir.-eit to addrese me 
 in this manner, I shall feel compelled to retir " - - : 
 rema"'n here to have my honored fathers vdll C ^y. 
 and the rights of my betrothed, insulted in my person 
 said Clara, rising to leave the room. 
 
 '■^Xo — stay I forgive me, Clara I pardon me, gentlest 
 girl, if, in my great love for you. I grow impatient of any 
 other claim upon your heart, especially irem -ete-hi ; "^.r.- 
 wortky quarter ! Clara, you are a mere child. luii l i 
 erous, but romantic sentim.euty. and da::gernr.^ impitkes I 
 You require extra vigilance and firm exercise " ^ r' y 
 on the part of j'oiir guardians to save you :^ le, ; , . in 
 self-destruction I Audi some day^ sweet girl, you will 
 thank us for preserving you from the horrors of such a 
 
368 
 
 CAP FREES THE CAPTIVE. 
 
 mesalliance/^ said Craven Le Noir, gently detaining 
 her. 
 
 I tell you, Mr. Le Noir, that your manner of speak- 
 ing of my betrothal is equally insulting to myself, Doctor 
 Eocke, and my dear father, who never would have plighted 
 our hands had he considered our prospective marriage a 
 mesalliance.-'' 
 
 N"or do I suppose he ever did plight your hands — 
 wliile in his right senses ?" 
 
 Oh, sir ! this has been discussed before ! I beg of you 
 to let the subject drop forever, remembering that I hold 
 myself sacredly betrothed to Traverse Rocke, and ready — 
 when, at my legal majority, he shall claim me— to redeem 
 my plighted faiti by becoming his wife.'' 
 
 "Clara ! this is madness! it must not be endured, nor 
 shall not ! I have hitherto souglit to win your heart by 
 showing you the great extent of my love ! but be carefnl 
 how you scorn that love, or continue to taunt me with the 
 mention of an unworthy rival ! For though I use gentle 
 means, should I find them fail of their purpose, I sliall 
 know how to avail myself of harsher ones." 
 
 Clara disdained reply, except by permitting her clear 
 eye to pass over him from head to foot, with an expression 
 of consuming scorn that scathed him to the quick. 
 
 " I tell you to be careful, Clara Day ! I come to you 
 armed with the authority of your legal guardian, my 
 father. Colonel Le Noir, who will forestall your foolish 
 purpose of throwing yourself and your fortune away upon 
 a beggar, even though to do so, be strain his authority and 
 coerce you into taking a more suitable companion," said 
 Craven Le Noir, rising impatiently, and pacing the floor. 
 But no sooner had he spoken these words than he saw how 
 greatly he had injured his cause, and repented them. 
 Going to Clara and intercepting her as she was about to 
 leave the room, he gently took her hand, and dropping his 
 
GAP FEEES THE CAPTIVE. 
 
 369 
 
 eyes to the floor with a look of humility and penitence, he 
 said : 
 
 Clara, my sweet cousin, I know not how sufficiently to 
 express my sorrow at having been hurried into harshness 
 towards you ; — towards you whom I love more than my own 
 soul, and whom it is the fondest wish of my heart to call — 
 wife ! I can only excuse myself for this, or any future 
 extravagance of manner, by my excessive love for you and 
 the jealousy that maddens my brain at the bare mention of 
 my rival. That is it, sweet girl ! Can you forgive one 
 whom love and jealousy have hurried into frenzy V 
 
 " Mr. Le Noir, the Bible enjoins me to forgive injuries. 
 I shall endeavor, when I can^ to forgive you ; though for the 
 present, my heart is still burning under the sense of wrongs 
 done towards myself and those whom I love and esteem, and 
 the only way in which you can make me forget what has just 
 passed, will be — 7iever to repeat the offence." And with these 
 words, Clara bent her head and passed from the room. 
 
 Could she have seen the malignant scowl and gesture 
 with which Craven Le Noir followed her departure, she 
 would scarcely have trusted his expressions of penitence. 
 
 Lifting his arm above his head, he fiercely shook his fist 
 after her, and exclaimed : 
 
 Gro on, insolent girl, and imagine that you have hum- 
 bled me ! but the tune shall be changed by this day month ! 
 for before that time, whatever power the law gives the hus- 
 band over his wife and her property, shall be mine over 
 you and your possessions ! Then we shall see who shall be 
 insolent ! Then we shall see whose proud blue eye shall 
 day after day dare to look up and rebuke me ! Oh ! to get 
 you into my power, my girl ! not that I love you, moon- 
 faced creature ! but I want your possessions ! which is 
 quite as strong an incentive.''' 
 
 Then he fell into thought. He had an ugly way of 
 scowling and biting his nails when deeply brooding over 
 
370 
 
 CAP FREES THE CAPTIVE. 
 
 any subject, and now he walked slowly np and down the 
 floor with his head upon his breast, his brows drawn over 
 his nose, and his four fingers between his teeth, gnawing 
 away like a wild beast, while he muttered : 
 
 ^' She is not like the other one ! she has more sense 
 and strength ! she will give us more trouble. AVe must 
 continue to try fair means a little longer ! It will be diffi- 
 cult, for I am not accustomed to control my passions even 
 for a purpose ! Yet — penitence and love are the only cards 
 to be played to this insolent girl for the present. After- 
 ivards !" 
 
 Here his soliloquy muttered itself into silence, his head 
 sunk deeper upon his breast, his brows gathered lower over 
 his nose, and he walked and gnawed his nails like a hun- 
 gry wolf. 
 
 The immediate result of his cogitation was tliat he went 
 into the library and wrote off a letter to his father, telling 
 him all that had transpired between himself and Clara, and 
 asking his further counsel. 
 
 He despatched this letter, and waited an answer. 
 
 During the week that ensued before he could hope to 
 hear from Colonel Le Noir, he treated Clara with marked 
 deference and respect. 
 
 / And Clara on her part did not tax his forebcarance by 
 appearing in his presence oftener than she could possibly 
 avoid. 
 
 At the end of the week the expected letter came. It was 
 short and to the purpose. It ran thus : 
 
 Washington, Dec. 14, 18—. 
 My Dear Ckaven : — You are losing time. Do nor hope 
 to win the girl by the means you propose. She is too acute 
 to be deceived and to firm to be persuaded. We must not 
 hesitate to use the only possible means by which we can 
 coerce her into compliance. I shall follow this letter by the 
 
CAP FREES THE CAPTIVE. 
 
 371 
 
 first stage-coacli ; and;, before the beginning of the next 
 month, Clara Day shall be your wife. 
 
 Your affectionate father, 
 C. Le ISToiR, Esq., Hidden House. Gabriel Le Noir. 
 
 When Craven Le IS'oir read this letter, his thin white 
 face and deep- set eyes lighted up with triumph. Bat 
 Craven Le Noir huzzaed before he was out of the woods. 
 He had not calculated upon Capitola. 
 
 The next day Colonel Le Noir came to the Hidden House. 
 He arrived late in the afternoon. 
 
 After refreshing himself with a bath, a change of cloth- 
 ing, and a light luncheon, he went to the library where he 
 2^assed the remainder of the evening in a confidential con- 
 ference with his son. Their supper was ordered to be served 
 up to tliem there. And for that one evening Clara had the 
 comfort of taking her tea alone. 
 
 The result of this conference was that the next morn- 
 ing, after breakfast, Colonel Le Noir sent for Miss Day to 
 come to him in the library. 
 
 When Clara, nerving her gentle heart to resist a sinful 
 tyraimy, entered the library, Colonel Le Noir arose and 
 courtponsly handed her to a chair ; and then, seating him- 
 self beside her, said : 
 
 My dear Clara, the responsibilities of a guardian are 
 always very onerous, and his duties 7wt always very agree- 
 able, especially when his ward is the sole heiress of a large 
 property and the object of pursuit by fortune-hunters and 
 manoeuverers, male and female. When such is the case, 
 the duties and responsibilities of the guardian are aug- 
 mented a hundred fold.''' 
 
 " Sir, this cannot be so in mi/ case ; since yon are per- 
 fectly aware that my destiny is — humanly speaking — 
 already decided,'' replied Clara, with gentle firmness. 
 As 7iow, I pr.:y you^ my fair ward 
 
 ^^ygu P^niiQt possibly be at a loss to uuderRtand, sir, 
 
372 
 
 CAP FEEES THE CAPTIVE. 
 
 You have been already advised that I am betrothed to Dr. 
 Eocke, who will claim me as his v/ife upon the day that I 
 shall complete my twenty-first year/' 
 
 " Miss Clara Day, uo more of tbafc, I beseech you. It 
 is folly, perversity, frenzy ! But, thanks to the wisdom of 
 legislators, the law very properly invests the guardian with 
 great latitude of discretionary power over the person and 
 property of his ward — to be nsed, of course, for that ward^s 
 best iiiterest. And thus, my dear Clara, it is my duty, 
 v/hile holding this power over you, to exercise it for pre- 
 venting the possibility of your ever, either now or at any 
 future time, throwing yourself away upon a mere adventu- 
 rer. To do this, I must provide you with a suitable hus- 
 band. My son, Mr. Craven Le Noir, has long loved and 
 wooed you. He is a young man of good reputation and 
 fair prospects. I entirely approve his suit ; and as your 
 guardian, I command you to receive him for your destined 
 husband/^ 
 
 Colonel Le N'oir, this is no time ' for bated breath 
 and whispered humbleness.^ I am but a simple girl of 
 seventeen, but I understand your purpose and that of your 
 son just as well as though I were an old man of the world ! 
 You are the fortune-hunters and manoeuverers ! It is the 
 fortune of the wealthy heiress and friendless orphan that 
 you are in pursuit of ! But that fortune, like my hand 
 and heart, is already promised to one I love ; and to speak 
 very plainly to you, I would die ere I would disappoint him 
 or wed your son !" said Clara, with invincible firmness. 
 
 Die, girl? — there are worse things than death in the 
 world V said Colonel Le Noir, with a threatening glare. 
 
 ^' I know it ! and one of the worst things in the world 
 would be a union with a man I could neither esteem nor 
 even endure V exclaimed Clara. 
 
 Colonel Le Noir saw that there was no use in further 
 disguise. Throwing off, then, the last restraint of good 
 breeding, he said : 
 
CAP FEEES THE CAPTIVE. 
 
 373 
 
 •'And there are still more terrible evils for a woman 
 than to be the wife of one she 'can neither esteem nor 
 endure V'^ 
 
 Clara shook her head in proud scorn. 
 
 " There are evils_, to escape which, such a woman would 
 go down upon her bended knees to be made the wife of 
 such a man \" 
 
 Clara^s gentle eyes flashed with indignation ! 
 
 '' Infamous V' she cried. You slander all womanhood 
 in my person V 
 
 '' The evils to which I allude are — comprised in — a life 
 of dishonor I" hissed Le 'Noiv, through his set teeth. 
 
 '' This to my father^s daughter ?" exclaimed Clara, 
 growing white as death at the insult. 
 
 ''Aye, my girl ! it is time we understood each other ! 
 You are in my power, and / intend to coerce you, to my 
 wilir 
 
 Those words, accompanied as they were by a look that 
 left no doubt upon her mind that he would carry out his 
 purpose to any extremity, so appalled the maiden's soul that 
 she stood like one suddenly struck with catalepsy. 
 
 The unscrupulous wretch then ap]Droached her and said : 
 "I am going now to the county seat to take out a mar- 
 riage license for you and my son. I shall have the carriage 
 at the door by six o'clock this evening, when I desire that 
 you will be ready to accompany us to church, where a cleri- 
 cal friend will be in attendance to perform the marriage 
 ceremony ! — Clara Day, if you would save your honor, look 
 to this 
 
 All this time Clara had neither moved, nor spoken, nor 
 breathed. She had stood cold, white and still, as if turned 
 to stone. 
 
 "Let no vain hope of escape delude your mind. The 
 doors will be kept locked ; the servants are all warned not 
 to suffer you to leave the house. Look to it, Clara, for the 
 rising of another sun shall see my purpose accomplished P 
 
374 
 
 And with these words the atrocious wretch left the room. 
 His departure took off the dreadful spell that had paralyzed 
 Clara^s life ; her blood began to circulate again ; breath 
 came to her lungs and speech to her lips. 
 
 Oh, Lord," she cried ; Oli, Lord, who delivered the 
 children from the fiery furnace, deliver thy poor handmaiden 
 now from her terrible foes." 
 
 While thus she prayed, she saw upon the writing table 
 before her a small penknife. Her cheeks flushed and her 
 eyes brightened as she seized it : 
 
 This ! this!" she said, *Hhis small instrument, is 
 sufficient to save me ! Should the worst ensue — I kuow 
 where to find the carotid artery, and even such a slight 
 puncture as my timorous hand could make would set my 
 spirit free. Oh, my father ! oh, my father ! you little 
 thought when you taught your Clara the mysteries of anat- 
 omy, to what fearful use she would put your lessons. — And 
 would it be right ? — Oh, would it be right ? One may 
 desire death; but can anything justify suicide? — Oh, 
 Father in Heaven, guide me ! guide me !" cried Clara, fall- 
 ing uj)on her knees and sobbing forth this prayer of agony ! 
 
 Soon approaching footsteps drew her attention. And 
 she had only time to rise and put back her damp, dishev- 
 elled hair from her tear-stained face, before the door o|)ened 
 and Dorcas Knight appeared, and said : 
 
 Here is this young woman come again !" 
 And rudely ushering in Capitola, she closed the door 
 and retreated. 
 
 I declare. Miss Day," said Cap, laughing, you have 
 the most accomplished, polite and agreeable servants here 
 that ever I met with ! Think wdth what a courteous wel- 
 come this woman received me — ' Here you are again !' she 
 said. ' You'll come once too often for your good, and that 
 I tell you.' I answered that every time I came it appeared 
 to be once too often for her liking. She rejoined — ' The 
 Oo]ojiel has come homOj and he don^fc lilse company, so I 
 
CAP FEEE5 THE CAPTIVE. 
 
 37c 
 
 advise jou to make your cull a sliort one/ I assured her 
 that I should measure the length of my visit by the breadth 
 
 of my will But good angels^ Clara I what is the matter ? 
 
 You look worse than death V exclaimed Capitola^ noticing 
 for the first ^time the pale, wild, despairing face of her 
 companion. 
 
 Clara clasped her hands as if in prayer, and raised her 
 eyes with an appealing gaze into Capitola's face. 
 
 Tell me, dear Clara, what is the matter ? how can I 
 help you ? what shall I do for you ?''' said our heroine. 
 
 Before trusting herself to reply, Clara gazed wistfully 
 into Capitola^s eyes, as though she would liave read her 
 soul. 
 
 Cap did not blench, nor for an instant avert her own 
 honest, gray orbs ; she let Clara gaze straight down through 
 those clear windows of the soul into the very soul itself, 
 where she found ouly truth, honesty and courage. 
 
 The scrutiny seemed to be satisfactory, for Clara soon 
 took the hand of her visitor, and said : 
 
 '■''Capitola, I will tell you. It is a horrid, horrid story, 
 but you shall know all. Come with me to my chamber." 
 
 Cap pressed the hand that was so confidingly placed in 
 hers, and accompanied Clara to her room, where, after the 
 latter had taken the precaution to lock the door, the two 
 girls sat down for a confidential talk. 
 
 Clara, like the author of Eobin Hood's Barn, began 
 at the beginning" of her story, and told everything — her 
 betrothal to Traverse Rocke ; the sudden death of her 
 father ; the decision of the Orphan^s Court ; the departure 
 of Traverse for the far West ; her arrival at the Hidden 
 House ; the interruption of all her epistolary correspon- 
 dence Avith her betrothed and his mother ; the awful and 
 mysterious occurrence of that dreadful night when she 
 suspected some heinous crime had been committed ; and 
 finally of the long, unwelcome suit of Craven Le Xoir, and 
 the present attempt to force him upon her as a husband. 
 
376 
 
 CAP FREIJS THE CAtTlVE. 
 
 Cap listened very calmly to this story, showing very 
 little sympathy, for there was not a bit of sentimentality 
 about our Cap. 
 
 ''And now," whispered Clara, while the pallor of horror 
 overspread her face, ''by threatening me with a fate worse 
 than death, they would drive me to marry Craven Le Noir V 
 
 " Yes, I know I would,^^said Cap, as if speaking to her- 
 self, but by her tone and manner clothing these simple 
 words in the very keenest sarcasm. 
 
 " What would you do, Capitola asked Clara, raising 
 her tearful eyes to the last speaker. 
 
 " Marry Mr. Craven Le Noir, and thank him, too !" 
 said Cap. Then suddenly changing her tone, she exclaimed: 
 
 "I wish — oh ! 7iow I wish it was only rde in your place 
 — that it was only me they were trying to marry against my 
 will V 
 
 " What would you do asked Clara, earnestly. 
 
 " Wliat loould I dof Oh ! wouldn't I make them know 
 the difference between their Sovereign Lady and Sam the 
 Lackey ? If I had been in your place, and the dastard Le 
 Noir had said to me what he said to you, I do be lieve I should 
 have stricken him dead with the lightning of my eyes ! But 
 what shall you do, my poor Clara T' 
 
 "Alas ! alas ! see here ! this is my last resort \" replied 
 the unhappy girl, showing the little pen-knife. 
 
 " Put it away from you ! put it away from yon ex- 
 claimed CajDitola, earnestly ; " suicide is never, never, never 
 justifiable ! God is the lord of life and death ! He is tlie 
 only judge whether a mortal's sorrows are to be relieved by 
 death, and wlion he does not himself release you, he means 
 that you shall live and endure. That proves that suicide is 
 never right, let the Roman pagans have said and done what 
 they joleased. So no more of that. There are enough other 
 ways of escape for you.'' 
 
 " Ah ! what are they ? You would give me life by 
 teaching me how to escape !" said Clara, fervently. 
 
CAP FREES THE CAPTIVE. 
 
 " The first and most obvious means that suggests itself 
 to my mind," said Cap, ''is to — run away.-" 
 
 Ah ! that is impossible ! The servants are warned ; 
 the doors are all locked ; I am watched V 
 
 " Then the next plan is equally obvious ; consent to go 
 with them to the church, and when you get there, denounce 
 them, and claim the protection of the clergyman !" 
 
 ''Ah ! dear girl, that is still more impracticable. The 
 ofiiciating clergyman is their friend ; and even if I could 
 consent to act a deceitful part, and should go to church as 
 if to marry Craven, and upon getting there, denounce him, 
 instead of receiving the protection of the clergyman, I 
 should be restored to the hands of my legal guardian, and 
 be brought back here to meet a fate worse than death," 
 said Clara, in a tone of despair. 
 
 Capitola did not at once reply, but fell into deep thought, 
 which lasted many minutes. Then, speaking more gravely 
 than she had spoken before, she said : 
 
 " There is but one plan of escape left ! your only remain- 
 ing chance, and that full of danger." 
 
 " Oh ! why should I fear danger ? What evil can befall 
 me so great as that which now threatens me ?" said Clara. 
 
 " This plan requires on your part great courage, self- 
 control and presence of mind." 
 
 " Teach me, teach me, dear Capitola. I will be an apt 
 pupil !" 
 
 " I have thought it all out, and will tell you my plan. 
 It is now eleven o^clock in the forenoon, and the carriage is 
 to come for you at six this evening, I believe ?" 
 Yes ! yes !" 
 
 "Then you have seven hours in which to save yourself. 
 And this is my plan : First, Clara, you must change clothes 
 with me, giving me your suit of mourning and putting on 
 my riding habit, hat and veil. Then leaving me here in 
 your place, you are to pull the veil down closely over your 
 f^e and walk right out of the house. No one will speak to 
 
378 
 
 CAP FEEES THE CAPTIVE. 
 
 you, for they never do to me. When you have reached the 
 yard, spring upon my horse and put whip to him for the 
 village of Tip Top. My servant, Wool, will ride after you, 
 but not speak to you or approach near enough to discover 
 your identity — for he has been ordered by his master to keep 
 me in sight, and he has been forbidden by his mistress to 
 intrude upon her privacy. You w ill reach Tip Top by three 
 o^clock, when the Staunton stage passes through. You may 
 then reveal yourself to Wool, give my horse into his charge, 
 get into the coach and start for Staunton. Upon reaching 
 that place, put yourself under the protection of your friends, 
 the two old physicians, and get them to prosecute your 
 guardian for cruelty and flagrant abuse of authority. Be 
 cool, firm and alert, and all will be wellP^ 
 
 Clara, who had listened to this little Napoleon in petti- 
 coats with breathless interest, now clasped her hands in a 
 wild ecstasy of joy, and exclaimed : 
 
 I will try it ! Oh, Capitola, I will try it ! Heaven 
 bless you for the counsel \" 
 
 Be quick, then, change your dress, provide yourself 
 with a purse of money, and I will give you particular direc- 
 tions how to make a short cut for Tip Top ! Ha, ha, ha ! 
 when they come for the bride she will be already rolling on 
 the turnpike between Tip Top and Staunton. 
 
 But you ! Oh, you, my generous deliverer T' 
 
 ^'1 shall dress myself in your clothes and stay here in 
 your place to keep you from being missed, so as to give you 
 full time to make your escape.'^ 
 
 ^'But, you will place yourself in the enraged lion's 
 jaws. You will remain in the power of two men who 
 know neither justice nor mercy, who in their love or their 
 hate fear neither God nor man. Oh, Capitola, how can I 
 take an advantage of your generosity, and leave you here 
 in such extreme peril ? Capitola, I cannot do iiJ' 
 
 Well, then, 1 believe you must be anxious to marry 
 CraTen Le Noir/' 
 
CAP TEEES THE CAPTIVB. 
 
 379 
 
 '^Oh, Capitola/' 
 
 Well, if you are not, hurry and get ready ; there is no 
 time to be lost." 
 
 But you ! but you, my generous friend 
 
 Never mind me. /shall be safe enough. / am not 
 afraid of the Le !N"oirs. Bless their wigs, I should lil^e to 
 see them make me blench. On the contrary, I desire aboye 
 all things to be pitted against those two. How^ I shall 
 enjoy their disappointment and rage. Oh, it Avill be a rare 
 frolic." 
 
 While Capitola was speaking she was also busily engaged 
 doing. She went softly to the door and turned the key in 
 the lock, to prevent any one from looking through the key- 
 hole, murmuring as she did it : 
 
 I wasn't brought up among the detective policemen 
 for nothing.-'' 
 
 Then she began to take off her riding-habit. Quickly 
 she dressed Clara, superintending all the details of her dis- 
 guise as carefully as though she were the costumer of a new 
 debutante. When Clara was dressed, she was so nearly of 
 the same size and shape of Capitola, that from behind no 
 one would have suspected her identity. 
 
 There, Clara, tuck your light hair otit of the way ; 
 pull your cap over your eyes ; gather your veil down close ; 
 draw up your figure ; throw back your head ; walk with a 
 little springy sway and swaggei", as if you didn't care a 
 damson for anybody, and — there I I declare, nobody could 
 tell you from me," exclaimed Capitola, in delight, as she 
 completed the disguise and the instructions of Clara. 
 
 Then Capitola dressed herself in Clara's deep mourning 
 robes. And then the two girls sat down to compose them- 
 selves for a few minutes, while Capitola gave new and par- 
 ticular directions for Clara's course and conduct, so as to 
 ensure, as far as human foresight could do it, the safe ter- 
 mination of her perilous adventure. By the time they had 
 ended their talk the hall clock struck twelve. 
 
380 
 
 CAP FEEES THE CAPTIVE). 
 
 " There, it is full time you should be off. Be calm, be 
 cool^ be firm, and God bless you, Clara. Dear girl, if I 
 were only a young man, I would deliver you by the strength 
 of my own arm, without subjecting you to inconvenience 
 or danger," said Cap, gallantly, as she led Clara to the 
 chamber door, and carefully gathered her thick veil in close 
 folds over her face, so as entirely to conceal it. 
 
 '^Oh, may the Lord in Heaven bless and preserve and 
 reward you, my brave, my noble, my heroic Capitola V 
 said Clara, fervently, with the tears rushing to her eyes. 
 
 " Bosh," said Cap. " If you go doing the sentimental 
 you won't look like me a bit, and that will spoil all. 
 There, keep your veil close, for it^s windy you know ; 
 throw back your head, and swing yourself along with a 
 swagger, as if you didn't care a — hem ! for anybody, and — 
 there you are," said Cap, pushing Clara out and shutting 
 the door behind her. 
 
 Clara paused an instant to offer up one short fervent 
 prayer for her success and Capitola's safety, and then fol- 
 lowing her instructions, went on. 
 
 Nearly all girls are clever imitators, and Clara readily 
 adopted Capitola's light, springy, swaying walk, and met old 
 Dorcas Knight in the hall, without exciting the slightest 
 suspicion of her identity. 
 
 Humph," said the woman ; so you are going. I 
 advise you not to come back again." 
 
 Clara threw up her head with a swagger, and went on. 
 Very well, you may scorn my words, but if you know 
 your own good, you'll follow my advice," said Dorcas 
 Knight, harshly. 
 
 Clara threw up her head and passed out. 
 
 Before the door Wool was waiting with the horses. 
 Keeping her face closely muffled, Clara went to Capitola's 
 pony. Wool came and helped her into the saddle saying : 
 
 *^ Yer does right, Miss Cap, to keep your face kivcred ; 
 
CAP FREES THE CAPTIVE. 
 
 mi 
 
 it's awful windy, aint ifc tliougli ? I kin scarcely keep the 
 hat from blowing off en my head/' 
 
 With an impatient jerk after the manner of Capitola, 
 Clara signified that she did not wish to converse. Wool 
 dropped obediently behind, mounted his horse, and followed 
 at a respectful distance, until Clara turned her horse's head 
 and took the bridle-path towards Tip Top. This move 
 filled poor Wool with dismay. Hiding towards her, he 
 exclaimed : 
 
 Deed, Miss Cap, yer mus' sense me for speakin' now. 
 Whar de mischief is yer a'goin' to 
 
 For all answer Clara, feigning temper of Capitola, sud- 
 denly wheeled her horse, elevated her riding whip, and 
 galloped upon Wool in a threatening manner. 
 
 Wool dodged and backed his horse with all possible 
 expedition— exclaiming in consternation : 
 
 Dar ! Dar, Miss Cap, I won't go for to ax you any 
 more questions — no — not if yer rides straight to Old Nick 
 or Black Donald V 
 
 Whereupon receiving this apology in good part, Clara 
 again turned her horse's head and rode on her way. 
 
 Wool followed, bemoaning the destiny that kept him 
 between the two fierce fires of his old master's despotism 
 and his young mistress's caprice, and muttering : 
 
 ^^I know old marse and dis young gal am going to be 
 the death of me. I knows it jes' as well as nuffin at all. 
 I 'clare to man, if it ain't nuff to make anybody go heave 
 themselves right into a grist mill and be ground up at 
 once." 
 
 Wool spoke no more until they got to Tip Top, when 
 Clara, still closely veiled, rode up to the stage office just as 
 the coach, half filled with pass&ngers, was about to start. 
 Springing from her horse, she went up to Wool, and said : 
 
 '''Here, man, take this horse back to Hurricane Hall. 
 Tell Major Warfield that Miss Black remains at the Hidden 
 House in imminent danger. Ask him to ride there and 
 
382 
 
 CAP FREES THE CAPTIVE. 
 
 bring her home. Tell Miss Black,, when you see her, that 
 I reached Tip Top safe and in time to take the coach. 
 Tell her I will never cease to be grateful. And now, here 
 is a half eagle for your trouble. Good-bye, and God bless 
 you.^^ And she put the piece in his hand and took her place 
 in the coach, whicli immediately started. 
 
 As for Wool ! ! ! — From the time that Clara had thrown 
 aside her veil and began to speak to him, he had stood 
 staring and staring — his consternation growing and grow- 
 ing — until it had seemed to have turned him into stone — 
 from which state of petrifaction he did not recover until 
 he saw the stage coach roll rapidly away, carrying off — 
 whom ? Capitola, Clara, or the Evil one ? — Wool could 
 not have told which ! He presently astounded the people- 
 about the stage office by leaving his horse and taking to 
 his heels after the stage coach, vociferating : 
 
 Murder ! murder ! help ! help ! stop thief ! stop thief ! 
 stop the coach ! stojD the coach P 
 
 ^' What is the matter, man said a constable, trying to 
 head him. 
 
 But Wool incontinently ran over the officer, throwing 
 him down and keeping on his headlong course, hat off, coat- 
 tail streaming, and legs and arms flying like the sails of a 
 windmill, as he tried to overtake the coach, crying : 
 
 " Help ! Murder ! Head the horses ! Stop the coach ! 
 Ole Marse told me not to lose sight of her ! Oh, for hol)- 
 ben's sake, good people, stop the coach V 
 
 When he got to a gate, instead of taking time to open 
 it, he rolled himself summerset-like right over it. When 
 he met man or woman, instead of turning from his straight 
 course, he knocked them over and passed on, garments fly- 
 ing, and legs and arms circulating with the velocity of a 
 wheel. 
 
 The people whom he successively met and overthrew in 
 his course^ picking themselves up, and getting intj the 
 
CAP FREES THE CAPTIVE. 
 
 383 
 
 village, reported that tliere was a furious madman broke 
 loose, who attacked every one lie met. 
 
 And soon every man and boy in the village who could 
 mount a horse started in hot j^ursuit. Oiily race horses 
 would have beaten the speed with which Wool ran, urged 
 on by fear. It was nine miles on the tarnpike road from 
 Tip Top that the horsemen overtook and snrrounded AYool, 
 who seeing himself hopelessly environed fell down upon the 
 ground and kicked, swearing that he would not be taken 
 alive to have his eyelids cut off ! 
 
 It was not until after a desperate resistance that he was 
 finally taken, bound, put in a wagon and carried back to the 
 village, where he was recognized as Major Warfield^s man, 
 and a messenger was dispatched for his master. 
 
 And not until he had been repeatedly assured that no 
 harm should befall him, did Wool gain composure enough 
 to say, amid tears of cruel grief and fear : 
 
 ^' Oh, marsers, my young missuss. Miss Black, done been 
 conjured and bewitched and turned into somebody , else, 
 right afore my own two looking eyes, and gone off in dat 
 coach ! 'deed she is, and ole marse kill me ! 'deed he will, 
 gemmcn. He vv^ent and ordered mo not to take my eyes 
 off en her, and no more I didn't. But what good that do, 
 when she turned to somebody else, and Went off right afore 
 my two looking eyes I But ole marse won't listen to reason ! 
 He'll kill me, I know he will P whimpered Wool, refusing 
 to be comforted. 
 
384 
 
 CAP IN CAPTIVITY. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 I 
 
 j CAP IN CAPTIVITY. 
 
 5 " I lingered here and rescue planned 
 
 For Clara and for me." — Scott. 
 
 Meanwhile how fared it with Oapitola in the Hidden 
 House ? 
 
 ''I am in for it now V said Cap, as she closed the door 
 behind Clara ; I am in for it now ! This is a jolly 
 imprudent adventure ! What will Wool do when he dis- 
 covers that he lias Host sight ^ of me? What will uncle 
 say when he finds out what I\e done ? Whe — ew ! Uncle 
 will explode ! I wonder if the walls at Hurricane Hnll 
 will be strong enough to stand it ? Wool will go mad ! I 
 doubt if he will ever do a bit more good in this world ! 
 
 But above all, I wonder what the Le Noirs, father 
 and son, will say when they find that the heiress has 
 flown, and a ' beggar,^ as uncle flatters me by calling me, 
 will be here in her place ! Whe — ew — ew — ew ! There 
 will be a tornado ! Cap, child, they'll murder you ! thafc't; 
 just what they'll do ! They'll kill and eat you. Cap, with- 
 out any salt ! or they may lock you up in the haunted 
 room to live with the ghost. Cap, and that would bo 
 worse ! 
 
 Hush ! here comes Dorcas Knight ! Now I must 
 make believe I'm Clara, and do the sentimental up 
 brown !" concluded Capitola, as she seated herself near the 
 door where she could be heard, and began to sob softly. 
 Dorcas rapped. 
 Cap sobbed in response. 
 Are you coming to luncheon. Miss Day inquired 
 the woman. 
 
CAP IN CAPTIVITY. 
 
 385 
 
 '^Ee — liee! Ee — hee! Ee — hee ! I do not want to 
 eat/^ sobbed Cap^ in a low and smothered voice. Any one 
 would have thought she was drowned in tears. 
 
 Very well — just as you like/^ said the woman, 
 harshly, as she went away. 
 
 '^Well, I declare/Maughed Cap, '^I did that quite as 
 well as an actress could ! But now what am I to do ? 
 How long can I keep this up ? Heigh-ho ! ' let the world 
 slide !" ril not reveal myself until I^'m driven to it, for 
 when I do — ! Cap, child, you^ll get chawed right up V 
 
 A little later in the day Dorcas Knight came again, and 
 rapped at the door. 
 
 '''m—liee ! Ee—7iee ! ^e—hee r sobbed Cap. 
 
 ''Miss Day, your cousin, Craven Le Noir, wishes to 
 speak with you alone.'' 
 
 " Ee — 7iee ! Ee — hee ! Ee — hee ! 1 cannot see him,'* 
 sobbed Cap, in a low and suffocating voice. 
 
 The woman went away, and Cap suffered no other 
 interruption until six o'clock, when Dorcas Knight once 
 more rapped, saying : 
 
 '' Miss Day, your uncle is at the front door with the 
 carriage, and he wishes to know if you are ready to obey 
 him." 
 
 ''Ee— te/ 'EiQ—hee! 'Ee—heef — te— te— tell him 
 yes sobbed Cap, as if her heart would break. 
 
 The woman went off with this answer, and Capitola 
 hastily enveloped her form in Clara's large black shawl, 
 put on Clara's black bonnet, and tied her thick mourning 
 veil closely over her face. 
 
 " A pretty bridal dress this ! but, however, I suppose 
 these men are no more particular about my costume than 
 they are about their own conduct," said Cap. 
 
 She had just drawn on her gloves when she heard the 
 footsteps of two men approaching. They rapped at the 
 door. 
 
 " Come in," she sobbed, in a low, broken voice, that 
 
586 
 
 CAP IN CAPTIVITY. 
 
 might have belonged to any girl in deep distress, and she 
 put a white cambric handkerchief up to her eyes and drew 
 her thick veil closely over her face. 
 
 The two Le Noirs immediately entered the room. Cra- 
 ven approached her, and whispered, softly : 
 
 You will forgive me this, my share in these proceed- 
 ings after awhile, sweet Clara. The Sabine women did not 
 love the Roman youths the less that they were forcibly 
 made wives by them.^' 
 
 ^^Ee — liee ! Ee — hee! Ee — h&e sobbed Cap, entirely 
 concealing her face in her white cambric handkerchief 
 under her impenetrable vail. 
 
 Come, come ! we lose time/' said the elder Le Noir. 
 ^^Draw her arm within yours, Craven, and lead her out."' 
 
 The young man did as he was directed, and led Cap 
 from the room. It was now quite dark — the long dreary 
 passage was only dimly lighted by a hanging lamp, so that 
 with the care she took there was scarcely a possibility of 
 Capitola's being discovered. They went on, Craven Le 
 Noir whispering hypocritical apologies, and Cap replying 
 only by sobs. 
 
 When they reached the outer door, they found a close 
 carriage drawn up before the house. 
 
 To this Craven Le Noir led Capitola, placed her within 
 and took the seat by her side. Colonel Le Noir placed 
 himself on the front seat opposite them, and the carriage 
 was driven rapidly off. 
 
 An hours ride brought the party to an obscure church 
 in the depths of the forest, which Capitola recognized by 
 the cross on its top, to be a Roman Catholic Chapel. 
 
 Here the carriage drew up and the two Le Noirs got 
 out and assisted Capitola to alight. 
 
 They then led her into the church, which was dimly 
 illumined by a pair of wax candles burning before the 
 altar. A priest in his sacerdotal robes was in attendance. 
 
CAP IN" CAPnYITT. 
 
 3S7 
 
 A few country people were scattered thinly about among 
 the pews^ at their private deyotions. 
 
 G-uarded by Craven Le Xoir on the right, and Colonel 
 Le Xoir on the left, Capitola was marched up the aisle and 
 placed before the altar. 
 
 Colonel Le Xoir then went and spoke apart to the offi- 
 ciating priest, saying, in a tone of dissatisfaction : 
 
 I told you, sir, that as our bride was an orphan, 
 recently bereaved, and still in deep mourning, we wished 
 the marriage ceremony to be strictly private, and you gave 
 me to understand, sir, that at this hour, the chapel was 
 most likely to be vacant. Y&t here I find half a score of 
 people. How is this ?*' 
 
 Sir,'^ replied the priest, '^it is true, that at this hour 
 of the evening, the chapel is most likely to be vacant, but 
 it is not therefore certain to be so, nor did I promise as 
 much. Our chapel is, as you know, open at all hours of 
 the day and night, that all who please may come and pray. 
 These people that you see are hard-working f;irm laborers, 
 'vlio have no time to come in the day, and who are now 
 here to oSer up their evening prayers and, also, some of 
 tliem to examine their consciences preparatory to confcs- 
 ivm. They can certainly be no interruption to the cere- 
 mony." 
 
 '''Egad, I don't know that," muttered Colonel Le Xoir 
 between his teeth. 
 
 As for Cap the sight of other persons present in the 
 chapel filled her heart with joy and exultation, inasmuch 
 as it ensured her final safety. And so she just abandoned 
 herself to the spirit of frolic that possessed her. and antici- 
 pated with the keenest relish the denouement of her strange 
 adventure. 
 
 '^"Well, wkat are we waiting for? Proceed, sir, pro- 
 ceed,"^ said Colonel Le Xoir, as he took Cap by the 
 shoulders and placed her on the left side of his son, while 
 he himself stood behind ready to ' give the bride away/ 
 
"B88 
 
 CAP IN CAPTIVITY. 
 
 The cea'emony immediately commenced. 
 
 The prologue beginnings — Dearly Beloyed, we are 
 gathered together here/' etc.^, etc., etc., was read. 
 
 The solemn exhortation to the contracting parties com- 
 mencing — I require and charge ye both, as sI.g shall 
 answer in the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of 
 all hearts shall be disclosed^ that if either of you know any 
 just cause or impediment why ye may not be lawfully be 
 joined together, etc., etc., etc., followed. 
 
 Capitola listened to all this with the deepest attention, 
 saying to herself — Well, I declare, this getting married is 
 really awfully interesting. If it were not for Herbert G-rey- 
 son, Fd just let it go right straight on to the end, and see 
 what would happen next.'' 
 
 While Cap was making these mental comments the priest 
 was asking the bridegroom : 
 
 Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife," 
 etc., etc., etc., etc., ^^so long as ye both shall live ?" 
 
 To which Craven Le ISToir, in a sonorous voice responded : 
 I will." 
 
 " Indeed you will ? We'll see that presently," said Cap, 
 to herself. 
 
 The priest then turning towards the bride, inquired : 
 
 ''Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband," 
 etc., etc., etc., "so long as ye both shall live ?" 
 
 To which the bride, throwing aside her veil, answered 
 firmly : * 
 
 " No ! not if he were the last man and I the last woman 
 on the face of the earth, and the human race were about 
 to become extinct, and the angel Gabriel came down from 
 above to ask it of me as a personal favor." 
 
 The effect of this outburst, this revelation, this explosion, 
 may be imagined but can never be adequately described. 
 
 The priest dropped his book, and stood with lifted hands 
 and open mouth and staring eyes as though he had raised a 
 ghost I 
 
CAP IN CAPTIYITr. 
 
 389 
 
 The two Le Noirs simultaneously spraug forward^ 
 astonisliment, disappointment and rage contending in their 
 blanched faces ! 
 
 Who are you, girl V exclaimed Colonel Le Noir. 
 Capitola Black, your honoris glory V she replied^ 
 making a deep courtesy. 
 
 What the foul fiend is the meaning of all this in 
 the same breath inquired the father and son. 
 
 Cap put her thumb to the side of her nose and whirling 
 her four fingers, replied : 
 
 '*It means, your worships^ excellencies, that — you — 
 oan't — come it ! it's no go ! this chicken won't fight. It 
 means that the fat^s in the fire, and the cat's out of the 
 bag. It means confusion ! distraction ! perdition ! and a 
 tearing off of our wigs ! It means the gamers up, the plays 
 over, villiany is about to be hanged, and virtue about to be 
 rewarded, and the curtain is going to drop, and the princi- 
 pal performer — that^s I — is going to be called out amid the 
 applause of the audience ?" Then suddenly changing her 
 mocking tone to one of great severity, she said : 
 
 ''It means that you have been outwitted by a girl ; it 
 means that your proposed victim has fled, and is by this 
 time in safety. It means that you two, precious father and 
 son would be a pair of knaves if you had sense enough ; 
 but, failing in that, you are only a pair of fools. 
 
 By this time the attention of the few persons in the 
 church was aroused. They all arose to their feet to look 
 and listen, and some of them left their places and 
 approached the altar. And to these latter Capitola now 
 suddenly turned and said, aloud : 
 
 Good people, I am Capitola Black, the niece and 
 ward of Major Ira Warfield, of Hurricane Hall, whom you 
 all know ; and now I claim your protection while I shall 
 tell you the meaning of my presence here.'" 
 
 " Don't listen to her ! she is a maniac V' cried Colonel 
 Le Noir. 
 
390 
 
 CAP IN CAPTIVITY. 
 
 ''Stop her mouth 1" cried Craven, springing upon Cap- 
 itola, and holding her tightly in the grasp of his right arm, 
 while he covered her lips and nostrils with his large left 
 hand. 
 
 Capitola struggled so fiercely to free herself that Craven 
 had enough to do to hold her^ and so was not aware of a 
 ringing footstep coming up the aisle, until a stunning hlow 
 dealt from a strong arm covered his face with blood, and 
 stretched him out at Capitola^s feet. 
 
 Cap flushed, breathless, and confused, looked up, and 
 was caught to the bosom of Herbert Greyson, who, pale 
 with concentrated rage, held her closely, and inquired : 
 
 Capitola, what violence is this which has been done 
 you ? — Explain, who is the aggressor ?" 
 
 " Wai — wai — wait until I get my breath ! — there ! that 
 was good. That villain has all but strangled me to death. 
 Oh, Herbert, Fm so delighted you've come ! How is it 
 that you always drop right down at the right time and on 
 the right spot ?" said Cap, while gasping for breath. 
 
 " I will tell you another time. Now I want an explan- 
 ation. 
 
 ''Yes, Herbert, I also wish to explain — not only to you, 
 but to these gaping good people. Let me have a hearing 
 said Cap. 
 
 ''She is mad — absolutely mad V cried Colonel Le Noir, 
 who was assisting his son to rise. 
 
 "SiLEKCE, SIR thundered Herbert Greyson, advanc- 
 ing towards him with uplifted and threatening hand. 
 
 " Gentlemen, gentlemen ! pray remember that you are 
 within the walls of a church I" said the distressed priest. 
 
 " Craven, this is no place for us — let us go and pursue 
 our fugitive ward," whispered Colonel Le Noir to his son. 
 
 "We might as well ; for it is clear that all is over here,'' 
 replied Craven. 
 
 And the two baffled villains turned to leave the place. 
 Bat Herbert Greyson, speaking up, said : 
 
CAP m CAPTIVITT. 
 
 391 
 
 Good people ! prevent the escape of those men until we 
 hear what this young lady has to say, that we may judge 
 whether to let them go or to take them before a magistrate/' 
 The people flew to the doors and windows and secured 
 them, and then surrounded the two Le Noirs, who found 
 themselves prisoners. 
 
 " Now Capitola, tell us how it is that you are here ?" 
 said Herbert Greyson. 
 
 Well, that elder man," said Cap, ''is the guardian of 
 a young heiress, who was betrothed to a worthy young man, 
 one Dr. Traverse Eocke." 
 
 My friend," interrupted Herbert. 
 " Yes, Mr. Greyson, your friend. The engagement was 
 approved by the young lady^s father, who gave them his 
 dying blessing. Nevertheless, in the face of all this, this 
 'guardian ' here, appointed by the Orphans' Court to take 
 charge of tlie heiress and her foiiune, undertakes, for his 
 own ends, to compel the young lady to break her engage- 
 ment and marry his own son. To drive her to this measure, 
 he does not hesitate to use every species of cruelty. This 
 night he was to have forced her to this altar. But in the 
 interval, to-da,y, I chanced to visit her at the house v/here 
 she was confined. Being informed by her of her distressing 
 situation, and having no time to help her in any better way, 
 I just changed clothes with her. She escaped unsuspected 
 in my dress. And those two heroes there, mistaking me for 
 her, forced me into a carriage and dragged me hither to be 
 married against my will. And instead of catching an 
 heiress, they caught a Tartar — that's all ! And now, Her- 
 bert, let the two poor wretches go hide their mortificaf-ion, 
 and do you take me home, for I am immensely tired of 
 doing the sentimental, making speeches, and piling up 
 the agonies." 
 
 While Cap was delivering this long oration, the two Le 
 Noirs had made several essays to interrupt and contradict 
 her, but were effectually prevented by the people, whose 
 
892 
 
 CAP m CAPTIVITY. 
 
 sympathies were all with the speaker. Now, at Herbert 
 Greyson^s command, they released the culprits, who, 
 threatening loudly, took their departure. 
 
 Herbert then led Oapitola oat, and placed her upon her 
 own pony. Gyp, which, to her unbounded astonishment, 
 she found there in charge of Wool, who was also mounted 
 upon his own hack. 
 
 Herbert Greyson threw himself into the saddle of a 
 third horse, and the three took the road to Hurricane Hall. 
 
 "And now,^' said Oapitola, as Herbert rode up to her 
 side, " for Mercy's sake tell me, before I go crazy with con- 
 jecture, how it happened that you dropped down from the 
 sky at the very moment and on the very spot where you 
 were needed ? and where did you light upon Wool and the 
 horses 
 
 It is very simple when you come to understand it," 
 said Herbert, smiling. ' " In the first place, you know I 
 graduated at the last Commencement ?" 
 "Yes.'' 
 
 " Well, I have just received a lieutenant's commission in 
 a regiment that is ordered to join General Scott in 
 Mexico. " 
 
 " Oh, Herbert, that is news, and I don't know whether 
 to be in despair or in ecstacy !" said Oap, ready to laugh or 
 cry as a feather's weight might tip the scales in which she 
 balanced Herbert's new honors with his approaching perils. 
 
 '^If there's any doubt about it, I decidedly recommend 
 the latter emotion !" said Herbert, laughing. 
 
 " When do you go ?" inquired Cap. 
 
 " Our regiment embarks for Baltimore on the first of 
 next month. Meanwhile I got leave of absence to come and 
 spend a week with my friends at home." 
 
 " Oh, Herbert, I — I am in a quandary ! But you haven't 
 told me yet how you happened to meet with Wool and to 
 come here just in the nick of time." 
 
 " I am just going to do so. Well, you see, Oapitola, I 
 
CAP IX CAPTmTT. 
 
 393 
 
 came down in the stage to Tip Top, which I reached about 
 three oViOck. And there I found TVool in the hands .f :ho 
 Philistines,, snspected of being mad^ from the mani^er in 
 which be raved about losing sight of you. T\'ell, of C'jurse, 
 like a true knight, I delivered my lady's squire^ comforted 
 and re-assurod him, and made him mount his own horse 
 and take charge of yours. After which I mounted the 
 beast that I bad hired to convey me to iSurricane iEall, and 
 we set oS. thither. I confess that I was excessively ar.xious 
 on your account, for I could make nothing whatt-ver of 
 AVoob's wild story of your supposed metamorphosis. I 
 thought it best to make a circuit, and take the iHidden 
 House in our course, to make s-jme inquiries there as to 
 what had really hajDpened. I had got a little bewildered 
 between the dark night and the strange road, and seeing the 
 light in the church, I had just ridden up to incpaire my 
 way, when to my astonishment I saw yoti within, before 
 the al:ar, straggling in :he grasp of that ruffian. Ar/. - 
 kuo^ th:- re?t. And now let us ride on quickly, fur I ..^.ve 
 a strong presentiment that Major Warfield is suffering the 
 tortures of a lost soul through anxiety upon your account/'' 
 concluded Herbert Greyson. 
 
 Please, iMarse Herbert and iMiss Cap, don't you tell 
 ole marse nuffen 'tall 'bout my loosin' sight of you,'" pleaded 
 Wool. 
 
 AVe shall tell your old master all about it, "Wool, for I 
 would not have him miss the pleasure of hearing this 
 adventure upon any account ; but I promise to bear you 
 harmless through it," said Herbert, as they galloped rap- 
 idly covv-ards home. 
 
 They reached Hurricane Hall by eight o^clock, and in 
 good time for supper. They found Old Hurricane storm- 
 ing all over the house, and : : ng everybody off the prem- 
 ises, in his fury of anxiety i;vo:. Capitola^s account. But 
 when the party arrived, surprise at seeing them in the com- 
 
394 AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR AT MARAh's COTTAGE. 
 
 pany of Herbert Greyson, quite revolutionized his mood, 
 and forgetting to rage, he gave them all a hearty welcome. 
 
 And when after supper was over, and they were all 
 gathered around the comfortable fire-side, and Herbert ♦ 
 related the adventures and feats of Oapitola at the Hidden 
 House, and in the Forest Chapel, the old man grasped the 
 hand of his favorite, and with his stormy old eyes full of 
 rain, said : 
 
 You deserve to have been a man, Cap ! Indeed you 
 do, my girl !" 
 
 That was his highest style of praise. 
 Then Herbert told his own little story of getting his 
 commission and being ordered to Mexico. 
 
 God bless you, lad, and save you in the battle, and 
 bring you home with victory V* was Old Hurricane^s com- 
 ment. 
 
 Then seeing that the young people were quite worn out 
 with fatigue, and feeling not averse to his own comfortable 
 couch. Old Hurricane broke up the circle, and they all re- 
 tired, to rest. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 AN" UNEXPECTED VISITOR AT MARAH'S COTTAGE. 
 
 " * Friend, wilt thou give me shelter here 
 The stranger meekly saith ; 
 * My life is haunted ; evil men 
 Are following on my path.* " 
 
 Marah Rocke sat by her lonely fireside. 
 
 The cottage was not changed in any respect since the 
 day upon which we first of all found her there. There was 
 the same bright, little wood fire ; the same clean hearth. 
 
AN UNEXPECTED VIsriOE AT MAEAh's COTTAGE. S05 
 
 and the identical faded cari^et on the floor. There was the 
 dresser with its glistening crockerv-ware on the right, and 
 the shelves with Travoi-so's old school-hooks on the left of 
 the fire-place. 
 
 The widow herself had changed in nothing except that 
 her clean^ black dress was threadbare and rusty^ and her 
 patient face whiter and thiimer than before. 
 
 And now there was no eager restlessness : no frequent 
 listening and looking tov/ards the door. Alas I she could 
 not now expect to hear iier boy's light and springing step 
 and cheerful voice as he hurried home at eventide from his 
 daily work. Traverse was far away at St. Louis under- 
 going the cares and .trials of a friendless young physician 
 trying to get into practice. Six months had passed since 
 he took leave of her, and there was as yet no hope of his 
 returning even to pay a visit. 
 
 So Marah sat very still and sad, bending over her 
 needle-work, without ever turning her head in the direc- 
 tion of the door. True, he wrote to her every week. Xo 
 Wednesday ever passed without bringing her a letter writ- 
 ten in a strong, buoyant and encouraging strain. Still she 
 missed Traverse very sadly. It was dreary to rise up in 
 the empty house every morning ; dreary to sit down to her 
 solitary meals, and drearier still to go to bed in her lonely 
 room without having received her boy's kiss and heard his 
 cheerful good-night. And it was her custom every night 
 to read over Traversers last letter before retiring to bed. 
 
 It was getting on towards ten o'clock when she folded 
 up her work and put it away, and drew her boy's latest 
 epistle from her bosom to read. It ran as follows : 
 
 St. Louis^ Dec. 1, 184-. 
 
 My Dearest Mothee : — I am very glad to hear that 
 you continue in good health, and that you do not work too 
 hard, or miss me too sadly. It is the greatest comfort of 
 my life to hear good news of you, sweet mother. I count 
 
396 AN UNEXPECTED VISITOE AT MAEAH^S COTTAGE. 
 
 the days from one letter to anotlier, and read every last 
 letter over daily until I get a new one. You insist upon 
 my telling you how I am getting on, and whether I am out 
 of money. I am doing quite well, ma'am, and have some 
 funds left ! I have quite a considerable practice. It is 
 true that my professional services are in request only among 
 the very poor, who pay me with their thanks and good 
 wishes. But I am very glad to pay off a small part of the 
 great debt of gratitude I owe to the benevolent of this 
 world by doing aH that I can in my turn for the needy. 
 And even if I had never myself been the object of a good 
 man^s benevolence, I should still have desired to serve the 
 indigent; '^^for whoso giveth to the poor lendeth to the 
 Lord,^' and I like the security.'^ Therefore, sweet mother 
 of mine, be at ease, for I am getting on swimminglj^ — with 
 one exception. Still I do not hear from our Clara. Six 
 months have now passed, during which, despite of the 
 seeming silence, I have written to her every week ; but not 
 one letter or message have I received from her in return ! 
 And now you tell me also that you have not received a 
 single letter from her either. I know not what to think. 
 Anxiety upon her account is my one sole trouble. Not 
 that I wrong the dear girl by one instant's doubt of her 
 constancy — no ; my soul upon her truth ! if I could do that, 
 I should be most unworthy of her love. No, mother, you 
 and I know that Clara is true. But, ah, we do not know 
 to what sufferings she may be subjected by Le Noir, who I 
 firmly believe has intercepted all our letters. Mother, I 
 am about to ask a great, perhaps an unreasonable, favor of 
 you. It is to go down into the neighborhood of the Hid- 
 den House, and make inquiries, and try to find out Clara's 
 real condition. If it be possible, put yourself into com- 
 munication with her, and tell her that I judge her heart 
 by my own and have the firmest faith in her constancy, 
 even though I have written to her every week for six 
 months, without ever having received an answer. I feel 
 
AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR AT MARAh's COTTAGE. 397 
 
 that I [im putting you to expense and trouble, but my great 
 anxiety about Clara, which I am sure you share, must be 
 my excuse. I kiss your dear and honored hands : and re- 
 main ever. 
 
