HIDDEN HAND

by

MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH

Author of THE CURSE OF CLIFTON

New YorkHurst & CompanyPublishers

CONTENTS. 

 I. The Nocturnal Visit

 II. The Masks

 III. The Quest

 IV. Capitola

 V. The Discovery

 VI. A Short, Sad Story

 VII. Metamorphosis of the Newsboy

 VIII. Herbert Greyson

 IX. Marah Rocke

 X. The Room of the Trap-Door

 XI. A Mystery and a Storm at Hurricane Hall

 XII. Marah's Dream

 XIII. Marah's Memories

 XIV. The Wasting Heart

 XV. Cap's Country Capers

 XVI. Cap's Fearful Adventure

 XVII. Another Storm at Hurricane Hall

 XVIII. The Doctor's Daughter

 XIX. The Resigned Soul

 XX. The Outlaw's Rendezvous

 XXI. Gabriel LeNoir

 XXII. The Smuggler and Capitola

 XXIII. The Boy's Love

 XXIV. Capitola's Mother

 XXV. Cap's Tricks and Perils

 XXVI. The Peril and the Pluck of Cap

 XXVII. Seeking his Fortune

 XVIII. A Panic in the Outlaw's Den

 XXIX. The Victory Over Death

 XXX. The Orphan

THE HIDDEN HAND. 

CHAPTER I. 

THE NOCTURNAL VISIT. 

 * * * Whence is that knocking? How is't with me when every sound appals me? * * * I hear a knocking In the south entry! Hark!--More knocking! --Shakespeare. 

Hurricane Hall is a large old family mansion, built of dark-redsandstone, in one of the loneliest and wildest of the mountain regionsof 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 horseshoeform, the Devil's Hoof. 

On the fourth side the ground gradually descends in broken, rock andbarren soil to the edge of the wild mountain stream known as the Devil'sRun. 

When storms and floods were high the loud roaring of the wind throughthe wild mountain gorges and the terrific raging of the torrent over itsrocky course gave to this savage locality its ill-omened names ofDevil's Hoof, Devil's Run and Hurricane Hall. 

Major Ira Warfield, the lonely proprietor of the Hall, was a veteranofficer, who, in disgust at what he supposed to be ill-requitedservices, had retired from public life to spend the evening of hisvigorous age on this his patrimonial estate. Here he lived in seclusion, with his old-fashioned housekeeper, Mrs. Condiment, and his old familyservants and his favorite dogs and horses. Here his mornings wereusually spent in the chase, in which he excelled, and his afternoons andevenings were occupied in small convivial suppers among his few chosencompanions of the chase or the bottle. 

In person Major Warfield was tall and strongly built, reminding one ofsome old iron-limbed Douglas of the olden time. His features were largeand harsh; his complexion dark red, as that of one bronzed by longexposure and flushed with strong drink. His fierce, dark gray eyes weresurmounted by thick, heavy black brows that, when gathered into a frown, reminded one of a thunder cloud, as the flashing orbs beneath them didof lightning. His hard, harsh face was surrounded by a thick growth ofiron-gray hair and beard that met beneath his chin. His usual habit wasa black cloth coat, crimson vest, black leather breeches, long, blackyarn stockings, fastened at the knees, and morocco slippers with silverbuttons. 

In character Major Warfield was arrogant, domineering andviolent--equally loved and feared by his faithful old family servants athome--disliked and dreaded by his neighbors and acquaintances abroad, who, partly from his house and partly from his character, fixed upon himthe appropriate nickname of Old Hurricane. 

There was, however, other ground of dislike besides that of his arrogantmind, violent temper and domineering habits. Old Hurricane was said tobe an old bachelor, yet rumor whispered that there was in some obscurepart of the world, hidden away from human sight, a deserted wife andchild, poor, forlorn and heart-broken. It was further whispered that theelder brother of Ira Warfield had mysteriously disappeared, and notwithout some suspicion of foul play on the part of the only person inthe world who had a strong interest in his "taking off. " However thesethings might be, it was known for a certainty that Old Hurricane had anonly sister, widowed, sick and poor, who, with her son, dragged on awretched life of ill-requited toil, severe privation and painfulinfirmity in a distant city, unaided, unsought and uncared for by hercruel brother. 

It was the night of the last day of October, eighteen hundred andforty-five. The evening had closed in very dark and gloomy. About duskthe wind arose in the northwest, driving up masses of leaden-huedclouds, and in a few minutes the ground was covered deep with snow andthe air was filled with driving sleet. 

As this was All Hallow Eve, the dreadful inclemency of the weather didnot prevent the negroes of Hurricane Hall from availing themselves oftheir capricious old master's permission and going off in a body to abanjo breakdown held in the negro quarters of their next neighbor. 

Upon this evening, then, there was left at Hurricane Hall only MajorWarfield, Mrs. Condiment, his little housekeeper, and Wool, his bodyservant. 

Early in the evening the old hall was shut up closely to keep out asmuch as possible the sound of the storm that roared through the mountainchasms and cannonaded the walls of the house as if determined to forcean entrance. As soon as she had seen that all was safe, Mrs. Condimentwent to bed and went to sleep. 