 Your loving son and faithful servant, 
 
 Teaveese Eocke. 
 
 I must try to go. It will be an awful expense, because 
 I know no one down there, and I shall have to board at the 
 tavern at Tip Top while I am making inquiries — for I dare 
 not approach the dwelling of Gabriel Le Noir V said Marah 
 Eocke, as she folded up her letter, and replaced it in her 
 bosom. 
 
 Just at that moment she heard the sound of wheels 
 approach, and a vehicle of some sort draw up to the gate, 
 and some one speaking without. 
 
 She went to the door, and listening, heard a girlish voice 
 say: 
 
 A dollar ? — Yes, certainly ; here it is. There you 
 may go now." 
 
 She recognized the voice, and with a cry of joy jerked 
 the door open just as the carriage rolled away. And the 
 next instant Clara Day was in her arms. 
 
 Oh,my darling ! my darling ! my darling ! is this really 
 you ? Eeally, really you, and no dream ?" cried Marah 
 Eocke, all in a flutter of excitement, as she strained Clara 
 to her bosom. 
 
 Yes, it is I, sweet friend ; come to stay with you a 
 long time, perhaps, said Clara, softly, returning her 
 caresses. 
 
 Oh, my lamb ! my lamb ! what a jojrful surprise ! I 
 do think I shall go crazy ! Where did you come from, my 
 pet ? Who came with you ? When did you start ? Did 
 Le Noir consent to your coming ? And how did it happen ? 
 — But, dear child, how worn and weary you look. You 
 must be very tired. Have you had supper ? Oh, my darl- 
 
398 AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR AT MARAH's COTTAGE. 
 
 ing ! come and lie down on this soft lounge, while I put 
 av^ay your things and get you some refreshment/' said Marah 
 Eocke, in a delirium of joy, as she took off Clara's hat and 
 sacque, and laid her down to rest on the lounge, which she 
 wheeled up near the fire. 
 
 Oh, my sweet, we have been so anxious about you ! 
 Traverse and myself. Traverse is still at St. Louis, love, 
 getting on slowly. He has written to you every week, and 
 so indeed have I, but we neither of us have so much as one 
 letter in reply. And yet neither of us ever doubted your 
 true heart, my child. We knew that the letters must have 
 been lost, miscarried, or intercepted," said Marah, as she 
 busied herself putting on the tea-kettle. 
 
 They must indeed, since my experience in regard to 
 letters exactly corresponds with yours. I have written 
 every week to both of you, yet never received one line in 
 reply from either,'' said Clara. 
 
 " We knew it : we said so. Oh, those Le Noirs ! those 
 Le Noirs ! But, my darling, you are perfectly exhausted, 
 and though I have asked you a half an hundred questions, 
 you shall not reply to one of them, nor talk a bit more until 
 you have rested and had refreshment. Here, my love, hero 
 is Traverse's last letter. It will amuse you to lie and read 
 it while I am getting tea," said Marah, taking the paper 
 from her bosom and handing it to Clara, and then placing 
 the stand with the light near the head of her couch, that 
 she might see to read it without rising. 
 
 And while Clara, well pleased, perused and smiled over 
 her lover's letter, Marah Rocke laid the cloth and spread a 
 delicate repast of tea, milk-toast and poached eggs, of which 
 she tenderly pressed her visitor to partake. 
 
 And when Clara was somewhat refreshed by food and 
 rest, she said : 
 
 Now, dear mamma, you will wish to hear how it 
 happens that I am with you to-night." 
 
 Not unless you feel quite rested, dear girl/* 
 
AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR AT MARAh's COTTAGE. 390 
 
 I am rested sufiBcientlj for thd purpose, besides I am 
 anxious to tell you. And oh, dear mamma ! I could just 
 now sit in your lap, and lay my head upon your kind, soft 
 bosom so willingly." 
 
 "Come, then Qara. Come, then my darling," said 
 Marah, tenderly; holding out her arms. 
 
 No, no, mamma, you are too little, it would be a sin," 
 said Clara, smiling; '^but I will sit by you and put my 
 hand in yours, and rest my head against your shoulder 
 while I tell you all about it." 
 
 " Come, then my darling," said Marah Rocke. 
 
 Clara took the offered seat, and when she was fixed to 
 her liking, she commenced and related to her friend a full 
 history of all that had occurred to her at the Hidden 
 House, from the moment that she had first crossed its 
 threshold to the hour in which, through the courage and 
 address of Capitola, she was delivered from imminent 
 peril. 
 
 " And now," said Clara, in conclusion, " I have come 
 hither in order to get Dr. Williams to make one more 
 appeal for me to the Orphans' Court. And when it is 
 proved what a traitor my guardian has been to his trust, I 
 have no doubt that the judge will appoint some one else in 
 his place, or at least see that my father's last wish in 
 regard to my residence is carried into effect." 
 
 *^ Heaven grant it, my child ! Heaven grant it ! Oh, 
 those Le Noirs ! those Le Noirs ! were there ever in the 
 world before such ruthless villains and accomplished hypo- 
 crites !" said Marah Rocke, clasping her hands in the 
 strength of her emotions. 
 
 A long time yet they talked together, and then they 
 retired to bed, and still talked until they fell asleep in each 
 othei-'s arms. 
 
 The next morning the widow arose early, gazed a little 
 while with delight upon the sleeping daughter of her 
 heart, pressed a kiss upon her cheek so softly as not to dis- 
 
400 AN UNEXPECTED YISITOE AT MARAh's COTTAGE. 
 
 turb her rest, and then, leaying her still in the deep, sweet 
 sleep of wearied youth, she went down stairs to get a nice 
 breakfast. 
 
 Luckily a farmer^s carfc was just passing the road before 
 the cottage on its way to market. 
 
 Marah took out her little purse from her pocket, hailed 
 the driver, and expended half her little store in.purchasirg 
 two young chickens, some eggs, and some dried peaches, 
 saying to herself : 
 
 '^Dear Clara always had a good appetite, and healthy 
 young human nature must live substantially, in spite of all 
 its little heart-aches/^ 
 
 While Marah was preparing the chicken for the grid- 
 iron, the door at the foot of the stairs opened, and Clara 
 came in, looking, after her night's rest, as fresh as a rose- 
 bud. 
 
 " What ! up with the sun, my darling V said Marah, 
 going to meet her. 
 
 Yes, mamma. Oh ! it is so good to be here with you 
 in this nice, quiet place, with no one to make me shudder. 
 But you must let me help you, mamma. See ! I will set 
 the table and make the toast/' 
 
 Oh, Miss Clara " 
 
 " Yes, I will ! I have been ill-used and made miser- 
 able, and now you must pet me, mamma, and let me have 
 my own way, and help you to cook our little meals and to 
 make the house tidy, and afterwards to work those button- 
 holes in the shirts you were spoiliug your gentle eyes over 
 last night. Oh ! if they will only let me stay here with you 
 and be at peace, we shall be very happy together, you and 
 I V said Clara, as she drew out the little table and laid the 
 cloth. 
 
 *'My dear child, may the Lord make you as happy as 
 your sweet affection would make me V said Marah. 
 
 '^■We can work for our living together,'' continued 
 Clara, as she gaily flitted about from the dresser to the 
 
AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR AT MAKAh's COTTAGE. 401 
 
 table, placing the cups and saucers and plates — '^you can 
 sew the seams and do the plain hemming, and I can work 
 the button-holes and stitch the bosoms, collars and wrist- 
 bands. And ' if the worst comes to the worst,' we can 
 hang out our little shingle before the cottage gate, inscribed 
 with : 
 
 MKS. EOOKE AND DAXJGHTEE, 
 
 SHIET MAKERS. 
 
 Orders executed with neatness and despatch. 
 
 We'd drive a thriving business, mamma, I assure 
 you,'* said Clara, as she sat down on a low stool at the 
 hearth ai d began to toast the bread. 
 
 I trust in Heaven that it will never come to that with 
 you, my dear.'^ 
 
 Why ? why, mamma ? why should I not taste of toil 
 and care as well as others a thousand times better than my- 
 self ? Why should not I work as well as you and Traverse, 
 mamma ? I stand upon the broad platform of human 
 rights, and I say I have just as good a right to work as 
 others," said Clara, with a pretty assumption of obstinacy, 
 as she placed the plate of toast upon the board. 
 
 Doubtless, dear Clara, you m.s>j pla// work just as 
 much as you please ; but heaven forbid you should ever 
 have to worJc at work !" replied Mrs. Rocke, as she placed 
 the coffee-pot and the dish of broiled chicken on the table. 
 
 '^'^ Why, mamma ? I do not think that is a good praj^er 
 at all. That is a wicked, proud prayer, Mrs. Marah Rocke. 
 Why shoulcln^t your daughter really toil as well as other 
 people's daughters, I'd like to be informed ?" said Clara, 
 mockingly, as they both took their seats at the table. 
 
 '^1 think, dear Clara, that you must have contracted 
 some of your eccentric little friend Capitola's ways, from 
 
402 AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR AT MARAh's COTTAGE. 
 
 putting on her habit. I never before saw you in such gay 
 spirits," said Mrs. Rocke, as she poured out the coffee. . 
 
 " Oh, mamma, it is but the glad rebound of the free 
 bird ! I am so glad to have escaped from that dark prison 
 of the Hidden House, and to be here with you ! But tell 
 me, mamma, is my old home occupied 
 
 No, my dear ; no tenant has been found for it. The 
 property is in the hands of an agent to let ; but the house 
 remains quite vacant and deserted.'' 
 Why is that asked Clara. 
 
 " Why, my love, for the strangest reason. The foolish 
 country people say that since the doctor's death, the place 
 has been haunted." 
 
 '^Haunted !" 
 
 " Yes, my dear, so the foolish people say, and they get 
 wiser ones to believe them." 
 
 What exactly do they say ? I hope— I hope they do 
 not trifle with my dear father's honored name and mem- 
 ory ?" 
 
 Oh, no, my darling — no ; but they say that although 
 the house is quite empty and deserted by the living, strange 
 sights and sounds are heard and seen by passers-by at 
 night. Lights appear at the upper windows from which 
 pale faces look out." 
 
 " How very strange !" said Clara. 
 
 ^'Yes, my dear, and these stories have gained such 
 credence that no one can be found to take the house." 
 
 So much the better, dear mamma, for if the new 
 judge of the Orphans' Court should give a decision in our 
 favor, as he must, when he hears the evidence, old and 
 new, you and I can move right into it, and need not then 
 enter the shirtmaking line of business." 
 
 ^' Heaven grant it, my dear. But now, Clara, my love, 
 we must lose no time in seeing Doctor Williams, lest your 
 guardian should pursue you here and give you fresh trou- 
 ble." 
 
AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR AT MARAh's COTTAGE. 403 
 
 Clara assented to tliis^ and they immediately arose from 
 the table, cleared away the service, put the room in order, 
 and went up stairs to put on their bonnets — Mrs. Eocke 
 lending Clara her own best bonnet and shawl. When they 
 were quite ready, they locked up the house and set out for 
 the town. 
 
 It was a bright, frosty, invigorating winter's morning, 
 and the two friends walked rapidly until they reached 
 Doctor Williams^ house. 
 
 The kind old man was at home, and was much surprised 
 and pleased to see his visitors. He invited them into his 
 parlor, and when he had heard their story, he said : 
 
 " This is a much more serious affair than the other. 
 We must employ counsel. Witnesses must be brought from 
 the neighborhood of the Hidden House. You are aware 
 that the late judge of the Orphans'' Court has been appointed 
 to a high office under the government at Washington. The 
 man that has his place is a person of sound integrity who 
 will do his duty. It remains only for us to prove the jus- 
 tice of our cause to hii- satisfaction, and all will be well.'^ 
 
 Oh, I trust in Heaven that it will be,^^ said Marah, 
 fervently. 
 
 ^'You two must stay in my house until the affair is 
 decided. Youmiglit possibly be safe from real injury ; but 
 you could not be free from molestation in your unprotected 
 condition at the cottage,'" said Doctor Williams. 
 
 Clara warmly expressed her thanks. 
 You had better go home now and pack up what you 
 wish to bring, and put out the fire and close up the house, 
 and come here immediately. 
 
 In the meantime I will see your dear father's solicitor 
 and be ready with my report by the time you get back,'' 
 said Doctor Williams, promptly taking his hat to go. 
 
 Mrs. Eocke and Clara set out for the cottage which they 
 soon reached. 
 
 Throwing off her bonnet and shawl, Clara said : 
 
40 J: AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR AT MAKAh's COTTAGE. 
 
 '^Now, mamma, the very first thing I shall do will be 
 to write to Traverse, so that we can send the letter by to- 
 day^s mail, and set his mind at rest. I shall simply tell 
 him that our mutual letters have failed to reach their des- 
 tination, but that I am now on a visit to you, and that 
 while I remain here nothing can interrupt our correspond- 
 ence. I shall not speak of the coming suit, until we shall 
 see how it will end." 
 
 Mrs. Rocke approved this plan, and placed writing 
 materials on the table. And while the matron employed 
 herself in closing up the rooms, packing up what was need- 
 ful to take with them to the doctor^s, and putting out the 
 fire, Clara wrote and sealed her letter. They then put on 
 their bonnets, locked up the house, and set out. They 
 called at the post-ofiBce just in time to mail their letter, 
 and they reached the doctor^s house just as he himself 
 walked up to the door, accompanied by the lawyer. The 
 latter greeted the daughter of his old client, and her friend, 
 and they all went into the house together. 
 
 In the doctor's study the whole subject of Clara's flight 
 and its occasion was talked over, and the lawyer agreed to 
 commence proceedings immediately. 
 
CAP EESTS ON HER LAURELS. 
 
 405 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 cap "bests on" her laurels'' and "spoils for a 
 
 fight/' 
 
 " 'Tis hardly in a body's power, 
 To keep at times frae being sour, 
 To see how things are shared ; 
 How best o' chiels are whiles in want, 
 While coofs and countless thousands rant, 
 And ken na how to wear't." — Burns. 
 
 Leaving Clara Day and Marah Rocke in a home of 
 safety, plenty and kindness, in the old doctor's house, we 
 must run down to Hurricane Hall, to see what mischief 
 Cap has been getting into since we left her ! In truth, 
 none. Cap had had such a surfeit of adventures, that she 
 was fain to lie by and rest upon her laurels. Besides, there 
 seemed just now nothing to do — no tyrants to take down, 
 no robbers to capture, no distressed damsels to deliver, and 
 Cap was again in danger of "spoiling for a fight." And 
 then Herbert Greyson was at the Hall—Herbert Greyson 
 whom she vowed always did make a Miss ISTancy of her! And 
 so Cap had to content herself for a w^ek with quiet morn- 
 ings of needle-work at her work-stand, with Herbert to read 
 to or talk with her ; sober afternoon rides, attended by 
 Herbert and Old Hurricane ; and hum-drum evenings at 
 the chessboard, with the same Herbert, while Major War- 
 field dozed in a great " sleepy hollow " of an arm-chair. 
 
 One afternoon when they were out riding through the 
 woods beyond the Demon's Eun, a sheriff's officer rode up, 
 and bowing to the party, presented a suspicious-looking 
 document to Capitola, and a similar one to Herbert Grey- 
 Bon. And while Old Hurricane stared his eyes half out, 
 
406 
 
 CAP RESTS ON HER LAURELS. 
 
 the parties most interested opened the papers, which they 
 found to be rather pressing invitations to be present at a 
 certain solemnity at Staunton. In a word, they Avere sub- 
 poenaed to give testimony in the case of Williams vs. Le 
 !N"oir. 
 
 Here's a diabolical dilemma V' said old Hurricane to 
 himself, as soon as he learned the purport of these docu- 
 ments ; here I shall have to bring Cap into court face to 
 face with ^that demon to bear witness against him. Sup- 
 pose, losing one ward he should lay claim to another ! Ah, 
 but he can't without foully criminating himself. Well, 
 well, we shall see V 
 
 While Old Hurricane was cogitating. Cap was exulting. 
 
 ''Oh, wo7i't I tell all I know! Yes, and more too 
 she exclaimed, in triumph. 
 
 '' ' More too !' oh ! hoity-toity ! never say more too V' 
 said Herbert, laughing. 
 
 ''I will, for I'll tell all I suspect \" ^said Cap galloping 
 on ahead, in her eagerness to get home and pack up for her 
 journey. 
 
 The next day Old Hurricane, Herbert Greyson, Capi- 
 tol a, Pitapat and Wool went by stage to Staunton. They 
 put up at the Planters' and Farmers' Hotel, whence Her- 
 bert Greyson and Capitola soon sallied forth to see Clara 
 and Mrs. Rocke. They soon found the doctor's house, and 
 were ushered into the parlor in the presence of their 
 friends. 
 
 The meeting between Capitola and Clara and between 
 Mrs. Rocke and Herbert was very cordial. And then 
 Herbert introduced Capitola to Mrs. Rocke, and Cap pre- 
 sented Herbert to Clara. And they all entered into con- 
 versation upon the subject of the coming lawsuit, and the 
 circumstances that led to it. And Clara and Capitola 
 related to each other all that had happened to each after 
 their exchanging clothes and parting. And when they 
 had laughed over their mutual adventures and misadven- 
 
CAP REST3 ON HER LAOIELS. 
 
 407 
 
 tuTos, Herbert and Capitola took leave and returned to 
 tlieir hotel. 
 
 Herbert Greyson ^as the most serious of the whole 
 family. Upon reaching the hotel he went to his own 
 room, and fell into deep reflection. And this was the 
 course of his thoughts : 
 
 Ira AVarfield and ^larah Eocke are here in the same 
 town ! brought hither upon the same errand I to-morrow to 
 meet in the same court-room I And yet not either of them 
 suspects the presence of the other. Mrs. Eocke does not 
 know that in Capitola's nncle she will behold Major "War- 
 field ! He does not foresee that in Clara's matronly friend 
 he will behold Marah Eocke. And Le Xoir. the canse of 
 all their misery, will be present also. TThat will be the 
 effect of this unexpected meeting ? Ought I not to warn 
 one or the other ? — Let me think — Xo ! for were I to warn 
 Major Warfield he would abseut himself. Should I drop a 
 hint to Marah she would shrink from the meeting. Xo, I 
 will leave it all to Providence ; perhaps the sight of her 
 sweet, pale face and soft appealing eyes, so full of constancy 
 and truth, may touch that stern old heart. Heaven grant 
 it may V concluded Herbert Greyson. 
 
 The next day the suit came on. 
 
 At an early hour Dr. Williams appeared, having in 
 charge Clara Day, who was attended by her friend Mrs. 
 Eocke. They were accommodated with seats immediately 
 in front of the judge. 
 
 Very soon afterwards Major Warfield, Herbert Greyson 
 and Capitola entered, and took their places on the wit- 
 ness's bench, at the right side of the court-room. 
 
 Herbert watched Old Hurricane, whose eyes were spell- 
 bound to the bench where sat Mrs. Eocke and Clara. Both 
 were dressed in deep mourning, with their veils down and 
 their faces towards the judge. But Herbert dreaded every 
 instant that Marah Eocke should turn her head and meet 
 that fixed, wistful look of Old Htirricane. And he wondered 
 
408 
 
 CAP ra^sTS ON her laurels. 
 
 what strange instinct it could be that rivetted the old man's 
 regards to that unrecognized woman. 
 
 At last, to Herbert's great uneasiness. Major Warfield 
 turned and commenced questioning him : 
 Who is that woman in mourning ?" 
 ^' Hem — m — that one with the flaxen curls under her 
 bonnet is Miss Day." 
 
 I don't mean the girl, I mean the woman sitting by 
 her ?" 
 
 That is — ^hem — hem ! — that is Doctor Williams sit- 
 ting 
 
 Old Hurricane turned abruptly around and favored his 
 nephew with a severe, scrutinizing gaze — demanding : 
 
 ^' Herbert, have you been drinking so early in the morn- 
 ing ? — Demmy, sir ! this is not the season for mint juleps 
 before breakfast ! Is that great, stout, round-bodied, red- 
 faced old Doctor Williams a little woman ? — I see him sit- 
 ting on the right of Miss Day. I didn't refer to him. I 
 referred to that still, quiet little woman sitting on her left, 
 who has never stirred hand or foot since she sat down there. 
 Who is she ?" 
 
 ^' That woman ? — oh ! — she ? — yes — ah, let me see — she 
 is a — Miss Day's companion !" faltered Herbert. 
 
 " To the demon with you ! who does not see that ? — 
 But who is she ? What is her name ?" abruptly demanded 
 Old Hurricane. 
 
 Her name is a — a — Did you ever see her before, sir ?'^ 
 I don't know. That is what I am trying to remember. 
 But, sir, will you answer my question ?" 
 
 " You seem very much interested in her." 
 
 ^' You seem very much determined not to let me know 
 who she is ! Hang it, sir ! will you or will you not, tell me 
 that woman's name ?" 
 
 " Certainly," said Herbert ; her name is " He 
 
 was about to say Marah Rocke, but moral indignation over- 
 powered him, and he paused. 
 
CAP EESTS ON HER LAURELS. 
 
 409 
 
 Well, well, her name is what impatiently demanded 
 Old Hurricane. 
 
 Mrs. Warfield answered Herbert doggedly. 
 
 And jnst at that unfortunate moment Marah turned her 
 pale face and beseeching eyes around and met the full gaze 
 of her husband ! 
 
 In an instant her face blanched to marble and her head 
 sank upon the railing before her bench. Old Hurricane 
 was too dark to grow pale, but his bronzed cheek turned as 
 gray as his hair, which fairly lifted itself on his head. 
 Grasping his walking stick with both his hands, he tottered 
 to his feet, and muttering : 
 
 ril murder you for this, Herbert V he strode out of 
 the court-room. 
 
 Marah^s head rested for about a minute on the railing 
 before her, and when she lifted it again, her face was as 
 calm and patient as before. 
 
 This little incident had passed without attracting atten- 
 tion from any one except Oapitola, who, sitting on the other 
 side of Herbert Greyson, had heard the little passage of 
 words between him and her uncle, and had seen the latter 
 start up and go out, and who now turning to her companion, 
 inquired : 
 
 " What is the meaning of all this, Herbert V 
 
 It means — Satan ! And noAV attend to what is going on. 
 Mr. Sauter has stated the case, and now Stringfellow, the 
 attorney for the other side, is Just telling the judge that he 
 stands there in the place of his client, Lieutenant Colonel 
 Le Noir, who, being ordered to join General Taylor in 
 Mexico, is upon the eye of setting out and cannot be here 
 in person. 
 
 And is that true ? Won't he be here 
 
 It seems not. I think he is ashamed to appear after 
 what has happened, and just takes adyantage of a fair excuse 
 to absent himself. 
 
 And is he really going to Mexico ?^ 
 
410 
 
 CAP BESTS ON HER LAURELS. 
 
 Oh. J yes. I saw it officially announced in this morn- 
 ing^s papers. And, by-the-by, I am very much afraid he is 
 to take command of our regiment and be my superior 
 officer \" 
 
 " Oh, Herbert, I hope and pray not ! I think there is 
 wickedness enough packed up in that man's body to sink a 
 squadron or lose an army V 
 
 " Well, Cap, such things will happen. Attention ! 
 There's Sauter ready to call his witnesses." And, in truth, 
 the next moment Capitola Black was called to the stand. 
 
 Cap took her place and gave her evidence con amove, and 
 with such vim and such expressions of indignation, that 
 Stringfellow reminded her she was there to give testimony, 
 and not to plead the cause. 
 
 Cap rejoined that she was perfectly willing to do loth ! 
 And so she continued not only to tell the facts, but to express 
 her opinions as to the motives of Le Noir, and give her Judg- 
 ment us to what should be the decision of the court. 
 
 Stringfellow, the attorney for Colonel Le !N"oir, evidently 
 thought that in this rash, reckless, spirited witness, he had 
 a fine subject for sarcastic cross-examination ! But he 
 reckoned without his host." He did not know Cap ! He 
 too, '^caught a Tartar." And before the cross-examination 
 was concluded, Capitola s apt and cutting replies had over- 
 whelmed him with ridicule and confusion, and done more 
 for the cause of her friend than all her partisans put to- 
 gether ! 
 
 Other witnesses were called to corroborate the testimony 
 of Capitola, and still others were examined to prove the last 
 expressed wishes of the late "William Day, in regard to the 
 disposal of his daughter's person during the period of her 
 minority. 
 
 There was no effective rebutting evidence, and after 
 some hard arguing by the attorneys on both sides, the case 
 was closed, and the judge deferred his decision until the 
 third day thereafter. 
 
CAP RESTS ON HER LAURELS. 
 
 411 
 
 The parties then left the coui't and returned to their 
 sevOTal lodgings. 
 
 Old Hurricane gave no one a ciyil word that day. 
 Wool was an atrocious villain, an incendiary scoundrel, a 
 cut-throat, and a black demon. Cap was a beggar, a vag- 
 abond, and a vixen. Herbert Greyson was another beggar, 
 besides being a knave, a fop and an impudent puppy. The 
 inn-keeper was a swindler, the waiters thieves, the whole 
 world was going to ruin, where it well deserved to go, and 
 all mankind to the demon — as he hoped and trusted they 
 would I 
 
 And all this tornado of passion and invective arose just 
 because he had unexpectedly met in the court-room the 
 patient face and beseeching eyes of a woman, married and 
 forsaken, loved and lost, long ago ! 
 
 Was it strange that Herbert, who had so resented his 
 treatment of Marah Rocke, should bear all his fury, injus- 
 tice and abuse of himself and others with such compas- 
 sionate forbearance ? But he not only forbore to resent 
 his own affronts, but also besought Capitola to have 
 patience with the old man's temper, and apologized to the 
 host, by saying that Major Warfield had been very severely 
 tried that day, and when calmer, would be the first to 
 regret the violence of his own words. 
 
 Marah Rocke returned with Clara to the old doctor's 
 house. She was more patient, silent and quiet than before. 
 Her face was a little paler, her eyes softer, and her tones 
 lower — that was the only visible effect of the morning's 
 unexpected rencontre. 
 
 The next day but one all the parties concerned assem- 
 bled at the court-house to hear the decision of the judge. 
 It was given as had been anticipated in the favor of Clara 
 Day, who was permitted in accordance with her father's 
 approved wishes, to reside in her patrimonial home, under 
 the care of Mrs. Marah Rocke. Colonel Le Noir was to 
 remain trustee of the property, with directions from the 
 
412 
 
 CAP RESTS ON HER LAURELS. 
 
 court immediately to pay the legacies left by the late Doc- 
 tor Day to Marah Eocke and Traverse Eocke, and also to 
 pay to Clara Day, in quarterly iiistalments, from the rev- 
 enue of her property, an annual sum of money, sufficient 
 for her support. 
 
 This decision filled the hearts of Clara and her friends 
 with joy. Forgetting time and place, she threw herself 
 into the arms of Marah Eocke and wept with delight. All 
 concerned in the trial then sought their lodgings. 
 
 Clara and Mrs. Eocke returned to the cottage to make 
 i:>reparations for removing to Willow Heights. 
 
 Doctor Williams went to the agent of the property to 
 require him to give up the keys, which he did without hes- 
 itation. 
 
 Old Hurricane and his party packed up, to be ready for 
 the stage to take them to Tip Top the next day. 
 
 But that night a series of mysterious events were said 
 to have taken place at the deserted house at Willow 
 Heights, that filled the whole community with superstitious 
 wonder. It was reported by numbers of gardeners and 
 farmers, who passed that road on their way to early 
 market, that a perfect witches' sabbath had been held in 
 that empty house all night ! Tliat lights had appeared 
 fl.itting from room to room ; that strange, wierd faces had 
 looked out from the windows ; and wild screams had 
 pierced the air ! 
 
 The next day when this report reached the ears of Clara, 
 and she was asked by Doctor Williams whether she would 
 not be afraid to live there, she laughed gaily and bade him 
 try her. 
 
 Cap who had come over to take leave of Clara, joined 
 her in her merriment, declared that she, for her part, doted 
 on ghosts and that after Herbert Greyson's departure, she 
 should come and visit Clara and help her to entertain the 
 spectres. 
 
BLACK DONALD. 
 
 413 
 
 Clara replied that she should hold her to her promise. 
 And so the friends kissed and separated. 
 
 That same day saw several removals. 
 
 Clara and Mrs. Rocke took up their abode at Willow 
 Heights, and seized an hour even of that busy time, to 
 write to Traverse and apprise him of their good fortune. 
 
 Old Hurricane and his party set out for their home, 
 where they arrived before nightfall. 
 
 And the next day but one Herbert Greyson took leave 
 of his friends and departed to join his company on their 
 road to glory. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 BLACK DONALD. 
 
 " Feared, shunned, behed ere youth had lost her force, 
 
 He hated men too much to feel remorse. 
 And thought the vice of wrath a sacred call, 
 To pay the injuries of some on all. 
 
 " There was a laughing devil in his sneer, 
 That caused emotions both of rage and fear ; 
 And where his frown of hatred darkly fell, 
 Hope, withering, fled, and mercy sighed farewell I" 
 
 — Byron. 
 
 Hekbeet Greyson had been correct in his conjecture 
 concerning the cause of Colonel Le Noir's conduct in absent- 
 ing himself from the trial, or appearing there only in the 
 person of his attorney. A proud, vain, conceited man, full 
 of Joseph Surfaceisms, he could better have borne to be 
 arraigned upon the charge of murder than to face the accusa- 
 tion of baseness that was about to be proved wpon him. Be- 
 ing reasonably certain as to what was likely to be the decision 
 
414 
 
 BLACK DONALD. 
 
 of the Orphans^ Conrfc, he was not disappointed in hearing 
 that judgment had been rendered in favor of his ward and 
 her friends. His one great disappointment had been upon 
 discovering the flight of Clara. For when he had ascertained 
 that she had fled, he knew that all was lost — and lost through 
 Oapitola — the hated girl for whose destruction he had now 
 another and a stronger motive — revenge. 
 
 In this mood of mind, three days before his departure 
 to join his regiment, he sought the retreat of the outlaw. 
 He chose an early hour of the evening as that in which he 
 should be most likely to find Black Donald. 
 
 It was about eight o^clock when he wrapped his large 
 cloak around his tall figure, pulled his hat low over his 
 sinister brows, and set out to walk alone to the secret cavern 
 in the side of the Demon's Punch Bowl. 
 
 The night was dark and the path dangerous ; but his 
 directions had been careful, so that when he reached the 
 brinkof that awful abyss, he knew precisely where to begin 
 his descent with the least danger of being percipitated to 
 the bottom. 
 
 And by taking a strong hold upon the stunted saplings 
 of pine and cedar that grew down through the clefts of the 
 ravine, and placing his feet firmly upon the points of pro- 
 jecting rocks, he contrived to descend the inside of that 
 horrible abysm, which from the top seemed to be fraught 
 with certain death to any one daring enough to make the 
 attempt. 
 
 "When about half way down the precipice he reached the 
 clump of cedar bushes growing in the deep cleft, and con- 
 cealing the liole that formed the entrance to the cavern. 
 
 Here he paused, and looking through the entrance into 
 a dark and apparently fathomless cavern, he gave the 
 peculiar signal whistle, which was immediately answered 
 from within by the well-ki]own voice of the outlaw chief, 
 saying : 
 
 All right, my Colonel. Give us your hand. Be care- 
 
BLACK DONALD. 
 
 415 
 
 ful now ; the floor of this cayern is several feet below the 
 opening.'"' 
 
 Le Xoir extended his hand into the darkness within and 
 soon felt it grasped by that of Black Donald, who, mutter- 
 ing : ^'Slowly, slowly,, my Colonel I'^ succeeded in guiding 
 him down the utter darkness of the subterranean descent 
 until they stood upon the firm bottom of the cavern. 
 
 They were still in the midst of a blackness that might 
 be felt, except that from a small opening in the side of the 
 rock a light gleamed. Towards this second opening Black 
 Donald conducted his patron. 
 
 And stooping and ^^assing before him, led him into an 
 inner cavern, well lighted and rudely fitted up. Upon a 
 large natural platform of rock, occupying the centre of the 
 space, were some dozen bottles of brandy or whiskey, seve- 
 ral loaves of bread and some dried venison. Around this 
 rude table, seated upon fragments of rock, lugged thither 
 for the purpose, were some eight or ten men of the band, 
 in various stages of intoxication. Along the walls were 
 piles of bearskins, some of which served as couches for sis 
 or seven men, who had thrown themselves down upon them 
 in a state of exhaustion or drunken stupor. 
 
 ^^Come, boys, we have not a boundless choice of apart- 
 ments here, and I want to talk to my Colonel. Suppose 
 yon take your liquor and bread and meat into the outer 
 cavern, and give us the use of this one for an hour,'^ said 
 the outlaw. 
 
 The men sullenly obeyed and began to gather up the 
 viands. Demon Dick seized one of the lights to go after 
 them. 
 
 Put down the glim. Satan singe your skin for you ! 
 Do you want to bring a hue and cry upon us ? — Don^t you 
 know a light in the outer cavern can be seen from the out- 
 side ?" roared Black Donald. 
 
 Dick sulkily set down the candle and followed his com- 
 rades. 
 
416 
 
 BLACK DONALD. 
 
 What are you glummering about ? confound you ! 
 You can see to eat and drink well enough and find your 
 way to your mouth in the dark, you brute \" thundered the 
 captain. 
 
 But as there was no answer to this, and the men had 
 •retreated and left their cliief with his visitor alone. Black 
 Donald turned to Colonel Le Noir, and said : 
 
 ^'Well, my patron, what great matter is it that has 
 caused you to leave the company of fair Clara Day for our 
 grim society ?" 
 
 Ah, then it a^opears you are not aware that Clara Day 
 has fled from us ! has made a successful appeal to the 
 Orphans* Court, and been taken out of our hands ?" angrily 
 replied Colonel Le Noir. 
 
 Whe-ew ! My Colonel, I think I could have managed 
 that matter better. I think if I had had that girl in my 
 power as you had, she should not have escaped me !" 
 
 Bah ! bah ! bah ! stop boasting since it was through 
 your neglect — yours ! yours ! — that I lost this girl." 
 
 Mine!" exclaimed Black Donald, in astonishment. 
 
 Aye, yours ! for if you had done your duty, performed 
 your engagement, kept your word, and delivered me from 
 this fatal Capitola, I had not lost my ward, nor my son his 
 wealthy bride V exclaimed Le Noir, angrily. 
 
 Capitola ! Capitola again ! What on earth had she to 
 do with the loss of Clara Day V cried Black Donald in 
 wonder. 
 
 Everything to do with it, sir ! By a cunning artifice 
 she delivered Clara from our power ; actually set her free 
 and covered her flight until she was in security 
 
 That girl again ! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha ! Ho-ho-ho-ho- 
 ho \" laughed and roared Black Donald, slapping his 
 knees. 
 
 Le Noir ground and gnashed his teeth in rage, mutter- 
 ing hoarsely : 
 
 *^Yes ! you may laugh, confound you, since it is 
 
BLACK DONALD. 
 
 granted those who win to do so ! you may laugh ! for you 
 have done me out of five thousand dollars^ and what on 
 earth have 3^011 performed to earn it T' 
 
 Come^ come, my Colonel ! fair and easy ! I don^t 
 know which is vulgarest, to betray loss of temper or love of 
 money, and you are doing both ! However, it is between 
 friends ! But how the demon did that girl, that capital 
 Capitola, get Clara off from right under your eyes 
 
 " By changing clothes with her ! confound 3^ou ! I will 
 tell you all about it,^^ replied Lo Noir, who thereupon 
 commenced and related the whole stratagem by which 
 Capitola freed Clara, including the manner in which she 
 accompanied them to the church and revealed herself at 
 the altar. 
 
 Black Donald threw himself back and roared with 
 laughter, vigorously slapping his knees and crying : 
 
 That girl ! that capital Capitola ! I would not sell 
 my prospect of possessing her for double your bribe \" 
 
 '^Your ^ prospect!^ Your prospect is about as decep- 
 tive as a fata morgana ! What have you been doing, I 
 ask you again, towards realizing this prospect, and earning 
 the money you have already received 
 
 Fair and easy, my Colonel I Don't let temper get the 
 better of justice ! What have I been doing towards earn- 
 ing the money you have already paid me ! — In the first 
 place, I lost my time and risked my liberty watching 
 around Hurricane Hall. Then, when I had identiSed the 
 girl, and the room she slept in, by seeing her. at her win- 
 dow, I put three of my best men in jeopardy to capture 
 her ! Then, when she, the witch ! had captured them, I 
 sacrificed all my good looks, transmogrifying myself into a 
 frightful old field preacher, and went to the camp-meeting 
 to watch, among other things, for an opportunity of carry- 
 ing her off ! The sorceress ! — she gave me no such oppor- 
 tunity ! I succeeded in nothing except in fooling the wise- 
 acres and getting admitted to the prison of mj comrades, 
 
BLACK DONALD. 
 
 wliom I furnislied with instruinents by which they made 
 their escape. Since that time we have had to lie low — yes, 
 literally — to lie loic — to keep out of sight, to burrow under 
 ground ! in a word, to live in this cavern V 
 
 '''And since which you have abandoned all intention t>f 
 getting the girl and earning the five thousand dollars/^ 
 sneered Le Noir. 
 
 "Earning the remaining five thousand, you mean, 
 Colonel ! The first five thousand I consider I have already 
 earned. It was the last five thousand that I was to get 
 when the girl should be disposed of." 
 
 ''Well r 
 
 " Well, I have not given up, either the intention of 
 earning the money, or the hope of getting the girl ; in 
 truth, I had rather lose the money than the girl. I have 
 been on the watch almost continually ; but thougli I 
 suppose she rides out frequently, I have not yet happened 
 to hit upon her in any of her excursions. At last, liow- 
 ever, I have fixed upon a plan for getting the witch into 
 my power. I shall trust the execution of that plan to no 
 one but myself/ But I must have time." 
 
 " Time ! perdition, sir ! delay in this matter is fraught 
 with danger ! Listen, sir ! How Warfield got possession 
 of this girl, or the knowledge of her history I do not know, 
 except that it was through the agency of that accursed iiag, 
 Nancy Grewell ! — but that he has her, and that he knows 
 all about her, is but too certain ! That he has not at 
 present legal proof enough to establish her identity and 
 her rights before a court of justice, I infer from the fact 
 of his continuing inactive in the matter. But who can 
 foresee how soon he may obtain all the proof that is neces- 
 sary to establish Capitola's claims, and wrest the whole of 
 this property from me ? ho can tell whether he is not 
 now secretly engaged in seeking and collecting such proof ! 
 — therefore, I repeat, that the girl must immediately be 
 
BLACK DONALD. 
 
 419 
 
 got rid of — Donald ! rid me of that creature and the day 
 that you prove to me her death, I will double your fee !" 
 
 Agreed, my Colonel rgreed. I have no objection to your 
 doubling, or even quadrUj^ling my fee ! you shall find nic in 
 that as in all other matters, perfectly amenable to reason. 
 Only I must have time. Haste would rnin us. I repeat 
 that I have a plan by which I am certain to get the girl 
 into my possession. A plan, the execution of which I will 
 intrust to no other hands but my own. But I conclude as 
 I began — I must have time V 
 
 And how much time exclaimed Le ISToir, again los- 
 ing his patience. 
 
 '^Easy my patron. That I cannot tell you. It is im- 
 prudent to make promises, especially to you, who will take 
 nothing into consideration, when they cannot be kept,^^ 
 replied Black Donald, coolly. 
 
 *^ But, sir, clo you not know that I am ordered to Mexico, 
 and must leave within three days ! — I would see the end of 
 this before I go angrily exclaimed Le ISToir. 
 
 " Softly, softly, my child, the Colonel ! — ' Slow and 
 sure V ' Fair and easy goes far in a day V " 
 
 In a word, will you do this business for me, and do it 
 promptly 
 
 " Surely, surely, my patron ! But I insist upon time !" 
 But I go to Mexico in three days \" 
 All honor go with 3'ou my Colonel ! "Who would keep 
 his friend from the path of glory 
 
 '^Pedition, sir, 3'OU trifle with me V 
 
 "Perdition, certainly. Colonel. There I perfectly 
 agree with you ; but the rest of your sentence is v/rong ; I 
 don^t trifle with you V 
 
 " What in the fiend^s name do 5^ou mean 
 
 "Nothing in the name of any absent friend of ours ! I 
 mean simply that you may go to — Mexico.'"' 
 
 " And — my business " 
 
 " Can be done Just as well, perhaps better, without 
 
420 
 
 BLACK DONALD. 
 
 you ! Kecollect, if you please^ my Colonel, that when you 
 -were absent with Harrison in the West, your great business 
 was done here without you / And done better for that very 
 reason ! No one ever suspected your agency in that mat- 
 ter. The person most benefited by the death of Eugene Le 
 Noir was far enough from the scene of his murder !" 
 
 Hush! Perdition seize you ! Why do you speak of 
 things so long past \" exclaimed Le ]N"oir, growing white to 
 his very lips. 
 
 To jog your worship^s memory, and suggest that your 
 honor is the last man who ought to complain of this delay, 
 since it will be very Avell for you to be in a distant land, 
 serving your country, at the time that your brother's heir- 
 ess, whose property you illegally hold, is got out of your 
 way.'' 
 
 There is something in that,'' mused Le Noir. 
 
 " There is all in that !" 
 
 ''You have a good brain, Donald !" 
 
 "What did I tell you ? — I ought to have been in the 
 cabinet, and mean to be too. But Colonel, as I mean to 
 conclude my part of the engagement, I should like, for fear 
 of accidents, that you conclude yours — and settle with me 
 before you go." 
 
 What do you mean ?" 
 
 " That you should fork over to me the remaining five 
 thousand." 
 
 '' ril see you at the demon first," passionately exclaimed 
 Le Noir. 
 
 ''No you won't; for in that case you'd have to make 
 way with the girl, yourself ; or see Old Hurricane make 
 way with all your fortune." 
 
 " Wretch, that you are I" 
 
 " Come, come. Colonel, don't let's quarrel. The King- 
 dom of Satan divided against itself cannot stand. Do not 
 let us lose time by falling out. /will get rid of the girl ! 
 You, before you go, must hand over the tin, lest you should 
 
GLORY ! 
 
 421 
 
 fall in battle and your heirs dispute the debt. Shell out, 
 my Colonel. Shell out, and never fear. Capitok shall be 
 a wife and Black Donald a widower, before many weeks 
 shall pass.'' 
 
 ''^ril do it. I have no time for disputation, as you 
 know ; and you profit by the knowledge. I'll do it, though 
 under protest,'' muttered Le Xoir, grinding his teeth, 
 
 '^'That's my brave and generous patron," said Black 
 Donald, as he arose to attend Le Noir from the cavern. 
 
 That's my magnificent Colonel of cavalry. The man 
 who runs such risks for you, should be very handsomely 
 remunerated.'^ 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 GLOEY I 
 
 " What Alexander sighed for, 
 
 What Caesar's soul possessed, 
 What heroes, saints have died for, 
 Glory !" 
 
 Withies' three days after this settlement with Black 
 Donald, Colonel Le Js"oir left home to join his regiment, 
 ordered to Mexico. 
 
 He was accompained by his son, Cravern Le Xoir, as far 
 as Baltimore, from which port the reinforcements were to 
 sail for Xew Orleans, en route for the seat of war. 
 
 Here, at the last moment, when the vessel was about to 
 weigh anchor. Craven Le Xoir took leave of his father and 
 set out for the Hidden House. 
 
 And here Colonel Le Xoir's regiment was joined by the 
 company of new recruits, in which Herbert Grey .-.on held a 
 commission as lieutenant, and thus the young man's vrorst 
 
GLORY ! 
 
 forebodings were i^alized, in having for a traveling com- 
 panion and superior officer, the man of whom he had been 
 destined to make a mortal enemy, Colonel Le !N"oir. How- 
 ever, Herbert soon marked out bis course of conduct, which 
 was to avoid Le Noir as muoli as was consistent with his own 
 official duty, and when compelled to meet him, to deport 
 himself with the cold ceremony of a subordinate to a 
 superior officer. 
 
 Le ISToir, on his part, treated Herbert with an arrogant 
 Bcorn amounting to insult, and used every opportunity 
 afforded him by his position to wound and humiliate the 
 young lieutenant. 
 
 After a quick and prosperous voyage they reached New 
 Orleans, where they expected to be farther reinforced by a 
 company of volunteers who had come down the Mississippi 
 river from St. Louis. These volunteers were now being 
 daily drilled at their quarters in the city, and were only 
 waiting the arrival of the vessel to be enrolled iu the regi- 
 ment. 
 
 One morning, a few days after the ship reached harbor, 
 Herbert Greyson went on shore to the military rendezvous 
 to see the new recruits exercised. While he stood within 
 the enclosure watching their evolutions under the orders of 
 an officer, his attention became concentrated upon the 
 form of a young man of the rank and file, who was march- 
 ing in a line with many others having their backs turned 
 towards him. That form and gait seemed familiar — under 
 the circumstances in which he saw them again — painfully 
 familiar. And yet he could not identify the man. While 
 he gazed, the recruits, at the word of command, suddenly 
 wheeled and faced about. And Herbert could scarcely 
 repress an exclauiation of astonishment and regret. 
 
 That young man in the dress- of a private soldier was 
 Clara Day^s betrothed, the widow^s only son. Traverse 
 Eocke ! While Herbert continued to gaze in surprise and 
 grief, the young recruit raised his eyes, recognized liis 
 
OLOBT I 
 
 42S 
 
 friend, flushed up to liis very temples, and cast his eyes 
 down again. The rapid evolutions soon wheeled them 
 around, and the next order sent them into their quarters. 
 
 Herbert^s time w^as also up, and he returned to his 
 duty. 
 
 The next day Herbert went to the quarters of the new 
 recruits, and sought oat his young friend, whom he found 
 loitering about the grounds. Again Traverse blushed 
 deeply as the young lieutenant approached. But Herbert 
 Greyson, letting none of his regret appear, since now it 
 would be worse than useless, in only serving to give pain 
 to the young private, went up to him cordially and shook 
 his hands, saying : 
 
 Going to serve your country, eh, Traverse ? Well, I 
 am heartily glad to see you, at any rate." 
 
 But heartily sorry to see me here, enlisted as a pri- 
 vate in a company of raw recruits, looking not unlike Fal- 
 staff's ragged regiment ?" 
 
 iSTay, I did not say that, Traverse. Many a private in 
 the ranks has risen to be a general officer," replied Her- 
 bert, encouragingly. 
 
 Traverse laughed good-humoredly, saying : 
 
 It does not look much like that in my case. This 
 dress, be said, looking down at his coarse, ill-fitting uni- 
 form, cow-hide shoos, etc. — this dress, this drilling, these 
 close quarters, ccarse food, and mixed company, is enough 
 to take the military ardor out of anyone." 
 
 Traverse, you talk like a dandy, which is not at all 
 your character. Effeminacy is not your vice." 
 
 " Xor any other species of weakness, do you mean ? 
 Ah, Herbert ! your aspiring, hopeful, confident old friend 
 is considerably taken down in his ideas of himself, his suc- 
 cess, and life in general. I went to the West with high 
 hopes. Six months of struggling against indifference, neg- 
 lect, and accumulating debts, lowered them down. I car- 
 lied out letters and made friends, but their friendship be- 
 
424 
 
 GLORY ! 
 
 gan and ended in wishing me well. While trying to get 
 into profitable practice I got into debt. Meanwhile 1 could 
 not hear from my betrothed in all those months. An occa- 
 sional letter from her might have prevented this step. But 
 troubles gathered around me^ debts increased, and " 
 
 " Creditors were crueL It is the old story, poor boy 
 Ko ; my only creditors were my landlady and my 
 laundress, two poor widows who never willingly distressed 
 me, but who occasionally asked for ^ that little amount ' so 
 piteously, that my heart bled to lack it to give them. And 
 as victuals and clean shirts were absolute necessaries of life, 
 every week my debts increased. I could have faced a pros- 
 perous male creditor, and might, perhaps, have been pro- 
 voked to bully such an one, bad be been inclined to be 
 cruel ; but I could not face poor women, who after all, I 
 believe, are generally the best friends a struggling young 
 man can have ; and so, not to bore a smart young lieuten- 
 ant with a poor private's antecedents " 
 
 Oh, Traverse 
 
 — I will even make an end of my story. ' At last there 
 came a weary day when hope and faith beneath the weight 
 gave way.^ And hearing that a company of volunteers was 
 being raised to go to Mexico, I enlisted, sold my citizen's 
 wardrobe and my little medical library, paid my debts, made 
 my two friends, the poor widows, some acceptable presents, 
 sent the small remnant of the money to my mother, telling 
 her that I was going farther south to try my fortune, and — 
 here I am !" 
 
 You did not tell her that you had enlisted ?" 
 
 ^^No.'' 
 
 Oh, Traverse ! how long ago was it that you left St. 
 Louis r 
 
 ^' Just two weeks.-" 
 
 Ah ! if you had only had patience for a few dava 
 longer !" burst unaware from Hebert s bosom. In an 
 
GLORY ! 
 
 425 
 
 instant he was sorry for having spoken thus, for Traverse, 
 with all his soul in his eyes, asked eagerly : 
 
 i< Wliy — why, Herbert ? ^hat do you mean 
 
 " Wliy, you should know that I did not come direct 
 from West Point, but from the neighborhood of Staunton 
 and Hurricane Hall." 
 
 ^'^Did you ? oh, did you ? . Then you may be able to 
 give me news of Clara and my dear mother exclaimed 
 Traverse, eagerly. 
 
 Yes, I am— pleasant news," said Herbert, hesitating 
 in a manner in which no one ever hesitated before in com- 
 municating good tidings. 
 
 Thank Heaven ! oh, thank Heaven ! What is it, 
 Herbert ? How is my dear mother getting on ? Where is 
 my best Clara ?" 
 
 They are both living together at Willow Heights, 
 according to the wishes of the late Doctor Day. A second 
 appeal to the Orphans' Court, made in behalf of Clara by 
 her next friend. Doctor Williams, about a month ago, 
 proved more successful. And if you had waited a few days 
 longer before enlisting and leaving St. Louis, you would 
 have received a letter from Clara to the same effect, and 
 one from Doctor Williams, apprising you that your mother 
 had received her legacy, and that the thousand dollars left 
 you by Doctor Day had been paid into the Agricultural 
 Bank, subject to your orders." 
 
 ^' Oh, Heaven ! had I but waited three days longer !" 
 exclaimed Traverse, in such acute distress that Herbert 
 hastened to console him by saying : 
 
 Do not repine. Traverse. These things go by fate. 
 It was your destiny — let us hope it will prove a glorious 
 one." 
 
 It was my impatience !" exclaimed Traverse. It 
 was my impatiei^ce ! Doctor Day always faithfully 
 warned me against it — always told mo that most of 
 the errors, sins and miseries of this world arose from sin;- 
 
426 
 
 GLORY ! 
 
 pie impatience, which is want of faith. And now I know 
 it ! and now I know it ! What had I, who had an honor- 
 able profession, to do with Ijocoiiiiiig a private soldier 
 
 " Well, well, it is honorable at least to serve your conn- 
 try," said Herbert, soothingly. 
 
 ^^If a foreign foe invaded her shores, yes ; but what 
 had I to do with invading another^s country ? — enlisting 
 for a war of the rights and wrongs of which I know no 
 more than anybody else does ! Growing inipatieiit because 
 fortune did not at once empty her cornucopia upon my 
 head ! Oh, fool !" 
 
 You blame yourself too severely, Traverse. Your act 
 was natural enough and justifiable enough, much as it is 
 to be regretted,"' said Herbert, cheerfully. 
 
 Come, come, sit on this plank bench beside me — if 
 you are not ashamed to be seen with a private who is also 
 a donkey — and tell me all about it. Show me the full 
 measure of the happiness I have so recklessly squandered 
 away," exclaimed Traverse, desperately. 
 
 I will sit beside you and tell you everything you Avish 
 to know, — on condition that you stop berating yourself in 
 a manner that fills me with indignation," replied Herbert, 
 as they went to a distant part of the dusty enclosure and 
 took their seats upon a rude bench. 
 
 " Oh, Herbert, bear with me ; I could dash my wild, 
 impatient head against a stone wall !" 
 
 " That would not be likely to clear or strengthen your 
 brains," said Herbert, who thereupon commenced and told 
 Traverse the whole history of the persecution of Clara Day 
 at the Hidden House ; the interception of her letters ; the 
 attempt made to force her into a marriage with Craven Lo 
 Noir ; her deliverance from her enemies by the address and 
 courage of Capitola ; her flight to Staunton and refuge 
 with Mrs. Rocke ; her appeal to the court ; and finally her 
 success and her settlement under the charge of her matron- 
 ly friend at Willow Heights. 
 
GLORY ! 
 
 42? 
 
 Traverse had not listened patiently to this account. 
 He heard it with many bursts of irrepressible indignation 
 and many involuntary starts of vrild passion. Towards the 
 last he sprang up and down_, chafiug like an angry lion in 
 his cage. 
 
 ''And this man/' he exclaimed, as Herbert concluded, 
 — " This demon — this beast — is now commandino^ officer ! 
 the colonel of our regiment 
 
 '' Yes/' replied Herbert, " but as such you must not 
 call him names ; military rules are despotic : and this man 
 who knows your person and knows you to be the betrothed 
 of Clara Day, whose hand and fortune he covets for his son 
 will leave no power, with which his command invests him, 
 untried, to ruin and destroy you ! Traverse, I say these 
 things to you, that being ' forewarned ' you may be ' fore- 
 armed.' I trust that you will remember your mother and 
 your betrothed, and for their dear sakes practice every tort 
 of self-control, patience and forbearance under the provo- 
 cations you may receive from ottr colonel. And in advis- 
 ing yoti to do this, I only counsel that which I shall myself 
 practice. I, too, am under the ban of Le Xoir for the part 
 I played in the church in succoring Capitola, as well as for 
 happening to be 'the nephew of my uncle,' ^fajor TTarfield, 
 who is his mortal enemy." 
 
 " I ? — will I not be patient, after the lesson I have just 
 learned upon the evils of its opposite ? Be easy on my 
 account, dear old friend. I will be as patient as Job, meek 
 as Moses, and long suifcring as — my own sweet mother I*' 
 said Traverse, earnestly. 
 
 The drum was now heard beating to quarters, and 
 Traverse, wringing his friend's hand, left him. 
 
 Herbert returned to his ship full of one scheme, of 
 which he had not spoken to Traverse lest it should prove 
 unsuccessfal. This scheme was to procure his free dis- 
 charge before they should set sail for the Eio Grande. He 
 had many influential friends among the officers of his 
 
428 
 
 ^LORY I 
 
 regiment, and he was resolved to tell them as much as was 
 delicate, proper and useful for them to know of the young 
 recruit's private history in order to get their co-operation. 
 
 Herbert spent every hour of this day and the next, 
 when off duty, in this service of his friend. He found his 
 brother-oflScers easily interested, sympathetic and propitious. 
 They united their efforts with his own to procure the dis- 
 charge of the young recruit ; but in vain ! the power of 
 Colonel Le ISToir was opposed to their influence, and the 
 application was peremptorily refused. 
 
 Herbert Greyson did not sit down quietly under this 
 disappointment, but wrote an application, embodying all 
 the facts of the case to the Secretary of War, got it signed 
 by all the ofiQcers of the regiment and despatched it by the 
 first mail. 
 
 Simultaneously he took another important step for 
 the interest of his friend. Without hinting any particular 
 motive he had begged Traverse to let him have his photo- 
 graph taken, and the latter, with a laugh, at the lover-like 
 proposal, had consented. When the likeness was finished, 
 Herbert sent it by express to Major Warfield, accompanied 
 by a letter describing the excellent character and unfortu- 
 nate condition of Traverse, praying the Major's interest in 
 his behalf, and concluded by saying : 
 
 You cannot look upon the accompanying photograph 
 of my friend and any longer disclaim your own express image 
 in your son." 
 
 How this affected tUe action of Old Hurricane will be 
 seen hereafter. 
 
 Traverse, knowing nothing of the efforts that had been, 
 and were still being made for his discharge, suffered neither 
 disappointment for failure of the first, nor anxiety for the 
 issue of the last. 
 
 He wrote to his mother and Clara, congratulating them 
 on their good fortune ; telling them that he, in common 
 with many young men of St. Louis, had volunteered for the 
 
GLOKY I 
 
 429 
 
 Mexican War ; that he was then at New Orleans, en route 
 for the Rio Grande, and that they would be pleased to know 
 til at their mutual friend, Herbert Greyson, was an officer 
 in the same regiment of which he himself was at present a 
 priyate,but with strong hopes of soon winning his epaulettes. 
 He endorsed an order for his mother to draw the thousand 
 dollars left him by Doctor Day ; and he advised her to re- 
 deposit the sum in her own name, for her own use in case 
 of need. Praying God's blessing upon them all, and begging 
 their prayers for himself, Traverse concluded his letter, 
 which he mailed the same evening. 
 
 And the next morning the company was ordered on 
 board, and the whole expedition set sail for the Rio Grande. 
 
 I^ow we might just as easily as not accompany our troops 
 to Mexico and relate the feats of arms there performed, 
 with the minuteness and fidelity of an eye-witness, since we 
 have sat at dinner tables where the heroes of that war have 
 been honored guests, and where we have heard them fight 
 their battles over till ' ' thrice the foe was slain, and thrice 
 the field was won." 
 
 We might follow the rising star of our young lieutenant, 
 as by his own merits and other's mishaps he ascended from 
 rank to rank, through all the grades of military promotion, 
 but we need not, because the feats of Lieutenant — Captain 
 — Major and Colonel Greyson, are they not written in the 
 chronicles of the Mexican War ? 
 
 We prefer to look after our little domestic heroine, our 
 brave little Cap, who, when women have their rights, shall 
 be a lieutenant-colonel herself. Shall she not, gentlemen ? 
 
 In one fortnight from this time, while Mrs. Rocke 
 and Clara were still living comfortably at Willow Heights, 
 and waiting anxiously to hear from Traverse, whom they 
 still supposed to be practicing his profession at St. Louis, 
 they recei^d his last letter written on the eve of his depart- 
 ure for the seat of war. At first the news overwhelmed 
 
430 
 
 CAP CAPTIVATES A CEAVEN. 
 
 tliem with grief, but then tbey sought relief in faith, 
 answered his letter cheerfully, and commended him to the 
 infinite mercy of God. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 CAP CAPTIVATES A CRAVEK. 
 
 " He knew himself a villain, but he deemed 
 The rest no better than the thing he seemed: 
 And scorned the best as hypocrites who hid 
 Those deeds the bolder spirits plainly did, 
 He knew himself detested, but he knew 
 The hearts that loathed him crouched and— dreaded too." 
 
 The unregenerate human heart is perhaps the most 
 inconsistent thing in all nature ; and in nothing is it more 
 capricious than in the manifestations of its passions ; and 
 in no passion is it so fantastic as in that which it miscalls 
 love — but which is really often only appetite. 
 
 From the earliest days of manhood Craven Le Noir 
 had been the votary of vice, which he called pleasure. 
 Before reaching the age of twenty-five he had run the full 
 course of di.^sipation, and found himself ruined in health, 
 degraded in character, and disgusted with life. 
 
 Yet in all this experience his heart had not been once 
 agitated with a single emotion that deserved the name of 
 passion. It was colder than the coldest. 
 
 He had not loved Clara ; though, for the sake of her 
 money, he had courted her so assiduously. Indeed, for the 
 doctor^s orphan girl, he had from the first, conceived a 
 strong antipatliy. His evil spirit had shruitit: from her 
 pure soul with the loathing a fiend might feel for an angeL 
 
CAP CAPTITATZ3 A CEATE^T. 
 
 431 
 
 He had fouud it repugnant and diflScuU. almost to tlie 
 extent of impossibility, for him to pursue the courtship to 
 which lie ^as only reconciled by a sense of dnty to — his 
 pocket. 
 
 It was reserved for his meeting with Capitola, at the 
 altar of the Forest Chapel to fire his clammy heart, stag- 
 nant blood, and sated senses, v^iih the very first passion 
 that he had ever known. Her image, as she stood there at 
 the altar with fiashins: eves, and fiamins: cheeks, an J soath- 
 ing tongue, defying him, was ever before his mind's eye. 
 There was something about that girl so spirited, so 
 piquant and original, that she impressed even his apathetic 
 nature as no other woman had ever been able to do. But* 
 what most of all, attracted him to Capitola v,-as her dialle- 
 rie ! He longed to catch that little savage to li:s bosom and 
 have her at his mercy. The aversion she had exhibited 
 towards him only stimulated his passion. 
 
 Craven Le Xoir, among his other graces, was gifted 
 with inordinate vanity. He did not in the least degree 
 despair of overcoming all C dislike to his person, 
 
 and inspiring her with a pass:; :. : :.;::J to his own. 
 
 He knew well that he dared Lot present himself at 
 Hurricane Hail, but he resolved to waylay her in her rides, 
 and there to press his suit. To this he was urged by 
 another motive almost as strong as love — namely, avarice. 
 
 He had gathered thus much fi'om his father — that Caj^- 
 itola Black was supposed to be Capitola Le Xoir, the right- 
 ful heiress of all that vast propeny in land, houses, iron 
 and coal mines, foundries and furnaces, railway shares, 
 &c., and bank stocks, from which his father drew the 
 princely revenue that supported them both in their lavish 
 extravagance of living. 
 
 As the heiress, or rather the rightful owner, of all this 
 vast fortune, Capitola was a much greater catch than 
 poor Clara with her modest estate had been. And Mr. 
 Craven Le Xoir was quite willing to turn the tables on his 
 
432 
 
 CAP CAPTIVATES A CEAVEN. 
 
 fatlier by running off with the great heiress, and stej) from 
 his irksome 2:)osition of dependent upon Colonel Le Noir's 
 often ungracious bount}^ to that of the husband of the heiress 
 and the master of the projDortj. Added to tliat was another 
 favorable circumstance, namely, whereas he had had a strong 
 personal antipathy to Clara, he had as strong an attraction 
 to Capitola, which would make his course of courtsliip all 
 the pleasanter. 
 
 In one word, he resolved to woo, win, and elope with, or 
 forcibly abduct, Capitola Le Noir, marry her, and then turn 
 upon his father and claim the fortune in right of his wife. 
 The absence of Colonel Le ISToir in Mexico fa^'ored his pro* 
 jects, as he could not fear interruption. 
 
 Meanwhile our little madcap remained quite unconscious 
 of the honors designed her. She had cried every clay of the 
 first week of Herbert's absence ; every alternate day of the 
 second ; twice in the third ; once in the fourth ; not at all 
 in the fifth, and the sixth week she was quite herself again, 
 as full of fun and frolic and as ready for any mischief or 
 deviltry that might turn up. 
 
 She resumed her rides, no longer followed by Wool, 
 whom Old Hurricane, partly upon account of his misadven- 
 ture in having had the misfortune inadvertently to lose 
 sight of " his mistress upon that memorable occasion of the 
 metamorphosis of Cap into Clara, and partly because in the 
 distant absence of Le ISToir, Old Hurricane did not consider 
 his favorite in danger. 
 
 He little knew that a subtle and unscrupulous agent 
 had been left sworn to her destruction, and that another 
 individual, almost equally dangerous, had registered a 
 secret vow to run off with her. 
 
 Neither did poor Cap, when rejoicing to be free from 
 the dogging attendance of Wool, imagine the perils to 
 which she was exposed, nor is it even likely that if she had 
 she would have cared for them in any other manner than 
 as promising piquant adventures. From childhood she 
 
CAP CAPTIVATES A CRAVEX. 
 
 433 
 
 had been inured to danger, and had never suffered harm ; 
 therefore, Cap, like the Clievalier Bayard^ was ^'without 
 fear and without reproacln'* 
 
 Craven Le Xoir proceeded cautiously with his plans, 
 knowing that there was time enough_, and that all might 
 be lost by haste. He did not wish to alarm Capitola. 
 
 The first time he took occasion to meet her in her rides, 
 he merely bowed deeply, even to the flaps of his saddle, 
 aad with a melancholy smile passed on. 
 
 '•'Miserable wretch, he is a mean fellow to want to 
 marry a girl against her will, no matter how much he 
 might have been in love with her ; and I am very glad I 
 balked him ! Still, he looks so ill and unhappy that — I 
 camt help pitying him I'"' said Cap, looking compassionately 
 at his white cheeks and languishing eyes, and little know- 
 ing that the illness was the effect of dissipation, and that 
 the melancholy was assumed for the occasion. 
 
 A fe\'/ days after this. Cap again met Craven Le jSToir, 
 who again, with a deep bow and sad smile, passed her. 
 
 " Poor fellow I he richly deserves to suffer, and I hope 
 it may make him better, for I am right down sorry for 
 him ; it must be so dreadful to lose one we love I but it was 
 too base in him to let his father try to compel her to have 
 him I Suppose, now, Herbert Greyson was to take a 
 fancy to another girl, would I let uncle go to him and put 
 a pistol to his head, and say, ' Cap is fond of you, you 
 varlet I and demmy, sir I you shall marry none but her, or 
 receive an ounce of lead in your stupid brains I' Xo, I'd 
 scorn it I I'd forward the other wedding I I'd make the 
 cake and dress the bride, and— then maybe I'd break — 
 no, Vm blamed if I would I I I'd not break my heart for 
 anybody I Set them up with it, indeed I Xeither would 
 my dear, darling, sweet, precious Herbert treat me so I 
 And Fm a wretch to think of it !" said Cap, with a rich, 
 inimitable unction, as, rejoicing in her own happy love, 
 she cheered Gyp and rode on. 
 
4:84 
 
 CAP CAPTIVATES A CRAVEN. 
 
 Now Craven Le Noir had been conscious of the relent- 
 ing and compassionate looks of Capitola, but he did not 
 know that they were only the pitying regards of a noble 
 and victorious nature over a vanquished and sufferiug wrong- 
 doer. However, he still determined to be cautious, and 
 not ruin his prospects by precipitate action, but to *^ hasten 
 slowly. 
 
 So the next time he met Capitol a he raised his eyes with 
 one deep, sad, appealing gaze to hers, and then bowing 
 profoundly, passed on. 
 
 Poor man V' said Cap, to herself, ''he bears no mal- 
 ice towards me for depriving him of his sweetheart, that's 
 certain ! And badly as be behaved, I suppose it was all for 
 love ; for I don't know how any one could live in the same 
 house with Clara and not be in love with her. I should 
 have been so myself, if Fd been a man, I know I" 
 
 The next time Cap met Craven, and saw again that 
 deep, sorrowful, appealing gaze, as he bowed and passed 
 her, she glanced after him, saying to herself : 
 
 ''Poor soul, I wonder wliat he means by looking at me 
 in that piteous manner ? — I can do nothing to relieve him. 
 I'm sure if I could, I would. ' But the way of trans- 
 gressors is hard,' Mr. Le Noir, and he who sins must suf- 
 fer !" 
 
 For about three weeks their seemingly accidental meet- 
 ings continued in this silent manner, so slowly did Craven 
 make his advances. Then feeling more confidence, he 
 made a considerably long step forward. 
 
 One day, when he guessed that Capitola would be out, 
 instead of meeting her as heretofore, he put himself in her 
 road, and riding slowly toward a five-barred gate, allowed 
 her to overtake him. 
 
 He opened the gate, and bowing, held it open until she 
 had passed. 
 
 She bowed her thanks and rode on ; but presently, 
 witho it the least appearance of intruding — since she had 
 
 \ 
 
CA.P CAPTIVATES A CPvAVEN. 
 
 435 
 
 oYeit'dkt'R Jiim — lie was at her side; — and speakiug "witli 
 downcast ejes and defereniial manner, lie said : 
 
 I have long de.sirod an opportunity to exj^ressthe deep 
 sorrow and mortification I feel^ for having been hurried into 
 rudeness towards an estiiiiable young lady at the Forest 
 Chapel. ^liss Black, will you permit me now to assure you 
 of my profound repentance of that act, and to implore your 
 pardon.'* 
 
 Oh, / have nothing against you, Mr. Le Xoir. It was 
 
 not I whom you were intending to marry against my will I 
 and as for what you said and did to me, ha-ha ! I had 
 provoked it, you know, and I also afterwards paid it in 
 kind I It was a fair fight, in which I was victor ; and 
 victors should never be vindictive said Cap, hiughing, 
 for though knowing him to have been violent and unjust, 
 she did not suspect him of being treacherous and deceitful, 
 or imagine the base designs concealed beneath his plausible 
 manner. Her brave, honest nature could under::tand a 
 brute and a despot, but not a traitor. 
 
 Then like frank enemies who have fought their fight 
 out, yet bear no malice towards each other, we may shake 
 hands and be friends, I hope V said Craven, replying in the 
 same spirit in which she had spoken. 
 
 Well, I don't know about that, Mr. Le Xoir ! Friend- 
 ship is a very sacred thiug, and it's name should not be 
 lightly taken on our tongues. I hope you will excuse me if 
 I decline your proffer/'^ said Caji — who had a well of deep, 
 true, earnest feeling beneath her effervescent surface. 
 
 TThat I you will not even grant a repentant man your 
 friendshi|). Miss Black ?" asked Craven, with a sorrowful 
 smile. 
 
 '^I wish you well, Mr. Le Xoir. I wish you a good and 
 therefore a licqjpy liie but I cannot give you friendship, 
 for that means a great deal." 
 
 Ob, I see how it is ! You cannot give your friendship 
 where jou cannot give your esteem. Is it not so T' 
 
436 
 
 CAi* CAPTIVATES A CRAVEN. 
 
 Yes," said Capitola, that' is it ; yet I wish you so 
 well that I wish you might grow worthy of higlier esteem 
 than mine." 
 
 " You are thinking of my — yes, I will not shrink from 
 characterizing that conduct as it deserves— my unpardonable 
 violence towards Clara. Miss Black, I have mourned that 
 sin from the day that I was hurried into it until this. I 
 have bewailed it from the very bottom of my heart," said 
 Craven, earnestly fixing his eyes with an expression of per- 
 fect truthfulness upon those of Capitol a. 
 
 '^I am glad to hear you say so," said Cap. 
 Miss Black, please to hear this in palliation — I will 
 not presume to say in defense of my conduct ; I was driven 
 to frenzy by a passion of contending love and jealousy, as 
 violent and maddening as it Avas unreal and transient. But 
 that delusive passion has subsided, and among the unmerited 
 mercies for which I have to be thankful is that, in my frantic 
 pursuit of Clara Day, I was not cursed with success. For 
 all the violence into which that frenzy drove me I have 
 deeply repented. I can never forgive myself, but — cannot 
 you forgive me ?" 
 
 ''Mr. Le !N"oir, I have nothing for which to forgive 
 you. I am glad that you have repented towards Clara, and 
 I wish you well, and that is really all that I can say." 
 
 "I have deserved this, and I accept it," said Craven, 
 in a tone so mournful that Caj)itola, in spite of all her 
 instincts, could not choose but pity him. 
 
 He rode on, with his pale face, downcast eyes and mel- 
 ancholy expression, until they reached a point at the back 
 of Hurricane Hall where their paths diverged. 
 
 Here Craven, lifting his hat and bowing j^irofoundly, 
 said, in a sad tone : 
 
 " Good evening, Miss Black !" 
 
 And turning his horse's head, took the path leading 
 down into the Hidden Hollow. 
 
 '' Poor young fellow ! he must be very unhappy down 
 
CAP CAPTIYATES A CEAVEK. 
 
 437 
 
 iu that miserable place ! but I caii^t hel-p it 1 I wisb be 
 would go to Mexico with the rest/' said Oap^, as she pursued 
 her Tvay homeward. 
 
 lN"ot to excite her suspicion. Craven Le Xoir aToided 
 meeting Capitola for a few days, and then threw himself in 
 her road, and as before, allowed 7ier to overtake Jiim. 
 
 Yery subtilely he entered into conversation with her, 
 and guarding every word and look, took care to interest 
 without alarming her. He said no more of friendship, but 
 a great deal of regret for wasted years and wasted talents 
 in the past, and good resolufions for the future. 
 
 And Cap listened good humoredly. Capitola being of 
 a brave, hard, firm nature, had not the sensitive percep- 
 tions, fine intuitions, and true insight into character that 
 distinguished the more refined nature of Clara Day — or at 
 least, she had not these delicate faculties in the same per- 
 fection. Thus her undefined suspicions of Craven^s sincer- 
 ity were overborne by a soii: of noble benevolence which 
 determined her to think the best of him which circum- 
 stances would permit. 
 
 Craven, on his part, having had more experience, was 
 much wiser in the j^ursuit of his object ; he had also the 
 advantage of being in earnest ; his passion for Capitola was 
 sincere, and not, as it had been in the case of Clara, 
 simulated ; he believed, therefore, that when the time 
 should be ripe for the declaration of his love, he would 
 have a much better prospect of success — especially as 
 Capitola, in her ignorance of her own great fortune, must 
 consider his proposal the very climax of disinterestedness. 
 
 After three more weeks of riding and conversing with 
 Capitola, he had, in his own estimation, advanced so far in 
 her good opinion as to make it perfectly safe to risk a 
 declaration. And this he determined to do upon the very 
 first opportunity. 
 
 Chance favored him. 
 
 One afternoon Capitola, riding through the pleasant 
 
438 
 
 CAP CAPTIVATES A CRAYEN. 
 
 woods skirting the back of the mountain range tliat 
 sheltered Harricane Hall, got a fall, for wliicli she was 
 afterward inclined well to cuff Wool. 
 
 It happened in this way : she had come to a steep rise 
 in the road, and urged her pony into a hard gallop, intend- 
 ing, as she said to herself, to storm the height,'^ when 
 suddenly, under the violent strain, the girth, ill-fastened, 
 flew apart, and Miss Cap was on the ground, buried under 
 the fallen saddle. 
 
 With many a blessing upon the carelessness of the 
 grooms, Cap picked herself up, put the saddle on the horse 
 and was engaged in drawdng under the girth v/hen Craven 
 Le Noir rode up, sprang from his horse, and with anxiety 
 depicted on his countenance, ran to the spot inquiring : 
 
 What is the matter ? — No serious accident, I hope and 
 trust. Miss Black r 
 
 No ; those wretches in uncle^s stable did not half buckle 
 the girth, and as I was going in a hard gallop up the steep, 
 it flew apart and gave me a tumble, that's all V said Cap, 
 desisting a moment from her occupation to take breath. 
 
 You were not hurt inquired Craven, with deep 
 interest in his tone. 
 
 Oh, no ! — there was no harm done except to my riding 
 skirt, which has been torn and muddled by the fall,'' said 
 Cap, laughing, and resuming her efforts to tighten the girth. 
 
 "Pray permit me," said Craven, gently taking the end 
 of the strap from her hand ; "this is no work for a lady, 
 and is besides beyond your strength. 
 
 Capitola thanking him, withdrew to the side of the road 
 jind seating herself upon the trunk of a fallen tree, began 
 to brush the dirt from her habit. 
 
 Craven adjusted and secured the saddle with great care, 
 patted and soothed the pony, and then ajDproaching Capi- 
 tola in the most deferential manner, stood before her and 
 Sciid : 
 
 " Miss Black, you will pardon me, I hope^ if I tell you 
 
CAP CAPTIVATES A CRAVEN. 
 
 439 
 
 that the peril I had imagined yon to be in, has so agitated 
 my mind as to make it impossible for me longer to with- 
 hold a declaration of my sentiments here his voice that 
 had trembled throughout this disclosure now really and 
 utterly failed him. s, 
 
 Capitola looked up with surprise and interest ; she had / 
 never in her life before heard an explicit declaration of love / 
 from anybody. She and Herbert somehow had always / 
 understood each other very well;, without ever a w^ord of i 
 technical love-making passing between them ; so Capitola 
 did not exactly know what was coming next. 
 
 Craven recovered his voice ; and encouraged by the fav- 
 orable manner in which she appeared to listen to him, actu- 
 ally threw himself at her feet and seizing one of her hands, 
 wdth much ardor and earnestness and much more eloquence 
 than any one would have credited him with, poured forth 
 the history of his passion and his hopes. 
 
 " Well, I declare V said Cap, when he had finished his ' 
 speech and was waiting in breathless impatience for her 
 answer, this is w^hat is called a declaration of love and a 
 proposal for marriage, is it ? — It is downright sentimental, 
 I suppose, if I had only the sense to appreciate it ! It is as 
 good as a play ! pity it is lost upon me 
 
 Cruel girl ! how you mock me I" cried Craven, rising 
 from his knees and sitting beside her. 
 
 No, I don't ! Fm in solemn earnest ! I say it is first 
 rate ! do it again ! I like it 
 
 Sarcastic and merciless one, you glory in the pain you 
 give ! But if you wish again to hear me say I love you, I 
 will say it a dozen — yes, a hundred times over if you will 
 only admit that you could love me a little in return V' 
 
 '^'Don^t! that would be too tiresome! Two or three 
 times is quite enough ! Besides, what earthly good could 
 my saying ^ I love you/ do ?" 
 
 I might persuade you to become the wife of one who 
 will adore you to the last hour of his life I^^ 
 
440 
 
 CAP CAPTIVATES A CEAVEN. 
 
 Meaning you /" 
 " Meaning me, the most devoted of your admirers V' 
 ^' That isn^t saying much;, since I haven^t got any but 
 
 you 
 
 Thank fortune for it! Then f am to understand, 
 charming Capitola, that at least your hand and your affec- 
 tions are free,'^ said Craven, joyfully. 
 
 Well, now, I don^t know about that. Keally, I can't 
 positively say ! but it strikes me, if I were to get married 
 to anybody else, there's somebody would feel queerish !" 
 
 " No doubt there arc many whose secret hopes would be 
 blasted, for so charming a girl could not have passed 
 through this world without having won many hearts, who 
 would keenly feel the loss of hope, in her marriage ! But 
 what if they do, my enchanting Capitola ? You are not 
 responsible for any one having formed such hopes V 
 
 Fudge \" said Cap. /'m no belle ! never was ! never 
 can be ! have neither wealth, beauty, nor coquetry enough 
 to make me one ! Fve no lovers or admirers to break their 
 hearts about me, one way or another ; but there is one hon- 
 est fellow — hem ! never mind ; I feel as if I belonged to 
 somebody else ; that's all. I am very much obliged to you, 
 Mr. Le Noir, for your preference, and even for the beauti- 
 ful way in which you have expressed it, but — I belong to 
 sojnebody else." 
 
 Miss Black,'''' said Craven, somewhat abashed but not 
 discouraged, '^I think I understand you ! I presume that 
 you refer to the young man who was your gallant champion 
 in the Forest Chapel.''' 
 
 The one that made your nose bleed !" said the incor- 
 rigible Cap. 
 
 '' Well, Miss Black, from your words it appears that 
 this is by no means an acknowledged, but only an under-j 
 stood engagement, which cannot be binding upon either 
 party ! Now a young lady of your acknowledged good 
 sense 
 
CAP CAPTIVATES A CEAVEN. 
 
 44:1 
 
 I nevei' had any more good sense than I have had 
 admirers/^ interrupted Cap. 
 ^ Craven smiled. 
 
 would not hear your enemy say that, he replied, 
 then resuming his argument he said : 
 
 *^'You will really understand. Miss Black, that the 
 vague engagement of which you speak, where there is want 
 of fortune on hoth sides, is no more prudent than it is bind- 
 ing. On the contrary, the position which it is my pride to 
 offer you, is considered an enviable one, even apart from 
 the devoted love that goes with it. You are aware that I 
 am the sole heir of the Hidden House estate, which with 
 all its dependencies is considered the largest proprietary, 
 as my wife would be the most important lady in the coun- 
 ty." 
 
 Cap's lip curled a little ; looking askance at him, she 
 answered : 
 
 I really am very much obliged to you, Mr. Le Noir, 
 for the distinguished honor that you designed for me. I 
 should highly appreciate the magnanimity of a young 
 gentleman, the heir of the wealthiest estate in the neigh- 
 borhood, who deigns to propose marriage to the little beg- 
 gar that I acknowledge myself to be. I regret to be obliged 
 to refuse such dignities, but — I belong to another said 
 Capitola, rising and advancing towards her horse. 
 
 Craven would not risk his success by pushing his suit 
 farther at this sitting. 
 
 Very respectfully lending his assistance to put Capitola 
 into her saddle, he said he hoped at some futur^, and more 
 propitious time, to resume the subject. And then with a 
 deep bow he left her, mounted his horse and rode on his 
 way. 
 
 He did not believe that Capitola was more than half in 
 earnest, or that any girl in Capitola^s circumstances would 
 do such a mad thing as to refuse the position he offered 
 lier. 
 
449 
 
 CAP CAPTIVATES A CRAVEN. 
 
 He did not throw himself iu her way often enough to 
 excite her suspicion that their meetings were preconcerted 
 on his part, and even when he did overtake her or suffer 
 her to overtake him, he avoided giving her offense by press- 
 ing his suit until another good opportunity should offer. 
 This was not long in coming. 
 
 One afternoon he overtook her and rode by her side for 
 a short distance when finding her in unusually good spirits 
 and temper, he again renewed his declaration of love and 
 offer of marriage. 
 
 Cap turned around in her saddle and looked at him 
 with astonishment for a full minute before she exclaimed : 
 Why, Mr. Le Noir, I gave you an answer more than a 
 week ago. Didn^t I tell you ' 710 ' f What on earth do you 
 mean by repeating the question 
 
 " I mean, bewitching Capitola, not to let such a treasure 
 slii3 out of my grasp if I can help it 
 
 " I never was in your grasp that I know of V said Cap, 
 whipping up her horse and leaving him far behind. 
 
 Days passed before Craven thought it prudent again to 
 renew and press his suit. He did so upon a fine September 
 morning, wiien he overtook her riding along the banks of 
 the river. He joined her, and in the most deprecating 
 manner besought her to listen to him once more. Then he 
 commenced in a strain of the most impassioned eloquence 
 and urged his love and his proposal. 
 
 Capitola stopped her horse, wheeled around and faced 
 him, looking him full in the eyes, while she said : 
 
 '^Upon my word, Mr. Le Noir, you remind me of an 
 anecdote told of young Sheridan. When his father advised 
 him to take a wife and settle, he replied by asking loliose 
 wife be should take ! Will nobody serve your purpose, but 
 somebody else^s sweetheart ? — I have told you that I belong 
 to a brave young soldier who is fighting his country's bat- 
 tles in a foreign land, while you are lazing here at home, 
 trying to undermine him ' I am ashamed of you, sir ! and 
 
CAP CAPTIVATES A CEAVEN. 443 
 
 ashamed of myself for talking with you so many times ! 
 Never do you presume to accost me on the highwa}^, or 
 anywhere else, again ! Craven by name and craven by 
 nature, you have once already felt the weight of Herbert^s 
 arm. Do not provoke its second descent upon you ! You 
 are warned I" and with that Oapitola, with her lips curled, 
 her eyes flashing and her cheeks burning, put whip to her 
 pony and galloped away. 
 
 Craven Le Noir's thin, white face grew perfectly livid 
 with passion. 
 
 I will have her yet ! I have sworn it, and by fair 
 means or by foul, I will have her yet V he exclaimed, as he 
 relaxed his hold upon his bridle and let his horse go on 
 slowly, while he sat with his brows gathered over his thin 
 nose, his long chin buried in his neckcloth, and his nails 
 between his teeth, gnawing like a wild beast, as was his 
 custom when deeply cogitating. 
 
 Presently he conceived a plan so diabolical that none 
 but Satan himself could have inspired it ! This vras to take 
 advantage of his acquaintance and casual meetings with 
 Capitola, so to malign her character, as to make it un- 
 likely that any honest mciii would ever risk his honor by 
 taking her to wife ; that thus the way might be left clear 
 for himself; and he resolved if possible to effect this in 
 such a manner — namely, by jests, innuendoes, and sneers, 
 that it shonld never be directly traced to a positive asser- 
 tion on his part. And in the meantime he determined so 
 to govern himself in his deportment towards Capitola as to 
 arouse no suspicion, give no offense and if possible win back 
 her confidence. 
 
 It is true that even Craven Le Noir, base as he was, shrank 
 fiom the idea of smirching the reputation of the woman of 
 whom he wished to make a wife ; but then he said to him- 
 self that in that remote neighborhood the scandal would 
 be of little consequence to him wlio as soon as he should 
 be married, would claim the estate of the Hidden House in 
 
444 
 
 gap's kaqe. 
 
 right of his wife, put it in charge of an ovetseor, aud^then 
 with his bride start for Paris, the paradise of the epicarean, 
 where lie designed to fix their principal residence. 
 
 Craven Le Noir was so pleasod with his plan that he 
 immediately set about putting it in execution. Our next 
 chapter will show how he succeeded. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 cap's rage. 
 
 " Is he not approved to the height of a villain, who hath slan- 
 dered, scorned, dishonored thy kinswoman I Oh! that I were a 
 man for his sake, or had a friend who would be one for mine!" 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 AuTUMiT brought the usual city visitors to Hurricane 
 Hall to spend the sporting season and shoot over Major 
 Warfield^s grounds. Old Hurricane was in his glory, giv- 
 ing dinners and projecting hunts. 
 
 Capitola also enjoyed herself rarely, enacting with much 
 satisfaction to herself and guests her new role of hostess, 
 and not unfrequently joining her uncle and his friends in 
 their field sports. 
 
 Among the guests there were two who deserve particu- 
 lar attention, not only because they had been for many 
 years annual visitors of Hurricane Hall, but more espe- 
 cially because there had grown up between them and our 
 little madcap heroine a strong mutual confidence and 
 friendship. Yet no three persons could possibly be more 
 unlike than Capitola and the two cousins of her soul, as 
 she called these two friends. They were both distant rela- 
 tives of Major Warfie.ld, and in right of this relationship 
 invariably addressed Capitola as Cousin Cap/' 
 
GAP S RAGE. 
 
 445 
 
 John Stone, the elder of the two, was a very tall, stout, 
 squarely-built young man, with a broad, good-humored 
 face, fair skin, blue eyes, and light hair. In temperament 
 he was rather phlegmatic, quiet and lazy. In character he 
 was honest, prudent and good-tempered. In circumstan- 
 ces he was a safe banker, with a notable wife and two 
 healthy children. The one thing that was able to excite 
 his quiet nerves was the chase, of which he as was fond 
 as he could possibly be of any amusement. The one per- 
 son who agreeably stirred his rather still spirits was our 
 little Cap, and that was the secret of his friendship fer 
 her. 
 
 Edwin Percy, the other, was a young West Indian, tall 
 and delicately formed, with a clear olive complexion, 
 languishing, dark-hazel eyes, and dark, bright-chestnut hair 
 and beard. In temperament he was ardent as his clime. 
 In character, indolent, careless and self-indulgent. In 
 condition he was the bachelor heir of a sugar plantation of 
 a thousand acres. He loved not the chase, nor any other 
 amusement requiring exertion. He doted upon swansdown 
 sofas with springs, French plays, cigars and chocolate. He 
 came to the country to find repose, good air, and an appetite. 
 He was the victim of constitutional ennui that yielded to 
 nothing but the exhilaration of Capitola^s company ; that 
 was the mystery of his love for her, and doubtless the young 
 Creole would have proposed for Cap had he not thought it 
 too much trouble to get married, and dreaded theT)ustle of 
 a bridal. Certainly Edwin Percy was as opposite in char- 
 acter to John Stone as they both were to Capitola, yet great 
 was the relative attraction among the three. Cap impartially 
 divided her kind offices as hostess between them. 
 
 John Stone joined Old Hurricane in many a hard day's 
 hunt, and Capitola was often of the party. 
 
 Edwin Percy spent many hours on the luxurious lounge 
 in the parlor, where Cap was careful to place a stand with 
 chocolate, cigars, wax matches and his favorite books. 
 
cap's rage. 
 
 One day Cap had had what she called ^' a row with the 
 governor," that is to say, a slight misunderstanding with 
 Major Warfield ; a very nncom men occusrence, as the reader 
 knows, in which that temperate old gentleman had so freely 
 bestowed upon his niece the names of beggar, foundling, 
 brat, vagabond and vagrant," that Oapitola, in just indig- 
 nation, refused to join the birdiiig party, and taking her 
 game-bag, powder-flask, shot-horn and fowling-piece, and 
 calling her favorite pointer, walked off, as she termed it, 
 ''to shoot herself." But if Oapitola^s by no means sweet 
 temper had been tried that morning, it was destined to be 
 still more severely tested before the day was over. 
 
 Her second provocation came in this way : John Stone, 
 another deserter of the birding party, had that day betaken 
 himself to Tip Top upon some private business of his own. 
 He dined at the Antlers in company with some sporting 
 gentlemen of the neighborhood, and when the conversation 
 naturally turned upon field sports, Mr. John Stone spoke 
 of the fine shooting that was to be had around Hurricane 
 Hall, when one of the gentlemen, looking straight across the 
 table to Mr. Stone, said : 
 
 " Ahem ! — that pretty little huntress of Hurricane Hall 
 — that niece, or ward, or mysterious daughter of Old Hurri- 
 cane, who engages with so much enthusiasm in your field- 
 sports over there, is a girl of very free and easy manners, 
 1 understand ! — a Diana in nothing but her love of the 
 chase !" 
 
 *' Sir ! it is a base calumny ! and the man who endorses 
 it is a shameless slanderer ! There is my card ! I may be 
 found at my present residence, Hurricane Hall," said John 
 Stone, throwing his pasteboard across the table, and rising 
 to leave it. 
 
 '' ISTay, nay," said the stranger, laughing and pushing 
 the card away. I do not endorse the statement ; I know 
 nothing about it. I wash my hands of it," said the young 
 man. And then upon Mr. Stone's demanding the author 
 
CAF g EAQE. 
 
 U1 
 
 of the calumny, be gave the name of Mr. Craven Le Noir, 
 who, he said, had talked in his cups'^ at a dinner parly 
 recently given hj one of his friends. 
 
 '^^I pronounce — publicly, in the presence of all these 
 witnesses, as I shall presently to Craven Le Noir himself — 
 that he is a sbameless miscreant, who has basely slandered 
 a noble girl ! You, sir, have declined to endorse those 
 words ; henceforth decline to repeat them ! For after this 
 I shall call to a severe account any man who ventures, by 
 word, gesture or glance, to hint this slander, or in any other 
 way deal lightly with the honorable name and fame of the 
 lady in question. Gentlemen, I am to be found at Hurri- 
 cane Hall, and I liave the lienor of wishing you a more 
 improving subject of conversation, and — a very good after- 
 noon, said John Stone, bowing and leaving the room. 
 
 He immediately called for his horse and rode home. 
 
 In crossing the thicket of woods between the river and 
 the rising ground in front of Hurricane Hall, he overtook 
 Capitola, who, as we have said, had been out alone with her 
 gun and dog, and was now returning home with her game- 
 bag well laden. 
 
 Now, as John Stone looked at Capitola, with her reck- 
 less, free and joyous air, he thought she was just the 
 sort of a girl unconsciously, to get herself and friends into 
 trouble. And he thought it best to give her a hint to put 
 an abrupt period to her acquaintance, if she had even the 
 slightest, with the heir apparent of the Hidden House. 
 
 While still hesitating how to begin the conversation, he 
 came up with the young girl, dismounted, and leading his 
 horse, walked by her side, asking carelessly : 
 What have you bagged, Cap ?" 
 
 " Some patridges. Ob, you should have been out with 
 me and Sweetlips ! we've had sucJi sport ! But, anyhow, you 
 shall enjoy your share of the spoils ! Come home, and you 
 shall have some of these patridges broiled for supper, with 
 
448 
 
 cap's eage. 
 
 currant sauce — a dish of my own invention, for uncle's 
 sake, you know ! lie^s sucli a gourmand V 
 
 ^' Thank you, yes, I am on my way home now. Hem-m ! 
 Capitola, I ceunsel you to cut the acquaintance of our 
 neighbor, Craven Le Noir." 
 
 '■''I have already done so ; but — what in the world is the 
 matter, that you should advise me thus V inquired Capitola, 
 fixing her eyes steadily upon the face of John Stone, who 
 avoided her gaze as he answered : 
 
 **The man is not a proper associate for a young 
 woman/' 
 
 I know that, and have cut him accordingly ; but, 
 cousin John, there is some reason for your words, that you 
 have not expressed ; and as they concern me, now I insist 
 upon knowing what they are/' 
 
 ''Tut ! it is nothing,'' said the other, evasively. 
 
 '' John Stone, I know better ! and the more you look 
 down and whip your boot, the surer I am that there is 
 something I ought to know, and I ^uill know !" 
 
 '' Well, you termagant ! have your way ! — he has been 
 speaking lightly of you — that's all ! nobody minds Imn; Ms 
 tongue is no scandal." 
 
 " John Stone, what has he said ?" asked Capitola, draw- 
 ing her breath hardly between her closed teeth. 
 
 '' Oh, now, why should you ask ? — It is nothing ; it is 
 not proper that I should tell yoa," replied that gentleman, 
 in embarrassment. 
 
 It is nothing,' and yet *it is not proper that you 
 should tell me !' How do you make that out ? John 
 Stone ! leave off lashing the harmless bushes and listen to 
 me ! — I have to live in the same neighborhood with this 
 man, after you have gone away, and I insist upon knowing 
 the whole length and breadth of his baseness and malig- 
 nity, that I may know how to judge and punish him !" said 
 Capitola, with such grimness of resolution that Mr. Stone, 
 provoked at her perversity, answered : 
 
cap's rage. 
 
 Well, you willful girl, listen V Au dcommenciug, he 
 mercilessly told her all that had passed at the table. 
 
 To have seen our Cap, then I Face, neck and bosom 
 were flushed with the crimson tide of indignation ! 
 " You are sure of what you tell me. Cousin John ?" 
 
 The man vouches for it." 
 ''He shall bite the dust!" 
 " What ?" 
 
 ''The slanderer shall bite the dust !" 
 
 Without more ado, down was thrown gun, game-bag, 
 powder-flask and shot-horn, and bounding from point to 
 point over all the intervening space, Capitola rushed into 
 Hurricane Hall, and without an instant^s delay ran straight 
 into the parlor, where her epicurean friend, the young Cre- 
 ole, lay slumbering upon the lounge. 
 
 With her face now livid with concentrated rage, and 
 her eyes glittering with that suppressed light peculiar to 
 intense passion, she stood before him and said : 
 
 " Edwin ! Craven Le jSToir has defamed your cousin ! 
 get up and challenge him V 
 
 "What did you say. Cap?" said Mr. Percy, slightly 
 yawning. 
 
 " Must I repeat it ? Craven Le ISToir has defamed my 
 character — challenge him !" 
 
 " That would be against the law, coz ; they would indict 
 me, sure !" 
 
 "You — you — you lie there and answer me in that way I 
 Oh, that I were a man !" 
 
 "Compose yourself, sweet coz, and tell me wh^it all 
 this is about. Yaw-oo ! — really I was asleep when you first 
 spoke to me." 
 
 " Asleep ! had you been dead and in your grave, the 
 words that I spoke should have roused you like the trump 
 of the archangel !" exclaimed Capitola, with the blood 
 rushing back to her cheeks. 
 
450 
 
 cap's rage. 
 
 Your entrance was sufficiently startling, coz ! but toll 
 me over again — what was the occasion 
 
 That caitiff, Cravou Le Noir, lias slandered me. Oh, 
 the villian ! He is a base slanderer ! Percy get up this 
 moment and challenge Le Noir I I cannot breathe freely 
 until it is done r exclaimed CapitoLi, inpetuously. 
 
 " Cousin Cap, duelling is obsolete ; scenes are passe ; 
 law settles everything ; and here there is scarcely ground 
 for action for libel. But be comforted, coz, for if this 
 comes to Uncle Hurricane^s ears, he'll make mince-meat of 
 him in no time. It is all in his line ; he'll chaw him right 
 up V 
 
 Percy, do you mean to say that you will not call out 
 that man asked Capitola, drawing her breath hardly. 
 
 Yes, coz." 
 " You won't fight him r 
 "No, coz/' 
 "You won't r 
 " No." 
 
 "Edwin Percy, look me straight in the face !" said Cap, 
 between her closed teeth. 
 
 "Well, I am looking you straight in the face ! straight 
 in the two blazing gray eyes, you little tempest in a teapot ! 
 —what then ?" 
 
 " Do I look as though I should be in earnest in what I 
 am about to speak ?" 
 
 " I should judge so." 
 
 " Then listen, and don't take your eyes off mine until I 
 am done spoaking !" 
 
 " Very vv^ell ; don't be long though, for it rather agitates 
 me." 
 
 "' I will not ! hear me, then : You say that you decline 
 to challenge Le Noir. Very good. I, on my j^art, bore 
 renounce all acqu;iintance witii you ! I Avill never sit down 
 at the same table ; enter the same room ; or breathe the 
 same air with you ; never speak to you ; listen to you ; or 
 
cap's rage. 
 
 451 
 
 recognize yoa iu any manner, until my deep -svrongs are 
 avenged in the pnnisliment of my slanderer^ so lielp me — " 
 Husli-sli ! don't swear, Cap ; it's profane and nnY7om- 
 anlv ; and nothing on earth bnt broken oaths ^'onld be the 
 result I" 
 
 But Cap was off. In an inst:mr she was down in the 
 yard, where her groom was holding he-r horse ready, in case 
 she wished to take her usual ride. 
 
 Where is Mr. John Stone ?" she asked. 
 
 '■•'Down at the kennels, -Mis-," answered the boy. 
 
 She jumped into her saddle, put whip to her horse 
 and flew over to the mansioii-hnuse and tlie kennels. 
 
 Slse pnllcd up liefore the door of the main building, 
 sprang from her saddle, threw a bridle to a man in attend- 
 ance, and rushed into tlie house and into the presence of 
 Mr. John Stone, who was busy in prescribing for an indis- 
 posed pointer. 
 
 He looked up in astonislmicnt, exclaiming : 
 
 '•'Hilloe I all the vritches I here's Cap I why where on 
 earth did you shoot from ? "What's up now ? You look as 
 if you were in a state of spontaneous combustion and 
 couldn't stand it another minute."^ 
 
 And I can't I and I won't ! John Stone, you must 
 call that man out I'^ 
 
 ^^What man. Cap — what the deuce do you mean T' 
 
 ^" You know well enough ! you do this to proyoke me I 
 I mean the man of whom you cautioned me this afternoon ! 
 the wretch who slandered me, the niece of your host !'' 
 Whe— cw V 
 Will you do it 9" 
 
 '••'Where's Percy ?" 
 
 " On the lounge, with an ice in one hand and a novel 
 in the other I I suppose it is no use mincing the matter, 
 John ; he is a — mere epicure I there is no fight in him ! It 
 is you who must vindicate your cousin^s honor 
 
4-52 
 
 cap's kage. 
 
 My cousin^s honor cannot need vindication ! it is 
 unquestioned and unquestionable V 
 
 No smooth words, if you please, cousin John ! Will 
 you, or will you not fight that man 
 
 Tut, Cap, no one really questions your honor ! That 
 man will get himself knocked into a cocked hat if he goes 
 around talking of an honest girl/' 
 
 A likely thing, when her own cousins and guests take 
 it so quietly 
 
 What would you have them do. Cap ? The longer 
 an affair of this kind is agitated, the more offensive it 
 becomes ! Besides, chivalry is out of date. The knights- 
 errant are all dead/^ 
 
 The MEK are all dead ! if any ever really lived !" cried 
 Cap, in a fury. ^' Heaven knows I am inclined to believe 
 them to have been a fabulous race like that of the masta- 
 don or the centaur ! / certainly never saw a creature that 
 deserved the name of man ! The very first of your race 
 was the meanest fellow that ever was heard of ! eat the 
 stolen apple, and when found out, laid one half of the 
 blame on his wife, and the other on his maker — ^ The 
 WOMAK whom THOU gavest me did so and so ! pah ! I 
 don^t wonder the Lord took a dislike to the race and sent 
 a flood to sweep them all off the face of the earth ! — I will 
 give you one more chance to retrieve your honor ! In one 
 word, now — will you fight that man 
 
 " My dear little cousin, I would do anything in reason 
 to vindicate the assailed manhood of my whole sex, but 
 really, now— — " 
 
 Will you fight that man ? — one word — yes or 
 
 no r 
 
 Tut, Cap ? you are a very reckless young woman ! 
 You — it's your nature — you are an incorrigible madcap ! 
 You bewitch a poor wretch until he doesn't know his head 
 from his heels ; puts his feet into his hat and covers his 
 Bcalp with his boots ! You are a will-o'-the-wisp who lures 
 
gap's eage. 
 
 453 
 
 a poor fellow on through woods, bogs and briars, until you 
 land him in the quicksands ! You whirl him around and 
 around until he grows dizzy and delirious, and talks at 
 random, and then you^d have him called out, you blood- 
 thirsty little vixen ! I tell you, Cousin Cap, if I were to 
 take up all the quarrels your hoydenism might lead me into, 
 I should have nothing else to do I" 
 Then you won't fight V 
 
 Can't little cousin ! I have a Av'jfe and faniily, which 
 are powerful checks upon a man's duelling impulses !" 
 
 " SiLEi^"CE ! you are no cousin of mine 1 no drop of your 
 sluggish blood stagnates in my veins ! no spark of the 
 liquid fire of my life's current burns in your torpid arteries, 
 else at this insult, would it set you in a flame ! Never dare 
 to call me cousin again^ recreant !" And so saying, she 
 flung herself out of the building and into her saddle, put 
 whip to her horse and galloped away home. 
 
 Now Mr. Stone had privately resolved to thrash Craven 
 Le ISToir ; but he did not deem it expedient to take Cap 
 into his confidence. As Capitola reached the horse-block, 
 her own groom came to take the bridle. 
 
 Jem," she said, as she jumped from her saddle, — 
 '^put Gyp up and then come to my room, I have a message 
 to send by yoa." 
 
 And then with burning cheeks and flashing eyes, she 
 went to her own sanctum, and after taking off her habit, 
 did the most astounding thing that ever a woman of the 
 nineteenth or any former century attempted — she wrote a 
 challenge to Craven Le Noir — charging him with falsehood 
 in having maligned her honor ; demanding from him '^'the 
 satisfaction of a gentleman;" and requesting him as the 
 challenged party, to name the time, place and weapons 
 with which he would meet her. 
 
 By the time she had written, sealed and directed this 
 warlike defiance, her young groom made his appearance. 
 
oab's bags. 
 
 Jem/' slie asked^ do you know tlie way to the Hid- 
 den House ?" 
 
 Yes, Miss, sure.'' 
 
 Then take this note thither, ask for Mr. Le Noir, put 
 it into his hands, and say that you are directed to wait an 
 answer. And listen, you need not mention to any one in 
 this house, where you are going ; nor when you i-eturn, 
 where you have been ; but bring the answer you may get 
 directly to this room, where you will find me." 
 
 Yes, Miss," said the boy, who was off like a flying 
 Mercury. 
 
 Capitola threw herself into her chair to spend the slow 
 hours until the boy's return, as well as her fierce impatience 
 and forced inaction would permit. 
 
 At tea-time she was summoned ; but excused herself 
 j'rom going below upon a plea of indisposition. 
 
 ^' Which is perfectly true," she said to herself, since 
 I am utterly indisposed to go. And besides, I have sworn 
 never again to sit at the same table with my cousins, until 
 for the wrongs done me, I have received ample satisfac- 
 tion." 
 
OAPITOLA CAPS THE CLIMAX. 
 
 455 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIL 
 
 CAPITOLA CAPS THE CLIMAX. 
 
 " Oh I when she's angiy, she is keen and shrewd ; 
 She was a vixen when she went to school ; 
 And though she is but little she is fierce." 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 It was quite late in the evening when Jem, her messen- 
 ger, returned. 
 
 Have you an answer she impetuonsly demanded, 
 rising to meet him as lie entered. 
 
 Yes, Miss, here it is,^^ replied the boy, handing a 
 neatly folded, highly perfumed little note. 
 
 ^^Go," said Cap, cui-tly, as she received it. 
 
 And when the boy had bowed and withdrawn, she threw 
 herself into a chair, and with little respect for the pretty 
 device of the pierced heart with which the note was sealed, 
 she tore it open and devoured its contents. 
 
 Why did Capitola's cheeks and lips blanch, white as 
 death ? Why did her eyes contract and glitter like stilet- 
 tos ? Why was her breath drawn hard and laboriously 
 through clenched teeth and livid lips ? 
 
 That note wa? couched in the most insultinjr terms. 
 
 o 
 
 Capitola's first impulse was to rend the paper to atoms 
 and grind those atoms to powder beneath her heel. But a 
 second inspiration changed her purpose. 
 
 " 'No, no, no, I will not destroy you, precious little note ! 
 No legal document involving the ownership of the largest 
 estate, no cherished love-letter filled with vows of undying 
 affection, shall be more carefully guarded ! 'Next to my 
 heart, shall you lie. My shield and buckler, shall you be I 
 my sure defensB and justification ! I know what to do with 
 
456 
 
 OAPITOLA CAPS THE CLIMAX. 
 
 you, my precious liUle jewel ! You are the warrant for 
 the punishment of that man, signed by his own hand/^ 
 And so saying Capitola carefully deposited the note in her 
 bosom. 
 
 Then she lighted her chamber lamp, and taking it with 
 her, went down stairs to her uncle's bedroom. 
 
 Taking advantage of the time when she knew he would 
 be absorbed in a game of chess with Jobn Stone, and she 
 should be safe from interruption for several hours if she 
 wished, she went to Major Warfield^s little armory in the 
 closet adjoining his room, opened his pistol-case and took 
 from it a pair of revolvers, closed and locked the case, and 
 withdrew and hid the key tbat tbey might not cbance 
 to be missed until she should have time to replace them. 
 
 Then she hurried back into her own chamber, locked 
 the pistols up in her own drawer, and wearied out with so 
 much excitement, prepared to go to rest. Here a grave 
 and unexpected obstacle met her ; she had always been 
 accustomed to kneel and offer up to Heaven her evening's 
 tribute of praise and thanksgiving for the mercies of the 
 day, and prayers for protection and blessing through the 
 night. 
 
 Kow she knelt as usual, but thanksgiving and prayer 
 seemed frozen on her lips. How could she praise or pray 
 with such a purpose as sbe had in her heart ? 
 
 For the first time Capitola doubted the perfect right- 
 eousness of that purpose which was of a character to arrest 
 her prayers upon her lips. 
 
 With a start of impatience and a heavy sigh, she sprang 
 up and hurried into bed. 
 
 She did not sleep, but lay tossing from side to side in 
 feverish excitement the whole night — having, in fact, a 
 terrible battle between her own fierce passions and her 
 newly-awakened conscience. 
 
 Nevertheless, she arose by daybreak in the morning, 
 dressed herself, went and unlocked her drawer, took out the 
 
CAPITOLA CAPS THE OLIMAX. 
 
 45? 
 
 pistols, carefully loaded them, and laid tliera down for 
 service. 
 
 Then she went down stairs, where the servants were only 
 just beginning to stir, and sent for her groom, Jem, whom 
 she ordered to saddle her pony, and also get a horse for him- 
 self, to attend her in a morning ride. 
 
 After which she returned up stairs, put on her riuing- 
 habit, and buckled around her waist a morocco belt, into 
 which she stuck the two revolvers. She then throw around 
 ber shoulders a short circular cape that concealed the 
 w^eapons, and put on her hat and gloves and went below. 
 
 She found her little groom already at tbe door with the 
 horses. She sprang into her saddle, and, bidding Jem 
 follow her, took the road towards Tip Top. 
 
 She knew that Mr. Le Noir was in the habit of riding 
 to the village every morning, and she determined to meet 
 him. She knew, from tbe early hour of the day, that he 
 could not possibly be ahead of her, and she rode on slowly, 
 to give him an opportunity to overtake her. 
 
 Probably Craven Le Noir Vv'as later that morning than 
 usual, for Capitola had reached the entrance of the village 
 before she heard the sound of his horse's feet approaching 
 behind her. 
 
 She did not wish that their rencontre should be in the 
 streets of the village, so she instantly wheeled her horse and 
 galloped back to meet him. 
 
 As both were riding at full speed, they soon met. 
 
 She first drew rein, and, standing in his way accosted 
 him with : 
 
 Mr. Le ISToir P 
 
 Your most obedient. Miss Black," he said, with a 
 deep bow. 
 
 I happen to be without father or brother to protect 
 me from affroiit, sir, and my uncle is an invalid veteran 
 whom I will not trouble. I am, therefore, under the novel 
 necessity of fighting my own battles. Yesterday, sir, I 
 
458 
 
 CAPITOLA CAPS THE CLIMAX. 
 
 sent you a note demauding satisfaction for a heinous slan- 
 der you circulated against me. You replied by an insult- 
 ing note. You do not escape punishment so ! Here are 
 two pistols ; both are loaded ; take either one of them : for, 
 sir, we have met, and now we do not part until one of us 
 falls from the horse I" 
 
 And so saying, she rode up to him and offered him the 
 choice of the pistols. 
 
 He laughed — partly in surprise and partly in admiration 
 as he said, with seeming good humor : 
 
 Miss Black, you are a very charming young woman, 
 and delightfully original and piquant in all your ideas ; but 
 you outrage all the laws that govern the duello. You know 
 that, as the challenged party, I have the right to the choice 
 of time, place and arms. I made that choice yesterday. 
 I renew it to-day. When you accede to the terms of the 
 meeting, I shall endeavor to give you all the satisfaction 
 you demand. Good morning. Miss.'' 
 
 And with a deep bow, even to the flaps of his saddle, he 
 rode past her. 
 
 " That base insult again !" cried Capitola, with the 
 blood rushing to her face. 
 
 Then lifting her voice, she again accosted him : 
 
 Mr. Le Noir 
 He turned, with a smile. 
 
 She threw one of the pistols on the ground near him, 
 saying : 
 
 " Take that up and defend yourself.'' 
 He waved his hand in negation, bowed, smiled, and 
 rode on. 
 
 Mil. Le Noir !" she called in a peremptory tone. 
 Once more he turned. 
 
 She raised her pistol, took deliberate aim at his white 
 forehead, and fired — 
 
 Bang ! bang ! bang ! bang ! ba^tg I bang 1 
 
CAPITOLA CAPS THE CLIMAX. 
 
 459 
 
 - -Six times without an instant^s intermission, until her 
 revolver was sj^ent. 
 
 When the smoke cleared iaway, a terrible vision met her 
 eyes. 
 
 It was Craven Le Noir with his face covered witli blood, 
 reeling in his saddle, from which he soon dropped to the 
 ground. 
 
 In falling, his foot remained hanging in the stirrup. 
 The well-trained cavalry horse stood perfectly still, though 
 trembling in a panic of terror, from which he might at 
 any moment start to run, dragging the helpless body after 
 him. 
 
 Capitola saw this danger, and not being cruel, sh^ 
 tempered justice with mercy ; threw down her spent pistol ; 
 dismounted from her boise ; went up to the fallen man ; 
 disengaged his foot from the stirrup, and taking hold of 
 his shoulders, tried with all her might to drag the still 
 breathing form from the dusty road where it lay in danger 
 of being run over by wagons, to the green bank where it 
 might lie in comparative safety. 
 
 But the heavy form was too much for her single 
 strength. And calling her terrified groom to assist her, 
 they removed the body. 
 
 Capitola then remounted her horse, and galloped rap- 
 idly into the village, and up to the ladies' entrance of 
 the hotel, where after sendiiig for the proprietor, she said : 
 
 ^^I have just been shooting Craven Le Noir for slander- 
 ing me ; he lies by the roadside at the entrance of the vil- 
 lage ; you had better send somebody to pick him up." 
 Miss cried the astounded inn-keeper. 
 
 Capitola distinctly repeated her words, and then leav- 
 ing the inn-keeper, transfixed with consternation, she 
 crossed the street and entered a magistrate's ofiBce, where a 
 little old gentleman, with a pair of green spectacles resting 
 on his hooked nose^ sat at a writing-table, giving some 
 
460 
 
 CAPITOL A CAPS THE CLIMAX. 
 
 directions to a constable, who was standing hat in hand 
 before him. 
 
 CapitoL^ waited until this functionary had his orders 
 and a written paper, and had left the office, and the mag- 
 istrate was alone, before she walked up to the desk and 
 stood before him. 
 
 *^ Well, well, young woman ! Well, well, what do you 
 want inquired the old gentleman, impatiently looking 
 up from folding his papers. 
 
 " I have come to give myself up for shooting Craven Le 
 Noir, who slandered me," answered Capitola, quietly. 
 
 The old man let fall his haudfuls of papers, i-aised his 
 head and stared at her over the tops of his green specta- 
 cles. 
 
 What did you say, young woman ?" he asked, in the 
 tone of one who doubted liis own ears. 
 
 I say that I liave forestalled an arrest by coming here 
 to give myself up for the shooting of a dastard who slandered, 
 insulted, and refused to give me satisfaction," answered 
 Capitola, very distinctly. 
 
 Am I awake ? Do I hear aright ? Do you mean to 
 say that you have killed a man asked the dismayed 
 magistrate. 
 
 Oh ! I can't say as to the killing ! I shot him off his 
 horse, and then sent Mr. Merry and his men to pick him 
 up, while I came here to answer for myself !" 
 
 Unfortunate girl! and how can you answer for such 
 a dreadful deed !" exclaimed the utterly confounded magis- 
 trate. 
 
 *^'0h, as to the dreadfnlncss of the deed, lhat depends 
 on circumstances,'"' said Cap, and I can answer for it very 
 well. He made addresses to me ; I refused him. He slan- 
 dered me ; I challenged him. He insulted me ; I shot 
 him." 
 
 Miserable young woman, if this be proved true, I shall 
 have to commit you 1" 
 
CAPITOL A CAPS THE CLIMAX. 
 
 461 
 
 Just as yon please,'' said Cap, but bless your soul, 
 that won't help Craven Le Noir a single bit 
 
 As she spoke several persons entered the oflBlce in a state 
 of high excitement — all talking at once, saying : 
 
 That is the girl !" 
 
 Yes, that is her V 
 
 She is Miss Black, old Warfield's neice/ 
 
 Yes, he said she was,'' etc., etc., etc. 
 
 What is all this, neighbors, what is all this ?" inquired 
 the troubled magistrate, rising in his place. 
 
 Why, sir, there's been a gentleman, Mr. Craven Le 
 Noir, shot. He has been taken to the Antlers, where he 
 lies in articulus moi^tis, and we wish him to be confronted 
 with Miss Capitola Black, the young woman here present, 
 that he may indentify her, whom he accuses of having fired 
 six charges into him, before his death. She needn't deny 
 it, because he is ready to swear to her !" said Mr. Merry, 
 who constituted himself spokesman. 
 
 She accuses herself," said the magistrate in dismay. 
 
 Then, sir, had she not better be taken at once to the 
 presence of Mr. Le Noir, who may not have many minutes 
 to live !" 
 
 Yes, come along," said Cap. I only gave myself up 
 to wait for this ; and as he is already at hand, let's go and 
 have it all over, for I have been riding about in this frosty 
 morning air, for three hours, and I have got a good appetite, 
 and I want to go home to breakfast." 
 
 " I am afraid, young woman, you will scarcely get home 
 to breakfast this morning," said Mr. Merry. 
 
 ''We'll see that presently," answered Cap, composedly, 
 as they all left the office, and crossed the street to the Ant- 
 lers. 
 
 They were conducted by the landlord to a chamber on 
 the first floor, where upon a bed lay stretched, almost with- 
 out breath or motion, the form of Craven Le l^oir. His 
 face was still covered with blood, that the bystanders had 
 
i62 
 
 CAPITOLA CAPS THE CLIMAX. 
 
 scrupulously refused to wash off, until tlie arrival of the 
 magistrate. His complexion as far as could be seen, was 
 very pale. He Avas tlioro uglily prostrated, if not actually 
 dying. 
 
 Around liis bed were gathered the village doctor^, the 
 landlady, and several maidservants. 
 
 The squire has come, sir; are you able to speak 
 him asked the landlord, approaching the bed. 
 
 ''Yes — let him swear me,^^ feebly replied the wounded 
 man, '' and theu send for a clergyman/' 
 
 The landlady immediately left to send for Mr. Good- 
 win, and t!ie magistrate approached the head of the bed, 
 and speaking solemnly, exhorted the wounded man, as he 
 expected soon to give an account of the works done in his 
 bod}^, to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but 
 the truth, without reserve, malice or exaggeration, both as 
 to the deed, and its provocation. 
 
 I w^ill, I will, for I have sent for a minister and I in- 
 tend to try to make my peace with Heaven,*' replied Le Noir. 
 
 The magistrate then directed Oapitola to come and take 
 her stand at the foot of the bed where the wounded man, 
 who was lying on his back, could see her without turning. 
 
 Cap came as she was commanded, and stood thcve with 
 some irrepressible and incomprehensible mischief gleaming 
 out from under her long eye-lashes and from the corners of 
 her dimpled lips. 
 
 The magistrate then administered the oath to Craven 
 Le Noir, and bade him look upon Oapitola and give his 
 evidence. 
 
 He did so, and under the terrors of a guilty conscience 
 and of expected death, his evidence partook more of the 
 nature of a confession than an accusation. He testified 
 that he had addressed Oapitola, and had been rejected by 
 her; then, under the influence of evil motives, he had cir- 
 culated insinuations against her honor, which were utterly 
 unjustifiable by fact ; ihe, seeming to have heard of them; 
 
CAPITOLA CAPS THE CLIMAX. 
 
 4G3 
 
 took the strcange course of challenging liim — just as if she 
 had been a man ; lie could not of course meet a lady in a 
 duel, but he bad taken advantage of the teclinical phrase- 
 ology of the challenged party, as to time, place and wea- 
 pons, to offer her a deep insult ; then she had waylaid him 
 on the highway, offered him his choice of a pair of rcvol- 
 yers, and told him, that having met, they should not part 
 imtil one or the other fell from the horse ; he had again 
 laughingly refused the encounter except upon the insulting- 
 terms he had before proposed ; — she had then tlirown him 
 one of the pistols, bidding him defend himself ; — he had 
 laughingly passed her when she called him by name, he 
 turned and she fired— six times in .succession and he fell. 
 He knew no more until he was brought to his present room. 
 He said in conclusion, he did not wish that the young girl 
 should be prosecuted as she had only avenged her own 
 honor ; and that he hoped his death would be taken by her 
 and her friends, as a sufficient expiation of his offenses 
 against her ; and lastly, he requested that he might be left 
 alone with the minister. 
 
 " Bring that unhappy young woman over to my office, 
 Ketchem," said the magistrate, addressing himself to a 
 constable. Then turning to the landlord, he said : 
 
 " Sir, it would be a charity in you to put a messenger 
 on horseback and send him to Hurricane Hall for Major 
 Warfield, who will have to enter into a recognizance for 
 Miss Black's appearance at court/' 
 
 ^^Stop," said Cap, don't be too certain of that ! ' Be 
 always sure you're right — then go ahead !' Is not any one 
 here cool enough to reflect that if I had fired six bullets at 
 that man's forehead, and every one had struck, I should 
 have blown his head to the sky ? — Will not somebody at 
 once wash his face and see how deep the wounds are ?"' 
 
 The doctor who had been restrained by others now took 
 a sponge and water and cleaned the face of Le N"oir, which 
 was found to be well peppered with split peas ! 
 
464: 
 
 CAPITOLA CAPS THE CLIMAX. 
 
 Cap looked around^ and seeing the astonished looks of 
 the good people, burst into an irrepressible fit of laughter, 
 saying, as soon as she had got breath enough : 
 
 Upon my word, neighbors, you look more shocked, if 
 not actually more disappointed, to find that, after all, he is 
 not killed, and there'll be no spectacle, than you did at first 
 when you thought murder had been done/' 
 
 ^' Will you be good enough to explain this, young 
 woman said the magistrate, severely. 
 
 '^Certainly, for your worship seems as much disap- 
 pointed as others !" said Cap. Then turning towards the 
 group around the bed, she said : 
 
 *^You have heard Mr. Le ISToir's Mast dying speech 
 and confession,' as be supposed it to be ; and you know the 
 maddening provocations that imflamed my temper agaiust 
 him. Last night, after having received his insulting 
 answer to my challenge, there was evil in ni}^ heart, I do 
 assure you ! I possessed myself of my uncle's revolvers, 
 and resolved to waylay him this morning, and force him to 
 
 give me satisfaction, or if he refused well, no matter ! 
 
 I tell you, there was danger in me ! — But, before retiring 
 to bed at night it is my habit to say my prayers ; now the 
 practice of prayer and the purpose of ' red-handed violence ' 
 cannot exist in the same person at the same time. I 
 wouldn't sleep without 23raying, and I couldn't pray with- 
 out giving up my thoughts of fatal vengeance upon Craven 
 Le Noir. So at last I made up my mind to spare his life, 
 and teach him a lesson. The next morning I drew the 
 charges of the revolvers, and re-loaded them with poor 
 powder and dried j)eas. Everything else has happened 
 just as he has told you. He has received no harm, except 
 in being terribly frightened, and in having his beauty 
 spoiled ! — and as for that, didn't I offer him one of the 
 pistols, and expose my own face to similar damage ? — for 
 I'd scorn to take advantage of any one V said Cap, laugh- 
 ing. 
 
OAPITOLA CAPS THE CLIMAX. 
 
 465 
 
 Craven Le Noir liad now raised himself up in a sitting 
 posture, and was looking around with an expression of 
 countenance which was a strange hlending of relief at tliis 
 unexpected respite from the grave and intense mortification 
 at finding himself in the ridicalous position in which the 
 address of Capitola and his own weak nerves, cowardice, 
 and credulity had placed him. 
 
 Cap went up to him and said, in a consoling voice : 
 
 ''^Come ! thank Heaven that yon are not going to die 
 this bout. Fm glad you repented and told the truth ; and 
 I hope you may live long enough to offer Heaven a truer 
 repentance than that whicli is the mere effect of fright. 
 For I tell you plainly that if it had not been for the grace 
 of the Lord acting upon my heart last night, your soul might 
 have been in Hades now.''' 
 
 Craven Le Tsoir shut his eyes, groaned, and fell back 
 overpowered by the reflection. 
 
 ^' Now, please your Worship, may T go home asked 
 Cap, demurely po^oping down a mock courtesy to the magis- 
 trate. 
 
 ''Yes — go ! go ! go ! go V said that oSicer,with an expres- 
 sion as though he considered our Cap an individual of the 
 animal kingdom whom neither Buffon nor any other natural 
 philosopher had ever classified, and who, as a creature of 
 unknown habits, might sometimes be dangerous. 
 
 Cap immediately availed herself of the permission, and 
 went out to look for her servant and horses. 
 
 But Jem, the first moment he had found himself un- 
 watched, had put out as fast as he could fly to Hurricane 
 Hall, to inform Major Warfield of what had occurred. 
 
 And Capitola, after losing a great deal of time in look- 
 ing for him, mounted her horse and was just about to start, 
 when who should ride up in hot haste but Old Hurricane, 
 attended by Wool. 
 
 "Stop there !" he shouted, as he saw Cap. 
 
466 
 
 CAPITOL A CAPS THE CLIMAX. 
 
 She obeyed ; and he sprung from his horse with the 
 tigility of youth, and helped her to descend from hers. 
 
 Then drawing her arm within his own, he led her into 
 the parlor, and putting an unusual resti'aint upon himself, 
 he ordered her to tell him all about the affair. 
 
 Cap sat down and gave him the whole history from 
 beginning to end. 
 
 Old Hurricane could not sit still to hear. He strode 
 up and down the room, striking his stick upon the floor, 
 and uttering inarticulate sounds of rage and defiance. 
 
 When Cap had finished her story he suddenly stopped 
 before her, brought down the point of his stick with a 
 resounding thump upon the floor, and exclaimed : 
 
 Dcmmy, you New York newsboy, will you never be a 
 woman ? Why the demon didn't you tell me, sirrah ? I 
 would have called the. fellow out and chastised him to your 
 heart's content. Hang it, Miss, answ^er me and say." 
 
 Because you are on the invalid list and I am in sound 
 condition and capable of taking my own part," said Cap. 
 
 "Then, answer me this: while you loere taking your 
 own part, why the foul fiend didn't you pepper him with 
 something sharper than dried peas ?" 
 
 ^'l think he is quite as severely punished in suffering 
 from extreme terror an.d intense mortification and public 
 ridicule," said Cap. 
 
 "And now, uncle, I have not eaten a single blessed 
 mouthful this morning, and I am hungry enough to eat up 
 Gyp, or to satisfy Patty." 
 
 Old Hurricane, permitting his excitement to subside in 
 a fev/ expiring grunts, rang the bell and gave orders for 
 breakfast to be served. 
 
 And after that meal was over, he set out with his niece 
 for Hurricane Hall. 
 
 And upon arriving at home, he addressed a letter to 
 Mr. Lc Noir, to the effect that as soon as the latter should 
 
BLACK Donald's last atte:\ipt. 
 
 4G7 
 
 Lave recovered from tlie effect of his friglit and mortiiica- 
 tion, he, Major Warfield should demand and expect satis- 
 faction. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 BLACK DOXALD's LAST ATTEMPT. 
 
 *' Wlio can express the horror of that night, 
 
 When darkness lent his robes to monster fear? 
 And heaven's black mantle, banishing the light, 
 
 Made evcrvthing in fearful form appear.'' — Brandon. 
 
 Let it not be supposed that Black Donald had forgotten 
 his promise to Colonel Le Xoir, or ^as indifferent to its 
 performance. 
 
 But many perilous failures had taught him caution. 
 
 He had watclied and vraylaid Capitola in her rides. But 
 the girl seemed to bear a charjued safety ; for never once had 
 he caught sight of lier cxce})t in company with her groom 
 and ^Mtli Craven Le Xoir. And very soon by eaves-drop- 
 ping on these occasions, he learned the secret design of the 
 son to forestall the father, and run off with the heiress. 
 
 And as Black Donald did not foresee what success Craven 
 Le Xoir might liave with Capitola, he felt the more urgent 
 necessity for prompt aetion on his own part. 
 
 Ho might indeed have brought his men and attacked 
 and overcome Capit'jla's atrendnnts, in open day ; but the 
 enterprise must needs have been attended with great blood- 
 sheet and loss of life, whicli would luivo made a sensation in 
 the neighborhood, that Black Donald, in the present state 
 of his fortunes, w;'- i no means ambitious of daring. 
 
 In a word, li. an act of unparalleled violence 
 
 been attempted^ the better it succeeded the grgciter would 
 
468 
 
 BLACK Donald's last aitempt. 
 
 have been the indignation of the people, and the whole 
 country Avould probably have risen and armed themselves, 
 and hunted the outlaws, as so many wild beasts, with 
 horses and hounds. 
 
 Therefore Black Donald preferred quietly to abduct his 
 victim, so as to leave no trace of her taking off,^^ but to 
 allow it to be supposed that she had eloped. 
 
 He resolved to undertake this adventure alone, though 
 to himself personally this plan was even more dangerous 
 than the other. 
 
 He determined to gain access to her chamber, secrete 
 himself anywhere in the room, (except under the bed, 
 Avhere his instincts informed him that Oa2)itoLi every night 
 looked,) and when the household should be buried in re- 
 pose, steal out upon her, overpower, gag, and carry her olf, 
 in the silence of the night, leaving no trace of his own pres- 
 ence behind. 
 
 By means of one of his men, who went about unsus- 
 pected among the negroes, buying up mats and baskets, 
 that the latter were in the habit of making for sale, he 
 learned that Oapitola occupied the same remote chamber in 
 the oldest part of the house'; but that a guest slept in the 
 room next, and another in the one opposite hers. And 
 that the house was besides full of visitors from the city, 
 who had come down to spend the sporting season, and that 
 they Avere hunting all day and carousing all night from one 
 week^s end to another. 
 
 On hearing this. Black Donald quickly comprehended 
 that it was no time to attempt the abduction of the maiden 
 with the least probability of success. All would be risked, 
 and most probably lost in the endeavor. 
 
 He resolved, therefore, to wait until the house should 
 be cleai- of compaiiy, and the household fallen into their 
 accustomed carelessness and monotony. 
 
 He had to wait much longer than he had reckoned upon 
 — through October and through November^ when he first 
 
BLACK DONALD'S LAST ATTEMPT. 
 
 469 
 
 heard of and laughed over Cap's '^dueP^ with Craven Le 
 Noir, and congratulated himself upon the fact that that 
 rival was no longer to be feared. He had also to wait 
 through two-thirds of the month of December because a 
 party had come down to enjoy a short season of fox-hunt- 
 ing. They went away just before Christmas. 
 
 And then at last came Black Donald's opportunity ! 
 And a line opportunity it was ! Had Satan himself en- 
 gaged to furnish him with one to order, it could not have 
 been better ! 
 
 The reader must know, that throughout Virginia the 
 Christmas week, from the day after Christmas until the 
 day after New Year, is the negroes' saturnalia ! There are 
 Uiually eight days of incessant dancing, feasting and frol- 
 icking from quarter to quarter, and from barn to barn. 
 Then the banjo, the fiddle and the bones," are heard 
 from morning until night, and from night until morning. 
 
 And nowhere was this annual octave of festivity held 
 more sacred than at Hurricane Hall. It was the will of 
 Major Warfield that they should have their full satisfaction 
 out of their seven days' carnival. He usually gave a dinner 
 party on Christmas day, after which his people were free 
 until the third of January. 
 
 ^' Demmy, mum !" he would say to Mrs. Condiment, 
 " they wait on us fifty-one weeks in the year, and it's hard 
 if we can't wait on ourselves the fifty-second !" 
 
 Small thanks to Old Hurricane for his self-denial ! He 
 did nothing for himself or others, and Mrs. Condiment and 
 Capitola had a hot time of it in serving him. Mrs. Condi- 
 ment had to do all the cooking and housework. And Cap 
 had to perform most of the duties of Major Warfield's valet. 
 And that was the way in which Old Hurricane waited on 
 liimself. 
 
 It happened^ therefore, that about the middle of the 
 Christmas week, being Wednesday, the twenty-eighth of 
 December, all the house-servants and farm-laborers from 
 
m 
 
 BLACK DONALD'S LAST ATTEMPT. 
 
 Hurricane Hall went off in a body to a banjo bre:)k-r!own 
 given at a farm five miles across the countr3\ 
 
 And Major Warfield, Mrs. Condiment and Capitola were 
 the only living beings left in the old bouse tbat niglit. 
 
 Black Donald, who bad been prowling about the premises 
 evening after evening, watching his opportunity to efCcct 
 his nefarious object, soon discovered the outward bound 
 stampede of the negroes, and the unprotected state in which 
 the old house, for that night only, would be left. And he 
 determined to take advantage of the circumstances to 
 consummate his wicked purpose. 
 
 In itg then defenceless condition, he could easily have 
 mustered his force and carried off his prize without imme- 
 diate personal risk. But, as we said before, he eschewed 
 violence, as being likely to provoke after effects of a too fatal 
 character. 
 
 He resolved rather at once to risk his own personal safety 
 in the quieter plan of abduction which he had formed. 
 
 He determined that as soon as it should be dark, he 
 would watch his opportunity to enter the house, steal to 
 Cap's chamber, secrete himself in a closet, and when all 
 should be quiet, ^^in the dead waste and middle of the 
 night,'^ he would come out, master her, sto]) her mouth, 
 and carry her off. 
 
 When it became quite dark he approached the house, 
 and hid himself under the steps beneath the back door 
 leading from the hall into the garden, to watch his oppor- 
 tunity of entering. He soon found that his enterprise 
 required great patience as well as courage. He had to wait 
 more than two hours before he heard the door unlocked 
 and opened. 
 
 He then peered out from his hiding-place, and saw Old 
 Hurricane taking his way out towards the garden. 
 
 ^Tow was his time to slip unperceived into the house. 
 He stealthily came out of this hiding-place, crept up the 
 portico gtairs to the back door, noiselessly turned the latch, 
 
BLACK DONALD 5 LA^T ATTEMPT. 
 
 471 
 
 entered^ and closed it behind liim. He had just time to 
 onen a side door on his right hand^ and conceal himself in 
 a wood closet under the stairs-, when he heard the footsteps 
 of Old Hurricane returning^. 
 
 The old man came in. and Black Donald laughed to 
 himself to hear with what caution he locked, bolted and 
 barred the doors to keep out house-breakers I 
 
 Ah-, old fellow I you are fastening the stable after ihe 
 horse has been stolen I'' said Black Donald todiimself. 
 
 ^-^s soon as Old Hurricane had pa.^sed by the closet in 
 which the outlaw was concealed, and had gone into the 
 parlor. Black Donald determined to risk the ascent into 
 Capitola's chamber. Prom the description given by his 
 men, who had once succeeded in finding their vray thither^ 
 he knew very wtll where to go. 
 
 Xoiselessly, therefore^ he left his place of concealment, 
 and crept out to reconnoitre the hall, which he fotind 
 deserted. 
 
 Old Hurricane's shawl, hat and walkin2:-stick were 
 deposited in one corner. In case of being met on the 
 way, he put the hat on his head, wrapped the shawl around 
 his shotilders, and took the stick in his hand. 
 
 His forethought proved to be serviceable. He went 
 through the hall and tip the first flight of stairs without 
 interruption : but on going along the hall of the second 
 story he met Mrs. Condiment coming out of Old Hurri- 
 cane's room. 
 
 '"''Your slippers are on the hearth, your gown is at the 
 fire and the water is boiling to make your punch, Major 
 TTarfield," said the old lady, in passing. 
 
 ''Umph, umph, umph,"' grunted Black Donald in 
 reply. 
 
 The housekeeper then bade him good-night, saying 
 that she was going at once to her room. 
 
 ^^Umph!'-' assented Black Donald. And so they 
 parted, and this peril was passed. 
 
4:72 BLACK DONALD S LAST ATTEMPT. 
 
 Black Donald went np the second flight of stairs aiid 
 then down a back passage and a narrow staircase and along 
 a corridor and through several untenanted rooms, and into 
 another passage, and finally through a side door leading 
 into Capitola's chamber. 
 
 Here he looked around for a safe hiding-place — there 
 was a high bedstead curtained ; two deep windows also cur- 
 tained ; two closets ; a dressing bureau, work stand, wash 
 stand and two arm-chairs. The forethought of little Pitapat 
 had caused her to kindle a fire on the hearth and place a 
 waiter of refreshments on the work stand, so as to make all 
 comfortable before she had left with the other negroes to go 
 to the banjo breakdown. 
 
 Among the edibles. Pitapat had been careful to leave a 
 small bottle of brandy, a pitcher of cream, a few eggs and 
 some spice, saying to herself, " Long as it was Christmas 
 times Miss Catterpillar might want a sup of egg-nog quiet to 
 herself, jes as much as ole marse did his whiskey punch" — 
 and never fancying that her young mistress would require a 
 more delicate lunch than her old mastei". 
 
 Black Donald laughed as he saw this outlay, and remark- 
 ing that the young occupant of the chamber must have an 
 appetite of her own, he put the neck of the brandy bottle 
 to his lips and took what he called ^'a hearty swig.^' 
 
 Then vowing that old Hurricane knew what good liquor 
 was, he replaced the bottle and looked around to find the 
 best place for his concealment. 
 
 He soon determined to hide himself behind the thick 
 folds of the window curtain nearest the door, so that imme- 
 diately after the entrance of Capitola he could glide to the 
 door, lock it, withdraw the key and have the girl at once in 
 his power. 
 
 He took a second swig ^' at the brandy bottle, and then 
 went nito his place of concealment to wait events. 
 
 That same honr Capitola was her nucleus partner in a 
 prolonged game of chess. It was near eleven o'clock before 
 
BLACK Donald's last attempt. 
 
 473 
 
 Cap heartily tired of the battle, permitted herself to be 
 beaten in order to get to bed. 
 
 With a satisfied chuckle, Old Hurricane arose from his 
 seat, lighted two bed-chamber lamps, gave one to Capitola, 
 took the other himself, and started off for his room, fol- 
 lowed by Cap as far as the head of the first flight of stairs, 
 where she bade him good-night. 
 
 She waited until she saw him enter his room, heard him 
 lock his door ou the inside, and throw himself down heav- 
 ily into his arm-chair, and then she went on her own way. 
 
 She hurried up the second flight of stairs, and along 
 the narrow passages, empty rooms, steep steps, and dreary 
 halls, until she reached the door of her own dormitory. 
 
 She turned the latch and entered the room. 
 
 The first thing that met her sight was the waiter of 
 provisions upon the stand. And at this fresh instance of 
 her little maid's forethought, she burst into an uncontroll- 
 able fit of laughter. 
 
 .She did not see a dark figure glide from behind the 
 window curtains, steal to the door, turn the lock and with- 
 draw the key. 
 
 But still retaining her prejudice against the presence of 
 food in her bed-chamber, she lifted up the waiter in both 
 hands to carry it out into the passage, turned and stood 
 face to face with — Black Donald 1 
 
474 
 
 THE AWFUL PERIL OF CAPITOLA. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 THE AWFUL PERIL OF CAPITOLA. 
 
 "Out of this nettle, danger, 
 I'll pluck the flower, safety !" — Shakespeare. 
 
 Capitola's blood seemed to turn to ice, and her form to 
 Btone at the sight ! Her first impulse was to scream and 
 let fall the waiter ! She controlled herself and repressed 
 the scream, though she was very near dropping the waiter. 
 
 Black Donald looked at her and laughed aloud at her 
 consternation, saying with a chuckle : 
 
 You did not expect to see me here to-night, did you 
 now, my dear T' 
 
 She gazed at him in a silent panic for a moment. 
 
 Then her faculties, that had been suddenly dispersed 
 by the shock, as suddenly rallied to her rescue. 
 
 In one moment she understood her real position. 
 
 Black Douald' had locked her in with himself, and held 
 the key ; so she could not hope to get out. 
 
 The loudest scream that she might utter would never 
 reach the distant chamber of Major Warfield, or the still 
 more remote apartment of Mrs. Condiment ; so she could 
 not hope to bring any one to her assistance. 
 
 She was therefore entirely in the power of Black 
 Donald. She fully comprehended this, and said to her- 
 self : 
 
 Now, my dear Cap, if you don^t look sharp your hour 
 is come ! Nothing on earth will save you, Cap, but your 
 own wits ! for if ever I saw mischief in any one's face, it is 
 in that fellow^s that is eating you up with his great eyes at 
 the same time that he is laughing at you with his big 
 mouth ! Now, Cap, my little man, be a woman ! don't 
 
TH25 AWFtrL PERIL OF CAi'ITOLA. 
 
 4Y5 
 
 jou stick at trifles ! Think of Jael and Sisera I Think of 
 Judith and Holofcrnes I And the devil and Doctor Faust, 
 if necessary, and don't you blench I All stratagems are 
 fair in love and war — especially in war, and most espL-cially 
 in such a war as this is likely to be — a contest in close 
 quarters for dear life I'^ 
 
 All this passed through her mind in one moment, and 
 in the next her plan was formed. 
 
 Setting her waiter down upon the table, and throwing 
 herself into one of the arm-chairs, she said : 
 
 Well, upon my word, I think a gentleman might let a 
 lady know when he means to pay her a domiciliary visit at 
 midnight I'' 
 
 ^'Upon mi/ Old J / think you are very cool P replied 
 Black Donald, throwing himself into the second arni-cliair 
 on the other side of the stand of refreshments. 
 
 ^' People are likely to be cool on a December night, with 
 the thermometer at zero, and the ground three feet under 
 the snow,'' said Cap, nothing daunted. 
 
 " Cap: tola, I admire you ! You are a cucumler. That's 
 what you are, a cucumler ^ 
 
 A pickled one ?" asked Cap. 
 
 ''Yes ! and as pickled cucumbers are good to give one 
 an appetite, I think I shall fall to and eat." 
 
 ''Do so," said Cap, "for Heaven forbid that I should 
 fail in hospitality.'* 
 
 " Why, really, this looks as though you had expected a 
 visitor — doesn't it asked Black Donald, helping himself 
 to a huge slice of ham, and stretching his feet out towards 
 the fire. 
 
 "Well, yes, rather ; though, to say the truth, it was not 
 your reverence I expected," said Cap. 
 
 '^ Ah ! somebody else's reverence, eh ? Well, let them 
 come I I'll be ready for them I*' said the outlaw, pouring 
 out and quaffing a large glass of brandy. He drank it, set 
 down the glass, and turning to our little heroine, inquired : 
 
476 THE AWFUL PERIL OF CAPlTOLA. 
 
 ^' Capitola, did you ever have Craven Le Noir here to 
 supper with you 
 
 You insult me ! I scorn to reply said Cap. 
 
 " Whe-ew ! what long whiskers our Grimalkin^s got ! 
 You scorn to reply ! Then you really are not afraid of 
 me ?" asked the robber, rolling a great piece of cheese in 
 his mouth. 
 
 " Afraid of you ? — No, I guess not" replied Cap, with 
 a toss of her head. 
 
 " Yet, I might do you some harm/^ 
 
 ''But you wonV 
 
 '' Why won't IJ' 
 
 *' Because it won't pay.*' 
 
 ''Why won't it ?" 
 
 "Because you couldn't do me any harm, unless you 
 were to kill me, and you would gain nothing by my death, 
 except a few trinkets that you may have without." 
 
 '* Then, you are really not afraid of me ?" he asked, 
 taking another deep draught of brandy. 
 
 " Not a bit of it — I rather like you." 
 
 "Come, now, you're running a rig upon a fellow," said 
 the outlaw, winking, and depositing a huge chunk of bread 
 in his capacious jaws. 
 
 " No, indeed ! I liked you long before I saw you ! I 
 always did like people that made other people's hair stand 
 on end ! Don't you remember when you first came here 
 disguised as a peddler, though I did not know who you 
 were, when we were talking of Black Donald, and every- 
 body was abnsing him, except myself, I took his part, and 
 said that, for my part, I Ulced Black Donald, and wanted to 
 see him ?" 
 
 " Sure enough, my jewel, so you did ! and didn't I 
 bravely risk my life, by throwing off my disguise, to gratify 
 your laudable wish ?" 
 
 " So you did, my hero !" 
 
 " Ah^ but, well as you liked me, the moment you thought 
 
THE AWBUL PEEIL OF CAPITOLA. 47? 
 
 me in your power^ didn't you leap upon my shoulders like 
 a catamount^ and cling there, shouting to all the world to 
 come and help you, for that you had caught Black Donald, 
 and would die, before you would give him up ? Ah I you 
 little vampire, how you thirsted for my blood I And yoic 
 pretended to like me V said Black Donald, eyeing herfrom 
 head to foot, with a sly leer. 
 
 Cap returned the look with interest. Dropping her head 
 on one side, she glanced upwards, from the corner of her 
 eye, with an expression of ^' infinite humor, mischief and 
 roguery, saying : 
 
 Lor ! didn't you know why I did that?" 
 '^Because you wanted me captured, I suppose.''^ 
 
 No, indeed, but, because " 
 
 Well, what r 
 
 Because — I wanted you to carry me off V 
 " Well, I declare, I never thought of that said the 
 outlaw, dropping his bread and cheese, and staring at the 
 young girl. 
 
 ''Well, you 77iig7it have thought of it then ! I was tired 
 of hum-drum life, and I wanted to see adventures I'" said 
 Cap. 
 
 Black Donald looked at the mad girl from head to foot, 
 and then said, coolly : 
 
 '''Miss Black, I am afraid you are not good.-'' 
 
 ^' Yes I am — before folks 1'' said Cap. 
 
 " And so you really wished me to carry you off.-" 
 
 "I should think so! didn't I stick to you until you 
 dropped me ?'*^ 
 
 "Certainly; and now if you really like me as well as 
 you say you do come give me a kiss." 
 
 "I won't I" said Cap, " until you have done your supper 
 and washed your face. Your beard is full of crumbs !" 
 
 " Yery well, I can vrait awhile ! meantime just brew 
 me a bowl of egg-nog, by way of a night-cap, will you ?" 
 
tH325 AWFtJL PEKir. OF CAPITOLA, 
 
 said the outlaw, drawing off his boots and stretching hia 
 legs to the fire. 
 
 '''Agreed; but it takes two to make egg-nog; you'll 
 have to whisk up the whites of the eggs into a froth, while 
 I beat the yellows, and mix the other ingredients," said 
 Cap. 
 
 Just so," assented the outlaw, standing up and taking 
 off his coat, and flinging it upon the floor. 
 
 Cap shuddered, but went on calmly with her prepara- 
 tions. There were two little white bowls sitting one within 
 the other upon the table. Cap took them apart and set 
 them side by side and began to break the eggs, letting the 
 white slip into one bowl and dropping the yellow into the 
 other. 
 
 Black Donald sat down in his shirt-sleeves, took one of 
 the bowls from Capitola and began to whisk up the whites 
 with all his might and main. 
 
 Capitola beat up the j^ellows, gradually mixing the 
 sugar with it. In the course of her work she complained 
 that the heat of the fire scorched her face, and she drew 
 her chair farther towards the corner of the chimney, and 
 pulled the stand after her. 
 
 " Oh ! you are trying to get away from me," said Black 
 Donald, hitching his own chair in the same direction, close 
 to the stand, so that he sat immediately in front of the fire- 
 place. 
 
 Cap smiled, and went on beating her eggs and sugar 
 together. Then she stirred in the brandy and poured in 
 the milk, and took the bowl from Black Donald, and laid 
 on the foam. Finally, she filled a goblet with the rich 
 compound and handed it to her uncanny guest. 
 
 Black Donald untied his neck cloth, threw it upon the 
 floor, and sipped his Qgg-nog, all the while looking over 
 the top of the glass at Capitola. 
 
 '' Miss Black," he said, it must be past twelve 
 o'clock." 
 
THE AWFUL PERIL OF CAPITOLA. 
 
 479 
 
 ^' I suppose it is," said Cap. 
 Then it miisi be long past your usual lionr of retir- 
 ing."'" 
 
 Of course it is/'^ said Cap. 
 Then what are you waiting for T' 
 For my company to go home/"' replied Cap. 
 Meaning me 
 Cleaning you.'^ 
 " 0\i, don't mind me^ my dear."' 
 Very well, said Cap^ '•'I shall not tronble myself 
 about you," and her tones were steady though her heart 
 seemed tnrned into a ball of ice through terror. 
 
 Black Douald went on slow-y sipping his egg-nog, filling 
 up his goblet when it was empty, and lo 'ked at C\ip:tola 
 orer the top uf his glass. At last he said : 
 '''I have been wa'chiug yon, Miss Black. ■'^ 
 Little need to tell me that,-" said Cap. 
 And I have been readins: tou.'* 
 TTell, I hope the page was entertaining." 
 Well — yes, my dear, it was, rather so. But why don't 
 you proceed 
 
 Proceed — witb what ?'"" 
 
 With what yon are thinking of, my darling/^ 
 I don't nnderstand yon/'' 
 
 Why don't you olf-r to go down stairs and bring up 
 some lemons ?"' 
 
 ■ ■' Oh, I Ti go in a moment,^' said Cap, if you wish." 
 
 ''Ha — h.a — ha — ha — ha ! Of course yon v.\l!. darl- 
 ing I and yonVi deliver me into the hands of the Ph:l:^::ncs, 
 just as yon did my poor men when yoir fooled tliLm ab'^irt 
 the victuals I I know yonr tricks, arid all your acting has no 
 other effect on me than to make me admire y: r^ ■ n lerful 
 coolness and courage ; so, my dear, stop puzzlir. ; ; r little 
 head with schemes to baffle me. Yon arc 1:1;: :1. raged 
 starling! You — can't — get — ont !"' chuckled Black Don- 
 
480 
 
 THE AWFUL PERIL OF CAPITOLA. 
 
 aid, hitching his chair nearer to hers. He was now right 
 upon the centre of the rug. 
 
 Capitola turned very pale, but not with fear, though 
 Black Donald thought she did, and roared with laughter. 
 
 " Have you done your supper she asked, with a sort 
 of awful calmness. 
 
 Yes, my duck,^' replied the outlaw, pouring the last 
 of the egg-nog into his goblet, drinking it at a draught, 
 and chuckling as he set down the glass. 
 
 Capitola then lifted the stand with the refreshments to 
 remove it to its usual place. 
 
 *^What are you going to do, my dear ?" asked Black 
 Donald. 
 
 *^ Clear away the things and set the room in order, said 
 Capitola, in the same awfully calm tone. 
 
 A nice little housewife you'll make, my duck \" said 
 Black Donald. 
 
 Capitola set the stand in its corner, and then removed 
 her own arm-chair to its place before the bressing-bureau. 
 
 !N"othing now remained upon the rug except Black Donald 
 seated in the arm-chair. 
 
 Capitola paused ; her blood seemed freezing in her veins ; 
 her heart beat thickly ; her throat was choked ; her head 
 full nearly to bursting, and her eyes were veiled by a blind- 
 ing film. 
 
 Come, come, my duck — make haste ; it is late ; haven't 
 you done setting the room in order yet said Black Donald, 
 impatiently. 
 
 '^In one moment," said Capitola, coming behind his 
 chair and leaning upon the back of it. 
 
 Donald," she said, with dreadful calmness, ^'I will 
 not call you Blach Donald ! I will call you as your poor 
 mother did, when your young soul was as white as your 
 skin, before she ever dreamed her boy would grow black 
 with crime. I will call you simply Donald, and entreat you 
 to hear me for a few minutes," 
 
THE AWrUL PEIilL OF CAPITOL A. 
 
 481 
 
 Talk ou^ tlien^ but talk fasfc^ and leave my motlier 
 alone. Let tlie dead rest I'' exclaimed the outlaw^ with a 
 violent convulsion of his bearded chin and lip that did not 
 escape the notice of Capitola, who hoped some good of this 
 betrayal of feeling. 
 
 ^'^ Donald/^ sbe said^. men call you a man of blood ; 
 they say that your hand is red and your soul black with 
 crime." 
 
 They may say what they like ; I care not," laughed 
 the outlaw. 
 
 '^^But 1 do not believe all this of you. I believe that 
 there is good in all, and much good in you ; that there is 
 hope for all, and strong hope for you." 
 
 ^' Bosli I stop talking poetry I ^Taint in my line, nor 
 yours either I" laughed Black Donald. 
 
 But truth is in all our lines. Donald ! I repeat it, 
 men call you a man of blood ! They say that your hands 
 are red and your soul black with sin. Blade Donald they 
 call you I But, Donald, you have never yet stained your 
 soul with a crime as black as that which you think of per- 
 petrating to-night I" 
 
 It must be near one o'clock, and I'm tired," replied 
 the outlaw, with a 3^awn. 
 
 ^'^All your former acts," continued Capitola, in the 
 same voice of awful calmness, ''^have been those of a bold, 
 bad man ! this act would be that of a hase one I" 
 
 " Take care, girl ! no bad names ! You are in my 
 power I at my mercy !" 
 
 I know my position ; but I must continue. Hitlierto 
 you have robbed mail-coaches and broken into rich men's 
 houses. In doing thus, you have always boldly risked your 
 life, often at such fearful odds that men have trembled at 
 their firesides to hear of it. And even women, while 
 dej^loring your crimes, have admired your courage." 
 
 '^I thank 'em kindly for it. TTomen always like men 
 with a spice of the devil in them," laughed the outlaw. 
 
482 
 
 THE AWFUL PERIL OF CAPITOLA. 
 
 ^^1^0, they do not/' said Capitola, gravely ; they like 
 men of strength, courage, and spirit — but those qualities 
 do not come from the Evil One, but from the Lord, who is 
 the giver of all good. Your Creator, Donald, gave you the 
 strength, courage, and spirit that all men and women so 
 much admire ; but he did not give you these great powers 
 that you might use them in the service of his enemy, the 
 devil/' 
 
 I declare there is really something in that — I never 
 thought of that before.'' 
 
 Nor ever thought, perhaps, that however misguided 
 you may have been, there is really something great and 
 good in yourself that might yet be used for the good of 
 man and the glory of God," said Capitola, solemnly. 
 
 Ha-ha-ha ! Oh, you flatterer. Come — have you 
 done ? I tell you it is after one o'clock, and I am tired to 
 death." 
 
 " Donald, in all your former acts of lawlessness your 
 antagonists were strong men ; and as you boldly risked your 
 life in your depredations, your acts, though bad, were not 
 base. But now your antagonist is a feeble girl, who has 
 been unfortunate from her very birth — to destroy her would 
 be an act of baseness to which you never yet descended." 
 
 Bosh ! who talks of destruction ? I am tired of all 
 this nonsense. I mean to carry you off, and there's an end 
 of it," said the outlaw, doggedly rising from his seat. 
 
 Stop !" said Capitola, turning ashen pale — ''stojD, sit 
 down and hear me for just five minutes ; I will not tax your 
 patience longer." 
 
 The robber, with a loud faugh, sank again into his 
 chair, saying : 
 
 "Very well; talk on for just five minutes and not a 
 single second longer ; but if you think in that time to per- 
 suade me to leave this room to-night without you, you are 
 widely out of your reckoiing, my duck, tliat's all." 
 
 " Donald, do not sink your soul to perdition by a crime 
 
THE AWFUL PEKIL OF CAPITOLA. 
 
 483 
 
 that Heaven cannot pardon. Listen to me ; I have jewels 
 here worth several thousand dollars. If you will consent 
 to go, I will give them all to you, and let you quietly out 
 of the front door, and never say one word to mortal of what 
 has passed here to-night." 
 
 " Ha-ha-ha ! why, my dear, how green you must think 
 me ! What hinders me from possessing myself of your 
 jewels as well as yourself said Black Donald, impatiently 
 rising. 
 
 ^'^SiT STILL ! the five minutes^ grace are not half out 
 yet V said Oapitola, in a breathless voice. 
 
 So they are not ! I will keep my promise replied 
 Black Donald — laughing, and again dropping into his seat. 
 
 Donald, uncle pays me a quarterly sum for pocket- 
 money, which is at least five times as much as I can spend 
 in this quiet country place. It has been accumulating for 
 years until now I have several thousand dollars all of my 
 own. You shall have it if you will only go quietly away and 
 leave me in peace \" prayed Oapitola. 
 
 " My dear, I intend to take that anyhow ! take it as your 
 bridal dower, you know. For I'm going to carry you off 
 and make an honest wife of you !" 
 
 " Dois ALD, give up this heinous purpose \" cried Oapi- 
 tola, in an agony of supplication, as she leant over the back 
 of the outlaw^s chair. 
 
 Yes, you know I will ! ha — ha — ha laughed the 
 robber. 
 
 Man, for your own sake give it up V* 
 " Ha-ha-ha ! for my sake V 
 
 '^Yes, for yours! Black Donald, have you ever re- 
 flected on death asked Oapitola, in a low and terrible 
 voice. 
 
 I have risked it often enough ; but as to reflecting 
 upon it, it will be time enough to do tliat when it comes. I 
 am a powerful man, in the prime and pride of life,'^ said the 
 athlete, stretching himself exultingly. 
 
484: 
 
 THE AWFUL PERIL OF CAPITOLA. 
 
 Yet it might come ! death might come with sudden, 
 overwhelming power and hurl you to destruction. What 
 a terrible thing for this magnificent frame of yours, this 
 glorious handiwork of the Creator, to be hurled to swift 
 destruction, and for the soul that animates it to be cast 
 into hell V 
 
 "Bosh, again ! that is a subject for the pulpit, not for 
 a pretty girl's room. If you really think me such a hand- 
 some man, why don't you go with me at once and say no 
 more about it,'' roared the outlaw, laughing. 
 
 " Black Donald — will you leave my room !" cried 
 Oapitola, in an agony of prayer. 
 
 " JSTo," answered the outlaw, mocking her tone. 
 Is there no inducement that I can hold out to you to 
 leave me ?" 
 
 Capitola raised herself from her leaning posture, took 
 a step backward so that she stood entirely free from the 
 trap-door ; then slipping her foot under the rug, she placed 
 it lightly on the spring-bolt which she was careful not to 
 press ; the ample fall of her dress concealed the position of 
 her foot. 
 
 Capitola was now paler than a corpse, for hers was the 
 pallor of a living horror ! Her heart beat violently, her 
 head throbbed, her voice was broken as she said : 
 
 " Man, I will give you one more chance. Oh, man, 
 pity yourself as I pity you, and consent to leave me." 
 
 " Ha-ha-ha ! it is quite likely that I will ! isn't it now ? 
 No, my duck ! I haven't watched and j)lanned for this 
 chance for this long time past to give it up now that you 
 are in my power. A likely story, indeed ! And now the 
 five minutes' grace are quite up." 
 
 '^Stop! don't move yet! before you stir sa}^, 'Lord 
 have mercy on me !' " said Capitola, solemnly. 
 
 Ha-ha-ha ! tlia fs a pretty idea ! why should I say 
 that ?" 
 
THE AWFUL PEKIL OF CAPITOLA. 
 
 4S5 
 
 " Say it to please me ! only say it^ Black Donald I"^ 
 
 ^'Biit iL'hij to please yoa T' 
 Because I wish not to kill botli yonr body and soul I 
 because I would not send yon prayerless into the presence 
 of your Creator I for, Black Donald, within a fey>^ seconds 
 your body will be hurled to swift destruction, and your 
 soul will stand before the bar of God I'" said Capitola, with 
 her foot upon the spring of the concealed trap. 
 
 She bad scarcely ceased speaking before he bounded to 
 his feet, wliirled around, and confronted lier_, like a lion at 
 bay, roaring forth : 
 
 You have a revolver there, girl I move a finger and I 
 shall throw myself on you like an avalanche I"' 
 
 "I have no revolver ! watch my hands as I take them 
 forth and see I'^ said Capitol a, stretching her arms out 
 towards him. 
 
 "What do you mean, then^ by your talk of suddeii 
 destruction V' inquired Black Donald^ in a voice of thun- 
 der. 
 
 "I mean that it hangs over you I that it is imminent I 
 that it is not to be cscajDcd I Oh, man, call on Cod, for you 
 have not a minute to live \" 
 
 The outlaw gazed on her in astonishment. 
 
 l^ell he might, for there she stood, paler than marble I 
 sterner than fate I with no look of human feeling about her 
 but the gloaming light of her terrible eyes, and the beading 
 svreat upon her death-like brow. 
 
 For an instant the outlaw gazed on her in consternation, 
 and then recovering himself, be burst into a loud laugh, 
 exclaiming : 
 
 Ha-ha-ha ! "Well, I suppose this is what people would 
 call a piece of splendid acting. Do you expect to frighten 
 me, my dear, as you did Cr^iven Le Xoir, with the peas I'* 
 
 Say — ^Lord have mercy on my soul,^ say it Black 
 Donald, say it, I beseech you I'^ she prayed. 
 
 Ha-ha-ha^ my dear ! ^jou may say it for me ! and to 
 
486 
 
 THE NEXT MORNING. 
 
 reward yon, I will give you — such a hiss ! it will pnfc life 
 into those marble cheeks of yours V he laughed. 
 
 '^I loill say it for you ! May the Lord pity aud save 
 Black Donald^s soul, if that be yet possible, for the Sav- 
 iour^s sake \" prayed Capitola, in a broken voice, with her 
 foot upon the concealed and fatal spring. 
 
 He laughed aloud, and stretched forth his arms to clasp 
 her. 
 
 She pressed the spring. 
 
 The drop fell with a tremendous crash ! 
 
 The outlaw shot downwards ! There was an instant's 
 vision of a white and panic-stricken face, and wild uplifted 
 hands as he disappeared, and then a square, black opening 
 was all that remained where the terrible intruder had sat. 
 
 No sight or sound came up from that horrible pit to 
 hint of the secrets of the prison house. 
 
 One shuddering glance at the awful void, and then 
 Capitola turned and threw herself, face downwards, upon 
 the bed, not daring to rejoice in the safety that had been 
 purchased by such a dreadful deed, feeling that it was an 
 awful, though a complete victory ! 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 THE NEXT MOKKINO. 
 
 " Oh, such a day 
 So fought, so followed and so tairly won 
 Came not till now to dignify the times, 
 
 Since Csesar's fortunes." — Shakespeare. 
 
 Capitola lay upon the bed, with her face buried in the 
 pillow, the greater portion of the time from two o'clock 
 until day. An uncontrollable horror prevented her fj'Qm 
 
THE NEXT MORXIN'G. 
 
 4-7 
 
 turning lest she should see the yawning mystery in the 
 middle of the floor, or hear some awful sonnd from its un- 
 known depths. The very shaduws on the walls thrown up 
 wildly by the expiring firelight, were objects of grotesque 
 terror. Xever, never, in the whole youth of strange yicis- 
 situde, had the nerves of this brave girl been so tremen- 
 dously shaken and prostrated. 
 
 It was late in the morning when at last nature suc- 
 cumbed, and she sank into a deep sleep. She had not slept 
 long when she was aroused from a profound state of insensi- 
 bility by a loud, impatient knocking at her door. 
 
 She started up wildly and gazed around her. For a 
 minute she could not remember what were the circum- 
 stances under which she had lain down, or what was that 
 vague feeling of horror and alarm that possessed her. 
 Then the yawning trap-door, the remnants of the supper, 
 and Black Donald's coat, hat and boots upon the floor, 
 drove in upon her reeling brain the memory of the night 
 of terror ! 
 
 The knocking continued more loudly and impatiently, 
 accompanied by the voice of ]\Irs. Condiment, crying : 
 
 Miss Capitola I Miss Capitola ! why, what can be the 
 matter with her ? — Mi?s Capitola 
 
 '^Ehl what? yes I"^ answered Capitola, pressing her 
 hands to her feverish forehead, and putting back her dis- 
 heveled hair. 
 
 Why, how soundly you sleep, my dear ! I've been call- 
 ing and rapping here for a quarter of an hour I Good gTa- 
 cious, child, what made you oversleep yourseK so V 
 
 I — did not get to bed till very late,'''' said Capitola, 
 confusedly. 
 
 ^•'T^ell, well, my dear, make haste now,- your uncle is 
 none of the patientest, and he has been waiting breakfast 
 for some time I Come, open the door and I will help you 
 to dress, so that you may be ready sooner. ■'•' 
 
 Capitola rose from the side of the bed, where she had 
 
4'88 
 
 THE NEXT MORNING. 
 
 been sitting, and went cautiously around that gaping trap- 
 door to her chamber-door, when she missed the key, and 
 suddenly remembered that it had been in Black Donald^s 
 pocket when he fell. A shudder thrilled her frame at the 
 thought of that horrible fall. 
 
 ^' Well, well. Miss Capitola, why don^t you open the 
 door cried the old lady, impatiently. 
 
 *^Mrs. Condiment, I have lost the key — dropped it 
 down the trap-door. Please ask uncle to send for some 
 one to take the lock off — and don^t wait breakfast for me." 
 
 Well, I do think that was very careless, my dear ; but 
 I'll go at once," said the old lady, moving away. 
 
 She had not been gone more than ten minutes, when 
 Old Hurricane was heard, coming blustering along the 
 hall, and calling : 
 
 What now, you imp of Satan ? What mischief have 
 you been at now ? Opening the trap-door, you mischievous 
 monkey ! I wish from the bottom of my soul you had 
 fallen into it, and I should have got rid of one trial ! 
 Losing your key, you careless baggage ' I've a great 
 mind to leave you locked up there for evei." 
 
 Thus scolding, Old Hurricane reached the spot, and 
 began to ply screw-drivers and chisels until at length the 
 strong lock yielded, and he opened the door. 
 
 There a vision met his eyes that arrested his steps upon 
 the very threshold ; the remains of a bacchanalian supper ; 
 a man's coat and hat and boots upon the floor ; in the 
 midst of the room the great, square, black opening ; and 
 beyond it, standing upon the hearth, the form of Capitola, 
 with disordered dress, dishevelled hair, and wild aspect. 
 
 Oh, uncle, see what I have been obliged to do \" she 
 exclaimed, extending both her arms down towards the 
 opening with a look of blended horror and inspiration, 
 such as might have sat upon the countenance of some 
 sacrificial priestess of the olden time. 
 
THE NEXT MORXIXG. 
 
 What — what — what cried the old man_, nearly dumb 
 with amazement. 
 
 " Black Donald was in my room last night ; he stole 
 from his concealment and locked the door on the inside, 
 and Avithdrew the key^ thus locking- me in Avith himself, 
 
 and " she ceased and struck both hands to her face, 
 
 shuddering from head to foot. 
 
 Go ox, TtIrl r thundered Old Hurricane, in an 
 agony of anxiety. 
 
 — ^'1 escaped harmless I oh, I did, sir, but at what a 
 fearful price \" 
 
 Explain ! Explain \" cried Old Hurricane, in breath- 
 less agitation. 
 
 ^^I drew him to sit upon the chair on the rug, and — 
 again she shuddered from head to foot — and I sj^rung the 
 trap and precipitated him to — oh, Heaven of Heavens I 
 where ? — I know not V 
 
 But you — you were unharmed 
 • ^^Yes, yesr 
 
 Oh, Cap ! Oh, my dear Cap ! Thank Heaven for 
 tliat !" 
 
 But, uncle, where — oh, where did he go inquired 
 Capitol a, almost wildly. 
 
 ^•AVho tiie demon cares ? To perdition, I hope and 
 trust, with all my heart and soul I'' cried Old Hurricane, 
 with emphasis, as he approached and looked down the 
 opening. 
 
 Uncle, what is below there T' asked Capitola, anx- 
 iously pointing down the abyss. 
 
 An old cellar, as I have told you long ago, and Black 
 Donald, as you have just told me. Hillo theke ! are you 
 killed, as you deserve to be, you atrocious villain ?" roared 
 Old Hurricane, stooping down into the opening 
 A feeble, distant moan answered him. 
 ^^Oh, heaven I he is living I he is living I I have not 
 killed him !" cried Capitola, clasping her hands. 
 
490 
 
 THE NEXT MORNING. 
 
 Why, I do believe you are glad of ifc \" exclaimed Old 
 Hurricane, in astonishment. 
 
 Oh, yes, yes, yes ! for it was a fearful thought that I 
 had been compelled to take a sacred life ! to send an im- 
 mortal soul unprepared to its account V 
 
 Well ! his neck isn^t broken, it appears, or he couldn't 
 groan ; but I hope and trust that every other bone in his 
 body is ! Mrs. Condiment, mum ! Til trouble you to put 
 on your bonnet and walk over to Ezy's and tell him to 
 come here directly ! I must send for the constable, said 
 Old Hurricane, going to the door and speaking to his 
 housekeeper, who, with an appalled countenance, had been 
 a silent spectator of all that had passed. 
 
 As soon as the old woman had gone to do her errand he 
 turned again, and stooping down the hole, exclaimed : 
 
 I say, you scoundrel down there ! What do you think 
 of yourself now? Are you much hurt, 5^ou knave ? Is 
 every one of your bones broken, as they deserve to be, you 
 villain ? Answer me, you varlet \" 
 
 A low, deep moan was the only response. 
 
 If that means yes, I'm glad to hear it, you wretch. 
 You'll go to the camp-meeting with us again, won't you, 
 you knave ! You'll preach against evil passions and profane 
 swearing, looking right straiglit at me all the time, until 
 you bring the eyes of the whole congregation upon me as a 
 sinner above all sinners, you scoundrel ? You'll turn me 
 out of my owm bed and away from my own board, won't you, 
 you villain ? Won't you, precious Father Gray ? Oh, we'll 
 Father Gray you ! Demmy, the next time a trap-door falls 
 under you, you rascal, there shall be a rope around your 
 neck to keep you from the ground, precious Father Gray !" 
 
 Uncle ! Uncle ! that is cowardly !" exclaimed Capi- 
 
 tola. 
 
 What is cowardly. Miss Impertinence ?" 
 To insult and abuse a fallen man who is in your 
 power ! The poor man is badly hurt, may be dying, for 
 
THE NEXT MOENING. 
 
 491 
 
 aught you know, and you stand over liim and berate him 
 when he cannot even answer you I" 
 
 " Umph, nmph, umph ; dcmmy, you^'C — nniph, well, 
 he is fallen, fallen pretty badl}^ eh ? and if he should come 
 around after this, the next fall he gets will be like to break 
 his neck, eh ? — I say, you gentleman below there — Mr. Black 
 Donald — precious Father Gray — you^ll keep quiet won% you, 
 while we go iind get our breakfast ? Do, now ! Come, Cap, 
 come down and pour out my coffee, and by the time we get 
 through, old Ezy will be here/^ 
 
 Capitola complied, and they left the room together. 
 
 The overseer came in Vvdiile they were at breakfast, and 
 with his hair standing on end, listened to the account of the 
 capture of the outlaw by our heroine. 
 
 "And now saddle Fleetfoot and ride for your life to Tij) 
 Top and bring a pair of constables," were the last orders 
 of Old Hurricane. 
 
 While Mr. Ezy was gone on his errand. Major Warfield, 
 Capitola and Mrs. Condiment remained below stairs. 
 
 It was several hours before the messenger returned with 
 the constables, and with several neighbors whom interest 
 and curiosity had instigated to join the party. 
 
 As soon as they arrived, a long ladder was procured and 
 carried up into Capitola's chamber, and let down through 
 the trap door. Fortunately it was long enough, for when 
 the foot of the ladder found the floor of the cellar, the head 
 ' rested securely against the edge of the opening. 
 
 In a moment the two constables began singly to descend, 
 the foremost one carrying a lighted candle in his hand. 
 
 The remaining members of the party, consisting of 
 Major Warfield, Capitola, Mrs. Condiment, and some half 
 dozen neighbors, remained gathered around the open trap- 
 door, waiting, watching, and listening for what might next 
 happen. 
 
 Presently one of the constables called out : 
 Major Warfield, sir!" 
 
TITE NEXT M0RN1N&. 
 
 Well replied Old IlniTicane. 
 
 He's a-breathing still, sir ; but seems badly hurt, and 
 may be a-dying, seeing as he^s unsensible and unspeakable. 
 What shall we do along of him ?" 
 
 Bring him up ! let's have a look at the fellow, at any 
 rate exclaimed Old Hurricane, peremptorily. 
 
 Just so, sir ! but some of the gem'men up there'll 
 have to come down on the ladder and give a lift. lie's 
 dead weight now, I tell your honor V 
 
 Several of the neighbors immediately volunteered for 
 the service, and two of the strongest descended the ladder 
 to lend their aid. 
 
 On attempting to move the injured man he uttered a 
 cry of pain, and fainted, and then it took the united 
 strength and skill of four strong men to raise the huge 
 insensible form of the athlete, and get him uj) the ladder. 
 No doubt the motion greatly inflamed his inward w^ounds, 
 but that could not be helped. They got him up at last, 
 and laid out upon the floor, a ghastly, bleeding, insen- 
 sible form, around which every one gathered to gaze. 
 While they were all looking upon him as upon a slaugh- 
 tered wild beast, Capitola alone felt compassion. 
 
 " Uncle, he is quite crushed by his fall. Make the men 
 lay him upon the bed. Never think of me ; I shall never 
 occupy this room again ; its associations are too full of 
 horrors. There, uncle, make them at once lay him upon 
 the bed.'' 
 
 '^I think the young lady is right, unless we mean to let 
 the fellow die," said one of the neighbors. 
 
 "Very well ! I have particular reasons of my own for 
 wishing that the man's life should be spared until he could 
 be brought to trial and induced to give up his accomj^lices," 
 said Old Hurricane. Then turning to his ward, he said : 
 
 ^' Come along, Capitola. Mrs. Condiment will see that 
 your effects are transferred to another apartment." 
 
 " And you^ friends," he continued, addressing the men 
 
THE NEXT MOENING. 
 
 493 
 
 present, be so good, so soon as wo have gone, as to un- 
 dress that fellow and put him to bed, and examine his in- 
 juries while I send off for a physician ; for I consider it very 
 important that his life should be spared sufficiently long to 
 enable him to give up his accomplices."' And so saying, 
 old Hurricane drew the arm of Oapitola within his own 
 and left the room. 
 
 It was noon before the physician arrived. When he 
 had exanimed the patient, he pronounced him utterly unfit 
 to be removed, as besides other serious contusions and 
 braises, his legs were broken and several of his ribs frac- 
 tured. 
 
 In a word, it was several weeks before the strong con- 
 stitution of the outlaw prevailed over his many injuries, 
 and he was pronounced well enough to be taken before a 
 magistrate and committed to prison to wait his trial. 
 Alas ! his life, it was said, was forfeit by an hundred 
 crimes, and there could be no doubt as to his fate. 
 He maintained a self-possessed, good-humored, and laugh- 
 ingly defiant manner, and when asked to give up his 
 accomplices, he answered gaily : 
 
 That treachery was a legal virtue which outlaws could 
 not be expected to know anything about.''^ 
 
 Oapitola was everywhere hiuded for her brave part in 
 the capture of the famous desperado. ^ But Cap was too 
 sincerely sorry for Black Donald to care for the applause. 
 
494 
 
 A FATAL HATRED. 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 A FATAL HATRED. 
 
 " Oh, heaven and all its hosts, he shall not die !** 
 " By Satan and his fiends, he shall not live I 
 
 This is no transient flash of fugitive passion, — 
 
 His death hath been by life for years of misery, 
 
 Which, else, I had not lived, — 
 
 Upon that thought, and not on food, I fed ; 
 
 Upon that thought, and not on sleep, I rested ; 
 
 I came to do the deed that must be done, — 
 
 Nor thou, nor the sheltering angels could prevent me." 
 
 — Maturin. 
 
 The United States army^ under General Scott, invested 
 the city of Mexico. 
 
 A succession of splendid victories had marked every stage 
 of their advance, from the sea-coast to the capital. Vera 
 Cruz had fallen ; Cerro Gordo had been stormed and passed ; 
 Xalpa taken ; the glorious triumph of Churubusco had been 
 achieved. The names of Scott, Worth, Wool, Quitman, 
 Pillow, and others, were crowned with honor. Others, again, 
 whose humble names and unnoticed heroism has never 
 been recorded, endured as nobly, suffered as patiently, and 
 fought as bravely. Our own young hero, Herbert Grey son, 
 had covered himself with honor. 
 
 The war with Mexico witnessed, perhaps, the most rapid 
 promotions of any other in the whole history of military 
 affairs. 
 
 The rapid ascent of our young oflBcer was a striking 
 instance of this. In two years from the time he had entered 
 the service with a lieutcnant^s commission, he held the rank 
 of major in the regiment of infantry. 
 
A FATAL HATEED. 
 
 495 
 
 Fortune had not so smiled upon our other young friend. 
 Traverse Eocke ; partly, because, being entirely out of his 
 vocation, he had no right to expect success ; but, mostl}^ 
 because he had a powerful enemy in tlie colonel of his regi- 
 ment — an unsleeping enemy, whose constant vigilance was 
 directed to prevent the advancement, and insure the degra- 
 dation and ruin of one whom he contemptuously termed 
 the "gentleman private.'^ 
 
 I^ow, it is known that, by the rules of military etiquette, 
 a wide social gulf lies between the colonel of the regiment 
 and the private in the ranks. 
 
 Yet Colonel Le Noir continually went out of his w^ay to 
 insult Private Eocke, hoping to provoke him to some act 
 of fatal insubordination. 
 
 And very heavy was this trial to a high-spirited young 
 man like Traverse Eocke ; and very fortunate was it for 
 him that he had early been imbued with that most impor- 
 tant truth that " he who ruleth his own spirit is greater 
 thi.n he who taketh a city."' 
 
 But if Colonel Le Noir crossed the gulf of military 
 etiquette to harass the poor young soldier. Major Greyson 
 did the same thing for the more honorable purpose of 
 soothing and encouraging him. 
 
 And both Herbert and Traverse hoped that the designs 
 of their colonel would be still frustrated by the self- 
 command and patience of the young private. 
 
 Alas ! they did not know the great power of evil — they 
 did not know that nothing less than Divine Providence 
 could meet and overcome it. 
 
 They fondly believed that the malignity of Le Noir had 
 resulted in no other practical evil than the preventing the 
 ycung soldier's well-merited advancement, and in keeping 
 him in the humble position of a private in the ranks. 
 
 Tiiey were not aware that the discliarge of Traverse 
 Eocke had long ago arrived, but that it had been suppressed 
 through the diabolical cunnmg of Le Noir. That letters^ 
 
496 
 
 A FATAL HATRED. 
 
 / 
 
 messages, and packets, sent by his friends to the young 
 soldier, had found their way into his coloners possession, 
 and no further. 
 
 And so, believing the hatred of that bad man to liave 
 been fruitless of serious, practical evil, Herbert encouraged 
 his friend to be patient for a short time longer, when they 
 should see the end of the campaign, if not of the war. 
 
 It was now that period of suspense and of false truce, 
 between the glorious 20th of August, and the equally glori- 
 ous 8th of September, 1847 — betAveen the tAVo most bril- 
 liant actions of the war, the battle of Churubusco and the 
 storming of Chapultepec. 
 
 The General-in-chief of the United States forces in 
 Mexico was at his headquarters in the archiepiscopal palace 
 of Tacubaya, on the suburbs, or in the full sight of the city 
 of the Montezumas, awaiting the issue of the conference 
 between the commissioners of the two hostile governments, 
 met to arrange the terms of a treaty of peace — that every 
 day grew more hopeless. 
 
 General Scott, who had had misgivings as to the good 
 faith of the Mexicans, had now his suspicions confirmed by 
 several breaches on the part of the enemy of the terms of 
 the armistice. 
 
 Early in September, he despatched a letter to General 
 Santa Anna, complaining of these infractions of the truce, 
 and warning him that, if some satisfactory explanations 
 were not made within forty-eight hours, he should consider 
 the armistice at an end, and renew hostilities. 
 
 And, not to lose time, he began on the same night a 
 series of reconnoisances, the object of which was to ascer- 
 tain the best approach to the city of Mexico — which, in 
 the event of the renewal of the war, he purposed to carry 
 by assault. 
 
 It is not my intention to pretend to describe tlie siege 
 and capture of the capital, which has been so often and 
 eloquently described by grave and v/ise historians, but 
 
A FATAL HATRED. 
 
 49Y 
 
 rather to follow the fortunes of a humble private in the 
 ranks and relate the events of a certain court martial, as I 
 learned them from the after-dinner talk of a gallant officer, 
 who had officiated on the occasion. 
 
 It was during these early days in September, while the 
 illustrious General-in-chief was meditating concluding the 
 war by the assault of the city of Mexico, that Colonel Le 
 Noir also resolved to bring his own private feud to an end, 
 and ruin his enemy by a coup-de-diaUe. 
 
 He had an efficient tool for his purpose in the Captain 
 of the company to which Traverse Rocke belonged. This 
 man. Captain Zuten, was a vulgar upstart, thrown into his 
 command by the turbulence of war, as the scum is cast up 
 to the surface by the boiling of the cauldron. 
 
 He hated Traverse Rocke, for no conceivable reason, 
 unless it was that the young private was a perfect contrast 
 to himself, in the possession of a handsome person, a well 
 cultivated mind, and a gentlemanly deportment, — cause 
 sufficient for the antagonism of a mean and vulgar nature. 
 
 Colonel Le Noir was not slow to see and to take advan- 
 tage of his hatred. 
 
 And Captain Zuten became the willing co-adjutor and 
 instrument of his vengeance. Between them they con- 
 cocted a plot almost certain to bring the unfortunate 
 young man to an ignominious death. 
 
 One morning, about the first of September, Major 
 Greyson, in going his rounds, came upon Traverse, stand- 
 ing sentry near one of the out-posts. The aspect of the 
 young private was so pale, haggard and despairing, that 
 his friend immediately stopped and exclaimed : 
 
 Why Traverse, how ill you look ! more fitted for the 
 sick list, than the sentry^s duties. What the deuce is the 
 matter 
 
 The young soldier touched his hat to his superior, and 
 answered sadly, '^I am ill, ill in body and mind, sir." 
 " Pooh ! — leave off etiquette when we are alone, Trav- 
 
498 
 
 A FATAL HATRED. 
 
 erse, and call me Herbert^ as usual. Heaven knows I 
 shall be glad when all this is over, and we fall back into 
 our relative civil positions towards each other ! But what 
 is the matter rfow, Traverse ? — Some of Le Noir^s villainy 
 again^ of course/^ 
 
 Of course ! but I did not mean to complain, Herbert ! 
 — that were childish ! I must endure this slavery, these 
 insults, and persecutions patiently, since I have brouglit 
 them upon myself. " 
 
 Take comfort. Traverse ! the war is drawing to a 
 close. Either this armistice will end in a permanent 
 peace, or when hostilities are renewed our General will 
 carry the city of Mexico by storm, and dictate the terms of 
 a treaty from the grand square of the capital ! In either 
 event the war will soon be over, the troops disbanded, and 
 the volunteers free to go about their business ; — and Doctor 
 Traverse Eocke, at liberty to pursue his legitimate pro- 
 fession,^^ said Herbert cheerfully. 
 
 It may be so ; I do not know. Oh, Herbert, whether 
 it be from want of sleep, and excessive fatigue, — for I have 
 been on duty for three days and nights, — or whether it be 
 from incipient illness, or all these causes put together, I 
 cannot tell, but my spirits are dreadfully depressed ! There 
 seems to be hanging over me a cloud of fate I cannot dis- 
 pel ! Every hour it seems descending lower and blacker 
 over my head, until it feels like some heavy weight, about 
 to suffocate or crush me \" said Traverse, sadly. 
 
 ^^Pooh, pooh ! hypochondria ! cheer up ! remember that 
 in a month we shall probably be disbanded, and in a year 
 — think of it. Traverse Rocke !— Clara Day will be twenty- 
 one, and at liberty to give you her hand ! cheer up \" 
 
 Ah, Herbert ! all that seems now to be more unsub- 
 stantial than the fabric of a dream ! I cannot think of 
 Clara or of my mother, without despair ! For oh, Herbert, 
 between me and them there seems to yawn a dishonored 
 
A FATAL HATEED. 
 
 499 
 
 grave! Herbert, they talk, 3-ou know, of an attack npon the 
 Molina-del-Eey, and I almost hope to fall in that charge V 
 Why ?" inquired Major G-reysou, in dismay. 
 To escape leing forced into a dislionorecl grave ! Her- 
 bert, that man has sv/orn my ruin, and he will accomplish 
 it said Traverse, solemnly. 
 
 ^•For Heaven^s sake, explain yourself \" said Herbert. 
 
 '^I will ! listen ! I will tell you the history of the last 
 three days,^' said Traverse ; but before he could add another 
 word, the sentry that was to relieve his guard, approached 
 and said : 
 
 Captain Zuten orders yon to come to his tent in- 
 stantly." 
 
 With a glance full of significance. Traverse bowed to 
 Herbert, and walked off, while the sentinel took his place. 
 
 Herbert saw no more of Traverse that day. At night 
 he went to inquire for him, but learned that he had been 
 sent with a reconnoitering party to tlie Mclino-del-Key. 
 
 The next day, on seeking for Traverse, he understood 
 that the young private had been despatched on a foraging 
 expedition. That night, upon again inquiring for him, he 
 was told that he had been sent in attendance upon the 
 officer who had borne secret despatches to General Quitman, 
 at his quarters on the Acapulco road. 
 
 Traverse is right ! They mean to ruin him ! I see 
 how it is, exactly. When I saw Traverse on guard, two 
 days ago, he looked like a man exhausted and crazed for 
 want of sleep : and since that time he has been night and 
 day engaged in harassing duty ! That demon, Le Xoir, 
 with Zuten to help him, has determined to keep Traverse 
 from sleep, until nature is thoroughly exhausted, and then 
 set him upon guard, that he may be found sleeping upon 
 his post. That was what the boy meant, when he talked 
 of the cloud that was hanging over him, and of being 
 forced into a dishonored grave ; — and when he hoped, poor 
 fellow, to fall in the approaching assault upon the Molino- 
 
500 
 
 A FATAL HATRED. 
 
 del-Eey ! — I see it all now ! Tliey liaye decided upon the 
 destruction of Traverse ! He can do nothing ; a soldier's 
 whole duty is com2)rised in one word — obedience, even, if, 
 as in this instance, he is ordered to commit suicide ! Let 
 them hatch their diabolical plots ? We will see if the Lord 
 does not still reign, and if tlie devil is not a fool ! It shall 
 go hard, but they are ''hoist with their own petard V " said 
 Herbert, indignantly. 
 
 Early the next morning he went to the tent of Captain 
 Zuten, and requested to see Private Traverse Kocke, in 
 whom, he said, he felt a warm, interest. 
 
 The answer of Colonel Le Noir's tool confirmed Herbert^s 
 worst suspicions. 
 
 Touching his cap with an air of deference, he said : 
 As you think so much of the young fellow, Major, I 
 am very sorry to inform you, sir, that he is under arrest." 
 
 Upon what charge inquired Herbert, calmly, con- 
 cealing the suspicion and indignfition of his bosom. 
 
 Upon a rather bad one, Major — sleeping on his post," 
 replied the officer, masking his exultation with a .'^^how of 
 respect. 
 
 "Eather bad ! the penalty is death," said Herbert, 
 dryly. 
 
 Yes, sir— martial law is rather severe." 
 '^Who charges him ?" asked Herbert, curtly. 
 '^The Colonel of our regiment, sir," replied the man, 
 scarcely able to conceal his triumph. 
 
 '^An accusation from a high quarter. Is his charge 
 supported by otJier testimony ?" 
 
 Beg your pardon. Major, but is that necessary ?" 
 ''You have answered my question by asking another 
 one, sir. I will trouble you for a direct reply," said Her- 
 bert, with dignity. 
 
 Then, Major, I must reply— Yes." 
 ''What testimony? I would know the circumstan- 
 ces r 
 
A FATAL HATRED. 
 
 501 
 
 Well, sir, I will tell yon all about it/*' said tlie officer, 
 ^'itli ill-coucecLled triumpli. Private Traverse Eocke had 
 
 the early morning watch 
 
 "'After his return from the night ride to 
 
 Acapulco ?''^ 
 
 •'•'Yes, sir ; well, Colonel Le Xoir and myself, in going 
 our rounds this morning, jitsc before sunrise, came full 
 n^Don the young fellow, fast asleep on his post. In fact, 
 sir, it required a hearty shake to awaken him."' 
 
 ••'After niuety-six hours'' loss of sleep, I should not 
 wonder \'' 
 
 ^'1 know nothing about that, sir: I only know that 
 Colonel Le Xoir and myself found him fast asleep on his 
 post. He was immediately arrested."^ 
 
 •'•' TVhere is he now inquired Herbert. 
 
 ^''In one of the Colonel's extra tents, under guard," 
 replied the officer. 
 
 Herbert immediately went to the tent in question, where 
 he found two sentinels, with loaded muskets, on duty 
 before the door. They grounded arms, on the approach of 
 their superior officer. 
 
 "'Is Private Traverse Eocke confined within there P^-* 
 he inquired. 
 Yes, sir." 
 
 "' I must pass in to see him." 
 
 "'I beg your pardon, sir ; but our orders are strict, not 
 even to admit an officer, without a written order from our 
 Colonel,'^ said the sentinel. 
 
 " Where is the Colonel ?" 
 
 "' In his tent, sir." 
 
 Herbert immediately went on to the fine marcpiee occu- 
 pied by Colonel Le Xoir. 
 
 The sentinel on duty there, at once admitted him, and 
 he passed on into the presence of the Colonel. 
 
 He saluted his superior officer with cold military eti-. 
 quette, and said : 
 
502 
 
 A FATAL SATKEt). 
 
 I have come;, sir, to ask of you, au order to be admit- 
 ted to see Private Traverse Rocke, confined under the 
 charge of sleeping on his post." 
 
 (( J regret to say. Major Greyson, that it cannot be 
 done," replied Le Noir, with ironical politeness. 
 
 " Will you have the kindness to inform me, sir, upon 
 what pretext my reasonable request is refused ?" asked 
 Herbert, coldly. 
 
 "I deem it quite unnecessary to do so, sir/' answered 
 the Colonel, haughtily. 
 
 Then, I have no more to do here,^' replied Herbert, 
 leaving the tent. 
 
 He immediately threw himself into his saddle, and rode 
 off to the Archiepiscopal palace of Tacubaya, where the 
 General-in-chief had fixed his headquarters. 
 
 Here he had to wait some little time before he was ad- 
 mitted to the presence of the gallant Commander, who 
 received him with all the stately courtesy, for which that 
 renowned officer was distinguished. 
 
 Herbert mentioned the business that had brought him 
 to the general's presence, the request of a written order to 
 see a prisoner in strict confinement for sleeping on his post. 
 
 The Commander, whose kind heart was interested in the 
 welfare of all his soldiers, made some inquiries into the affair, 
 of which Herbert proceeded to give him a short history, 
 without, however, venturing, as yet, directly to charge the 
 Captain or the Colonel with intentional foul play ; — indeed, 
 to have attempted to criminate the superior officers of the 
 accused man, would then have been most unwise, useless, 
 and hurtful. 
 
 The general immediately wrote the desired order, and 
 passed it to the young officer. 
 
 Herbert bowed, and was about to retire from the room, 
 when he was called back by the general, who placed a packet 
 of letters in his hand, saying that they had arrived among 
 
A FATAL HATRED. 
 
 503 
 
 his despatches^ and were for the prisoner, to whom Major 
 Grey son might as well take them at once. 
 
 Herbert received them with avidity, and on his way back 
 to the coloneFs tent, he examined their superscription. 
 
 There were three letters — all directed to Traverse liocke ; 
 on two of them, he recognized the familiar handwriting of 
 Marah Rocke, on the other, he saw the delicate Italian style 
 of a young lady's hand, which he readily believed to be that 
 of Clara. 
 
 In the midst of his anxiety on his friend's account he 
 rejoiced to have this one little ray of comfort to carry him. 
 He knew that many months had elapsed since the young 
 soldier had heard from his friends at home — in fact. Trav- 
 erse never received a letter unless it happened to come under 
 cover to Herbert Grreyson. And well they both knew the 
 reason. 
 
 ''How very fortunate, said Herbert, as he rode on, 
 '' that I happened to be at the general's quarters to receive 
 these letters just when I did ; for if they had been sent to 
 Colonel Le Noir's quarters, or to Captain Z/s, poor Trav- 
 erse would never have heard of them. However, I shall not 
 distract Traverse's attention by showing him these letters 
 until he has told me the full history of his arrest, for I wish 
 him to give me a cool account of the whole thing, so that I 
 may know if I can possibly serve him. Ah, it is very un- 
 likely that any power of mine will be able to save him if 
 indeed, and in truth, he did sleep upon his post," ruminated 
 Herbert, as he rode up to the tent where the prisoner was 
 confined. ♦ 
 
 Another pair of sentinels were on duty in place of those 
 who had refused him admittance. 
 
 He alighted from his horse, was challenged, showed his 
 order, and passed into the tent. 
 
 There a sight met him that caused the tears to rush to 
 his eyes — for the bravest is always the tenderest heart. 
 
504 
 
 A FATAL HATRED. 
 
 Thrown down on a mat_, at the back of the tent, lay 
 Ti-averse Rocke, pale, haggard, and sunken in the deep, 
 deep sleep of utter exhaustion. Even in that state of per- 
 fect abandonment, prostration and insensibility, the 
 expression of great mental anguish remained upon his 
 deathly countenance ; a mortal pallor overspread his face ; 
 his thick, black curls, matted with perspiration, clung to 
 his hollow temples and cheeks ; great drops of sweat beaded 
 upon his corrugated brow ; a quiver convulsed his mouth 
 and chill ; every circumstance betiayed how severely, even 
 in that swoon-like state, he suffered ! 
 
 Herbert drew a camp-stool and sat down beside his mat, 
 resolving not to break that greatly needed rest, but to wait 
 patiently until the sleeper should awake. 
 
 Again I say that I know nothing about mesmerism, 
 but T have seen strange effects produced quite unconsciously 
 by the ^Drescnce of one person upon another. And in a 
 few minutes after Herbert took his seat beside Traverse it 
 was noticeable that the face of the sleeper lost its look of 
 pain, and his rest grew deep and calm. 
 
 Herbert sat watching that pale, calm, intellectual face, 
 thanking heaven that his mother in her distant home knew 
 nothing of her boy's deadly peril ; and praying heaven that 
 its justice might be vindicated in the deliverance of this 
 victim from the snares of those who sought his life. 
 
 For more than an hour longer Traverse slept the deep 
 sleep of exhaustion, and then calmly awoke. On seeing 
 Herbert sitting beside him, he smiled sadly, saying : 
 
 You here, Herbert ! How kind of you to come ! Well, 
 Herbert, you see they have succeeded, as I knew they 
 would ; that was what I wished to tell you about, when I 
 v/as so abruptly ordered away. I do believe it was done on 
 purpose to prevent my telling you. I really think I have 
 been surrounded by spies to report and distort every word 
 and look and gesture. If our company had only watched 
 the enemy with half the vigilance with which they watched 
 
A FATAL HATKED. 
 
 505 
 
 me, that party of emigrants would not liave been cut off on 
 tlie plains/^ 
 
 Traverse/^ said Herbert, solemnly taking the hand of 
 his friend^ vjere you caught sleeping on your post 
 
 Ay I sleeping like death, Herbert.'^ 
 Herbert dropped the hand of his friend, covered his face 
 with his own, and groaned aloud. He could not help it ! 
 
 I told you that they had resolved upon my dti-ath, 
 Herbert. I told you that I should be pushed into a shame- 
 ful grave I'^ 
 
 Oh, no, no, the Lord forbid ! but tell me all about it, 
 Traverse, that I may understand and know how to pro- 
 ceed,^' said Herbert, in a broken voice. 
 
 " Well, I need not tell you how I have been insulted, 
 oppressed and persecitted by those two men, for you know 
 that already." 
 
 Yes, yes r 
 
 It really soon became apparent to me that they were 
 resolved, if possible, to exasperate me to desert, to retort, 
 or to commit some other fatal act of insubordination, or 
 violence. Yet, for the sake of my dear mother and Clara, 
 I did \iolence only to my own natural manhood, and bore 
 it all with the servility of a slave." 
 
 ^' "With the submission of a saint, dear Traverse ; and 
 in doing so you followed the divine precept and example of 
 Our Saviour, who, when accused, railed upon and buffeted, 
 ^opened not his mouth/' And in his forbearance, dear 
 Traverse, there was as much of God-like dignity as there 
 was of saintly patience. Great respect is as often mani- 
 fested in forbearance as in resentment," said Herbert, 
 soothingly. 
 
 But you see it availed me notliing ; here I am under 
 a charge to which T plead guilty, and the penalty of which 
 is — death !" replied Traverse, in despair. 
 
 " Tell me how it was, Traverse I Your persecutions 
 and your patience I knew before ; but what are the circum- 
 
506 
 
 A FATAL HATRED. 
 
 stances tliat led to your present position. That your mis- 
 fortune is the result of a concerted plan, on the part of Le 
 Noir and his tool, I partly see ; but I wish you to put me 
 in possession of all the facts, that I may see in what man- 
 ner I may be able to assist you.^^ 
 
 Ah, Herbert, I thank you, most faithful of friends ; 
 but I doubt whether you can assist me in any other man- 
 ner than in being kind to my poor mother and my dear 
 Clara when I am gone — for ah, old playmate ! the act can 
 be too surely proved upon me, and the penalty is certain — 
 and it is death !" said the poor boy, deeply sighing. 
 Herbert groaned, and said : 
 
 But tell me at least the history of the four days pre- 
 ceding your arrest. 
 
 I will. Let me see — this is Friday. Well, until this 
 morning's fatal sleep, I had not slept since Sunday night. 
 Monday was passed in the usual routine of military duty. 
 Monday evening I was sent on a reconnoitering expedition 
 to the old castellated Spanish fort of the Casa de Mata, that 
 occupied the whole night. On Tuesday morning I was 
 selected to attend the messenger who went with the flag of 
 truce into the city to carry our general's letter of expostula- 
 tion to Santa Anna, which employed the whole day. On 
 Tuesday night, without having had an hour's rest in the 
 interval, I was put on guard. Wednesday morning I was 
 sent with a party to escort an emigrant caravan across the 
 marsh to the village of Churubusco. Wednesday afternoon 
 you saw me on guard and I told you that I had not slept 
 one hour for three days and nights V 
 
 " Yes ; you looked ill enough to be ordered on the sick 
 list.'' 
 
 Yet, listen : Thoroughly exhausted as I was, on Wed- 
 nesday night I was ordered to join a party to go on a secret 
 reconnoitering expedition to the Molino-del-Rey. On Thurs- 
 day morning I was sent out with another party on a foraging 
 tour. On Thursday night I was sent in attendance upon the 
 
A FATAL HATT^ED. 
 
 officer ayIio carriecl despatches to General Quitman. On 
 Friday morning I was sent on guard between the hours of 
 four and eight I'* 
 
 Oh, heaven ! what an infamous abuse of military 
 authority exclaimed Herbert, indignantly. 
 
 Herbert, in my life I have sometimes suffered with 
 hunger, cold and pain, and have some idea of what starv- 
 ing, freezing and torture may be ; but among all the ills to 
 which flesh is heir, I doubt if there is one so trying to the 
 nerves and brain of man as enforced and long continued 
 vigilance, when all his failing nature sinks for want of 
 sleep. Insanity and death must soon be the result.'' 
 
 " Humph I go on ! tell me about the manner of their 
 finding you/'' said Herbert, scarcely able to repress his 
 indignation. 
 
 ^'TTell, when after — lot me see — eighty-four — ninety — 
 ninety-six hours of incessant watching, riding and walking, 
 I was set on guard to keep the morning watch between 
 four o'clock and eight, ' my whole head was sick and my 
 whole heart faint / my frame was sinking ; my soul could 
 scarcely hold my body upright. In addition to this physi- 
 cal suffering was the mental anguish of feeling that these 
 men had resolved upon my death, and thinking of my dear 
 mother and Clara, whose hearts would be broken by my 
 fall. Oh ! the thought of them at this moment quite 
 unmans me ! I must not reflect ! TTell, I endeavored 
 with all the faculties of my mind and body to keep awake. 
 I kept steadily pacing to and fro, though I cotild scarcely 
 drag one limb after the other ; or even stand upright ; 
 sleep would arrest me while in motion, and I wotild drop 
 my musket, and wake up in a panic, with the impression 
 of some awful, overhanging ruin appalling my soul. Her- 
 bert, will you think me a miserably weak wi'etch if I tell 
 you that that night was a night of mental and phvsical 
 horrors ! Brain and nerves seemed in a state of dis- 
 organization 'j thought and emotion were chaos ; the rela- 
 
508 
 
 A FATAL HATRED. 
 
 tioiis of soul and body broken up. I liad but one strong, 
 clear idea, namely, that I must keep awake at all costs, or 
 bring shameful death upon myself and disgrace upon my 
 family. And even in the very midst of thinking this I 
 would fall asleep !" 
 
 ''ISTo power within yourself could have prevented it; 
 indeed you had to drop into sleep or death r 
 
 I pinched myself, I cut my flesh, I burned my skin, 
 but all in vain ! Nothing could withstand the overwhelm- 
 ing power of sleep that finally conquered me about five 
 o'clock tliis morning. Then, in the midst of a delightful 
 dream of mother and Clara, and home, I was roused up by 
 a rude shake, and woke to find my musket fallen from my 
 hands, and my captain and colonel standing over me ! It 
 was several minutes before I could travel back from the 
 pleasant land of sleep and dreams and realize my real posi- 
 tion. When I did, I had nothing to say. The inevitable 
 ruin I felt had come, and crushed me into a sort of dumb 
 despair. T^or did my superior officers reproach me — their 
 revenge was too perfect ! The captain called a sergeant to 
 take my gun, and I was marched off to my present prison. 
 And, Herbert, no sooner was I left alone here than sleep 
 overcame me again, like a strong man, and despite all the 
 gloom and terror of my situation, despite all my thoughts 
 of home and mother and Clara, I slept like a tired child ! 
 But this awakening ! Oh ! this awakening, Herbert V 
 
 Be of good courage ! Let us hope that Heaven will 
 enable us to confound the plots of the evil, and save you 
 
 '^Ah, Herbert, that will be impossible ! The dutv of a 
 soldier is clear and stern ; his punishment, if lie fails in it, 
 swift and sure. At the word of command, he must march 
 into the very jaws of death, as is right ! He must die or 
 madden for the want of rest, rather than fall asleep on his 
 post, for if he does, his punishment is certain and shame- 
 ful death ! Oh, my mother ! oh, Clara ! would to Heaven 
 I had fallen at Vera Cruz or Churubusco^ rather than live 
 
A FATAL HATRED. 
 
 509 
 
 to bring this dreadful sorrow upon you cried Traverse^ 
 coverin:: his convulsed face with his hands. 
 
 •■' C'h: :-- up, cheer up, old comrade ! All is not lost 
 that is endangered, and we shall save you yet \'' 
 
 ^' Herbert yon Jcnovj it is impossible I*' 
 Xo, I do not know any such thing I"' 
 You know that I shall be tried to-day and sliot 
 to-morrov: ! — Oh, Herbert I never let my dear ones at home 
 know huw I shall die ! Tell them that I f>^ll before Che- 
 piilrepec — which will be literally true, you know I Ob, my 
 mother I Oh, my dear Clara I shall I never, never see you 
 more ! never hear your sweet voices calling me ! never feel 
 the kind clasping of your hands again ? — Is this the end of 
 a life of aspiration and endeavor ? Is this the comfort and 
 happiness I was to bring you ? — early bereavement, dishon- 
 ored, names and broken hearts I'"* 
 
 ^' I tell yon, no ! You shall be saved I I say it I'"" . 
 Ah, it is imiX'Ssible I"'" 
 
 ''Xo, it is only very diffictilt — so very diffici'.U; tliat I 
 sliaU he sure to accornjjlisli it 
 
 ^•'T\'liat a paradox 
 
 ••'It is a truth ! Things difficult — almost to impossi- 
 bility can always be accomplished ! AVrite that upon your 
 t:..\'l':-:s, for it is a valuable truth ! And now cheer np, for 
 I bring you letters from Clara and yottr mother.'' 
 
 '•'Letters I from Clara I and mother I Oh, give them to 
 me I'' exclaimed the young man, eagerly. 
 
 Herbert handed them, and Traverse eagerly broke the 
 seals one after another and devoured the contents. 
 
 ••' They are well I They are well and happy ! Oh, 
 thank God they are so ! Oh, Herbert, never let them 
 know how I shall die I If they thiuk I fell honorably in 
 battle, they will get over it in time : but if they kn^-.w I 
 died a convict's death, it will break their hearts I Oh, 
 Herbert I my dear friend I by all our boyhood's love I never 
 
510 
 
 THE COTJRT MARTIAL. 
 
 let my poor mother and dear Clara know the manner of my 
 death cried Traverse, in an imploring voice. 
 
 Before he could say another word or Herbert could 
 answer, an orderly sergeant entered and put into Major 
 Greyson's hands a paper that proved to be a summons for 
 liim to attend immediately at headquarters to serve upon 
 a court martial, to try Private Traverse Eocke upon the 
 charge of sleeping on his post. 
 
 ^'^This is done on purpose to prevent me becoming a 
 witness for the defense V' whispered Herbert to his friend ; 
 
 but take courage ! We will see yet whether they shall 
 succeed 1" 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 THE COURT MARTIAL. 
 
 ** I wish I could 
 Meet all my accusers with as good excuse, 
 As well as I am certain I can clear 
 
 Myself of this." — Shakespeare. 
 
 PuRSUAKT with the general orders issued from head- 
 quarters, the court martial, consisting of thirteen officers, 
 convened at Tacubaya, for the trial of Traverse Eocke, 
 private in the Eegiment of Infantry, accused of sleep- 
 ing on his post. 
 
 It was a sultry morning, early in September, and by 
 seven o'clock the drum was heard beating before the Archi- 
 episcopal palace, where it was understood the trial involv- 
 ing life or death, would come off. 
 
 The two sentinels on guard before the doors and a few 
 officers off duty, loitering about the verandas, were the only 
 persons visible near the well-ordered premises, until the 
 
THE COURT MAETIAL. 
 
 511 
 
 members of the conrt martial, witli tlie prosecutors and 
 witnesses, began to assemble and pass in. 
 
 WirMn a lof cy apartment of the bnilding, whicli T^'as 
 probably at one time the great dining-hall of the priests, 
 were collected some twenty persons, comprising the court 
 martial and its attendants. 
 
 An extension-table covered with green cloth occupied 
 the middle of the loug room. 
 
 At the head of this table sat General AV., the president, 
 of the court. On his right and left, at the sides of the 
 table, were aiTauged the other members according to their 
 rank. 
 
 At a small table, near the right hand of the President, 
 stood the Judge Advocate, or prosecutor on behalf of the 
 United States. 
 
 At the door stood a sentinel on guard, and near him two 
 or three orderly sergeants, in attendance upon the officers. 
 
 The Judge Advocate opened the court by calling over 
 the names of the members, beginning with the President 
 and ending with the youngest officer present, and recording 
 them as they responded. 
 
 This preliminary settled, orders were despatched to bring 
 the prisoner, prosecutor and witnesses into court. 
 
 And in a few minutes entered Colonel Le Xoir, Captain 
 Znten, Lieutenant Adams and Sergeant Baker. They were 
 accommodated with seats near the left hand of the Presi- 
 dent. 
 
 Lastly, the prisoner was brought in, guarded, and placed 
 standing at the foot of the table. 
 
 Traverse looked pale, from the severe effects of excessive 
 fatigue and anxiety ; but he deported himself with firmness 
 and dignity, bowed respectfully to the court and then drew 
 his stately form up to its fullest height, and stood awaiting 
 the proceedings. 
 
 The Judge Advocate, at the order of the President, 
 commenced and read the warrant for holding the court. 
 
512 
 
 THE COURT MARTIAL. 
 
 He then read over the names of the members, commencing 
 as before, with the President, and descending through the 
 gradations of rank to the youngest officer, and demanded 
 of the prisoner whether he had any cause of challenge, or 
 took any exception to any member present, and if so, to 
 declare it, as was his privilege. 
 
 Traverse lifted his noble head and keen eyes, and looked 
 slowly around, in turn, upon each officer of the court-mar- 
 tial. 
 
 They might all be said to be -strangers to him, since he 
 knew them only by sight — all except his old acquaintance, 
 Herbert Greyson, who sat first at the left hand of the Pres- 
 ident, and who returned his look of scrutiny with a gaze 
 full of encouragement. 
 
 I find no cause of challenge, and take no exception to 
 any among the officers composing this court," answered 
 Traverse, again bowing, with such sweetness and dignity in 
 tone and gesture that the officers, in surprise, looked — 
 first at the prisoner, and then at each other. ISTo one could 
 doubt that the accused, in the humble garb of a private 
 soldier, was nevertheless a man of education and refine- 
 ment — a true man both in birth and breeding. 
 
 As no challenge was made, the judge-advocate pro- 
 ceeded to administer to each of the members of the court 
 the oath prescribed by the Articles of A¥ar, to the intent 
 that they should try " the matter before them, between the 
 prisoner and the United States, according to the evidence, 
 without fear, favor, or aft'ection.^^ 
 
 This oath was taken by each member holding up his 
 right hand, and repeating the words after the officer. 
 
 The court then being regularly constituted, and every 
 preliminary form observed, the judge-advocate arose and 
 directed the prisoner to listen to the charge brought against 
 him and preferred by the colonel of his regiment, Gabriel 
 Le Noir. 
 
 Traverse raised his head and fixed his eagle eyes upon the 
 
THE COURT MARTIAL. 
 
 513 
 
 [)ios8(,;utor, who stood beside the judge-advocate ; while the 
 hitter, ill an audible voice, read the accusation, charging 
 the prisoner with willful neglect of duty — in that he, the 
 said Traverse Eocke, on the night of the first of September, 
 being placed upon guard at the north-western outpost of 
 the infantry quarters at Tacubaya, did fall asleep upon his 
 post, thereby endangering the safety of the quarters and 
 violating the 46th Article of War. 
 
 To which charge the prisoner, in a firm voice replied : 
 Not guilty of willful neglect of duty, though found 
 siting upon my post/^ 
 
 The judge-advocate then cautioned all witnesses to with- 
 draw from the court and come only as they were called. 
 They withdrew ; and he then arranged some preliminaries 
 
 of the examination, and called in Capt. Zuten, of the 
 
 regiment of infantry. 
 
 This witness was a short, coarse-featured, red-haired 
 person, without intellect enough to enable him to conceal 
 the malignity of his nature. 
 
 He testified that on Thursday, the first of September, 
 Traverse Eocke, private in his company, was ordered on 
 guard at the north-western outpost of the quarters, between 
 the hours of four and eight A. M. That about five o^clock 
 on the same morning, he, Joseph Zuten, in making his 
 usual rounds, and being accompanied on tliat occasion by 
 Colonel Gabriel Le Noir, Lieutenant Adams, and Sergeant 
 Baker, did surprise Private Traverse Eocke asleep on his 
 post, leaning against the sentry-box with his musket at his 
 feet. 
 
 This witness was cross-examined by the judge-advocate 
 — who, it is known, combines in his own person the office 
 of prosecutor on the part of the United States and counsel 
 for the prisoner — or rather, if he be honest, he acts as im- 
 partial inquirer and arbiter between the two. 
 
 As no new facts were gained by the cross-examination. 
 
514 
 
 THE OOTTRT MABTIAIi. 
 
 tlie judge-advocate proceeded to call the next witness, Col- 
 onel Le J^oir. 
 
 Here, then, was a gentleman of most prepossessing 
 exterior as well as of most irreproachable reputation ! 
 
 In brief, his testimony corroborated that of the forego- 
 ing witness as to the finding of the prisoner asleep on his 
 post at the time and place specified. In iionor of his high 
 social and military standing, this witness vais not cross- 
 examined. 
 
 The next called was Lieutenant AdamS; ■who corrobo- 
 rated the evidence of former witnesses. The last person 
 examined was Sergeant Baker, whose testimony corre- 
 sponded exactly to that of all who had gone before him. 
 
 The Judge Advocate then briefly summed u]) the case 
 on the part of the United States — first by reading the 46th 
 Article of War, to wit, that : 
 
 Any sentinel who shall be found sleeping on his post, 
 or shall leave it before he shall be regularly relieved, shall 
 suffer death,^" etc., etc., etc. 
 
 And secondly, by reading the recorded evidence to the 
 effect that — 
 
 " Traverse Rocke had been found by competent witness 
 sleeping on his post.^^ 
 
 And concluded by saying : 
 
 '^Gentlemen, officers of the court-martial, here is the 
 law and here is the fact both proven, and it remains for the 
 court to find a verdict in accordance to both." 
 
 The prisoner was then put upon his defense. 
 
 Traverse Eocke drew himself up and said, that — the 
 TEUTH, like the blessed sun, must, on its shining forth, 
 dispel all clouds of error ; that, trusting in the power of 
 truth, he should briefly relate the history of the preceding 
 seven days. And then he commenced and narrated the 
 facts with w^hich the reader is already acquainted. 
 
 Traverse was interrupted several times in the course of 
 his narrative by the President, General W., a severe 
 
THE COURT MAKTTAL. 
 
 515 
 
 martinet, who reminded him that an attempt to criminate 
 his superior officers would injure his cause before the court. 
 
 Traverse, bowing, as in duty bound, to the President at 
 every fresh interruption, nevertheless proceeded straight on 
 with his narrative to its conclusion. 
 
 The defense being closed, the Judge Advocate arose, as 
 was his privilege, to have the last word. He stated that if 
 the prisoner had been oppressed or aggrieved by his superior 
 officer, his remedy lay in the 35th of the Articles of War, 
 providing that any soldier who shall feel himself wronged 
 by his captain, shall complain thereof to the colonel of his 
 regiment. 
 
 To this the prisoner begged to reply that he had con- 
 sidered the colonel of his regiment his personal enemy, and 
 as such could have little hope of the issue, even if he had 
 had opportunity afforded him, of appealing to that author- 
 ity. 
 
 The Judge Advocate expressed his belief that this com- 
 plaint was vexatious and groundless. 
 
 And here the evidence was closed, and the prosecutor, 
 prisoner and witnesses dismissed, and the court adjourned 
 to meet again to deliberate with closed doors. 
 
 It was a period of awful suspense with Traverse Kocke. 
 The prospect seemed dark for him. 
 
 The FACT of the offence, and the law affixing the 
 penalty of death to that offence was established, and as the 
 Judge Advocate truly said, nothing remained but for the 
 court to find their verdict, in accordance to both- 
 Extenuating circumstances there were certainly ; but 
 extenuating circumstances were seldom admitted in court^s- 
 martial, the law and practice of which were severe, to the 
 extent of cruelty. 
 
 Another circumstance against him, was the fact that it 
 did not require an unanimous vote to render a legal verdict ; 
 but that if a majority of two-thirds should vote for convic- 
 tion, the fate of the prisoner would be sealed. Traverse 
 
616 
 
 THE VERDICT. 
 
 had but one friend in the court, and what could his single 
 voice do against so many ? — Apparently nothing ; yet, as 
 the prisoner on leaving the court-room, raised his eyes to 
 that friend, Herbert Greyson returned the look with a 
 glance of more than encouragement — of triumph ! 
 
 CHAPTER LHI. 
 
 THE VERDICT. 
 
 We must not make a scare-crow of the law, 
 Setting it up to frighten birds of prey ; 
 And let it keep one shape till custom makes it " 
 Their perch and not their terror." — Shakespeare. 
 
 The members of a court martial sit in the double 
 capacity of jurors and judges ; as jurors they find the facts, 
 and as judges they award the punishment. Yet, their ses- 
 sion with closed doors was without the solemn formality 
 that the uninitiated might have supposed to attend a grave 
 deliberation upon a matter of guilt or innocence involving 
 a question of life or death. 
 
 No sooner were the doors closed that shut out the ^'vul- 
 gar crowd, than the ^^higli and mighty officials imme- 
 diately fell into easy attitudes, and engaged in conversation 
 upon the weather, the climate, yesterday's dinner at Gene- 
 ral Cushion's quarters, the claret, the cigars and the Mexi- 
 can signoritas. 
 
 They were presently recalled from this easy chat by the 
 President, a severe disciplinarian, who reminded them 
 rather sharply of the business upon which they had conr 
 vened. 
 
THE VEEDIOT. 
 
 517 
 
 The officers immediately wheeled themselves around in 
 the chairs, faciug the table, and fell into order. 
 
 The Judge Advocate seated himself at his detached 
 stand, opened his book, called the attention of the court, 
 and commenced and read over the whole record of the evi- 
 dence and the proceedings up to this time. 
 
 The President then said : 
 
 '*For my own part, gentlemen, I think this quite a 
 simple matter, requiring but little deliberation. Here is 
 the fact of the offence proved, and here is the law upon 
 that offence clearly defined. ISTothiug seems to remain for 
 us to do but to bring in a verdict in accordance with the 
 law and the fact/^ 
 
 Several of the older officers and sterner disciplinarians 
 agreed with tlie President, who now said : 
 
 I move tliat the vote be immediately taken upon this 
 question. 
 
 To this also, the elder officers assensed. And the Judge 
 Advocate was preparing to take the ballot, when one of the 
 younger members arose and said : 
 
 Mr. President and gentlemen, there are mitigating 
 circumstances attending this offence, which, in my opinion, 
 should be duly weighed before making up our ballot.'^ 
 
 Lieutenant Lovel, when your hair has grown white in 
 the service of your country, as mine has, and when your 
 skin is mottled with the scars of a score of well fought fields, 
 you will find your soft theories corrected by hard experience, 
 and you will know that in the case of a sentinel sleeping 
 upon his post, there can be no mitigating circumstances ; 
 that nothing can palliate such flagrant and dangerous 
 neglect, involving the safety of the whole army ; a crime 
 that martial law and custom has very necessarily made 
 punishable by death, said the President, sternly. 
 
 The young lieutenant sat down abashed, under the 
 impression that he had betrayed himself into some act of 
 gross impropriety. This was his first appearance in the 
 
518 
 
 THE VERDICT. 
 
 character of juror and judge ; he was literally ^'unaccus- 
 tomed to public speaking/^ and did not hazard a reply. 
 
 Has any other gentleman any views to advance before 
 we proceed to a general ballot ?" inquired tlie President. 
 
 Several of the officei-s whispered together, and then 
 some one replied that there seemed to be no reason why 
 the vote should not be immediately taken. 
 
 Herbert Greyson remained perfectly silent. Why he 
 did not speak tlien, in reply to this adjuration, — why, in- 
 deed, he had not spoken defore, in support of Lieutenant 
 LoveFs views in favor of his friend, I do not know to this 
 day ; though I mean to ask him the first time I have the 
 opportunity. Perhaps he was inclined to dramatic effects : 
 but whatever might have been the motive, he continued 
 silent, offering no obstacle to the immediate taking of the 
 vote. 
 
 The Judge Advocate then called the court to order for 
 the taking of the ballot, and proceeded to question the 
 members in turn, commencing with the youngest. 
 
 How say you, Lieutenant Lovel, is the prisoner on 
 trial guilty or not guilty of the offence laid to his charge V' 
 
 Guilty,^' responded the young ofiicer, as his eyes 
 filled with tears of pity for the other young life against 
 which he had felt obliged to record his vote. 
 
 "If that is the opinion of one who seems friendly to 
 him, what will be the votes of the other stern judges 
 said Herbert Greyson to himself, in dismay. 
 
 What say you. Lieutenant Jones — is the prisoner 
 guilty or not guilty ?" said the Judge Advocate, proceed- 
 ing with the ballot. 
 
 Guilty r 
 
 Lieutenant Cragin 
 Guilty 
 
 Lieutenant Evans 
 " Guilty r 
 Lieutenant Goffe?'' 
 
619 
 
 Guilty r 
 " Lieutenant Hesse r^* 
 Guilty '/^ 
 
 Captain Kingsley V* 
 Guilty 
 
 Captain McConkey 
 Guilty I'"^ 
 Captain Lucas 
 Guilty \'' 
 
 Captain O'Donnelly \" 
 Guilty !'"' 
 " Captain Eozencrantz V* 
 Guilty 
 
 Major Greyson 
 *^NOT GUILTY V' 
 
 Erery ofBcer sprang to his feet and gazed in astonisb.- 
 ment^ cousternation and indignant inquiry upon the Ten- 
 derer of this unprecedented Tote. 
 
 The president was the first to speak^ breaking out v'ith : 
 
 ^' Sir ! Major Greyson ! your vote, sir I in direct defi- 
 ance of the fact and the law upon it, is unprecedented. , sir, 
 in the whole history of courts -martial 
 
 ^' I record it as uttered, nevertheless," replied Herbert. 
 And your oath, sir ! what becomes of your oath as a 
 judge of this court !" 
 
 I regard my oath in my vote !" 
 
 ^' What, sir," inquired Captain McConkey, ''do you 
 mean to say that you have rendered that vote in accordance 
 with the facts elicited in evidence, as by your oath you were 
 bound to do ?" 
 
 '-'Yes." 
 
 How, sir ! do you mean to say that the prisoner did 
 not sleep on his post ?" 
 
 '' Certainly I do not ; on the contrary, I grant that he 
 did sleep upon his post, and yet I maintain that in doing so 
 he was not guilty !" 
 
520 
 
 THE VERDICT. 
 
 ''Major Greyson plays with us said the President. 
 
 '' By no means, sir ! I never was in more solemn earnest 
 than at present ! Your honor, the President, and gentle- 
 men judges of the court, as I am not counsel for the pris- 
 oner, nor civil officer, nor lawyer, of whose interference 
 courts-martial are proverbially jealous, I beg you will permit 
 me to say a few words in support, or at least, I will say, in 
 explanation of the vote which you have characterized as an 
 opinion in opposition to fact and law, and unprecedented in 
 the whole history of courts-martial." 
 
 ''Yes, it is ! it is \" said G-eneral W., shifting uneasily 
 in his seat. 
 
 " You heard the defense of the prisoner," continued 
 Herbert ; " you heard the narrative of his wrongs and suf- 
 ferings, to the truth of which his very aspect bore testimony. 
 I will not here express a judgment as to the motives that 
 prompted his superior officers, I will merely advert to the 
 facts themselves, in order to prove that the prisoner, under 
 the circumstances, could not, with his human power, have 
 done otherwise than he did." 
 
 " Sir, if the prisoner considered himself wronged by his 
 captain, which is very doubtful, he could have appealed to 
 the colonel of his regiment !" 
 
 "Sir, the articles of war accord him that privilege. 
 But is it ever taken advantage of ? Is there a case on 
 record where a private soldier ventures to make a danger- 
 ous enemy of his immediate superior by complaining of his 
 captain to his colonel. Nor in this case would it have been 
 of the least use, inasmuch as this soldier had well founded 
 reasons for believing the colonel of his regiment his personal 
 enemy, and the captain as the instrument of this enmity." 
 
 "And you. Major Greyson, do you coincide in the 
 opinion of the prisoner ? Do you think that there con Id 
 have been anything in common between the colonel of the 
 regiment and the poor private in the ranks, to explain such 
 
THE VERDICT. 
 
 521 
 
 an equalizing sentiment as enmity ?" inquired Captain 
 O'Donnellj. 
 
 "1 answer distinctly, 3'es, sir ! In the first place, this 
 poor private is a young gentleman of birth and education, 
 the heir of one of the most important estates in Virginia, 
 and the betrothed of one of the most lovely girls in the 
 world. In both these capacities he has stood in the way of 
 Colonel Le 'Noiv, standing between him and the estate on 
 the one hand, and between him and the young lady on the 
 other. He has disappointed Le Noir both in love and 
 ambition. And he has thereby made an enemy of the man 
 who has besides the nearest interest in his destruction. 
 Gentlemen, what I say now in the absence of Colonel Le 
 Noir, I am prepared to repeat in his presence, and main- 
 tain at the proper time and place. 
 
 '''But how came this young gentleman of birth and 
 expectations to be found in the ranks inquired Captain 
 Eosencrantz, 
 
 How came we to have headstrong sons of wealthy 
 parents, fast young men of fortune, and runaway students 
 from the universities and colleges of the United States, in 
 our ranks ? In a burst of boyish impatience the young 
 man enlisted. Destiny gave him as the colonel of his 
 regiment his mortal enemy. Colonel Le 'Noiv found in 
 Captain Zuten a ready instrument for Iiis malignity. And 
 between them both they have clone all that could possibly 
 be effected to defeat the good fortune and insure the 
 destruction of Traverse Eocke. And I repeat, gentlemen, 
 that what I feel constrained to affirm here in the absence 
 of those officers, I shall assuredly re-assert and maintain in 
 their presence, upon the proper occasion. In fact, I shall 
 bring formal charges against Colonel Le !N"oir and Captain 
 Zuten, of conduct unworthy of officers and gentlemen I" 
 
 But it seems to me that this is not directly to the 
 point at issue," said Captain Kingsley. 
 
 On the contrary, sir, it is the pointy the whole point. 
 
622 
 
 THE VERDICT. 
 
 and only point, as you shall presently see, by attending to 
 the facts that I shall recall to your memory. You and all 
 present must, then, sec that there was a deliberate purpose 
 to effect the ruin of this young man. He is accused of 
 having been found sleeping on his post, the penalty of 
 which, in time of war, is death. Now listen to the history 
 of the days that preceded his fault, and tell me if human 
 nature could have withstood the trial ? 
 
 Sunday night was the last of repose to the prisoner 
 until Friday morning, when he was found asleep on his 
 post. 
 
 " Monday night he was sent with the reconnoitering 
 party to Casa-de-Mata. 
 
 Tuesday he was sent with the officer that carried our 
 Generars expostulation to Santa Anna. At night he was 
 put on guard. 
 
 Wednesday he was sent with another party to protect 
 a band of emigrants crossing the marshes. At night he was 
 sent with still another party to reconnoitre Molino-del- 
 Eey. 
 
 Thursday he was sent in attendance upon the officer 
 that carried despatches to General Quitman, and did not 
 return until after midnight, when, thoroughly worn out, 
 driven indeed to the extreme degree of mortal endurance, 
 he was again, on a sultry, oppressive night, in a still, soli- 
 tary place, set on guard ; where a few hours later he was 
 found asleep upon his post — by whom ? — the colonel of his 
 regiment and the captain of his company, who seemed bent 
 upon his ruin ! — as I hold myself bound to establish before 
 another court martial. 
 
 This result had been intended from the first ! 11 five 
 night^s loss of sleep would not have effected this, fifteen 
 j)robably ivovMj if fifteen would not, thirty would ; or if 
 thirty wouldn't, sixty would ! — and all this Captain Zuten 
 Jiad the pQioer to enforcQ until his doome(5 victim should fall 
 
THE VERDICT. 
 
 523 
 
 into the hands of the 23roTOst-marshal^ and into the arms of 
 death 1 
 
 ^'And now^ gentlemen, in view of all these circnm- 
 stances^. I ask you — "Was Traverse Eocke gnilty of Tvillfiil 
 neglect of duty in dropping asleep on his post ? And I 
 move for a reconsideration, and a new ballot l ' 
 
 '■•'Such a thing is vrirhnut precedent, sir I These miti- 
 gating circiim? ranees may be brought to bear on the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief, and may be embodied in a recommenda- 
 tion to mercy ! they should have no weight in the finding 
 of the verdict," suid the President, ••'which should be in 
 accordance with the fact and the law.'" 
 
 '■^ And wi:h justice and humanity I To find a verdict of 
 guilty against this young man would be to place an un- 
 merited brand upon his spotless name, that no after clem- 
 ency of the Execuiive could wipe otrt I Gentk-men, will 
 you do this ? Xo I I am sure that you will not I And 
 again I move for a new ballot I"' 
 
 " I second the motion I*' said Lieutenant Lovel, rising 
 qui:_ : ;.raged to bc-licvc- in his own first inst;nct^. which 
 had been su favorable. 
 
 '•'Gentlemen/'' said the President, sternly, ''•'this thing 
 is wirh iii: precedent ! In all the annals of courts-martial, 
 withotit precedent l'^ 
 
 •'•' Then, if there no such precedent, it is quire time 
 that such a one were estallisTLecl so that the iron car of 
 literal law should not always roll over and crush justice I 
 Gentlemen, shall we have a new buliut 
 
 ''Yes I yes 1 yes I yes !" were the answers. 
 
 ''It is irregular I it is illegal I ir is unprecedented I a 
 new ballot, never heard of such a thing in forty years of 
 mil' ^ i k I Lord IjLss my soul, what is the service com- 
 ing to : ' 
 
 '•'A new ballot I a new ballot ! a new ballot I'' was the 
 unanimous cry. 
 
 The President groaned in spirit, and recorded a vow 
 
524 
 
 THE VERDICT. 
 
 never to forgive Herbert Greyson for this departure from 
 routine. 
 
 The new ballot demanded by acclamation had to be 
 held. 
 
 The Judge Advocate called the court to order and began 
 anew. The votes were taken as before, commencing with 
 the young lieutenant, who now responded sonorously : 
 
 '"Not Guilty !" 
 
 And so it ran around the entire circle. Not guilty V 
 ''Not guilty ''Not guilty V were the hearty responses 
 of the court. 
 
 The acquittal was unanimous. The verdict was re- 
 corded. 
 
 The doors were then thrown open to the public, and 
 the prisoner called in and publicly discharged from cus- 
 tody. 
 
 The court then adjourned. 
 
 Traverse Rocke threw himself upon the bosom of his 
 friend, exclaiming in a broken voice : 
 
 "I cannot sufficiently thank you ! My dear mother and 
 Clara will do that I" 
 
 "Nonsense!" said Herbert, laughing ; "didn^t I tell 
 you that the Lord reigns, and that the devil is a fool ? This 
 is only the beginning of victories V 
 
THE END OF THE WAE. ' 
 
 525 
 
 CHAPTEE Liy. 
 
 THE END OF THE WAE. 
 
 " Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, 
 Our bruised arms hung up for monuments ; 
 Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, 
 Our dreadful marches to delightful measures, 
 Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front, ' 
 And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds, 
 To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, 
 He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber. 
 To the lascivious pleasing of a lute." — Shakespeakb. 
 
 Tek days later Molino-del-Rey, Casa-de-Mata and Che- 
 pultepec had fallen. The United States forces occupied 
 the city of Mexico. General Scott was in the Grand Plaza, 
 and the American standard waved above the capital of the 
 Monteziimas ! 
 
 Let those who have a taste for swords and muskets, 
 drums and trumpets, blood and fire, describe the desperate 
 battles and splendid victories that led to this final magnifi- 
 cent triumph ! 
 
 My business lies with the persons of our story, to illus- 
 trate whom I must pick out a few isolated instances of 
 heroism in this glorious campaign. 
 
 Herbert Greyson^s division was a portion of the gallant 
 Eleventh that charged the Mexican batteries on Molino- 
 del-Rey. He covered his name with glory, and qualified 
 himself to merit the command of the regiment, which he 
 afterwards received. 
 
 Traverse Eocke fought like a young Paladin. When 
 they were marching into' the very mouths of the cannon that 
 were vomiting fire upon them, and when the young ensign 
 
526 
 
 THE END OF THE WAE. 
 
 of his company was struck down before him, Traverse 
 Rocke took tbe colors from liis falling liancl_, and crying 
 Victory V' pressed onwards and upwards over the dead 
 and the dying, and springing upon one of the guns which 
 continued to belch forth fire, he thrice waved the flag over 
 his head, and then planted it upon the battery ! Captain 
 Zuten fell in the subsequent assault upon Chapultepec. 
 
 Colonel Le ISToir entered the city of Mexico with the 
 victorious army, but on the subsequent day, being engaged 
 in a street skirmish with the leperos or liberated convicts, 
 he fell mortally wounded by a copper bullet, and he was now 
 dying by inches at his quarters near the Grand Cathedral. 
 
 It was on the evening of the 20th of September, six days 
 from the triumphant entry of General Scott into the capi- 
 tal, that Major Greyson was seated at supper at his quarters, 
 with some of his brother officers, v/hen an orderly entered 
 and handed a note to Herbert, which proved to be a com- 
 munication from the surgeon of their regiment, begging him 
 to repair Avithout delay to the quarters of Colonel Le Noir, 
 who, being in extremity, desired to see him. 
 
 Major Greyson immediately excused himself to his com- 
 pany, and repaired to the quarters of the dying man. 
 
 He found Colonel Le Noir stretched upon his bed, in a 
 state of extreme exhaustion and attended by the surgeon 
 and chaplain of his regiment. 
 
 As Herbert advanced to the side of his bed, Le Noir 
 stretched out his pale hand, and said : 
 
 You bear no grudge against a dying man, Greyson 
 Certainly not,^' said Herbert ; especially when he 
 purposes doing the right thing, as I judge you do, from the 
 fact of your sending for me.''' 
 
 Yes, I do, I do,'' replied Le ISToir, pressing the hand 
 that Herbert's kindness of heart could not withhold. 
 
 Le Noir then beckoned the minister to hand him two 
 sealed packets, which he took and laid upon the bed before 
 him. 
 
THE END OF THE WAR, 
 
 627 
 
 Then taking up the larger of the two packets, he 
 placed it in the hands of Herbert Greyson^ saying : 
 
 There, Greyson, I wish you to hand that to your 
 friend, young Kocke, who has received his colors, I under- 
 stand 
 
 '' Yes ; he has now the rank of ensign." 
 Then give this parcel into the hands of Ensign Rocke, 
 with the request, that being freely yielded up, they may 
 not be used in any manner to harass the last hours of a 
 dying man/' 
 
 '' I promise, on the part of my noble young friend, that 
 they shall not be so used,^' said Herbert, as he took posses- 
 sion of the parcel. 
 
 Le N"oir then took up the second packet, which was 
 much smaller, but much more firmly secured than the 
 first, being an envelope of parchment, sealed with three 
 great seals. 
 
 Le Noir held it in his hand for a moment, gazing from 
 the surgeon to the chaplain, and thence down upon the 
 mysterious packet, while spasms of pain convulsed his 
 countenance. At length he spoke : 
 
 ^'This second packet, Greyson, contains a — well, I may 
 as well call it a narrative. I confide it to your care upon 
 these conditions — that it shall not be opened until after my 
 death and funeral ; and that, v/hen it has served its pur- 
 pose of restitution, it may be, as far as possible, forgotten. 
 Will you promise me this 
 
 On my honor, yes,'^ responded the young man, as he 
 received the second parcel. 
 
 '' That is all I have to say, except this — that you seemed 
 to me, upon every account, the most proper person to whom 
 I could confide this trust. I thank you for accepting it ; and 
 I believe that I may safeiy promise that you will find the con- 
 tents of the smaller packet of great importance and advan- 
 tage to yourself and those dear to you,'' 
 
 Herbert bowed in silence. 
 
628 
 
 THE END OF THE WAR. 
 
 That is all. G-ood-bye. I wish now to be alone with 
 our cha2olain/' said Colonel Le ^oiv, extending his hand. 
 
 Herbert pressed that wasted hand ; silently sent up a 
 prayer for the dying wrong-doer ; bowed gravely, and with- 
 drew. 
 
 It was almost eight o^clock, and Herbert thought that 
 he would scarcely have time to find Traverse before the 
 drum should beat to quarters. 
 
 He was more fortunate than he had anticipated ; for he 
 had scarcely turned the Grand Cathedral,, when he came 
 full upon the young ensign. 
 
 Ah ! Traverse, I am very glad to meet you ! I was just 
 going to look for you. Come immediately to my rooms, for 
 I have a very important communication to make to you ! 
 Colonel Le Noir is supposed to be dying. He has given me 
 a parcel to be handed to you, which I shrewdly suspect to 
 contain your intercepted correspondence for the last two 
 years," said Herbert. 
 
 Traverse started and gazed upon his friend in amaze- 
 ment, and was about to express his astonishment, when 
 Herbert, seeing others approach, drew the arm of his friend 
 within his own, and they hurried silently on toward Major 
 Greyson^s quarters. 
 
 They had scarcely got in, and closed the door, and 
 stricken a light, before Traverse exclaimed, impatiently : 
 Give it me I"*^ and almost snatched the parcel from 
 Herbert^s hands. 
 
 Whist ! don't be impatient. I dare say it is all stale 
 news V said Herbert, as he yielded up the prize. 
 
 They sat down together, on each side a little stand sup- 
 porting a light. 
 
 Herbert watched with sympathetic interest while Tra- 
 verse tore open the envelope and examined its contents. 
 
 They were, as Herbert had anticipated, letters from the 
 mother and the betrothed of Traverse — letters that had 
 
THE r^B OF THE WAR. 
 
 529 
 
 arrived and been intercepted^ from time to time, for the 
 pnceding two years. 
 
 There were blanks, also, directed in a hand strange to 
 Trarerse, but familiar to Herbert as that of Old Hurricane ; 
 and those blanks enclosed draughts upon a Xew Orleans 
 bank, payable to the order of Traverse Rocke. 
 
 Traverse pushed all these la iter aside with scarcely a 
 glance and not a word of inquiry, and began eagerly to 
 examine the long-desired, long-withheld letters from the 
 dear ones at home. 
 
 His cheek flamed to see that every seal was broken and 
 the fresh aroma of every heart-breathed word inhaled by 
 others, before they reached himself ! 
 
 ^'Look here, Herbert I look here ! Is not this insuffer- 
 able ? Every fond word of my mother, every delicate and 
 sacred expression of — of regard from Clara, all read by the 
 profane eyes of that man V 
 
 That man is on his death-bed. Traverse, and you 
 must forgive him ! He has restored your letters/'' 
 
 Yes, after their sacred privacy has been profaned ! 
 
 Oh 
 
 Traverse handed his mother's letters over to Herbert, 
 that her foster-son might read them, but Clara's '^sacred 
 epistles, were kept to himself. 
 
 What are you laughing at inquired Traverse look- 
 ing up from his page and detecting Herbert with a smile 
 upon his face. 
 
 " I am thinking that you are not as generous as you 
 were some few years since, when you would have given me 
 Clara herself ; for now you will not even let me have a 
 glimpse of her letters V 
 
 '^Have they not been already sufficiently published ?" 
 said Traverse, with an almost girlish smile and blush. 
 
 "When those cherished letters were all read and put 
 away, Traverse stooped down and fished up," from amidst 
 envelopes, strings, and waste paper, another set of letters. 
 
630. 
 
 THE END OF THE WAR. 
 
 which proved to be the blanks enclosing the checks, of 
 various dates, which Herbert recognized as coming anony- 
 mously from Old Hurricane. 
 
 What in the world is the meaning of all this Herbert? 
 Have I a nabob uncle turned up anywhere, do you ttink ? 
 Look here ! — a hundred dollars — and a fifty, and another — 
 all draughts upon the Planters' Bank, New Orleans, drawn 
 in my favor and signed by Largent & Dor, Bankers ! — I, 
 that haven't had five dollars at a time to call my own for 
 the last two years ! Here, Herbert, give me a good sharp 
 pinch to wake me up ! I may be sleeping on my post 
 again \" said Traverse, in perplexity. 
 
 You are not sleeping. Traverse P 
 
 Are you sure T' 
 
 Perfectly," replied Herbert, laughing. 
 
 Well, then, do you think that crack upon the crown 
 of my head that I got upon Ohapultepec has not injured my 
 intellect ?' 
 
 " Not in the slightest degree V said Herbert, still laugh- 
 ing at his friend's perplexity. 
 
 Then I am the hero of a fairy fcale, that is all — a fairy 
 tale in which waste paper is changed into bank notes, and 
 private soldiers prince-palatines ! Look here \" cried 
 Traverse, desperately, thrusting the bank checks under the 
 nose of his frieud ; do you see those things and know 
 what they are, and will you tell me that everything in this 
 castle doesn't ^ go by enchantment ?' " 
 
 Yes, I see what they are, and it seems to me perfectly 
 natural that you should have them !" 
 
 Humph !" said Traverse, looking at Herbert with an 
 expression that seemed to say that he thought the wits of 
 his friend deranged. 
 
 Traverse," said Major Grey son, did it never occur to 
 you, that you must have other relatives in the world besides 
 your m_otlier ? Well^ I suspect that those checks were ^eiit 
 
\ 
 
 \ THE END OF THE WAR. 531 
 
 by ^me relative of yours or your motlier^s^ who just begins 
 to remember that he has been neglecting you I" 
 
 Herbert^ do yoic know this?" inquired Traverse^ 
 anxiously. 
 
 Jsfo, I do not Icnow it ; I only suspect this to be the 
 case/^ said Herbert, evasively. But what is that which 
 you are forgetting V 
 
 '^Oh ! this — ^yes, I had forgotten it. Let us see what it 
 is V said Traverse, examining a paper that had rested 
 unobserved upon the stand. 
 
 This is an order for my discharge, signed by the 
 Secretary of War, ar^d dated — ha-ha-ha — two years ago I 
 Here I have been serving two years illegally, and if I 
 had been convicted of neglect of duty in sleeping on my 
 post, I should have been shot unlawfully, as that man, 
 when he prosecuted me, knew perfectly well," exclaimed 
 Traverse. 
 
 " That man, as I said before, lies upon his death-bed ! 
 Eemember nothing against him ! But that order for a 
 discharge — now that you are in the way of promotion and 
 the war is over — will you take advantage of it ?" 
 
 Decidedly, yes! for, though 1 am said to have 
 
 acquitted myself passably well at Chapultepec " 
 
 Gloriously, Traverse ! You won your colors glorious- 
 ly." 
 
 Yet, for all that, my true mission is not to break 
 
 raen^s bones, but to set them when broken ! — not to take 
 men's lives, but to save them when endangered. So, to- 
 morrov/ morning, please Providence, I shall present this 
 order to General Butler, and apply for my discharge." 
 
 And you will set out immediately for home ?" 
 The face of Traverse suddenly changed. 
 
 I should like to do so ! Oh, how I should like to see 
 my dear mother and Clara, if only for a day ; but I must 
 not indulge the longing of my heart. I must not go home 
 until I can do so with honor." 
 
632 
 
 THE END OF THE WAR. 
 
 '^And can you not do so now? You, who have 
 triumphed over all your personal enemies, and won your 
 colors at Ohapultepec 
 
 No, for all this was in my legitimate profession ! Nor 
 will I present myself at home until, by the blessing of the 
 Lord, I have done what I set out to do, and establish my- 
 self in a good practice. And so, by the help of Heaven ! 
 I hope within one week to be on my way to New Orleans to 
 try my fortune in that city.^' 
 
 To New Orleans ! — And a new, malignant fever, of 
 some horrible, unknown type, raging there V* exclaimed 
 Herbert. 
 
 So much the more need of a physician ! Herbert, I 
 am not the least nneasy on the subject of infection ! I have 
 a theory for its annihilation.^' 
 
 I never saw a clever young professional man without 
 a theory ! laughed Herbert. 
 
 The drum was now heard beating the tattoo, and the 
 friends separated with hearts full of revived hope. 
 
 The next morning Traverse presented the order of the 
 secretary to the commander-in-chief, and received his dis- 
 charge. 
 
 And then, after writing long, loving and hopeful letters 
 to his mother and betrothed, and entreating the former to 
 try to find out who was the secret benefactor who had sent 
 him such timely aid, Traverse took leave of his friends, 
 and set out for the Southern Queen of Cities, once more to 
 seek his fortune. 
 
 Meantime the United States army continued to occupy 
 the City of Mexico, through the whole of the autumn and 
 the winter. 
 
 General Butler, who temporarily succeeded the illustri- 
 ous Scott in the chief command, very wisely arranged the 
 terms of an armistice with the enemy, that was intended to 
 last two months from the beginning of February ; but 
 
THE END OF THE WAE. 
 
 533 
 
 which happily lasted until the conclusion of the treaty of 
 peace between the two countries. 
 
 Colonel Le ISToir had not been destined soon to die ; his 
 wound, — an inward canker from a copper bullet, that the 
 surgeon had at length succeeded in extracting — took the 
 form of a chronic fester disease. Since the night upon 
 which he had been so extremely ill, as to be supposed 
 dying, and yet had rallied, the doctors felt no apprehen- 
 sions of his speedy death, though they gave no hopes of his 
 final recovery. 
 
 Under these circumstances, there were hours in which 
 Le Noir bitterly regretted his precipitation in permitting 
 those im.portant documents to go out of his own hands. 
 And he frequently sent for Herbert Greyson in private to 
 require re-assurances that he would not open the packet 
 confided to him before the occurrence of the event specified. 
 
 And Herbert always soothed the sufferer by reiterating 
 his promise that so long as Colonel Le lN"oir should survive, 
 the seal of that packet should not be broken. 
 
 Beyond the suspicion that the parcel contained an 
 important confession, Herbert Greysonwas entirely ignorant 
 of its contents. 
 
 But the life of Gabriel Le l^oir was prolonged beyond 
 all human calculus of probabilities. 
 
 He was spared to experience a more effectual repentence 
 than that spurious one into which he had been frightened 
 by the seeming rapid approach of death. And after seven 
 months of lingering illness and gradual decline, during the 
 latter portions of which he was comforted by the society of 
 his only son, who had come at his summons to visit him, in 
 May, 1848, Gabriel Le Noir expired, a sincere penitent, 
 reconciled to God and man. 
 
 And soon afterwards, in the month of May, the treaty 
 of peace having been ratified by the Mexican Congress at 
 Queretaro, the American army evacuated the city and terri- 
 tory of Mexico. 
 
534 
 
 THE FORTUNATE BATH. 
 
 And onr brave soldiers, their " brows crowned with 
 victorious wreaths/' set out upon their return to home and 
 friends. 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 THE FORTUNATE BATH. 
 
 " Heaven has to all allotted, soon or late, 
 Some lucky revolution of their fate ; 
 Whose motions if we watch and guide with skill 
 (For human good depends on human will) 
 Our fortune rolls as from a smooth descent, 
 And from the first impression takes its bent. 
 JSTow, now she meets you with a glorious prize, 
 And spreads her locks before her as she flies." 
 
 — Dryden. 
 
 Meanwhile, what had our young adventurer been 
 doing in all these months between September and June ? 
 
 Traverse with his two hundred dollars had set out for 
 New Orleans about the first of October. 
 
 By the time he had paid his traveling expenses and 
 fitted himself out with a respectable suit of professional 
 black, and a few necessary books, his little capital had 
 diminished three quarters. 
 
 So that when he found himself settled in his new office, 
 in a highly respectable quarter of the city, he had but fifty 
 dollars and a few dimes left. 
 
 A portion of this sum was expended in a cheap sofa- 
 bedstead, a closed washstand and a spirit-lamp coffee-boiler, 
 for Traverse determined to lodge in his office and board 
 himself — which will have this additional advantage/' 
 
THE FORTUNATE BATH. 
 
 535 
 
 said the clieerful fello"^ to himself — for besides saving 
 me from debt, it will keep me always on hand for calls." 
 
 The fever^ though it was October, had scarcely abated ; 
 indeed, on the contrary, it seemed to have revived and 
 increased in virnlency in consequence of the premature 
 return of many people who had fled on its first appearance, 
 and who in comino' back too soon to the infected atmos- 
 phere, were less able to withstand contagion than those 
 who remained. 
 
 That Traverse escaped the plague was owing not so 
 much to his favorite ''^theory" as to his vigorous constitu- 
 tion, pure blood, and regular habits of temperance, clean- 
 liness, and cheerful activity of mind and body. 
 
 Just then the demand was greater than the supply of 
 medical service. Traverse found plenty to do. And his 
 pleasant young face aud hopeful and confident manners 
 won him great favor in sick rooms, where, whether it were 
 to be ascribed to his theory," his practice,'" or to the 
 happy influence of his personal presence, or to all these 
 together, with the blessing of the Lord upon them, — it is 
 certain that he was very successful in raising the sick. It 
 is true that he did not earn five dollars in as many days ; 
 for his practice, like that of almost every young profes- 
 sional man, was among the indigent. 
 
 But what of that ? — what if he were not running up 
 heavy accounts against wealthy patrons ? — he was giving 
 to the poor " — not money, for himself was as poor as any 
 of them — but his time, labor and professional skill ; he 
 was giving to the poor," he was ^'lending to the Lord," 
 and he ^Hiked the security." And the most successful 
 speculator that ever made a fortune on •'Change, never, 
 never invested time, labor or money to a surer advantage. 
 
 And this I would say for the encouragement of all 
 young persons in similar circumstances — do not be impa- 
 tient if the '"^returns" are a little while delayed, for they 
 a-re so siire anii §0 riob tjxat they ^re quite worth waiting 
 
536 
 
 THE FORTUNATE BATH. 
 
 for, nor will the waiting be long. Give your services cheer- 
 fully, also, for ^' the Lord loveth. a cheerful giver." 
 
 Traverse managed to keep out of debt ; he regularly 
 paid his office rent and his laundress' bill ; he daily pur- 
 cliased his mutton chop or pound of beefsteak, and broiled 
 it himself ; he made his cofLee ; swept and dusted his 
 office ; put up his sofa-bed ; blacked his boots ; and oh ! 
 miracle of independence, he mended his own gloves and 
 sewed on his own shirt-buttous — for you may depend that 
 the widow's son knew how to do all these thiugs ; nor was 
 there a bit of hardship in his having so to wait upon him- 
 self, though if his mother and Clara, in their well-provided 
 and comfortable home at Willow Heights, had only known 
 how destitute the young man was of female aid and com- 
 fort how they would have cried ! 
 
 ''!N"o one but himself to mend his poor dear gloves! 
 Oh — oh, boo-hoo-oo 
 
 Traverse never alluded to his straitened circumstances ; 
 but boasted of the comfort of his quarters and the extent 
 of his practice, and declared that his income already ex- 
 ceeded his outlay ; which was perfectly true, since he was 
 resolved to live within it, whatever it might be. 
 
 As the fever began to subside. Traverse's practice de- 
 clined, and about the middle of November his occupation 
 was gone." 
 
 We said that his office was in the most respectable 
 locality in the city ; it was, in fact, on the ground floor of 
 a first-class hotel. 
 
 It happened that one night, near the close of winter, 
 Traverse lay awake on his sofa-bedstcad, turning over in his 
 mind how he should contrive to make both ends meet, at 
 the conclusion of the present term, and feeling as near 
 despondency as it was possible for his buoyant and God- 
 trusting soul to be, when there came a loud ringing at his 
 office bell. 
 
 This reminded him of the stirring days and nights of 
 
THE FOETUXATE BATH. 
 
 537 
 
 the preceding autumn. He started up at once to answer 
 the summons. 
 
 Who's there 
 
 '^s Doctor Eocke in ?" 
 
 ''Yes, what's wanted 
 
 '' A gentleman, sir, in the house here, sir, taken very 
 bad, wants the doctor directly, room number 555/' 
 
 '' Very well, I will be with the gentleman immediately," 
 answered Traverse, plunging his head into a basin of cold 
 water and drying it hastily. 
 
 In five minutes Traverse was in the office of the hotel, 
 inquiring for a waiter to show him up to 555. 
 
 One was ordered to attend him, who led the way up sev- 
 eral flights of stairs, and around divers galleries, until he 
 opened a door and ushered the doctor immediately into the 
 sick room. 
 
 There was a little, old, dried-up Frenchman in a blue 
 night-cap, extended on a bed in the middle of the room, 
 and covered with a white counterpane that clung close to 
 his rigid form as to a corpse. 
 
 And there was a little, old, dried-up Frenchwoman in a 
 brown merino gown and a high-crowned muslin cap, who 
 hopped and chattered about the bed like a frightened mag- 
 pie. 
 
 "On I Monsieur le Docteur !" she screamed, jumping 
 at Traverse in a way to make him start back ; '' Ou, Monsieur 
 le Docteur I I am vera happy you to see ! Voila mon f rere I 
 Behold my brother I He is ill ! he is vera ill ! he is dead I 
 he is vera dead I" 
 
 '' I hope not," said Traverse, approaching the bed. 
 
 ''^Yoila I Behold ! Mon Dieu, he is vera still I he is 
 vera cold ! he is vera dead ! what can yoti, mon frere, my 
 brother to save ?" 
 
 " Be composed. Madam, if you please, and allow me to 
 examine my patient," said Traverse, taking the wrist of the 
 sick man. 
 
538 
 
 THE FORTUNATE BATH. 
 
 "Ma foi ! I know not what you speak * compose/ 
 
 What can you my brother to save ?" 
 
 " Much, I hope, Madam, but you must leave me to exam- 
 ine my patient and not interrupt me,^^ said Traverse, passing 
 his hand over the naked chest of the sick man. 
 
 Mon Dieu ! I know not ^ exam' and ' interrup V and 
 I know not what can you mon fr^re to save \" 
 
 " If you don't hush parley-vooing, the doctor can't 
 nothink, mum," said the waiter, in a respectful tone. 
 
 Traverse found his patient in a bad condition — in a 
 stupor, if not in a state of positive insensibility. The surface 
 of his body was cold as ice, and apparently without the least 
 vitality. If he was not, as his sister had expressed it, " very 
 dead," he was certainly " next to it." 
 
 By close questioning, and by putting his questions in 
 various forms, the doctor learned from the chattering little 
 magpie of a Frenchwoman that the patient had been ill 
 for nine days ; that he had been under the care of Monsieur 
 le Docteur Oartiere ; that there had been a consultation of 
 physicians ; that they had prescribed for him and given 
 him over ; that le Docteur Cartiere still attended him, but 
 was at this instant in attendance as accoucheur to a lady in 
 extreme danger, whom he could not leave ; but Docteur 
 Cartiere had directed them, in his unavoidable absence, to 
 call in the skillful, the talented, the soon to be illustrious 
 young Docteur Rocke, who was also near at hand. 
 
 The heart of Traverse thrilled with joy. The Lord had 
 remembered him. His best skill spent upon the poor and 
 needy who could make him no return, but whose lives he 
 had succeeded in saving, had reached the ears of the cele- 
 brated Dr. 0., who had with the unobtrusive magnanimity 
 of real genius, quietly recommended him to his own 
 patrons. 
 
 Oh ! well, he would do his very best, not only to 
 advance his own professional interests, and to please hia 
 
THE FORTUNATE BATH. 
 
 539 
 
 motlier and Clara, but also to do honor to the magnani- 
 mous Dr. C/s recommendation. 
 
 Here, too, was an opportunity of putting in practice his 
 favorite theory ; but first of all it was necessary to be 
 informed of the preceding mode of treatment and its 
 results. 
 
 So he farther questioned the little, restless magpie, and 
 by ingeniously framed inquiries, succeeded in gaining from 
 her the necessary knowledge of his patient's antecedents. 
 He examined all the medicines that had been used, and in- 
 formed himself of their effects upon the disease. But the 
 most serious diflQculty of all, seemed to be, the impossibility 
 of raising vital action upon the cold, dead skin. 
 
 The chattering little woman informed him that the 
 patient had been covered with blisters that would not 
 "pull,'^ that would not decliniate,'' that would not, what 
 you call it — ^' draiu I" 
 
 Traverse could easily believe this, for not only the skin, 
 but the very flesh of the old Frenchman seemed bloodless 
 and lifeless. 
 
 !N'ow for his theory ! what would kill a healthy man 
 with a perfect circulation, miglit save the life of this dying 
 one, whose whole surface, inch deep, seemed already dead. 
 
 Put him in a bath of mustard wator, as hot as you can 
 bear your own band in, and continne to raise the tempera- 
 ture slowly, watching the effect, for about five minutes. I 
 will go down and prepare a cordial draught to be taken the 
 moment he gets back to bed,'' said Doctor Eocke, who im- 
 mediately left the room. 
 
 His directions were all but two well obeyed. The bath- 
 ing tub was quickly brought into the chamber and filled 
 with water, as hot as the nurse could bear her hand in. 
 Then the invalid was hastilv invested in a slio:ht bathinof 
 gown and lifted by two servants and laid in the hot bath. 
 
 Now, bring quickly, water boiling," said the little, 
 old woman, imperatively. And when a large copper kettle 
 
540 * THE FORTUNATE BATH. 
 
 full was forthcoming, she took it and began to pour a 
 stream of hissing, bubbling water in at the foot of the 
 bath. 
 
 The skin of the torpid patient had been redding for a 
 few seconds, so as to prove that its sensibility was return- 
 ing, and now when the stream from the kettle began to 
 mix with the already vei-y hot bath, and the patient, with 
 the agility of youth and health, skipped out of the tub and 
 into his bed, kicking vigorously, and exclaiming : 
 
 Brigands ! assassins ! you have scalded my legs to 
 death V' 
 
 Glory be to the Lord ! he's saved T cried one of the 
 waiters, a devout Irishman. 
 
 *^ Oiel ! he speaks ! he moves ! he lives I mon frereV 
 cried the little Frenchwoman, going to him. 
 
 ''Ah, murderers! bandits! you\e scalded me to 
 death ! Fll have you all before the commissaire !" 
 
 '' He scolds ! he threatens ! he swears ! he gets well ! 
 mon frere!'* cried the old woman, busying herself to 
 change his clothes and put on his flannel night-gown. 
 They then tucked him up warmly in bed, and put bottles 
 of hot water all around, to keep up this newly stimulated 
 circulation. 
 
 At that moment Dr. Rocke came in, put his hand into 
 the bath-tub, and could scarcely repress a cry of pain and 
 of horror — the water scalded his fingers ! what must it have 
 done to the sick man ! 
 
 *' Good heaven, Madam ? I did not tell you to parboil 
 your patient !" exclaimed Traverse, speaking to the old 
 woman. Traverse was shocked to find how perilously his 
 orders had been executed. 
 
 ^' Eh lien Monsieur! he lives ! he does well! Voila 
 mon frere !" exclaimed the little old woman. 
 
 It was true I the accidental '' boiling bath,'' as it might 
 almost he called, had effected what perhaps no other means 
 in the world could — a restored circulation. 
 
THE FORTUNATE BATH. 
 
 641 
 
 The disease was broken up and the conyalescence of 
 the patient was rapid. And as Traverse kept his own 
 secret concerning the accidental high temperature of that 
 bath^ which every one considered a fearful and a successful 
 experiment, the fame of Dr. Eocke spread over the whole 
 city and country. 
 
 He would soon have made a fortune in New Orleans, had 
 not the hand of destiny beckoned him elsewhere. It hap- 
 pened thus : 
 
 The old Frenchman whose life Traverse had partly by 
 accident and partly by design succeeded in saving, compre- 
 hended perfectly well how narrow his escape from death 
 had been, and attributed his restoration solely to the gen- 
 ius, skill and boldness of his young physician, and was 
 gi-atef Lil accordingly with all a Frenchman's noisy demon- 
 stration. 
 
 He called Traverse his friend, his deliverer, his son ! 
 
 One day, as soon as he found himself stroDg enough to 
 think of pursuing his journey, he called his son into 
 the room and explained to him that he. Doctor Pierre St. 
 Jean, was the proprietor of a private Insane Asylum, very 
 exclusive, very quiet, very aristocratic, indeed, receiving 
 none but patients of the highest rank ; that this retreat was 
 situated on the wooded banks of a charming lake in one of 
 the most healthy and beautiful neighborhoods of East 
 Feliciana ; that he had originally come down to the city 
 to engage the services of some young physician of talent as 
 his assistant, and finally, that he would be delighted ! 
 enraptured ! if ^'his deliverer ! his friend ! his son would 
 accept the post. 
 
 Now, Traverse particularly wished to study the various 
 phases of mental derangement, a department of his profes- 
 sional education that had hitherto been opened to him only 
 through books. 
 
 He explained this to his old friend, the French physi- 
 cian, who immediately went off into ecstatic exclamations 
 
542 
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS MANIAC. 
 
 of joy as, Good ! Great ! ! Grand ! ! V and ''^I shall now 
 repay my good child ! my dear son ! for his so excellent 
 skill V 
 
 The terms of the engagement were soon arranged, and 
 Traverse prepared to accompany his new friend to his 
 ^'beautiful retreat/^ the private mad-house. But first 
 Traverse wrote to his mother and to Clara in Virginia, and 
 also to Herbert Greyson in Mexico, to apprise them of his 
 good fortune. 
 
 CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS MAKIAO. 
 
 " Stay, jailer, stay, and hear my woe : 
 She is not mad who kneels to thee, 
 For what I am, full well I know, 
 
 And what I was, and what should be ; 
 I'll rave no more in proud despair — 
 
 My language shall be calm tho' sad ; 
 But yet I'll truly, firmly swear, 
 I am not mad! no, no, not mad!" 
 
 — M. G. Lewis. 
 
 It was at the close of a beautiful day in early spring 
 that Traverse Eocke, accompanying the old doctor and the 
 old sister, reached the grove on the borders of the beauti- 
 ful lake upon the banks of which was situated the Calm 
 Retreat.'"' 
 
 A large, low, white building, surrounded with piazzas 
 and shaded by fragrant and fiowering southern trees, it 
 looked like the luxurious country seat of some wealthy 
 merchant or planter, rather than a prison for the insane. 
 
THE MY§T]5BI0Ue MANIAO, 
 
 543 
 
 Doctor St. Jeau conducted his young assistant into a 
 broad and cool hall, on each side of which doors opened 
 into spacious rooms, occupied by the proprietor and his 
 household. The cells of the patients, as it appeared, were 
 up stairs. The country doctor and the matron who had 
 been in charge duriug the absence of the proprietor and his 
 sister, now came forward to welcome the party, and report 
 the state of the institution aud its inmates. 
 
 All were as usual, the country doctor said, except 
 " Mademoiselle." 
 
 ^'And what of her, how is Mademoiselle ? — A patient 
 most interesting, Doctor Eocke said the old Frenchman, 
 alternately questioning his substitute and addressing Trav- 
 erse. 
 
 She has stopped her violent ravings, and seems to me 
 to be sinking into a state of stupid despair,"' replied the 
 substitute. 
 
 A patient most interesting, my young friend ! a his- 
 tory most pathetic ; you shall hear of it some time. But 
 come into the parlor. And you, Angele, my sister, ring, 
 and order coffee," said the old Frenchman, leading the way 
 into a pleasant apartment on the right of the hall, furnished 
 with straw matting upon the floor, and bamboo settees and 
 chairs around the walls. 
 
 Here coSee was presently served to the travelers, who 
 soon after retired for the night. 
 
 Traverse's room was a large, pleasant apartment at the 
 end of a wide, long hall, on each side of which we're the 
 doors opening into the cells of the patients. 
 
 Fatigued by his journey. Traverse slept soundly through 
 the night ; but early in the morning he was rudely awakened 
 by the sounds of maniac voices from the cells. Some were 
 crying, some laughing aloud, some groaning and howling, 
 and some holding forth in fancied exhortations. 
 
 He dressed himself quickly and left his room, to walk 
 down the length of the long hall and observe the cells on 
 
544 
 
 THE MYSTEEIOUS MANIAC. 
 
 each side. The doors were at regular intervals, and each 
 door had in its centre a small opening to enable the pro- 
 prietor to look in upon the patients. 
 
 As these were all women, and some of them delicate 
 and refined even in their insanity. Traverse felt shocked at 
 this necessary, if it loere necessary, exposure of their sanctu- 
 ary. 
 
 The cells were in fact small bed rooms, that with their 
 white-washed walls, and white curtained beds and windows, 
 looked excessively neat, clean and cool, but also, it must 
 be confessed, very bare, dreary and cheerless. 
 
 ^' Even a looking-glass would be a great benefit to those 
 poor girls, for I remember that even Clara, in her violent 
 grief, and mother in her life-long sorrow, never neglected 
 their looking-glass, and personal appearance, said Traverse 
 to himself, as he passed down the hall, and resolved that 
 this little indulgence should be afforded the patients. 
 
 And except those first involuntary glances, he scrupu- 
 lously avoided looking in through the gratings upon those 
 helpless women who had no means of secluding themselves. 
 
 But as he turned to go down the stairs, his eyes went 
 full into an opposite cell, and fell upon a vision of beauty 
 and sorrow that immediately rivetted his gaze. 
 
 It was a small and graceful female figure, clothed in 
 deep black, seated by the window, with her elbow resting 
 upon the sill and her chin supported on her hand. Her 
 eyes were cast down until her eye-lashes lay like inky lines 
 upon her snow-white cheek. Her face, of classic regularity 
 and marble whiteness, bore a ghastly contrast to the long 
 eye-lashes, arched eye-brows and silken ringlets, black as 
 midnight. She might have been a statue or a picture, so 
 motionless she sat. 
 
 Conscious of the wrong of gazing upon this solitary 
 woman, Traverse forced his looks away and passed on down 
 stairs, where he again met the old doctor and Mademoiselle 
 Angele at breakfast. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS MANIAC. 
 
 545 
 
 After breakfast. Doctor St. Jean invited his youDg 
 assistant to accompany him on a round of visits to the pa- 
 tients, and they went immediately up to the hall, at the end 
 of which Traverse had slept. 
 
 These are our incurables, but they are not violent ; 
 incurables never are. Poor Mademoiselle ! she has just 
 been conveyed to this ward,'^ said the doctor, opening the 
 door of the first cell on the right at the head of the stairs, 
 and admitting Traverse at once into the presence of the 
 beautiful, black-haired, snow-faced woman, who had so 
 much interested him. 
 
 " This is my friend. Doctor Eocke, Mademoiselle ; 
 Doctor, this is my friend. Mademoiselle Mont De St. 
 Pierre V 
 
 Traverse bowed profoundly, and the lady arose, curtsied 
 and resumed her seat, saying coldly : 
 
 ^'I have told you. Monsieur, never to address me as 
 Mademoiselle ; you persist in doing so ; and I shall never 
 notice the insult again. 
 
 "Ten thousand pardons, Madame ! but if Madame will 
 always look so young ! so beautiful ! can I ever remember 
 that she is a widow ?" 
 
 The classic lip of the woman curled in scorn, and she 
 disdained a reply. 
 
 "I take an appeal to Monsieur Le Docteur — Is not 
 Madame young and beautiful asked the Frenchman, 
 turning to Traverse, while the splendid black eyes of the 
 stranger passed from one to the other. 
 
 Traverse caught the glance of the lady and bowed gravely. 
 It was the most delicate, and proper reply. 
 
 She smiled almost as gravely, and with a much kinder 
 expression than any she had bestowed upon the Frenchman. 
 
 "And how has Madame fared during my absence so 
 long ? The servants — have they been respectful ? have 
 they been observant ? have they been obedient to the will of 
 
546 
 
 THE MYSTEEIOUS MANIAC. 
 
 Madame ? Madame has but to speak !" said the doctor, 
 bowing politely. 
 
 Why should I speak when every word I utter you 
 believe, or affect to believe, to be the ravings of a maniac ? 
 I will speak no more/^ said the lady, turning away her 
 superb dark eyes and looking out of the window. 
 
 Ah, Madame will not so punish her friend, her ser- 
 vant ! her slave V 
 
 A gesture of fierce impatience and disgust was the only 
 reply deigned by the lady. 
 
 ^' Come away ; she is angry and may become dan- 
 geriously excited,^^ said the old doctor, leading the way 
 from the cell. 
 
 Did you tell me this lady is one of the incurables 
 inquired Traverse, when they had left her apartment. 
 
 Bah ! yes, poor girl, vera incurable, as my sister 
 would say."" 
 
 Yet, she appears to me to be perfectly sane, as well as 
 exceedingly beautiful and interesting.-'^ 
 
 Ah, bah ! my excellent ; my admirable ; my inexperi- 
 enced young friend, that is all you know of lunatics. 
 With more or less violence of assertion, they every ono 
 insist upon their sanity ; just as criminals protest their 
 innocence ! Ah, bah ! you sliall go into every cell in this 
 ward, and not find one lunatic among thcm,-'^ sneered the 
 old doctor, as he led the way mto the next little room. 
 
 It was indeed as he had foretold, and Traverse Rocke 
 found himself deeply affected by the melancholy, the 
 earnest, and sometimes the violent manner in which the 
 poor unfortunates protested their sanity, and implored or 
 demanded to bo restored to home and friends. 
 
 ''You perceive,^' said the doctor, with a dry laugh, 
 '' that they are none of them crazy V 
 
 I see,^^ said Traverse, ''but I also detect a very great 
 difference between that lovely woman in the south cell and 
 these other inmates." 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS MANIAC. 
 
 547 
 
 Ball ! ball ! ball ! she is more beautiful ! more accom- 
 plished ! more refined than the others, and she is in one of 
 her lucid intervals ! that is all ! but as to a ditferencc be- 
 tween her insanity and that of other patients, it lies in this, 
 that she is the most hopelessly mad of the whole lot. She 
 has been mad eighteen years 1 
 
 Is it possible V exclaimed Traverse, incredulously. 
 
 She lost her reason at the age of sixteen, and she is 
 now thirty-four — you can calculate 
 
 It is amazing and yery sorrowful ! how beautiful she 
 
 is V 
 
 " Yes ; her beauty was a fatal gift ! It is a sad story ! 
 Ah, it is a sad stoi-y ! You shall hear of it y/hen we get 
 through.''^ 
 
 ^^I can connect no idea of woman^s frailty with that 
 refined and intellectual face,^' said Traverse, coldly. 
 
 ^^Ah, bah ! you are young ! you know not the world ! 
 you ! my innocent, my excellent, my pious young friend 
 said the old doctor, as they crossed the hall to go into the 
 next wing of the building, in which were situated the 
 men^s yrards. 
 
 Traverse found nothing that particularly interested 
 him in this department, and v/hen they had concluded 
 their round of visits, and Avere seated together in the old 
 doctor's study. Traverse asked him for the story of his 
 beautiful patient. 
 
 The doctor shrugged his shonlders. 
 It is a story miserable, as I told you before. A gen- 
 tleman, illustrious, from Virginia, an officer high in the 
 army, and distinguished in the war, he brought this 
 woman to me nearly three years ago. He informed me that 
 — eh bien ! I had better tell you the story in my own 
 manner. This young lady. Mademoiselle Mont de St. 
 Pierre, is of a family noble and distinguished — a relative 
 of this officer, illustrious and brave. At fifteen. Mademoi- 
 selle met a man, handsome and without honor. Ah^ bah ! 
 
548 
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS MANIAC. 
 
 you understand ! at sixteen the child became a fallen 
 angel ! She lost her reason through sorrow and shame ! 
 This relative — this gentleman, illustrious and noble, tender 
 and compassionate — took her to the seclusion of his country 
 house, where she lived in elegance, luxury and honor. But 
 as the years, passed her malady increased ; her presence be- 
 came dangerous ; in a word, the gentleman, distinguished 
 and noble, saw the advertisement of my ' calm retreat,^ my 
 institution incomparable, and he wrote to me. In a word, 
 he liked my terms, and brought to me his young relative, 
 so lovely and so unfortunate. Ah ! he is a good man, this 
 officer so gallant, so chivalrous ; but she is ungrateful !" 
 Ungrateful V 
 
 Ah, bah ! yes ; it is the way with lunatics ! They 
 ever imagine their best friends to be their worst enemies ! 
 The poor, crazed creature fancies that she is the sister-in- 
 law of this officer illustrious ! she thinks that she is the 
 widow of his elder brother, whom she imagines he mur- 
 dered, and that she is the mother of children whom she 
 says he has abducted or destroyed, so that he may enjoy 
 the estate that is her widow's dower and their orphans' 
 patrimony ! That is the reason why she insists on being 
 called Madame instead of Mademoiselle, and we indulge 
 her when we think of it." 
 
 " But all this is very singular 
 
 Ah, bah ! who can account for a lunatic's fancies ? 
 She is the maddest of the whole lot ! Sometimes she used 
 to become so violent^ that we would have to restrain her ! 
 But lately. Doctor Wood tells me, she is quite still ; that 
 we consider a bad sign ; there is always hope for lunatics 
 until they begin to sink into this state, said the doctor, 
 witli an air of competency. 
 
tHE MANIAC^S STOBT. 
 
 CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 THE MAl^IAC^S STORY. 
 
 A scheming villian forged the tale 
 
 That chains me in this dreary cell, 
 My fate unknown, my friends bewail, 
 
 O, doctor, haste that fate to tell ? 
 Oh, haste, ray daughter's heart to cheer, 
 
 Her heart, at once, 'twill grieve and glad 
 To know, tho' chained and captive here, 
 
 I am not mad I I am not mad 1" — M. G. Lewis. 
 
 There is some advantage in having imagination, since 
 that visionary faculty opens the mental eyes to facts that 
 more practical and duller intellects could never see. 
 
 Traverse was young and romantic, and deeply interested 
 *in the doctor's beautiful patient. He, therefore, did not 
 yield his full credulity to the tale told by the " relative 
 illustrious to the old doctor, as to the history and cause 
 of the lady^s madness, or even take it for granted that she 
 was mad. He thought it quite possible that the distin- 
 guished officer^s story might be a wicked fabrication, to 
 conceal a crime, and that the lady^s " crazy fancy might 
 be the pure truth. 
 
 And Traverse had heard to what heinous uses private 
 mad-houses were sometimes put by some unscrupulous men, 
 who wished to get certain women out of their way, yet who 
 shrank from bloodshed. 
 
 And he thought it not impossible that this '^gentleman 
 so noble, so compassionate, and tender, might be just such 
 a man, and this fallen angeP^ such a victim. And he 
 determined to watch and observe. And he farther resolved 
 to treat the interesting patient with all the studious delicacy 
 
530 
 
 THE maniac's STORr. 
 
 and respect due to a refined and accomplislied woman in tlie 
 full possession of her faculties. If she were really mad, 
 this demeanor would not hurt her ; and if she v/ere not 
 mad^ it was the only proper conduct to be observed towards 
 her, as any other must be equally cruel and offensive. Her 
 bodily health certainly required the attendance of a physi- 
 cian, and Traverse had, therefore, a fair excuse for his daily 
 visits to her cell. 
 
 Hisrespeccful manners,his grave bow, and his reverential 
 tone in saying — 
 
 I hope I find you stronger to-day, Madam," seemed to 
 gratify one who had few sources of pleasure. 
 
 I thank you," she would answer, with a softened tone 
 and look, adding yes," or no," as the truth might be. 
 
 One day, after looking at the young physician some time, 
 she suddenly said : 
 
 You never forget ! You alwaj^s address me by my 
 proper title of Madam, and without the touch of irony which 
 others indulge in when Miumoring^ me as they call it ! 
 !N"ow, pray explain to me why, in sober earnest, you give me 
 this title ?" 
 
 Because, Madam, I have heard you lay claim to that 
 title, and I think that you, yourself, of all the world, have 
 the best right to know how you should be addressed," said 
 Traverse, respectfully. 
 
 The lady looked wistfully at him, and said — 
 
 " But my next-door neighbor asserts that ^/ie is a queen ; 
 she insists upon being called 'your majesty.^ Has she, 
 then, the best right to know how she should be addressed ?" 
 
 ''Alas ! no. Madam; and I am pained that you sb.ould 
 do yourself the great wrong to draw such comparisons." 
 
 "Why? Am not I and the 'queen' inmates of the 
 same ward of incurables, in the same lunatic asylum ?" 
 
 " Yes, but not with equal justice of cause. The 
 ' queen ' is a hopelessly deranged, but happy lunatic. You, 
 Madam, are a lady who has retained the full possession o 
 
THE AIAXIAC*S STORT. 
 
 551 
 
 your faculties amid circaimstances and siiiToiiii dings that 
 must have oTer^vhelmed the reason of a breaker mind." 
 
 The ladv looked a: lum in wonder and almost in joy. 
 
 '■''Ah. it v-as not the strength of my mind, it ^ras the 
 strength of the Almighty upon whom my mind was stayed 
 for time and for eternity, that has saved my reason in all 
 these manv years I Bnt how did you know th::t I was not 
 mad ? How do yon know tLat this is anything more than 
 a lucid interval of longer duration than usual she asked. 
 
 '^3Iadam, you will forgive me for having looked at yon 
 60 closely and watched yon so constantly, but I am your 
 physician, yon know 
 
 ^' I have nothing to forgive and mnch to thank yon for, 
 yoting man. Yon have an honest, trnthf ul, frank young 
 face I the only one such that I have seen in eighteen years 
 of sorrow ? Bnt why, then, did yon not believe the 
 doctor ? ^hy did you not take the fact of my insanity 
 upon trust, as others did she asked, fixing her glorions 
 dark eyes inquiringly upon his face. 
 
 Madam, from the fijst moment in which I saw yon, I 
 disbelieved the story of yonr insanity and mentioned my 
 donbts to Doctor St. Jean 
 
 '^Who ridiculed yonr donbts, of course. I can 
 
 readily believe that he did. Doctor St. Jean is not a very 
 bad man ; but he is a charlatan and a dullard ; he 
 received the story of my reported insanity as he received 
 me, as an advantage to his institution ; and he ncTcr gave 
 himself the unprofitable trorible to investigate the circum- 
 stances. I told him^ -^- ;:h about myself as c;ilmly as I 
 now speak to you : hut soniebody else had told him that 
 this truth was the fiction of a deranged imagination, and 
 he found it more convenient and profitable to believe some- 
 body else I But again I ask you, why were not you also, 
 so discreetly obtuse T' 
 
 ^Oladam," said Traverse, blushing ingenuously, '"'I 
 hope you will forgive me for saying that it is impossible 
 
552 
 
 THE maniac's story. 
 
 any one could see you without becoming deeply interested 
 in your fate. Your face. Madam, speaks equally of pro- 
 found sorrows and of saintly resignation. I saw no sign of 
 madness there ! In the calm depths of those sad eyes, 
 lady, I know that the fires of insanity never could have 
 burned. Pardon me that I looked at you so closely ; I was 
 your physician, aud was most deeply anxious concerning 
 my patient.^' 
 
 I thank you ; may the Lord bless you ; perhaps He 
 has sent you here for my relief ; for you are right, young 
 friend ; you are altogether right ; I have been wild with 
 grief, frantic with despair, but never for one hour in the 
 whole course of my life have I been insane.^' 
 
 I believe you. Madam, on my sacred honor, I do V 
 said Traverse, fervently. 
 
 *^ And yet you could get no one about this place to 
 believe you ! They have taken my brother-in-law^s false 
 story, endorsed as it is by the doctor-proprietor, for granted. 
 And just so long as I persist in telling my true story, they 
 will consider me a monomaniac, and so often as the thought 
 of my many wrongs and sorrows, combines with the ner- 
 vous irritability to which every woman is occasionally sub- 
 ject, and makes me rave with imjDatience and excitement, 
 they will report me a dangerous lunatic, subject to periodi- 
 cal atiyacks of violent frenzy; but, young man, even at my 
 worst I am no more mad than any other woman, wild with 
 grief and hysterical through nervous irritation, might at 
 any time become without having her sanity called in ques- 
 tion.'' 
 
 " I am sure that you are not, nor ever could have been, 
 Madam. The nervous excitement of which you speak is 
 entirely within the control of medicine, which mania 
 proper is not. You will use the means that I prescribe and 
 your continued calmness will go far to convince even these 
 dullards that they have been wrong/' 
 
 " I will do everything you recommend ; indeed for some 
 
THE MANIAC'S STOEY. 
 
 55g 
 
 weeks before you came^ I had. put a constraint upon myself 
 and forced myself to be yery still ; but the effect of that 
 was^ that acting upon their theory they said that I was 
 sinking into the last or ' melancholy-mad ^ state of mania, 
 and they put me in here with the incurables/-' 
 
 Lady/'' said Traverse respectfully taking lier hand, 
 *'now that I am acquainted in some slight degree with the 
 story of your heavy wrongs, do not suppose that I will ever 
 leave you, until I see you restored to your friends/^ 
 
 Friends ! ah ! young man, do you really suppose, that 
 if I had friends, I should have been left thus long un- 
 sought ? I have no friends. Doctor Eocke, except your- 
 self, newly sent me by the Lord ! nor any relatives except a 
 young daughter whom 1 have seen but twice in my life ! — 
 once upon the dreadful night when she was born and torn 
 away from my sight, and once about two years ago, when 
 she must have been sixteen years of age. My little daugh- 
 ter does not know that she has a poor mother living, and I 
 have no friends upon earth but you, whom the Lord has 
 sent/' 
 
 And not in vain I^' said Travese, fervently ; though 
 you have no other friends, yet you have the law to protect 
 you. I will make your case knovrn, and restore you to 
 liberty ! Then lady, listen ! I have a good mother to v/hom 
 suffering has taught sympathy with the unfortunate ; and 
 I have a lovely betrothed bride, whom you will for^ve her 
 lover for thinking an angel in woman's form ; and we have 
 a beautiful home among the hills of Virginia; and you 
 shall add to our happiness by living with us.'^ 
 
 The lady looked at Trave]?se Eocke with astonishment 
 and incredulity. 
 
 Boy,'^ she said, do you know what you are promis- 
 ing — to assume the whole burden of (he support of a use- 
 less woman for her whole life ! What would your mother 
 or promised wife say to such a proposition 
 
 "Ah ! you do not know my dear mother, nor my Clara, 
 
554 
 
 THE maniac's SfOEY. 
 
 no, nor even me. I tell you the truth when I say that your 
 coming among us would make us happier. Oh, Madam, I 
 myself owe so much to the Lord, and to his instruments, 
 the benevolent of this world, for all that has been done for 
 me, I seize with gratitude the chance to serve in my turn 
 any of His suffering children ! Pray believe me V 
 
 ^^I do ! I do. Doctor Rocke ! I see that life has not 
 deprived you of a generous, youthful enthusiasm,-'^ said the 
 lady, witli the tears welling up mto her glorious black 
 eyes. 
 
 After a little, with a smile, she held out her hand to 
 him, saying : 
 
 Young friend, if you should succeed in freeing me 
 from this prison, and establish my sanity before a court of 
 justice, I and my daughter will come into immediate pos- 
 session of one of the largest estates in your native Virj.-inia ! 
 Sit down. Doctor Eocke, while I tell you my true story, and 
 much, very much more of it than I have ever confided to any 
 human being. 
 
 Lady, I am very impatient to hear your histor}^, but I 
 am your physician, and must first consider yoor licaltb. 
 You have been sufficiently excited for one day ; it is late : 
 take your tea and retire early to bed. To-morrow morning, 
 after I have visited the wards and you have taken your 
 breakfast, I will come, and you shall tell me the story of 
 your life/' 
 
 " I will do whatever you think best,'' said the lady. 
 Traverse lifted her hand to his lips, bowed, and retreated 
 from the cell. 
 
 That same night Traverse wrote to his friend Herbert 
 Greyson in Mexico, and to his mother and Clara, describing 
 his interesting patient, though as yet he could tell but little 
 of her, not even in fact her real name, but promising fuller 
 particulars next time, and declaring his intention of bringing 
 her home for the present to their house. 
 
END OF THE LADy's STORY. 
 
 555 
 
 CHAPTER LVIII. 
 
 END OF THE LADY's STOBY, 
 
 ** Oi the present naught is bright, 
 But in the coming years I see 
 A brilliant and a cheerful light, 
 
 Which burns before thee constantly." 
 
 — W. D. Gallagher. 
 
 At the appointed hour the next morning, Traverse 
 Rocke repaired to the cell of his mysterious patient. 
 
 He was pleased to find her np and dressed with more 
 than Tisual care and taste^ and looking, upon the whole, 
 much better in health and spirits than upon the preceding 
 day. 
 
 Ah, my young hero, is it you ? You see that I am 
 ready for you,^' she said, liolding out her hand. 
 
 ^' Yon are looking yery well this morning V' said Trav- 
 erse, smiling. 
 
 '"^Yes, hope is a fine tonic. Doctor Rocke. 
 She was seated by tlie same window at which Traverse 
 had first seen her, and she now beckoned the young doctor 
 to come and take a seat near her. 
 
 My story is almost as melo-dramatic as a modern 
 romance, Doctor Rocke, she said. 
 Traverse bowed gravely and Avaited. 
 My father was a French patriot, who suffered death 
 in the cause of liberty, when I, his only child, was but 
 fourteen years of age. My mother, broken-hearted by his 
 loss, followed him within a few months. I was left an 
 orphan and penniless, for our estate was confiscated." 
 
 Ah, your sorrows came early and heavily indeed,'' said 
 Traverse. 
 
55G 
 
 END OF THE LADY's STORY. 
 
 Yes ; well ! a former servant of my father, held an 
 humble situation of porter, on the ground floor of a house, 
 the several floors of which were let out to different lodgers. 
 This poor mfin and his wife gave me a temporary home with 
 themselves. Among the lodgers of the house there was a 
 young Virginian gentleman of fortune, traveling for pleas- 
 ure and improvement, whose name was Mr. Eugene Le 
 Noir.'^ 
 
 *^ Le Noir ! cried Traverse with a violent start. 
 Yes ! what is the matter V 
 
 It is a familiar Virginian name. Madam, that is all ; 
 pray go on.^^ 
 
 Mr. Le ISToir was as good and kind as he was wise and 
 cultivated. He used to stop to gossip with old Cliquot every 
 time he stopped at the porter^s room to take or to leave his 
 key. There lie heard of the poor little orphan of the guillo- 
 tine, who had no friend in the world but her fathers old 
 servant. He pitied me, and after many consultations with 
 Father and Mother Cliquot, he assumed the position of 
 guardian to me, and placed me at one of the best schools in 
 Paris. He lingered in the city and came to sec me very 
 often ; but always saw me in the presence of Madam, the 
 directress. I clung to him with the affection for a father or 
 an elder brother, and I knew he loved me with the tender, 
 protecting affection that he would have given a younger 
 sister, had he possessed one. Ah ! Doctor Eocke, tell me 
 besides yourself, are there many other men in your State 
 like Jii7n f 
 
 I knew but one such ; but go on, dear madam." 
 
 When I had been to school some months, he came to 
 me one day scarcely able to conceal his woe ! He told me 
 that his father was ill and that he should have to sail in 
 the first packet from Havre, and that in fact he had then 
 come to take leave of me. I was wild with grief, not 
 only upon his account but upon my own, at tlie prospect 
 of losing him, my only friend ! I was but a child, and a 
 
END OF THE LADy's STORY. 
 
 557 
 
 French child to boot. I knew nothing of the world ; I re- 
 garded this noble gentleman, wlio was so much my superior 
 in years as in everything else, as a father, guardian or elder 
 brother, so in an agony of grief, I threw myself into his arms, 
 sobbing and weeping bitterly, and imploring him not to 
 break my heart by leaving me ! It was in vain madame 
 the Directress exclaimed and expostulated at these impro- 
 prieties. I am sure I did not hear a word until he spoke. 
 Putting me out of his arms he said : 
 
 " ^ I must go, my child, duty calls me.' 
 
 ^' ^ Then take me with you— take your poor little one 
 with you, and do not pull her out of your warm, good 
 heart, or she will wither and die like a poor flower torn up 
 by the roots V I cried, between my sobs and tears. 
 He drew me back to his bosom and whispered : 
 
 ^' ' There is but one way in which I can take you with 
 me, my child. Will you be my wife, little Capitolie 
 
 Capitola !" cried Traverse, with another great start. 
 
 "Yes ; why ? what is the matter now V 
 Why, it is such an odd name, that is all. Pray pro- 
 ceed. Madam.'' 
 
 ^' We were married the same day, and sailed the third 
 morning thereafter from Havre for the United States, 
 where we arrived, alas ! only to find the noble gentleman, 
 my Eugene's father, laid in his grave. After Mr. Le Noir's 
 natural grief was over, we settled down peaceably to our 
 
 country life at the Hidden House " 
 
 The Hidden Heuse I" again exclaimed Traverse 
 Rocke. 
 
 " Yes ; that is another odd name, isn't it ? Well I was 
 very happy. At first, when I understood my real position, 
 I had been afraid that my husband had married me only 
 from compassion ; but he soon proved to me that his love 
 was as high, as pure, and as noble as himself. I was very 
 happy ! But one day, in the midst of my exultant joy, a 
 thunderbolt fell and shattered my peace to destruction for- 
 
558 
 
 END OF THE LADt's STOET. 
 
 ever ! Oh, Dr. Eocke, my hiist:)ancl was miirdcrcd by some 
 unknown hand in his own woods, in open day. I cannot 
 talk of this !" cried the widow, breaking down, over- 
 whelmed with the rush of terrible recollections. 
 
 Traverse poured ont a glass of water, and handed it to 
 her. 
 
 She drank it, made an effort at self-control, and 
 resumed : 
 
 Thus, scarcely sixteen years of age, I was a widow, 
 helpless, penniless, and entirely dependent upon my 
 brother-in-law. Colonel Gabriel Le JToir ; for by the terms 
 of their father^s will, if Eugene died without issue, the 
 whole property descended to his younger brother, Gabriel. 
 To speak the truth, Colonel Le Noir was exceedingly kind 
 to me after my awfnl bereavement, until a circumstance 
 was discovered that changed all our relations. It was two 
 months after my husband's death, that I discovered with 
 mingled emotions of joy and sorrow, that Heaven had cer- 
 tainly destined me to become a mother. I kept my 
 cherished secret to myself as long as it was possible, but it 
 could not indeed be long concealed from the household. I 
 believe that my brother-in-law was the first to suspect it. 
 He called me into his study one day and I obeyed like a 
 child. And there he rudely questioned me upon the sub- 
 ject of my sacred mother-mystery. He learned the truth, 
 more from my silence than from my replies, for I could 
 not answer him.^^ 
 
 The brute ! the miserable hound ejaculated Trav- 
 erse. 
 
 *'0h. Dr. Rocke, I could not tell you the avalanche of 
 abuse, insult, and invective that he hurled upon my 
 defenceless head. He accused me of more crimes than I 
 had ever heard talk of. He told me that my condition was 
 an impossible one unless I had been false to the memory of 
 his brother ; that I had dishonored his name, disgraced his 
 house, and brought myself to shame ; that I should leave 
 
END OF THE LADl's STORY. 
 
 559 
 
 the roof;, leave the neighborhood, and die as I deserved to 
 die, in a ditch I I made no rejDly. I was crushed into si- 
 lence under the weight of his reproaches/'' 
 
 ^'The caitiff ! the poltroon ! Ah, poor stranger, why 
 did you not leave the house at once and throw yourself upon 
 the protection of the minister of your parish, or some other 
 kind neighbor T' 
 
 " Alas, I was a child, a widow, and a foreigner, all in 
 one. I did not know your land, or your laws, or your peo- 
 ple. I was not hopeful or coufident, I had suffered so 
 cruelly, and I was overwhelmed by his abnse."' 
 
 But did you not knoAv, dear lady, that all his rage was 
 aroused only by the fact that the birth of your child would 
 disinherit him T' 
 
 " Ah, no. I was not aware, at that time, that Gabriel 
 Le jSToir was a villain. I thought his anger hones r, though 
 unjast ; and I was as ignorant as a child — I had no mother 
 nor matronly friend to instruct me. I know that I had 
 broken no command of God or man — that I had been a 
 faithful wife, but when Gabriel Le Xoir accused me vith 
 such bitter earnestness, I feared that some strange depart- 
 ure from the usual course of nature had occurred for my 
 destruction. And I was overwhelmed by mortification, 
 terror, and despair. 
 
 ^^Ah, the villain I" exclaimed Traverse, between his 
 teetli. 
 
 ^^He told me at last, that, to save the memory of his 
 dead brother he would hide my dishonor ; and he ordered 
 me to seclude myself from the sight of all persons. I 
 obeyed him like a slave, grateful even for the shelter of his 
 roof.'^ 
 
 A roof that was your own as he very well knew. And 
 he knew also, the caitiff, that if the circumstance became 
 known, the whole State vrould have protected you in your 
 rights, and ejected him like a cur.'^ 
 
B60 
 
 END OF THE LADY's STORt. 
 
 Issij, even in that case no harm should hav6 reached 
 him on my account. He was my husband^s brother." 
 "And worst enemy. But proceed, dear lady." 
 
 Well, I secluded myself as he commanded. For four 
 months I never left the attic to which he had ordered me 
 to retreat. At the end of that time I became the mother 
 of twins — a boy and a girl. The boy only opened his eyes 
 on this world to close them again directly. The girl was 
 living and healthy. The old nurse who attended me had 
 an honest and compassionate face ; I persuaded her to 
 secrete and save the living child, and to present the dead 
 babe to Colonel Le Noir as the only one ; for the suspicions 
 that had never been awakened for myself were alarmed for 
 my child. I instinctively felt that he would have destroyed 
 it." 
 
 " The mother's instinct is like inspiration," said 
 Traverse. 
 
 " It may be so ! well, the old woman pitied me and did 
 as I desired. She took the dead child to Colonel Le l^oir, 
 who carried it off, and afterwards buried it as the sole heir 
 of his elder brother. The old woman carried off my living 
 child and my wedding ring, concealed under her amjDle 
 shawl. Anxiety for the fate of my child caused me to do 
 what nothing else on earth would have tempted me to do — 
 to creep about the halls and passages on tiptoe and under 
 cover of the night, and listen at keyholes," said the lady, 
 blushing deeply at the recollection. 
 
 " You — you were perfectly right, Mrs. Le Noir ! In a 
 den of robbers, where your life and honor were always at 
 stake, you could have done no otherwise V exclaimed Trav- 
 erse, warmly. 
 
 ''I learned by this means that my poor old nurse had 
 paid with her liberty for her kindness to me. She had been 
 abducted and forced from her native country together with 
 a child found in her possession, which they evidently sus- 
 pected and I knew to be mine. Oh heaven I the agony 
 
EKD OF THE LADY's STORY. 
 
 561 
 
 then of thinking of what might be her unfortunate fate, — 
 worse than death, perhaps ! I felt that I had only succeeded 
 in saving her life ; — doubtful good !" 
 
 Here Mrs. Le Noir paused in thought for a few moments 
 and then resumed. 
 
 It is the memory of a long, dreary and hopeless im- 
 prisonment, my recollection of my residence in that house ! 
 In the same manner in which I gained all my information, 
 I learned that it was reported in the neighborhood that I 
 had gone mad with grief for the loss of my husband and 
 that I was an inmate of a mad-house in the north ! It was 
 altogether false ! I never left the Hidden House in all those 
 years until about two years ago. My life there was dreary 
 beyond all conception. I was forbidden to go out or to 
 appear at a window ! I had the whole attic, containing 
 some eight or ten rooms, to rove over, but I was forbidden 
 to descend. An iil-Iooking woman, called Dorcas Knight, 
 between whom and the elder Le Noir there seemed to have 
 been some sinf nl bond, was engaged ostensibly as my attend- 
 ant ; but really as my jailer. Nevertheless, when the sense 
 of confinement grew intolerable I sometimes eluded her 
 vigilance and wandered about the house at night." 
 
 Thence no doubt/' said Traverse, '^giving rise to the 
 report that the house was haunted V 
 
 Mrs. Le Noir smiled, saying : 
 I believe the Le Noirs secretly encouraged that re- 
 port ! I'll tell you why. They gave me a chamber lamp 
 enclosed in an intense blue shade, that cast a strange un- 
 earthly light around. Their ostensible reason was to ensure 
 my safety from fire. Their real reason was that this light 
 might be seen from without in what was reputed to be an 
 uninhabited portion of the house, and give color to its bad 
 reputation among the ignorant of being haunted V' 
 
 ''So much for the origin of one authenticated ghost 
 story,'' said Traverse. 
 
 " Yes ! and there was still more circumstantial evidence 
 
562 
 
 END OF THE LADY's STORY. 
 
 to saj3port this ghostly reputation of the house. As the 
 years passed I had, even in my confined state, gathered 
 knowledge in one way and another — picking up stray 
 hooks and hearing stray conversation ; and so, in the end 
 I learned hov/ gross a deception and how great a wrong had 
 been practised upon me. I was not wise or cunning. I 
 betrayed constantly to my attendant my knowledge of these 
 things. In consequence of which my confinement became 
 still more restricted.''^ 
 
 " Yes, they were afraid of you, and fear is always the 
 mother of cruelty,^" said Traverse. 
 
 " Well, from the time that I became enlightened as to 
 my real position, all my faculties were upon the alert to 
 find means of escaping and making my condition known to 
 the authorities. One night they had a guest. Colonel 
 Eglen, of the army. Old Dorcas had her hands full, and 
 forgot her prisoner. My door was left unlocked. So, long 
 after Colonel Eglcn had retired to rest, and when all the 
 household were buried in repose, I left my attic and crept 
 down to the chamber of the guest, with no other purpose 
 than to make known my wrongs and appeal to his compas- 
 sioQ. I entered his chamber, approached his bed to speak 
 to him, when this hero of a hundred fields started up in a 
 panic, and at the sight of the pale woman who drew his 
 curtains in the dead of night, he shrieked, violently rang 
 his bell, and fainted prone away 
 
 'Tla ! ha ! ha ! he could brave an army, or march into 
 a cannon^s mouth, easier than meet a supposed denizen of 
 another world ! Well, Doctor Johnson believed in ghosts, 
 laughed Traverse. 
 
 " It remained for me to retreat as fast as possible to my 
 room, to avoid the Le ISToirs, who were hurrying with head- 
 long speed to the guest-chamber. They knew, of course, 
 that I was the ghost, although they affected to treat their 
 visitor^s story as a dream. After that my confinement was 
 so strict that for years I had no opportunity of leaving my 
 
END OF THE LADY's STOET. 
 
 663 
 
 f.'ttic. At last the strict esj)ionage Tras relaxed. Sometiiiies 
 my door would be left unlocked. Upon one such occasion, 
 in creeping about in the dark. I learned, by over-hearing a 
 conversation between Le Xoir and his housekeeper, that my 
 lono" lost dauD'hter. Caiitola. bad been found, and was liv- 
 ing at Hurricane Hall I This was enough to comfort me 
 for years. About three years ago, the surveillance over me 
 was so modified that I was left again to roam ab'out the upper 
 rooms of the house at will, until I learned that they had a 
 new inmate, young Cbira Day, a ward of Le Xoir I Oh, 
 how I longed to warn that child to fly I But I could not I 
 Alas, again I was restricted to my own room, lest I should 
 be seen by her I But again, up:m one occasion, old Dorcas 
 forgot to lock my door at night. I stole forth from my room 
 and learned that a young girl, caught out in the storm, was 
 to stay all night at the Hidden House. Youna" girls wore 
 not plentiful in that neighb trhood, I knew I Besides, some 
 secret instinct told nie that this was my daughrer. I knew 
 that she would sleep in tlie chamber under mine, because 
 that Avas the only habitable guest-room in the whole house. 
 In the dead of night I left my room and went below and 
 entei'ed the chamber of the young girl. I went first to the 
 toilet table to see if among her little girlish ornaments. I 
 could find any cltie to her identity. I found it in a plain, 
 gold ring — the same that I had entrusted to the old nurse. 
 Some strange impulse caused me to slip the ring ujDon mv 
 finger. Then I went to the bed and threw aside the cur- 
 tains to gaze upon the sleeper. My girl I my own girl I 
 "With what strange sensations I first looked upon her face ! 
 Her eyes were ojxn and fixed upon mine in a j^anic of terror. 
 I stooped to press my lips to hers and she closed her eyes in 
 mortal fear. I carried nothing but terror vrith me I I with- 
 drew from the room and went back, sobbing, to my chamber. 
 My poor girl, next morning, unconsciously, betrayed her 
 mother. It had nearly cost me my life. 
 
 "When the Le Xoirs came home, the first night of their 
 
664 
 
 END OF THE LADy's STORY. 
 
 arrival tliej entered my room^ seized me in my bed, and 
 dragged me shrieking from it 1'^ 
 
 Good heaven ! what punishment is sufficient for such 
 wretches V exclaimed Traverse, starting up and pacing the 
 narrow limits of the cell. 
 
 " Listen ! They soon stopped both my shrieks and my 
 breath at once ! I lost consciousness for a time, and when 
 I awoke I found myself in a close carriage, rattling over a 
 mountain road, through the night. Late the next morn- 
 ing we reached an uninhabited country-house, where I was 
 again imprisoned, in charge of an old dumb woman whom 
 Le Noir called Mrs. Eaven. This 1 afterv/ards understood 
 to be Willow Heights, the property of the orphan heiress, 
 Clara Day. A.nd here, also, for the term of my stay, the 
 presence of the unknown inmate got the house the reputa- 
 tion of being haunted. The old dumb woman was a shade 
 kinder to me than Dorcas Knight had been ; but I did not 
 stay in her charge very long. One night the Le Noirs came 
 in hot haste. The young heiress had been delivered from 
 their charge by a decree of the Orphans^ Court, and they 
 had to give up her house. I was drugged and hurried 
 away. Some narcotic sedative must have been insinuated 
 into my food, for I was in a state of semi-insensibility and 
 mild delirium during the whole course of a long journey 
 by land and sea, which passed to me like a dream, and at 
 the end of which I found myself here. No doubt, from 
 the excessive use of narcotics, there was something wild 
 and stupid in my manner and appearance that justified the 
 charge of madness. And when I found that I was a pris- 
 oner, in a lunatic asylum, far, far away from the neighbor- 
 hood where, at least, I had once been known, I gave way 
 to the wilder grief that further confirmed the story of my 
 madness. I have been here two years, occasionally giving 
 way to outbursts of wild despair, that the doctor calls 
 frenzy. I was sinking into an apathy when one day I 
 
END OF THE LADy's STORY. 
 
 565 
 
 opened the little Bible that lay ui3on tlie table of ni}' ceil. 
 I fixed upon the last chapters in the gospel of John. That 
 namuire of meek patience and divine love I It did for me 
 what no power nnder that of God conld have done. It 
 saved me ! it saved me from madness ! it saved me from 
 despair ! There is a time for th^ second birth of every 
 soul ; that time had come for me. From that hour, this 
 book has been my constant companion and comfort. I 
 have learned from its pages how little it matters how or 
 where this fleeting, mortal life is passed, so that it answers 
 its purpose of preparing the soul for another. I have 
 learned patience with sinners, forgiveness of enemies, and 
 confidence in God. In a, word, I trust I have learned the 
 way of salvation, and in that have learned everything. 
 Your comiug, and your words, young friend, have stirred 
 within my heart the desire to be free, to mingle again on 
 equal terms with my fellow-beings, and, above all, to find, 
 and to embrace my child. But not wildly anxious am I 
 even for these earthly blessings. These, as well as all 
 things else, I desire to leave to the Lord, praying that His 
 will may be mine ! Young friend, my story is told." 
 
 " Madam, ''^ said Traverse, after a thoughtful pause, 
 our fates have been more nearly connected than you 
 could have imagined. Those Le Xoirs have been 7ny 
 enemies as they are yours. That young orphan heiress, 
 who appealed from their cruelty to the Orj^hans^ Court, 
 was my own betrothed. Willow Heights was her patrimony, 
 and is now her quiet home, where she lives with my mother, 
 and where in their name I invite you to come. And take 
 this comfort also ; your enemy no longer lives ; months ago 
 I left him ill with a mortal wound. This morning the 
 papers announce his death. There remains, therefore, 
 but little for me to do, but to take legal measures to 
 free you from this place, and restore you to your home. 
 Within an honr I shall set out for New Orleans, for the 
 
666 
 
 PROSPECTS BRIGHTEN. 
 
 purpose of taking the initiatory steps. Until my return 
 thence, dear lady/' said Traverse, respectfully taking her 
 hand — Farewell, and be of good cheer P 
 
 CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 PROSPECTS BRIGHTER. 
 
 ** Thus far our fortune keeps an onward course, 
 And we are graced with wreaths of victory." 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 Leaving Mrs. Le Noir, Traverse went down to the 
 stable, saddled the horse that had been allotted to his use, 
 and set off for a long day's journey to New Orleans, where 
 late at uight he arrived, and put up at the St. Charles. 
 
 He slept deeply from fatigue until late the next morn- 
 ing, when he was awakened by the sound of drums, 
 trumpets and fifes, and by general rejoicing. 
 
 He arose and looked from his windows to ascertain the 
 cause, and sav/ tlie square full of people in a state of the 
 highest excitement, watching for a military procession 
 coming up the street. 
 
 It was the United States troops under their gallant 
 commanders, who had landed from the steamboats that 
 morning and were now marching from the quay up to their 
 quarters at the St. Charles. 
 
 As they advanced. Traverse, eagerly u])on the lookout, 
 recognized his own regiment, and presently saw Major 
 Greyson himself. 
 
 Traverse withdrew from the window, hurriedly com- 
 pleted his toilet, and hastened down stairs, where he soon 
 
PKOSPECTS BRIGHTEN. 
 
 567 
 
 found liimself face to face with Herbert, who warmly grasp- 
 ing his hand^ exclaimed : 
 
 Yoio here, old friend ? Why, I thought you were 
 down in East Feliciana, with your interesting patient 
 
 Is is for the interest of that ' interesting patient ' that 
 I am here, Herbert ! Did I tell you she was one of the 
 victims of that demon, Le Noir ?" 
 
 No ; but I know it from another source ! I know as 
 much, or more of her, perhaj)s, than you do !" 
 
 Ah exclaimed Traverse, in surprise. 
 " Yes ! I know, for instance, that she is Capitola's 
 mother, the long lost widow of Eugene Le ^^oir, the mis- 
 tress of the Hidden House, and the ghost who drew folks* 
 curtains there at night.-'' 
 
 Then you do know something about her, but lioio did 
 you arrive at the knowledge T' 
 
 •''By the ''hist dying speech and confession ' of Gabriel 
 Le jSToir, confided to me, to be used in restitution after his 
 decease ! But, come ! there is the second bell ! Our mess 
 are going in to breakfast ; join us and afterwards you and 
 I will retire and compare notes,^^ said Herbert, taking the 
 arm of his friend, as they followed the moving crowd into 
 the breakfast parlor. 
 
 After the morning meal was concluded the friends 
 withdrew together, to the chamber occupied by Traverse 
 Rocke, where they sat down for mutual explanations. 
 
 Herbert first related to Traverse all that had occurred 
 from the time that the latter left the city of Mexico, 
 including the arrival of Craven Le Noir at the dying bed 
 of his father, the subsequent death and funeral of Colonel 
 Le Noir, and the late emigration of Craven, who, to avoid 
 the shame of the approaching revelation, joined a party of 
 explorers bound for the recently discovered gold mines of 
 California. 
 
 The civilized world is then rid of two villains at 
 once,''' said the uncompromising Traverse. 
 
568 
 
 PROSPECTS SfeiGaTEiT. 
 
 Herbert took from his pocket the confession of Colonel 
 Le Noir, which he said he was now at liberty to use as he 
 thought proper for the ends of justice. That certain parts 
 of the disclosure intimately concerned Traverse Eocke ; to 
 whom he should, therefore, read the whole. The confes- 
 sion may be briefly summed up as follows : 
 
 The first item was, that he had sought to win the affec- 
 tions of Marah Rocke, the supposed wife of Major Ira War- 
 field ; he had sedulously waylaid and followed her with his 
 suit during the whole summer ; she had constantly repulsed 
 and avoided him ; he, listening to his own evil passions, had 
 bribed her maid to admit him in the dark to Marah^s cabin, 
 upon a certain night when her husband was to be absent ; 
 that the unexpected return of Major Warfield, who had 
 tracked him to the house, had prevented the success of his 
 evil purpose ; but had not saved the reputation of the inno- 
 cent wife, whose infuriated husband would not believe her 
 ignorant of the presence of the villain in her house ; that 
 he, Gabriel Le Noir, in hatred as well as in shame, had for- 
 borne until now to make the explanation, which he hoped 
 might now, late in life as it was, bring the long severed 
 pair together, and establish Marah Rocke and her son in 
 their legal and social rights. 
 
 The second item in the black list of crime was the death 
 of his elder brother, whom he declared he had not intended 
 to kill. He said that, having contracted large debts which 
 he was unable to pay, he had returned secretly from his 
 distant quarters to demand the money from his brother, 
 who had often helped him ; that, meeting his brother in 
 the woods, he made this request. Eugene reproached him 
 for his extravagance and folly, and refused to aid him ; an 
 encounter ensued, in which Eugene fell. He Gabriel Le 
 Noir, fled, pursued by the curse of Cain, and reached his 
 own quarters before even his absence had been suspected. 
 His agency in the death of his brother was not suspected 
 even by his accomplice in other crimes, the outlaw called 
 
PEOSPECTS BRIGHTEN. 
 
 669 
 
 Black Donald, who^, thinking to gain an ascendancy over 
 one whom he called his patron, falsely pretended to have 
 made way with Eugene Le Noir for the sake of his younger 
 brother ! 
 
 The third item of confession was the abduction of the 
 nurse and babe of the young widow of Eugene, the circum- 
 stances of which are already known to the reader. 
 
 Tiie fourth in the dreadful list comprised the deceptions, 
 wrongs and persecutions practiced upon Madam Eugene Lo 
 Noir, and the final false imprisonment of that lady under 
 the charge of insanity, in the private mad-house kept by 
 Doctor Pierre St. Jean, in East Feliciana. 
 
 In conclusion, he spoke of the wrongs done to Clara 
 Da}^, whose pardon, with that of others, he begged. And 
 he prayed that in consideration of his son, as little publicity 
 as was possible might be given to these crimes. 
 
 During the reading of this confession, the eyes of 
 Traverse Kocke were fixed in wonder and half incredulity 
 upon the face of Herbert, and at its conclusion he said : 
 
 ^' What a mass of crime ! But that we may not dare to 
 question the mercy of the Lord, I should ask if these were 
 sins that He would ever pardon ! Herbert, it appalls me to 
 think of it V' 
 
 Then, after deep thought, he added : 
 This, then, was the secret of my dear mother^s long 
 unhappiness ! She was Major Warfield's forsaken wife ! — 
 Herbert ! I feel as though I never, never, could forgive my 
 father V' 
 
 Traverse, if Major Warfield had wilfully and wan- 
 tonly forsaken your mother, I should say that your resent- 
 ment was natural and right ! Who should be an honor- 
 able woman^s champion if not her own son ? But Major 
 Warfield, as well as his wife, was more sinned against than 
 sinning ! Your parents were both victims of a cruel con- 
 spiracy, and he suffered as much in his way, as she did in 
 hers/' said Herbert. 
 
670 
 
 PROSPECTS BRIGHTEN. 
 
 '^I always thought, somehow, that my dear mother was 
 a forsaken wife. She never told me so ; but there was 
 something about her circumstances and manners, her re- 
 tired life, her condition, so much below her deserts, her 
 never speaking of her hnsband^s death — which would have 
 been natural for her to do, had she been a widow — all, 
 somehow, went to give me the im2")ression that my father 
 had abandoned us. Lately I had suspected that Major "War- 
 field had something to do with the sad affair, though I 
 never once suspected him to be my father ! — so much for 
 natural instincts, said Traverse, with a melancholy smile. 
 
 " Traverse,^^ said Herbert, with a design of drawing 
 him off from sad remembrances of his mother's early trials. 
 
 Traverse, this confession, signed and witnessed as it is, 
 will wonderfully simplify your course of action in regard to 
 the deliverance of Madam Le Noir." 
 
 " Yes ; so it will," said Traverse, with animation. 
 
 There will be no need now of applying to law ; especially 
 if you will come down with me to East Feliciana and bring 
 the confession with you.^' 
 
 I will set out with you this very morning, if you wish, 
 as I am on leave. What ! to hasten the release of Capitola's 
 mother ! I would set out at midnight, and ride straight on 
 for a week \" 
 
 ^' Ah ! there is no need of such extravagant feats of 
 travel. It is now ten o'clock ; if we start within an hour 
 we can reach the Calm Eetreat '' by eleven o'clock to- 
 night.'^ 
 
 ^' En avant, then," exclaimed Herbert, rising and ring- 
 ing the bell. 
 
 Traverse ordered horses, and in twenty minutes the 
 friends were on the road to East Feliciana. 
 
 They reached the Calm Ketreat" so late that night, 
 that there was none but the porter awake to admit them. 
 
 Traverse took his friend up to his own dormitory, saying, 
 laughingly : 
 
PEOSPECTS BEIQHTEN. 
 
 571 
 
 ^' It is an iiuappreoiable distance of time since you and 
 I occupied tlie same bed^ Herbert/^ 
 
 ''Yes ; but it is not the fir.st^ by five hunJied times. 
 Do yon remember. Traverse, the low attic where we used to 
 sle.ei^, and how on stormy nights we used to listen to the 
 rain pattering on the roof, within two or three inches of our 
 face;, and how we used to be half afraid to turn over for 
 fear that we should bump our heads against the timbers of 
 the ceiling 
 
 Yes, indeed/'^ said Traverse. 
 
 And thereupon the two friends launched into a discus- 
 sion of old times, when the two widows and their sons lived 
 together — the two women occupying one bed, and the two 
 boys the other. And this discussion they kept up until 
 long after they retired, and until sleep overtook them. 
 
 The next morning Traverse conducted his friend down 
 to the breakfast parlor, to introduce him to Doctor St. 
 Jean, v;ho, as soon as he perceived his young medical 
 assistant, sprang forward exclaiming : 
 
 " Grand Heaven ! Is this then you ? Have you then 
 returned ? What for did you run away with my horse 
 
 I went to ]^ew Orleans in great haste, upon very 
 important business, sir.^^ 
 
 Grand Dieu! I should think so, I ! when you ride oS 
 on my horse witliont saying a word ! If it had been my 
 ambling i")ony I ilioiild have been in despair, I I Your 
 business so hasty and so important was accomplished, I 
 hope r 
 
 '^Yes ; I did my errand Avith less trouble than I had 
 anticipated, owing to the happy circumstance of meeting 
 my friend here, who has come down hither connected with 
 the same business.-''' 
 
 Ah, very happy to see your friend. In the medical 
 profession, I suppose 
 
 Xo, sir ; in the army. Allow me to present him. 
 Major Herbert G-reyson^ of the — th Regiment of Cavalry.-'^ 
 
572 
 
 PROSPECTS BRIGHTEN. 
 
 Oui ! ay ! Grand ciel ! this is the brave, the dis- 
 tinguished, the illustrious oflBcer, so honorably mentioned 
 in the desi^atches of the inyincible Taylor and the mighty 
 Scott ?' said the little Frenchman, bowing his night-cap- 
 ped head down to his slippered toes. 
 
 Herbert smiled as he returned the bow. And then the 
 little French doctor, turning to Traverse, said : 
 
 But your business, so important and so hasty, which 
 has brought this officer so illustrious down here ; — what is 
 it my friend 
 
 " We will have the honor of explaining to Monsieur le 
 Docteur, over our coffee, if he will oblige us by ordering the 
 servant to retire, said Traverse, who sometimes adopted 
 in speaking to the old Frenchman his own formal style of 
 politeness. 
 
 " Oui, oui, certainment ! Allez done, John ! Go, 
 then, John \" 
 
 As soon as the man had gone, Traverse said : 
 I propose to discuss this business over our coffee, be- 
 cause it will save time without interfering with our morn- 
 ing meal, and I know that immediately afterwards you will 
 go your usual round of visits to your patients/^ 
 
 " Eh bien 1 proceed, my son ! proceed 1" 
 
 Traverse immediately commenced and related all that 
 was necessary concerning the fraud practiced upon the 
 institution by introducing into it an unfortunate woman, 
 represented to be mad, but really only sorrowful, nervous 
 and excitable. And to prove the truth of his words. Trav- 
 erse desired Herbert to read from the confession the portion 
 relating to this fraud, and to show the doctor the signature 
 of the principal and the witness. 
 
 To have seen the old French doctor then ! I rejoice in 
 a Frenchman, for the frank abandon with which he gives 
 himself up to his emotions ! Our doctor, after staring at 
 the confession, took hold of the top of his blue tasselled 
 night-cap, pulled it off his head and threw it violently upon 
 
PROSPECTS BKIGHTEK. 
 
 573 
 
 the floor ! Then remembering that he was exposing a 
 cranium^ as bald as a peeled potato^ he suddenly caught it 
 up again, clapped it upon his crown and exclaimed : 
 
 " Sacre ! Diable V and other ejaculations dreadful to 
 translate, and others again which it would be profane to set 
 down in French or English. 
 
 Gabriel Le Noir was no longer an officer illustrious, a 
 gentleman noble and distinguished, compassionate and 
 tender; he was a robber infamous! a villain atrocious ! a 
 caitiff, ruthless, and without remorse ! 
 
 After breakfast the doctor consented that his young 
 hero, his little knight-errant, his dear son, should go to the 
 distressed lady and open the good news to her ; while the 
 great Major Greyson, the warrior invincible, should go 
 around with himself to inspect the institution. 
 
 Traverse immediately repaired to the chamber of Mrs. 
 Le Noir, whom he found sitting at the window, engaged in 
 some little trifle of needlework, the same pale, patient 
 woman that she had first appeared to him. 
 
 Ah, you have come ! I read good news upon your 
 smiling face, my friend ! Tell it ! I have borne the worst 
 of sorrows ! shall I not have strength to bear joy V 
 
 Traverse told her all, and then ended by saying : 
 ]^ow, dear Madam, it is necessary that we leave this 
 place within two hours, as Major Greyson^s regiment leaves 
 New Orleans for Washington to-morrow, and it is advisable 
 that you go under our protection. We can get you a female 
 attendant from the St. Charles. 
 
 Oh, I can be ready in ten minutes ! I have no fine 
 lady's wardrobe to pack up replied Mrs. Le Noir, with a 
 smile. 
 
 Traverse bowed and went out to procure a carriage from 
 the next village. And in half an hour afterwards the whole 
 party took leave of Doctor Pierre St. Jean and his " insti- 
 tution incomparable,^^ and set forth on their journey to 
 New Orleans, whence in two diys afterwards they sailed for 
 
674 
 
 CAPITOLA A CAPITALIST. 
 
 tlie Norili. And now, dear reader, let you and mo take tlie 
 fast boat, and get home before them to see onr little Cap, 
 and find out what adventures she is now engaged in, and 
 how she is getting on. 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 CAPITOLA A CAPITALIST. 
 
 "Plumed victory 
 Is truly painted with a cheerful look, 
 Equally distant from proud insolence 
 
 And sad detection." — Massinger. 
 
 How GLAD I am to get back to my little Cap ; for I 
 know very well, reader, just as well as if you had told nie, 
 that you have been grumbliug for two weeks for the want 
 of Cap. But I could not help it, for, to tell the truth, I 
 was pining after her myself, which was the reason that I 
 could not do half justice to the scenes of the Mexican 
 War. 
 
 Well, now let us see what Cap has been doing — what 
 oppressors she has punished — what victims she has delivered 
 — in a word, what new heroic adventures she has 
 achieved. 
 
 Well, the trial of Donald Bayne, alias Black Donald, 
 was over. Cap, of course, had been compelled to a|)pear 
 against him. During the whole course of the trial the 
 court-room was crowded with a curious multitude, '''from 
 far and near,^'' eager to get sight of the notorious outlaw. 
 
 Black Donald, through the v^^holc ordeal, deported 
 himself with a gallant and joyous dignity, that would have 
 better become a triumph than a trial. 
 
CAPITOLA A CAPITALIST. 
 
 575 
 
 Ho ^as indicted upon several distinct counts,, the most 
 serious of wliicli — tlie murcler of the solitary vvidow and lier 
 daughter in the forest cabin, and the assassination of 
 En^rene Le Xoir in the woods near the Hidden House — 
 were sustained only by circumstantial evidence. But the 
 aggregate weight of all these, together witli liis very bad 
 reputation, was sufficient to convict him, and Black Donald 
 was sentenced to death. 
 
 This dreadful doom, most solemnly j^ronounced by the 
 judge, was received by the prisoner with a loud laugh, and 
 the words : 
 
 You^-e out o'' your reckoning now, cap^n ! I never 
 was a saint, the Lord knows, but my hands are free from 
 blood-guiltiness ! There^s an honest little girl that believes 
 me — don^t you he said, turning laughingly to our little 
 heroine. 
 
 ^' Yes, I do said Cap, bursting into tears ; and I am 
 as sorry for you as ever I can be, Donald Bayne.^'' 
 
 Bother ! it is sure to come to this first or last, and I 
 knew it ! ISTow, to prove you do not think this rugged 
 hand of mine stained with blood, give it a friendly shake I^' 
 said the condemned man. And before Old Hurricane 
 could prevent her, Capitola had jumped over two or three 
 intervening seats and climbed up to the side of the dock, 
 and reached up her hand to the prisoner saying : 
 
 ^^God help you, Donald Bayne, in your great trouble, 
 and I will do all I can to help yon in this world. I will go 
 to the Governor myself, and tell him I know you never did 
 any murder.-" 
 
 Remove the prisoner, said the judge, peremptorily. 
 The constables approached and led away Black Donald. 
 Old Hurricane rushed upon Cap, seized her, and shaking 
 her fiercely, exclaimed, under his breath : 
 
 You — you — you — you New York hurraw boy ! you 
 foundling ! you vagabond ! you vagrant ! yon brat ! you 
 
576 
 
 CAPITOLA A CAPITALIST. 
 
 beggar ! will you never be a lady ! to go and shake bands 
 with that ruffian I" 
 
 Sure, uncle, tha fs nothing now ; I have shaken hands 
 with i/ou often enough !" 
 
 " Demmy, you — yon — you New York trash, what do you 
 mean by that f" 
 
 ^' Of course I mean, uncle, that you are as rough a ruf- 
 fian as ever Donald Bayne was 
 Demmy, Fll murder you V 
 
 " Don^t uncle ; they have an uncivilized way here of 
 hanging murderers," said Cap, shaking herself free of Old 
 Hurricane^s grasp, and hastening out of the court-room to 
 mount her horse and ride home. 
 
 One night after ten, Capitola and her uncle occupied 
 their usual seats by the little bright wood fire, that the 
 cliilly evening and the keen mountain air made agreeable, 
 even in May. 
 
 Old Hurricane was smoking his pipe and reading his 
 paper. 
 
 Cap was sitting with her slender fingers around her 
 throat, which she, with a shudder, occasionally com- 
 pressed. 
 
 Well, that demon Black Donald will be hanged the 
 26th of July," said old Hurricane, exultingly, and we 
 shall get rid of one villain. Cap." 
 
 / pity Black Donald, and I can^t bear to think of his 
 being hanged ! It quite breaks my heart to think that 
 I was compelled to bring him to such fate !" 
 
 Oh ! that reminds me ! The reward offered for tlie 
 apprehension of Black Donald, to which you were entitled. 
 Cap, was paid over to me for you. I placed it to your 
 account in the Agricultural Bank." 
 
 I don't want it ! I won't touch it ! The price of 
 blood. It would burn my fingers !" said Cap. 
 
 '*0h, A^ery well ! a thousand dollars won't go a beg- 
 ging," said Old Hurricane, 
 
CAPITOLA A CAPITALIST."^ 
 
 677 
 
 Uncle, it breaks my heart to think of Black Donald's 
 execution I It jast does ! It miist be dreadful, this hang- 
 ing I I have put my fingers around my throat and squeezed 
 it, to knov,' how it feels, and it is awful I Evun a little 
 squeeze makes my head feel as if it would burst, and I have 
 to let go I Oh, it is horrible to think of I''^' 
 
 ''•'AVell, Cap, it wasn't intended to be as pleasant as 
 tickling, you know. I wish it was twen:y times worse I It 
 would serve him right, the villain I I wish it was lawful 
 to break him on the wheel — I do I"' 
 
 Uncle, that is very wicked in you I I declare I won't 
 have it I I'll write a petirion to the Governor to commute 
 his sentence, and carry it all around the country myself I'"* 
 
 " You wouldn't get a soul to sign it to save your life, 
 much less his/* 
 
 '"'Til go to the Governor myself, and beg him to pardon 
 Donald Bayne 
 
 ^'Ha I ha I ha I the Governor would not do it to save 
 all our lives ; and if he icere to do such an outrageous thing, 
 he might whistle for his re-election I'"' 
 
 I declare, Donald Bayne shall not be hung — and so 
 there I'*' said Cap, pusjionately. 
 
 Whe-ew I You'll deliver him by the strength of your 
 arm, my little Doniva Quixota.'"'' 
 
 " ril save him :n one way or another, now mind I tell 
 you I He sinned more against me than against anybody else, 
 and so I have the best right of anybody in the world tu for- 
 give him, and I do forgive him ! And he shan't be hung ! 
 I say it V' 
 
 Toil say it I ha I ha ! ha ! Who are you, to turn aside 
 the law 
 
 I, Capitola Black, say that Donald Bayne, not having 
 deserved to be hung, shall not be hung I And in one way 
 oi' another Fll keep my wurd 
 
 And Cap did her best to keep it. The next morning 
 she mounted Gyp and rode up to Tip Top, where she 
 
578 
 
 GAPITOLA A CAPITALIST. 
 
 employed the village lawyer to draw up a petition to tlie 
 Governor for the commutation of Donald Bayne^s sentence. 
 And then she rode all over the country to try to get signa- 
 tures to the document. But all in vain ! People of every 
 age and condition too thoroughly feared and hated tlie 
 famous outlaw, and too earnestly wished to be entirely and 
 forever rid of him, to sign any petition for a commutLition 
 of his sentence. If a petition for his instant execution had 
 been carried around, it would have stood a much better 
 chance of success ! 
 
 Cap spent many days in her fruitless enterprise, but at 
 last gave it up— but by no means in despair, for — 
 
 1^11 save his life, yet ! by one means or another ! I 
 can't change clothes with him as I did with Clara, he's too 
 big ! but one way or other Til save him,'-' said Cap, to her- 
 self. She said it to no one else, for the more difficult the 
 enterprise, the more determined she was to succeed, and 
 the more secretive she grew as to her measures. 
 
 In the meantime the outlaw, double-ironed, was con- 
 fined in the condemned cell, the strongest portion of the 
 county jail. All persons were strictly prohibited from 
 visiting him, except certain of the clergy. 
 
 They did all they could to bring the outlaw to a sense 
 of his condition, to prepare liim to meet his fate and to 
 induce him to make a confession and give up the retreat of 
 his band. 
 
 And Donald listened to them with respect, acknowl- 
 edged himself a great sinner, and knelt with them when 
 they knelt to pray for him. 
 
 But he denied that he was guilty of the murders for 
 which he had been doomed to die, and he utterly refused 
 to give up his old companions, replying to the ministers in 
 something like these words : 
 
 Poor wretches ! they are no more fit to die than / am, 
 and a condemned cell, with the thought of the scaffold 
 before him, are not exactly the most favorable circum- 
 
CAPITOL A A CAPITALIST. 
 
 579 
 
 stauces nnder which a man might experience sincere 
 repentance, my masters I'' 
 
 And so. Trhile the convict listened with docility to all 
 that the ministers had to say_, he steadily p-}:;'^::;; in assert- 
 ing his own iunocence of the crimes for which he was con- 
 demned^ and in his refusal to deliver up his companions. 
 
 Meantime, Capitola, at Hurricane Hall^ tv .5 : /:ig all 
 she could to discover or invent means to save the life of 
 Black Donald. But still she said no more about it, even 
 to Old Hurricane. 
 
 One evening, while Cap was sitting by the fire with her 
 thoughts busy with this subject, her uncle came in, say- 
 ing : 
 
 Gap I I have got some curiosities to show you 
 
 '•'What are they ?^ said Cap, languidly. 
 A set of burglar-'s tools, supposed to belong to some 
 member of Black Donald^s band I One of my negroes 
 fouDd them in the woods in the neighborhood of the 
 Devil's Punch Bowl ! I wrote to the sheriff concerning 
 them, and he requested me to take care of them until 
 he should have occasion to call for them. Look I did 
 you ever see such things said Old Hurricane, sctti:ig 
 down a canvas bag upon the table, and turning out from 
 it all sorts of strange looking instruments— tiny saws, 
 files, punches, screws, picks, ere, etc., etc. 
 
 Cap looked at them with the most curious interest, 
 while Old Hurricane explained their supposed uses. 
 
 •'•It must have been an instrument 0: " '5 s:rt. Cap, 
 that that blamed demon, Donald, gave to the im- 
 prisoned men to file their fetters ofi with I" he said, show- 
 ing a thin file of tempered steel. 
 
 That !" said Cap, •' hand it here I let me see it I"' 
 and she examined it with the deepest interest. 
 
 " I wonder what they force locks with she inquired. 
 
 " Why, this, and this, and this I'' said Old Hurricane, 
 producing a burglar-'s pick, saw and chisel. 
 
580 
 
 CAPITOLA A CAPITALIST. 
 
 Cap took tliem and scrutinized them so attentively that 
 Old Hurricane burst out into a loud laugh, exclaiming — 
 
 '^You'll dream of house-breakers to-night, Cap!" and 
 taking the tools he put them all back in the little canvas 
 bag, and put the bag up on a high shelf of the parlor closet. 
 
 The next morning, while Cap was arranging flowers on 
 the parlor mantlepiece, Old Hurricane burst in upon her 
 with his hands full of letters and newspapers, and his heart 
 full of exaltation — throwing up his hat and cutting an 
 alarming caper for a man of his age, he exclaimed : 
 
 ^' Hurrah, Cap ! Hurrah ! Peace is at last proclaimed 
 and our victorious troops are on their way home ! It^s all 
 in the newspapers ! and here are letters from Herbert, 
 dated from New Orleans ! Here are letters for you, and 
 hero are some for me ! I have not opened them yet ! 
 Hurrah, Cap ! Hurrah !" 
 
 Hurrah, uncle ! Hurrah !" cried Cap, tossing up her 
 flowers and rushing into his arms ! 
 
 Don't squeeze mo into an apoplexy, you little bear,'' 
 said Old Hurricane, turning purple in the face, from the 
 savage hug of Cap's joyful arms. Come along and sit 
 down with me, at this table, and let us see what the letters 
 have brought us." 
 
 They took their seats opposite each other, at a small 
 table, and Old Hurricane threw the whole mail between 
 them, and began to pick out the letters. 
 
 " That's for you. Cap. This is for me," he said, pitch- 
 ing out two in the handwriting of Herbert Greyson. 
 
 Cap opened hers, and commenced readiiag. It was in 
 fact Herbert's first do^vnright practical proposal of mar- 
 riage, in which he begged that their union might take place 
 as soon as he should return, and that as lie had written to 
 his uncle by the same mail, upon another subject, which 
 he did not wish to mix up with his own mari-iage, she 
 would, upon a proper opportunity, let her uncle know of 
 their plans. 
 
CAPITOLA A CAPITALIST. 
 
 581 
 
 ''Upon my word, he takes my consent very coolly as a 
 matter of course, and even forces ujion me the disagreeable 
 duty of asking myself of my own uncle ! Whoever heard 
 of such proceedings ! If he were not coming home from 
 the wars, I declare I should get angry ; but I won't get 
 upon my dignity with Herbert, — dear, darling, sweet Her- 
 bert — if it were anybody else, shouldn't they know the differ- 
 ence between their liege lady and Tom Trotter ? However, 
 as it^s Herbert, here goes ! JSTow, I suppose the best way to 
 ask myself of uncle, for Herbert, will be just to hand him 
 over this letter. The dear knows it isn't so over and above 
 affectionate that I should hesitate. Uncle," said Cap, pull- 
 ing Old Hurricane's coat-sleeve. 
 
 Don't bother me. Cap," exclaimed Major Warfield, 
 who sat there holding a large, closely- written document in 
 his hand, with his great round eyes strained from their 
 sockets, as they passed along the lines with devouring 
 interest. 
 
 '' Well, I do declare ! I do believe he has received a 
 proposal of marriage himself," cried Cap, shooting much 
 nearer the truth than she knew. 
 
 Old Hurricane did not hear her. Starting up with the 
 document in his hand, he rushed from the room, and went 
 and shut himself up in his own study. 
 
 *' I vow, some vv'idow has offered to marry him," said 
 Cap, to herself. 
 
 Old Hurricane did not come to dinner, nor to supper. 
 But after supper, when Capitola's wonder was at its climax, 
 and while she was sitting by the little wood fire that the 
 chilly evening required, Old Hurricane came in, looking 
 very unlike himself, in an humble, confused, deprecating, 
 yet happy manner, like one who had at once a mortifying 
 confession to make, and a happy secret to tell. 
 
 '' Cap," he said, trying to repress a smile, and growing 
 purple in the face. 
 
 *' Oh, yes ! you^ve come to tell me, I suppose, that 
 
582 
 
 OAPITOLA A CAPITALIST. 
 
 you're going to put a step-aunt-in-Lw over my head, only 
 you don't know how to announce it," answered Capitola, 
 little knowing how closely she had come to the truth ; 
 when to her unbound astonishment. Old Hurricane 
 answered : 
 
 '^^Yes, my dear, that's just it F' 
 
 ''''What ! My eyes! Oh crick ey !" cried Cap, breaking 
 into her newsboy's slang, from more consternation. 
 
 Yes, my dear, it is perfectly true !" replied the old 
 man, growing furiously red, and rubbing his face. 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! oh ! Hold me ! I'm ' kilt !' " cried Cap, 
 falling back in her chair in an inextinguishable fit of laugh- 
 ter, that shook her whole frame. She laughed until the 
 tears ran down her cheeks. She wiped her eyes and looked 
 at Old Hurricane, and every time she saw his confused and 
 happy face, she burst into a fresh paroxysm that seemed 
 to threaten her life or her reason. 
 
 Who is the happy—. Oh, I can't speak ! Oh, I'm 
 * kilt entirely !'" she cried, breaking off in the midst of 
 her question, and falling into fresh convulsions. 
 
 It's no new love. Cap. It's my old wife!" said Old 
 Hurricane, wiping his face. 
 
 This brought Capitola up with a jerk ! She sat bolt 
 upright, gazing at him with her eyes fixed as if in death. 
 
 "Cap," said Old Hurricane, growing more and more 
 confused, " I've been a married man more years thnn Hike 
 to think of ! Cap, I've — I've a wife and grown-up son ! 
 What do you sit there staring at me for, you little demon ? 
 Why don't you say something to encourage me, you little 
 wretch ?" 
 
 Go on," said Cap, without removing her eyes. 
 
 "' Cap, I was — a jealous — passionate — Deiiimy ! confes- 
 sion isn't m my line ! A diabolical villain made me believe 
 that my poor little wife wasn't good !" 
 
 " There ! I knew you'd lay it on somebody else. Men 
 always do that !" said Cap to herself. 
 
OAPrrOLA A CAPITALIST. 
 
 583 
 
 '^He was mortally wounded in Mexico. He made a 
 confession-, and confided it to Herbert, who lias just sent 
 me an attested copy. It was Le Noir. My poor wife lived 
 under her girlhood^s name of Marah Eocke/' Old Hurri- 
 cane made a gulp, and his voice broke down. 
 
 Cap understood all now, as well as if she had known it 
 as long as old Hurricane had. She comprehended his 
 extreme agitation upon a certain evening, years ago, ^yhen 
 Herbert Greyson had mentioned Marah Eocke's name, and 
 his later and more lasting disturbance upon accidentally 
 meeting Marah at the Orphans' Court. 
 
 This revelation filled her with strange and contradictory 
 emotions. She was glad ; shjp was angry with him ; she 
 was sorry for him ; she was divided between divers impulses 
 to hug and kiss him, to cry over him, and to sieze him and 
 give him a good shaking ! And between them she did 
 nothing at all. 
 
 Old Hurricane was again the first to speak. 
 What was that you wished to say to me. Cap, when I 
 ran away from you this morning ?" 
 
 "Why, uncle, that Herbert wants to follow your 
 
 example, and — and — and Cap blushed and broke 
 
 down. 
 
 " I thought as much. Getting married at his age ! a 
 boy of twenty-five said the veteran in contempt. 
 
 " Taking a wife at your age, uncle, an infant of sixty- 
 six 
 
 Bother, Cap ! Let me see the fellow's letter to you." 
 Cap handed it to him, and the old man read it. 
 If I were to object, you'd get married all the same ! 
 Demmy ! you're both of age. Do as you please." 
 " Thank you, sir," said Cap, demurely. 
 And now. Cap, one thing is to be noticed. Herbert 
 says, both in your letter and in mine, that they were to 
 start to return the day after these letters were posted. 
 These letters have been delayed iu the mail. Consequently 
 
584 
 
 OAPiTOLA A CAPITAList. 
 
 we may expect our hero here every day. But Cap, my 
 dear, you must receive them. For to-morrow morning, 
 please the Lord, I shall set out for Staunton and Willow 
 Heights, and go and kneel down at the feet of my wife, 
 and ask her pardon on my knees 
 
 Cap was no longer divided between the wish to pull Old 
 Ilurricane^'s gray beard and to cry over him. She throw 
 herself at once into his arms and exclaimed : 
 
 " Oh uncle ! God bless you ! God bless you ! God 
 bless you ! It has come very late in life, but may you be 
 happy with her through all tlie ages of eternity.'^ 
 
 Old Hurricane was deeply moved by the sympathy of 
 his little madcap, and pressed her to his bosom, saying : 
 
 Cap, my dear, if you had not set your heart upon 
 Herbert, I would marry you to my son Traverse, and you 
 two should inherit all that I have in the world ! But never 
 mind. Cap, you have an inheritance of your own ! Cap, 
 Cap, my dear, did it ever occur to you that you might have 
 had a father and mother T' 
 
 Yes ! often ! But I used to think you were my father, 
 and that my mother was dead/^ 
 
 ^'1 wish to the Lord that I had been your father, Cap, 
 and that Marah Rocke had been your mother I But Cap, 
 your father was a better man than I, and your mother as 
 good a woman as Marah. And Cap, my dear, you vagabond, 
 you vagrant, you brat, you beggar, you are the sole heiress 
 of the Hidden House estate and all its enormous wealth ! 
 What do yoa think of that now, what do you think of that^ 
 you beggar V cried Old Hurricane. 
 
 A shriek pierced the air, and Capitola starting up, stood 
 before Old Hurricane, crying in an impassioned voice : 
 
 Uncle ! Uncle ! don't mock me ! don't overwhelm me ! 
 I do not care for wealth or power ; but tell me of the parents 
 who possessing loth, cast off their unfortunate child — a girl, 
 too ! to meet the sufferings and perils of such a life as mine 
 had been, if I had not met you P 
 
OATITOLA A CAPITALIST. 
 
 585 
 
 Cap, my dear, hush ! your parents were no more to 
 blame for their seeming abandonment of you, than / was to 
 blame for the desertion of my poor wife. We are all the 
 victims of one villain who has now gone to his account, 
 Capitol a. I mean Gabriel Le ISToir. Sit down my dear, 
 and I v/ill read the copy of his whole confession, and after- 
 wards, in addition, tell you all / know upon the subject 
 
 Capitola resumed her seat, and Major Warlield read the 
 confession of Gabriel Le Noir, and afterwards continued 
 the subject by relating the events of that memorable Hallow 
 Eve when he was called out in a snow storm to take the 
 dying deposition of the nurse who had been abducted with 
 the infant Capitola. 
 
 And at the end of his narrative, Cap, knew as much of 
 her own history as the reader has known all along. 
 
 And I have a mother ! and I shall even see her soon ! 
 you told me she was coming home with the party — did you 
 not, Uncle V said Capitola. 
 
 Yes, my child. Only think of it ? / saved the 
 daughter from the streets of New York, and my son saved 
 the mother from her prison at the madhouse ! And now 
 my dear Cap, I must bid you good night and go to bed, 
 for I intend to rise to-morrow morning long before day- 
 light, to ride to Tip Top to meet the Staunton stage, said 
 the old man, kissing Capitola. 
 
 Just as he was about to leave the room, he was arrested 
 by a loud ringing and knocking at the door. 
 
 Wool was heard running along the front hall to answer 
 the summons. 
 
 Cap, I shouldn't wonder much if that was our party. 
 I wish it may be, for I should like to welcome them before 
 I leave home to fetch my wife," said Old Hurricane, in a 
 voice of agitation. 
 
 And while they were still eagerly listening, the door w^as 
 thrown open by Wool, who announced : 
 
 '^Marse Herbert, which I mean to say. Major Herbeit, 
 
586 
 
 OAPITOLA A CAPITALIST. 
 
 Greyson ; and Herbert entered and was grasped by the 
 two hands of Old Hiirricaue, who exclaimed : 
 
 *^Ah;, Herbert^ my lad ! I have got your letters. It is 
 all right, Herbert, or going to be so. You shall marry Cap 
 when you like. And I am going to-morrow morning to 
 throw myself at the feet of my wife.^' 
 
 ^'E'o need of your going so far, dear sir, no need. Let 
 me speak to my own dear girl a moment, and then I shall 
 have something to say to you,'^ said Herbert, leaving the 
 old man in suspense, and going to salute Capitola, who re- 
 turned his fervent embrace by an honest, downright frank 
 kiss, that made no secret of itself. 
 
 Capitola ! My uncle has told you all 
 Every single bit ! so don^t lose time by telling it all 
 over again ! Is my mother with you 
 
 Yes ! and I will bring her in, in one moment ; but 
 first I must bring in some one else,'"* said Herbert, kissing 
 the hand of Capitola and turning to Old Hurricane, to 
 whom he said : 
 
 " You need not travel far to find Marah. We took 
 
 Staunton in our way, and brought her and Clara along 
 
 Traverse V he said, going to the door — bring in your 
 mother/' 
 
 And the next instant. Traverse entered with the wife of 
 Major Warfield upon his arm. 
 
 Old Hurricane started forward to meet her, exclaiming 
 in a broken voice : 
 
 Marah, my dear Marah, God may forgive me, but can 
 you — can you ever do so and he would have sunk at her 
 feet, but that she prevented, by meeting him and silently 
 placing both her hands in his. And so quietly Marah's for- 
 giveness was expressed, and the reconciliation sealed. 
 
 Meanwhile Herbert went out, and brought in Mrs. Le 
 Noir and Clara. Mrs. Le Noir with a Frenchwoman's 
 impetuosity, hurried to her daughter, and clasped her to 
 her heart. 
 
THEEE shall be light at the EVENTroE." 58? 
 
 Cap gave one hurried glance at tlie beautiful pale 
 woman that claimed from her a daughter's love, and then, 
 returning the caress^, she said : 
 
 " Oh, mamma ! Oh, mamma ! If I were only a boy 
 instead of a girl, I Avould thrash that Le ISToir within an 
 inch of his life ! But I forgot ! he is gone to his account/' 
 
 Old Hurricane was at this moment shaking hands with 
 his son. Traverse, who presently took occasion to lead up 
 and introduce his betrothed wife, Clara Day, to her 
 destined father-in-law. 
 
 Major Warfield received her with all a soldier's gallan- 
 try, a gentleman's courtesy and a father's tenderness. 
 
 He next shook hands with his old acquaintance, Mrs. 
 Le Noir. 
 
 And then supper was ordered, and the evening was 
 passed in general and comparative reminiscences and cheer- 
 ful conversation. 
 
 CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 "THERE SHALL BE LIGHT AT THE EVENTIDE.'* 
 
 Holy Bible. 
 
 " They shall be blessed exceedingly ; their store 
 Grow daily, weekly more and more, 
 And peace so multiply around, 
 Their very hearth seems holy ground." 
 
 — Mary Howitt. 
 
 The marriage of Capitola and Herbert, and that of 
 Clara and of Traverse, was fixed to take place upon the 
 first of August, which was the twenty-first birth-day of the 
 doctor's daughter, and also the twenty-fifth anniversary of 
 the wedding of Ira Warfield and Mar ah Eock^. 
 
588 THER12 SHALL BJJ LIGHT AT TIlEj EVENTIDE." 
 
 German husbands and wives have a beautiful custom of 
 keeping the twenty-fifth aniversary of their marriage by a 
 festival which they call the " Silver Wedding/^ And thus 
 Major Warfield and Marah resolved to keep this first of 
 August, and farther to honor the occasion by uniting the 
 hands of their young people. 
 
 There was but one cloud upon the happiness of Capitola ; 
 this was the approaching execution of Black Donald. 
 
 No one else seemed to care about the matter, until a cir- 
 cumstance occurred which painfully aroused their interest. 
 
 This was the fact that the Governor, through the solici- 
 tation of certain ministers of the gospel, who represented 
 the condemned as utterly unprepared to meet his fate, had 
 respited him until the first of August, at which time, he 
 wished the prisoner to be made to understand that his sen- 
 tence would certainly, without farther delay, be carried 
 into effect 
 
 This carried a sort of consternation into the heart of 
 every member of the Hurricane Hall household ! 
 
 The idea of Black Donald being hung in their immedi- 
 ate neighborhood upon their wedding day was appalling ! 
 
 Yet there was no help for it, unless their wedding was 
 postponed to another occasion than that upon which Old 
 Hurricane had set his heart. No one knew what to do. 
 
 Cap fretted herself almost sick. She had cudgelled her 
 brains to no purpose. She had not been able to think of 
 any plan by which she could deliver Black Donald. Mean- 
 time the last days of July were rapidly passing away. 
 
 Black Donald in the condemned cell maintained his 
 firmness, resolutely asserting his innocence of any capital 
 crime, and persistently refusing to give up his band. As a 
 last motive of confession, the paper written by Gabriel Le 
 Noir upon his death-bed was shown him. He laughed a 
 loud, crackling laugh, and said that was all true, but that 
 he, for his j)art, never had intended to harm a hair of Oap- 
 itola's head ; that he had taken a fancy to the girl when 
 
THERE SHALL BE LIGHT AT THE EVENTIDE.^' 5S0 
 
 he had first seen her^ and had only wanted to carry her off 
 and force her into a marriage with himself ; that he had 
 pretended to consent to her death only for the purpose of 
 saving her life. 
 
 When Cap heard this she burst into tears, and said she 
 believed it was true ! 
 
 The night before the wedding of Capitola and Herbert, 
 and Clara and Traverse, and of the execution of Black 
 Donald^ came. 
 
 At Hurricane Hall, the two prospective bridegrooms 
 were busy ^vith Old Hurricane over some papers that had 
 to be prepared in the library. 
 
 The two intended brides were engaged, under the direc- 
 tion of Mrs. Wariield, in lier dressing room, consulting over 
 certain proprieties of the approaching festival. But Cap- 
 itola could give only a half attention to the discussion. Her 
 thoughts were with the poor condemned man who was to 
 die the next day. 
 
 And suddenly she flew out of the room, summoned her 
 groom, mounted her horse, and rode away. 
 
 In his condemned cell Black Donald was bitterly realiz- 
 ing how unprepared he was to die, and how utterly impossi- 
 ble it was for him to prepare in the short hours left. He 
 tried to pray, but could form no other petition than tliat 
 he might be allowed, if possible, a little longer to fit him- 
 self to meet his Creator. From his cell he could hear 
 the striking of the great clock in the prison hall. And 
 as every hour struck, it seomed nail driven in his 
 coffin.^^ 
 
 At eight o^clock that night the warden sat in his little 
 oflBce, consulting the sheriff about some details of the ap- 
 proaching execution. While they were still in discussion, 
 a turnkey opened the door, saying : 
 A lady to see the warden. 
 
 And Capitola stood before them ! 
 
 '^Miss Black V exclaimed both sheriff and warden. 
 
690 THEEE SHALL BE LIOHT AT THE EVENTIDE." 
 
 rising in surprise, gazing upon our heroine, and addressing 
 her by the name under which they had first known her. 
 
 " Yes, gentlemen, it is I. TJie truth is, I cannot rest 
 to-night without saying a few words of comfort to the poor 
 man who is to die to-morrow. So I came hither, attended 
 by my groom, to know if I may see him for a few 
 minutes/' 
 
 ^^Miss Black, here is the sheriff. It is just as he 
 pleases. My orders were so strict that had you come to me 
 alone I should have been obliged to refuse you.''' 
 
 " Mr. Keepe, you will not refuse me," said Oapitola 
 turning to the sheriff. 
 
 ^^Miss Black, my rule is to admit no one but the 
 officers of the prison and the ministers of the gospel, to see 
 the condemned ! This we have been obliged to observe as 
 a measure of safety. This convict, as you are aware, is a 
 man of consummate cunning, so that it is really wonderful 
 he has not found means to make his escape, closely as he 
 has been watched and strongly as he has been guarded." 
 
 Ah, but Mr. Keepe, his cunning was no match for 
 mine, you know V said Capitohi, smiling. 
 
 Ha-ha-ha ! so it was not ! You took him very cleverly ! 
 very cleverly, indeed I In fact, if it had not been for you, 
 I doubt if ever we should have captured Black Donald at all. 
 The authorities are entirely indebted to you for the capture 
 of this notorious outlaw. And really that being the case, I 
 do think it would be straining a point to refuse you admit- 
 tance to see him ! So, Miss Black, you have my authority 
 for visiting the condemned man in his cell and giving him 
 all the comfort you can. I would attend you thither my- 
 self, but I have got to go to see the captain of a militia com- 
 pany to be on the scene of action to-morrow,'' said the 
 sheriff, who soon after took leave of the warden and departed. 
 
 The warden then called a turnkey and ordered him to 
 attend Miss Black to the condemned cell. 
 
" THERE SHALL BE LIGHT AT THE EVENTIDE." 591 
 
 The young turnkey took up a lamp and a great key and 
 walked before, leading tlie way down stairs to a cell in the 
 interior of the basement, occupied by Black Donald. 
 
 He unlocked the door, admitted Capitola, and then 
 walked off to the extremity of the lobby, as he was accus- 
 tomed to do when he let in the preachers. 
 
 Capitola thanked heaven for this chance, for had he not 
 done so she would have had to invent some excuse of getting 
 rid of him. 
 
 She entered the cell. It was very dimly lighted from 
 the great lamp that hung in the lobby, nearly opposite the 
 cell door. 
 
 By its light she saw Black Donald, not only doubly ironed 
 but confined by a chain and staple to the wall. He was 
 very pale and haggard from long imprisonment and great 
 anxiety. 
 
 Cap's heart bled for the poor banned and blighted 
 outlaw, who had not a friend in the world to speak a kind 
 word to him in his trouble. 
 
 He also recognized her, and rising and coming to meet 
 her as far as the length of the chain would permit, he held 
 out his hand and said : 
 
 ^' I am very glad you have come, little one ; it is very 
 kind of you to come and see a poor fellow in his extremity ! 
 You are the first female that has been in my cell since my 
 imprisonment. Think of that, child ! I wanted to see j^ou 
 too ; I wanted to say to you yourself again, that I never 
 was guilty of murder, and that I only seemed to consent to 
 your death to save your life ! Do you believe this ? — On 
 the word of a dying man it is truth \" 
 
 I do believe you, Donald Bayne," said Capitola, in a 
 broken voice. 
 
 I hear that you have come into your estate ! I am 
 glad of it. And they tell me that you are going to be mar- 
 ried to-morrow ! Well ! God bless you, little one V 
 
592 " THEEE SHALL BE LIGHT AT THE EVENTIDE.'* 
 
 Oh, Donald Bayne I Can you say God bless me, when 
 it was I who put you here 
 
 " Tut, child, we outlaws bear no malice ! Spite is a 
 civilized vice ! It was a fair contest, child, and you con- 
 quered ! It's well you did ! Give me your hand in good 
 will, since I must die to-morrow !" 
 
 Capitola gave her hand, and while he held it, she 
 stooped and said : 
 
 ^' Donald ! I have done everything in the world to save 
 your life \" 
 
 I know you have, child. May yours be long and 
 happy/' 
 
 '^Donald, may your life be longer and better than you 
 think. I have tried all other means of saving you in vain; 
 there is but one means left.-" 
 
 The outlaw started violently, exclaiming: 
 
 ^' Is THERE ONE ?" 
 
 Donald, yes ! there is ! I bring you the means of 
 deliverance and escape. Heaven knows whethet- I am 
 doing right — for I do not. I know many people would 
 blame me very much, but I hope that he who forgave the 
 thief upon the cross and the sinful woman at his feet, will 
 not condemn me for following his own compassionate ex- 
 ample. For Donald, as / was the person whom you injured 
 most of all others, so I consider that / of all others have 
 the best riglit to pardon you and set you free. Oh, Don- 
 ald ! use well the life I am about to give you, else I shall 
 be chargeable with every future sin you commit \" 
 
 *^In the name of mercy do not hold out a false hope. 
 I had nerved myself to die.'' 
 
 " But you were not prepared to meet your Maker. Oh, 
 Donald ! I hold out no false hope ! Listen, for I must 
 speak low and quick — I could never be happy again, if, on 
 my wedding day, you should die a felon's death ! Hero ! 
 here are tools with the use of which you must be .'ic- 
 quainted, for they were found in the woods near the Hidden 
 
" THEEE SHALL BE LIGHT AT THE EVENTIDE." 593 
 
 House V said CapitoLi, producing from her pockets a burg- 
 lar's look-pick, saw, chisel, file, etc. 
 
 Black Donald seized them as a famished wolf might 
 seize his prey. 
 
 Will they do inquired Oapitola, in breathless 
 anxiety. 
 
 Yes ! yes ! yes ! I can file off my irons, pick every 
 lock, drive back every bolt, and dislodge every bar between 
 myself and freedom with these instruments ! But, child, 
 these is one thing you have forgotten : suppose a turnkey 
 or a guard should stop me ? — ^you have brought me no 
 revolver !" 
 
 Capitola turned pale. 
 
 " Donald, I could easily have brought you a revolver ; 
 but I would not, even to save you from to-morrow^s death. 
 'No, Donald ! no ! I give you the means of freeing yourself, 
 if you can do it, as you may, without bloodshed. But, 
 Donald, though your life is not justly forfeited, your 
 liberty is, and so I cannot give you the means of taking 
 any one's life for the sake of saving your own.^^ 
 You are right, said the outlaw. 
 Listen, further, Donald. Here are a thousand dollars. 
 I thought never to have taken it from the bank, for I would 
 never have used the price of blood. But I drew it to-day 
 for you. Take it — it will help you to live a hotter life. 
 When you have picked your way out of this place, go to 
 the great elm tree at the back of the old mill, and you will 
 find my horse, Gyp, whom I shall have tied there. He is 
 very swift — mount him and ride for your life to the nearest 
 seaport, and so escape by a vessel to some foreign country. 
 And oh ! try to lead a good life, and may God redeem you, 
 Donald Bayne ! There ! conceal your tools and money , 
 quickly, for I hear the guard coming. Good-bye ! and 
 again, — God redeem you, Donald Bayne V 
 
 ••' God bless you, brave and tender girl ! And God for- 
 sake me if I do not heed your advice said the outlaw. 
 
594: " THERE SHALL BE LIGHT AT THE EVENTIDE." 
 
 pressing the hand she gave him, while the tears rushed to 
 his eyes. 
 
 The guard approached, Capitola turned to meet him. 
 They left the cell together, and Black Donald was locked 
 in for the last time. 
 
 0, I hope, I pray that he may get off ! 0, what 
 shall I do if he doesn't ! How can I enjoy my wedding 
 to-morrow ! how can I bear the music, and the dancing, 
 and the rejoicing, when I know that a fellow creature is in 
 such a strait ! Oh ! Lord grant that Black Donald may 
 get clear off to-niglit, for he isn't fit to die V said Cap to 
 herself as she hurried out of the prison. 
 
 Her young groom was waiting for her, and she mounted 
 her horse and rode until they got to the old haunted 
 church at the end of the village, when, drawing rein, she 
 said : 
 
 "Jem, I am very tired. I will wait here, and you 
 must just ride back to the village, to Mr. CasselFs livery 
 stable, and get a gig, and put your horse into it, and come 
 back here to drive me home, for I cannot ride.'' 
 
 Jem, who never questioned his imperious little mis- 
 tress's orders, rode off at once to do her bidding. 
 
 Cap immediately dismounted from her pony, and led 
 him under the deep shadows of the elm tree, where she 
 fastened him. Then taking his face between her hands, and 
 looking him in the eyes, she said : 
 
 " Gyp, my son, you and I have had many a frolic to- 
 gether, but we've got to part now ! It almost breaks my 
 heart. Gyp, but it is to save a fellow creature's life, and it 
 can't be helped ! He'll treat you well, for my sake, dear 
 Gyp. Gyp ! he'll part with his life sooner than sell you ! 
 Good-bye dear, dear Gyp !" 
 
 Gyp took all these caresses in a very nonchalant manner, 
 only snorting and pawing in reply. 
 
 Presently the boy came back, bringing the gig. Cap 
 
" THERE SHALL BE LIGHT AT THE EVENTIDE.'' 595 
 
 once mere hugged Gyp about the neck, pressed her cheek 
 against his mane, and witli a whispered ^' Grood-bye, dear 
 Gyp,'' sprang into the gig, and ordered the boy to drive 
 home. 
 
 An' k-ab the pony, Miss ?" 
 
 Oh yes, for the present ; everybody knows Gyp, — no 
 one will steal him. I have left him length of line enough 
 to -move around a little and eat grass, drink from the brook, 
 or lie down. You can come after him early to-morrow 
 morning-." 
 
 The little groom thought this a queer arrangement, but 
 he was not in the habit of criticizing his young mistress's 
 actions. 
 
 Capitola got home to a late supper, and to the anxious 
 inquiries of her friends she replied that she had been to the 
 prison to take leave of Black Donald, and begged that they 
 would not pursue so painful a subject. 
 
 And, in respect to Cap's sympathies, they changed the 
 conversation. 
 
 That night the remnant of Black Donald's band were 
 assembled in their first old haunt, the Old Eoad Inn. 
 They had met for a two-fold purpose — to bury their old 
 matron, Mother Kaven, who, since the death of her patron 
 and the apprehension of her Captain, had returned to the 
 inn to die — and to bewail the fate of their leader, whose 
 execution was expected to come off the next day. 
 
 The men laid the poor old woman in her woodland 
 grave, and assembled in the kitchen to keep a death watch 
 in sympathy with their unfortunate " Captain. They 
 gathered around the table, and foaming mugs of ale were 
 freely quaffed, for sorrow's dry^^ they said. But neither 
 laugh, song, nor jest attended their draughts. They were 
 to keep that night's vigil in honor of their Captain, and 
 then were to disband and separate forever. 
 
 Suddenly, in the midst of their heavy grief and utter 
 
59G " THEEE SHALL BE LIGHT AT THE EVEKTIDE.^' 
 
 silence, a familiar sound was heard — a ringing footstep 
 under the hack windows. 
 
 And every man leaped to his feet;, with looks of wild 
 delight and questioning. 
 
 And the next instant the door was flung wide open, and 
 the outlaw chief stood among them ! 
 
 Hal' leaped forward and flung himself around Black 
 Donald's neck, exclaiming — 
 
 It's you ! it's you ! it's you ! my dear ! my darling ! 
 my adored ! my sweetheart ! my prince ! my lord ! my 
 king I my dear, dear Captain !" 
 
 Steve, the lazy mulatto, rolled down upon the flooi* at 
 his master's feet, and embraced them in silence. 
 
 While Demon Dick growled forth — 
 How the foul fiend did you get out ?" 
 
 And the anxious faces of all the other men silently 
 repeated the question. 
 
 Not by any help of yours, boys ! But don't think I 
 reproach you, lads ! Well I know that you could do noth- 
 ing on earth to save me ! No one on earth could have helped 
 me except the one who really freed me — Capitola !" 
 
 "That girl again !" exclaimed Hal', in the extremity of 
 wonder. 
 
 Steve stopped rolling and curling himself around the feet 
 of his master, and gazed up in stupid astonishment. 
 
 "It's to be hoped, then, you've got her at last, Cai3tain," 
 said Demon Dick. 
 
 "No— Heaven bless her ! — she's in better hands. Now 
 listen, lads, for I must talk fast ! I have already lost a great 
 deal too much time. I went first to the cave in the Punch 
 Bowl, and not finding you there, came here at a venture, 
 where I am happy to meet you for the last time — for to- 
 night we disband forever !" 
 
 " 'Twas our intention, Capfcaih," said HaP, in a melan- 
 choly voice. " 
 
" THEliE SHALL BE LiGIlT AT THE EVEKTIDE." 597 
 
 Black Donald then threw himself into a seat at the head 
 of the table, poured out a mug of ale, and invited his band 
 to pledge him. They gathered around the table, filled their 
 mugs, pledged him standing, and then resumed their seats 
 to listen to the last words of their chief. 
 
 Black Donald commenced and related the manner of 
 his deliverance by Capitola ; and then taking from his 
 bosom a bag of gold, he poured it upon the table and 
 divided it into two equal portions, one of which he handed 
 to Headlong HalV^ saying — 
 
 ''There, Hal', take that and divide it among your com- 
 panions, and scatter to distant parts of the country^ where 
 you may yet have a chance of earning an honest livelihood! 
 As for me I shall have to quit the country altogether, and 
 it will take nearly half this sum to enable me to do it. Now 
 I shall have not a minute more to give you ! So once more 
 pledge your Captain, and away I" 
 
 The men filled their mugs, rose to their feet, and 
 pledged their leader in a parting toast, and then — 
 
 Good luck to you all I" exclaimed Black Donald, wav- 
 ing his hat thrice above his head with a valedictory hurrah. 
 And the next moment he was gone ! 
 
 That night, if any watchman had been on guard near 
 the stables of Hurricane Hall, he might have seen a tall man 
 mounted upon Capitola^s pony, ride up in hot haste, dis- 
 mount and pick the stable lock, take Gyp by the bridle and 
 lead him in, and presently return leading out Fleetfoot, Old 
 Hurricane's racer, upon which he mounted and rode away. 
 
 The next morning, while Capitola was dressing, her 
 groom rapped at the door and, in great dismay, begged that 
 he might speak to Miss Cap one minute. 
 
 ''Well, what i«s it, Jem ?" said Capitola. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Cap, you^ll kill me ! I done been got up long 
 afore day and gone to Tip Top r.rter Gyp ; but somebody 
 done been stole him away afore I got there T' 
 
698 " THERE SHALL BE5 LIGHT AT THE EVENTIDE.^* 
 
 Thank Heaven cried Capitola, to little Jem^s un- 
 speakable amazement. For to Capitola the absence of her 
 horse meant Just the escape of Black Donald ! 
 
 The next minute Cap sighed and said : 
 Poor Gyp ! I shall never see you again V 
 
 That was all she knew of the future ! 
 
 That morning while they were all at breakfast, a groom 
 from the stable came in, with a little canvas bag in his hand, 
 which he laid, with a bow, before his master. 
 
 Major Warfield took it up ; it was full of gold, and upon 
 one side was written, in red chalk : 
 
 Three hundred dollars, to pay for ileetfoot. Black 
 Donald, Reformed Roller. 
 
 While Old Hurricane was reading this inscription, the 
 groom said that Fleetfoot was missing from his stall, and 
 that Miss Cap^s pony, that was supposed to have been 
 stolen, was found in his place, with this bag of gold tied 
 around his neck ! 
 
 "It is Black Donald ! he has escaped V' cried Old 
 Hurricane, about to fling himself into a rage, when his 
 furious eyes encountered the gentle gaze of Marah, that 
 fell like oil on the waves of his rising passion. 
 
 " Let him go I I'll not storm on my silver wedding- 
 day, said Major Warfield. 
 
 As for Cap, her eyes danced with delight ; the only 
 little clouds upon her bright sky were removed. Black 
 Donald had escaped to commence a better life, and Gyp 
 was restored ! 
 
 That evening a magnificent, old-fashioned wedding came 
 off at Hurricane Hall. 
 
 The double ceremony was performed by the bishop of 
 the diocese (then on a visit to the neighborhood), in the 
 ,^reat saloon of Hurricane Hall, in the presence of as large 
 and splendid an assembly as could be gathered together 
 from that remote neighborhood. 
 
" THERE SHALL BE LIGHT AT THE EVENTIDE." 599 
 
 The two brides^ of course, were loyely in white satin 
 and honiton lace, pearls and orange flowers. Equally/^ 
 of course, the bridegrooms were handsome and elegant, 
 proud and happy. 
 
 To this old-fashioned wedding succeeded a round of 
 dinners and evening parties given by the wedding guests. 
 And when all these old-time customs had been observed for 
 the satisfaction of old friends, the bridal party went upon 
 the new-fashioned tour, for their own delight. They spent 
 a year in traveling over the Eastern Continent, and then 
 returned home to settle upon their patrimonial estates. 
 
 Major Warfield and Marah live at Hurricane Hall, and 
 as his heart is satisfied and at rest, his temper is gradually 
 improving. As the lion shall be led by the little child. Old 
 Hurricane is led by the gentlest woman that ever loved or 
 suffered, and she is leading him in his old age to the 
 Saviour's feet. 
 
 Clara and Traverse live at Willow Heights, which has 
 been repaired, enlarged and improved, and where Traverse 
 has already an extensive practice, and where both endeavor 
 to emulate the enlightened goodness of the sainted Doctor 
 Day. 
 
 Cap and Herbert, with Mrs. Le N"oir, live at the Hidden 
 House, which has been turned by wealth and taste into a 
 dwelling of light and beauty. As the bravest are always 
 the gentlest, so the most high-spirited are always the most 
 forgiving. And thus the weak or wicked old Dorcas 
 Knight still finds a home under the roof of Mrs. Le Noir. 
 Her only retribution being the very mild one of having her 
 relations changed in the fact that her temporary prisoner 
 is now her mistress and sovereign lady. 
 
 I wish I could say they all lived happy ever after/' 
 But the truth is, I have reason to suppose that even Clara 
 had sometimes occasion to administer to Doctor Rocke 
 dignified curtain lectures; which no doubt did him good,, 
 
600 " THERE SHALL BE LIGHT AT THE EVENTIDE/ 
 
 And I know for a positive fact, that our Cap sometimes 
 gives her " dear, darling, sweet Herbert,^' the benefit of the 
 sharp edge of her tongue, which of course he deserves. 
 
 But notwithstanding all this, I am happy to say that 
 they all enjoy a fair amount of human felicity. 
 
 THE ENJ}.. 
 
e. W. DILLENCHAM, Successor. 
 
 1887. 
 
 1887. 
 
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 Bad Boy's Reader— F. Bellew.. 10 
 
 Abijah Beanpole in New York. 50 
 
 Never — Companion to " Don't.".. 25 
 
 Always — By author of " Never.".. 25 
 
 Stop — By author of " Never." 25 
 
 Smart Sayings of Children — Paul i 00 
 
 Crazy History of the U. S 50 
 
 Cats, Cooks, etc.— By E. T. Ely.. 50 
 
 Dawn to Noon— By Violet Fane..|i 50 
 
 Constance's Fate. Do. .. 1 50 
 
 French Love Songs — ^Translated. 50 
 
 Lion Jack — By P. T. Barnum.... i 50 
 
 Jack in the Jungle. Do. .... i 50 
 
 How to Win in Wall Street.. . . 50 
 
 The Life of Sarah Bernhardt. . . 25 
 
 Arctic Travels — By Dr. Hayes., i 50 
 
 Whist for Beginners 25 
 
 Flashes from "Ouida." i 25 
 
 Lady Blake's Love Letters 25 
 
 Lone Ranch — By Mayne Reid.. . i 50 
 
 The Train Boy — Horatio Alger., i 25 
 
 Miscellaneous Works. 
 
 West India P7,ckl£S.W.P.TaIboy:4i 00 
 The Comic Liar—- By Aiden. . . . . . x 50 
 
 Store Drumming ai; a Fine Art. 50 
 Mr.Spriggins— By WidowBedott. t 50 
 Phemie Frost — Ann S. Stephens. : -^o 
 That Awful Boy— N. Y. Weekly. i 
 That Bridget of Ours. Do. .. 50 
 Orpheus C.Kerr — Four vols. in one. 2 00 
 ..25 
 
 25 
 
 Ingglish az she iz Spelt. 
 Man Abroad. 
 
 Dan, The Detective. 
 
 Do. .. I 25 
 
 Miscellaneous Novels. 
 
 Gospels in Poetry— E.H.Kimball.^i 50 
 
 The Life of Victor Hugo 50 
 
 Don Quixote. Illustrated 
 
 Arabian Nights. Do 
 
 Robinson Crusoe. Do 
 
 Swiss Family Robinson — lUus.. 
 Debatable Land— R. Dale Owen. 
 Threading My Way. Do. 
 Spiritualism— By D. D. Home... 
 Fanny Fern Memorials— Parton 
 Northern Ballads-E. L.Anderson 
 Stories about Doctors — JefEreson 
 Stories about Lawyers. Do. 
 
 I 00 
 I 00 
 1 00 
 
 1 00 
 
 2 CO 
 
 1 50 
 
 2 00 
 2 00 
 I 00 
 I so 
 
 I SO 
 
 Doctor Antonio— By Ruffini fi 50 
 
 Beatrice Cenci — From the Italian, i 50 
 
 The Story of Mary i 50 
 
 Madame — By Frank Lee Benedict i 50 
 A Late Remorse. Do. i 50 
 
 Hammer and Anvil. Do. i 50 
 
 Her Friend Laurence. Do. i 50 
 
 Mignonnette — By Sangrde i 00 
 
 Jessica— By Mrs. W. H. White i 50 
 
 Women of To-day. Do 1 50 
 
 The Baroness — Joaquin Miller... i 50 
 One Fair Woman. Do. ... 150 
 TheBurnhams — Mrs.G.E. Stewart 2 00 
 Eugene Ridgewood— Paul James i 50 
 Braxton's Bar— R. M. Daggett., i 50 
 
 Miss Beck— By Tilbury Holt i 50 
 
 A Wayward Life i 00 
 
 Winning Winds — Emerson i 50 
 
 A College Widow — C.H.Seymour i 
 Me — By Mrs. Spencer W. Coe.... 
 Peace Pelican — Fannie Smith. .. i 
 Hidden Power— T. H. Tibbies... i 
 
 Two of Us— Calista Halsey 
 
 Cupid on Crutches — A. B. Wood. 
 ParsonThorne — E.M.Buckingham i 
 
 Errors— By Ruth Carter 150 
 
 UnmistakableFlirtation — Garner 75 
 
 Wild Oats — Florence Marryatt... i 50 
 
 Widow Cherry — B. L. Farjeon.. 25 
 
 Solomon Isaacs. Do. .. 50 
 
 Doctor Mortimer — Fannie B-ean. i 50 
 
 Two Brides — Bernard O'ReUly.. i 50 
 
 Louise and I — By Chas. Dodge., i 50 
 
 My Queen — By Saiidette i 50 
 
 Fallen among Thieves — Rayne. i 50 
 
 Saint Loger — Richard B. Kimball i 75 
 
 Was He Successful ? — Kimball. $i 75 
 Undercurrents of Wall St. Do. i 75 
 Romance of Student Life. Do. i 75 
 To-day. Do. i 75 
 
 Life in San Domingo. Do. i 75 
 Henry Powers, Banker. Do. i 75 
 Led Astray — By Octave Feuillet. / 50 
 Boscobel, a Winter in Florida., t 25 
 
 The Darling of an Empire i 50 
 
 Confessions of Two 1 50 
 
 5° 
 
 Nina's Peril — By Mrs. Miller.., 
 Marguerite's Journal — For Girls 
 Rose of Memphis— W.C.Falkner 
 Spell-Bound — Alexandre Dumas. 
 Purple and Fine Linen — Fawcett 
 Pauline's Trial — L. D. Courtney. 
 The Forgiving Kiss— M. Loth.. 
 Measure for Measure — Stanley.. 
 Charette — An American novel .... 
 Fairfax— By John Esten Cooke... 
 Hilt to Hilt. Do. 
 Out of the Foam. Do. 
 Hammer and Rapier. Do. 
 Kenneth — By Sallie A. Brock.... 
 Heart Hungry.Mrs. Westmoreland 
 Clifford Troupe. Do. 
 Price of a Life— R. F. Sturgis. . . 
 
 Marston Hall— L. Ella Byrd i 50 
 
 Conquered— By a New Author... i 50 
 Tales from the Popular Operas, i. 50 
 Edith Murray— Joanna Mathews 1 50 
 San Miniato — Mrs.C. V.Hamilton, z 00 
 All for Her— A Tale of New York, i 50 
 L'Assommoir — Zola's great novel 100 
 
 Vesta Vane — By L. King, R i 50 
 
 Walworth's Novels — Six vols... 175 
 
CHARLES DICKENS' WORKS. 
 
 A NEW 
 
 EDITION. 
 
 Among" the many editions of the works of this greatest of 
 English Novelists, there has not been until noTvone that entirely 
 satisfies the public demand. — Without exception, they each have 
 some strong distinctive objection, — either the form and d'men- 
 sions of the volumes are unhandy — or, the type is sm - anil 
 indistinct — or, the illustrations are unsatisfactO'y-"Or, the bind- 
 ing is DOor — or, the price is too high. 
 
 An entirely new edition is now, however, published by G. W. 
 Carleton & Co., of New York, which, in every respectf ''onh 
 pletely satisfies the popular demand. — It is known as 
 
 "Carleton's New Illustrated Edition.*' 
 
 Complete in 15 Volumes. 
 
 The size and form is most convenient for holding, — the type 
 entirely new, and of a clear and open character that has received 
 the approval of the reading community in other works. 
 
 •The illustrations are by the original artists chosen by Charles 
 Dickens himself — and the paper, printing, and binding are of an 
 attractive and substantial character. 
 
 This beautiful new edition is complete in 15 volumes — at the 
 jxtremely reasonable price of $1.50 per volume, as follows 
 
 1. — PICKWICK papers and CATALOGUE. 
 
 2. — OLIVER TWIST. — UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELLER. 
 
 3. — DAVID COPPERFIELD. 
 
 4. — GREAT EXPECTATIONS, — ITALY AND AMERICA. 
 
 5. — DOMBEY AND SON. 
 
 6. — BARNABY RUDGE AND EDWIN DROOD. 
 
 7. — NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 
 
 8. — CURIOSITY SHOP AND MISCELLANEOUS.^ 
 
 9. — BLEAK HOUSE. 
 
 10. — LITTLE DORRIT. 
 
 11. — MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT. 
 
 12. — OUR MUTUAL FRIEND. 
 
 13. — CHRISTMAS BOOKS. — TALE OF TWO CITIES, 
 
 14. — SKETCHES BY BOZ AND HARD TIMES. 
 
 15. — child's ENGLAND AND MISCELLANEOUS, 
 
 The first volume — Pickwick Papers — contains an alphabetical 
 catalogue of a'l of Charles Dickens' writings, with their exact 
 positions in the volumes. 
 
 This edition is sold by Booksellers, everywheje — and single 
 specimen copies will be forwarded by msLil, paste free^ on re- 
 ceipt of pi ice, $1.50, by 
 
 G. W. DILLINGHAM, PubUsher, 
 
 SuccEssoB TO G W. Carleton & Co.,\ 
 
 33 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET, N. Y. 
 
Mrs. Mary J. Holmes* Works. 
 
 TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE. 
 ENGLISH ORPHANS. 
 HOMESTEAD ON HILLSIDE. 
 'LENA RIVERS. 
 MEADOW BROOK. 
 DORA DEANE. 
 COUSIN MAUDE. 
 MARIAN GREY. 
 
 DARKNESS AND DAYLIGHT. 
 
 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 CAMERON PRIDE. 
 
 ROSE MATHER. 
 
 ETHELYN'S MISTAKE. 
 
 MILLBANK. 
 
 EDNA BROWNING. 
 
 WEST LAWN. 
 
 EDITH LYLE. | MILDRED. 
 
 DAISY THORNTON. 
 CHATEAU D'OR. 
 QUEENIE HETHERTON. 
 BSSSIii S FORTUNE. 
 
 FORREST HOUSE. 
 MADELINE 
 
 CHRISTMAS STORim 
 
 GKETCHEN. {New.) 
 
 OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 "Mrs. Holmes' stories are universally read. Her admirers are numberless. 
 S'be is in many respects without a rival in the world of fiction. Her characters are 
 alw.iyt life-like, and she makes them talk and act like human beings, subject to the 
 same emotions, swayed by the same passions, and actuated by the same motives 
 which are common among men and women of every day existence. Mrs. Holmes 
 is very happy in portraying domestic life. Old and young peruse her stories 
 with great delight, for she writes in a style that all can comprehend." — Nc^u 
 York Weekly. 
 
 The North American Review, vol. 8i, page 557, says of Mrs. Mary J. 
 Holmes' novel, "English Orphans": — "With this novel of Mrs. Holmes' we have 
 been charmed, and so have a pr~tty numerous circle of discriminating readers to 
 whom we have lent it. The characterization is exquisite, especially so far as 
 concerns rural and village life, of which there are some pictures that deserve to 
 be hung up in perpsetual memory of types of humanity fast becoming extinct The 
 dialogues are generally brief, pointed, and appropriate. The plot seems simple, 
 so easily and naturally is it developed and consummated. Moreover, th«. story 
 thus gracefully constructed and written, inculcates without obtruding, not only 
 pure Christian morality in general, but, with especial point and power, the depen- 
 dence of true success on character, and of true respectability on merit." 
 
 Almost any new book which Mrs. Holmes' publisher might choose to an- 
 nounce from her pen would get an immediate and general reading. The inter- 
 est in her tales begins at once, and is maintained to the close. Her sentiments 
 are so sound, her sympathies so warm and ready, and her knowledge of manners, 
 character, and the varied incidenu of ordinary life is so thorough, that she would 
 find it difficult to write any other than m excellent Ule if she were to try it."— 
 Boston Banner. 
 
 The Yolumes are afl handsomely printed and bound in cloth, sold every 
 where, and seoi by mail, postage free, on receipt of price [$i.5<» each], by 
 
 G. W. DILLINGHAM, Publisher, 
 
 SUOGESSOR TO G W. CarLETON & Co., 
 
 83 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET, N. Y. 
 
w 
 
813.39 S725H 308471