It was about ten o'clock that night that Old Hurricane, well wrapped upin his quilted flannel dressing-gown, sat in his well-padded easy-chairbefore a warm and bright fire, taking his comfort in his own mostcomfortable bedroom. This was the hour of the coziest enjoyment to theself-indulgent old Sybarite, who dearly loved his own ease. And, indeed, every means and appliance of bodily comfort was at hand. Strong oakenshutters and thick, heavy curtains at the windows kept out every draftof air, and so deadened the sound of the wind that its subdued moaningwas just sufficient to remind one of the stormy weather without incontrast to the bright warmth within. Old Hurricane, as I said, sat wellwrapped up in his wadded dressing-gown, and reclining in his paddedeasy-chair, with his head thrown back and his feet upon the fire irons, toasting his shins and sipping his punch. On his right stood a littletable 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 ofboiling water to help replenish the jug, if needful. 

On his left hand stood his cozy bedstead, with its warm crimson curtainsfestooned back, revealing the luxurious swell of the full feather bedand pillows, with their snow-white linen and lamb's-wool blankets, inviting repose. Between this bedstead and the corner of the fireplacestood Old Hurricane's ancient body servant Wool, engaged in warming acrimson cloth nightcap. 

"Fools!" muttered Old Hurricane, over his punch--"jacks! they'll all getthe 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 soon as I'm in bed, and that won't be long now, you may go--so that you get back in time towait on me to-morrow morning. "

"Thanky, marse. "

"Hold your tongue! You're as big a fool as the rest. "

"I take this, " said Old Hurricane, as he sipped his punch and smackedhis lips--"I take this to be the very quintessence of humanenjoyment--sitting here in my soft, warm chair before the fire, toastingmy legs, sipping my punch, listening on the one hand to the stormwithout and glancing on the other hand at my comfortable bed waitingthere to receive my sleepy head. If there is anything better than thisin this world I wish somebody would let me know it. "

"It's all werry comformable indeed, marse, " said the obsequious Wool. 

"I wonder, now, if there is anything on the face of the earth that wouldtempt me to leave my cozy fireside and go abroad to-night? I wonder howlarge a promise of pleasure or profit or glory it would take now?"

"Much as ebber Congress itse'f could give, if it give you a penance forall your sarvins, " suggested Wool. 

"Yes, and more; for I wouldn't leave my home comforts to-night to insurenot only the pension but the thanks of Congress!" said the old man, replenishing his glass with steaming punch and drinking it offleisurely. 

The clock struck eleven. The old man again replenished his glass, and, while sipping its contents, said:

"You may fill the warming-pan and warm my bed, Wool. The fumes of thisfragrant punch are beginning to rise to my head and make me sleepy. "

The servant filled the warming-pan with glowing embers, shut down thelid and thrust it between the sheets to warm the couch of this luxuriousOld Hurricane. The old man continued to toast his feet, sip his punchand smack his lips. He finished his glass, set it down, and was just inthe act of drawing on his woolen nightcap, preparatory to stepping intohis well-warmed bed when he was suddenly startled by a loud ringing ofthe hall-door bell. 

"What the foul fiend can that mean at this time of night?" exclaimedOld Hurricane, dropping his nightcap and turning sharply around towardWool, who, warming-pan in hand, stood staring with astonishment. "Whatdoes that mean, I ask you?"

"'Deed, I dunno, sar, less it's some benighted traveler in search o'shelter outen de storm!"

"Humph! and in search of supper, too, of course, and everybody gone awayor 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 ain't 'bliged to'sturb ourselves with answering of it!" suggested Wool. 

"'Sdeath, sir! Do you think that I am going to turn a deaf ear to astranger that comes to my house for shelter on such a night as this? Goand answer the bell directly. "

"Yes, sar. "

"But stop--look here, sirrah--mind I am not to be disturbed. If it is atraveler, 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, pleasethe Lord. Do you hear?"

"Yes, sar, " said the darkey, retreating. 

As Wool took a shaded taper and opened the door leading from hismaster's chamber, the wind was heard howling through the long passages, ready to burst into the cozy bedroom. 

"Shut that door, you scoundrel!" roared the old man, folding the skirtof his warm dressing-gown across his knees, and hovering closer to thefire. 

Wool quickly obeyed, and was heard retreating down the steps. 

"Whew!" said the old man, spreading his hands over the blaze with a lookof comfortable appreciation. "What would induce me to go abroad on sucha night as this? Wind blowing great guns from the northwest--snowfalling fast from the heavens and rising just as fast before the windfrom the ground--cold as Lapland, dark as Erebus! No telling the earthfrom the sky. Whew!" and to comfort the cold thought, Old Hurricanepoured 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 shouldthink some old woman had been taken with the pleurisy, and wanted me toget up and go out in the storm; to turn out of my warm bed to ride tenmiles through the snow to prescribe for her. A doctor never can feelsure, even in the worst of weathers, of a good night's rest. But, thankHeaven, I am free from all such annoyances, and if I am sure of anythingin this world it is of my comfortable night's sleep, " said OldHurricane, as he sipped his punch, smacked his lips and toasted hisfeet. 

At this moment Wool reappeared. 

"Shut the door, you villain! Do you intend to stand there holding itopen on me all night?" vociferated the old man. 

Wool hastily closed the offending portals and hurried to his master'sside. 

"Well, sir, who was it rung the bell?"

"Please, marster, sir, it wer' de Reverend Mr. Parson Goodwin. "

"Goodwin? Been to make a sick-call, I suppose, and got caught in thesnow-storm. I declare it is as bad to be a parson as it is to be adoctor. Thank the Lord I am not a parson, either; if I were, now, Imight be called away from my cozy armchair and fireside to ride twelvemiles to comfort some old man dying of quinsy. Well, here--help me intobed, pile on more comforters, tuck me up warm, put a bottle of hot waterat my feet, and then go and attend to the parson, " said the old man, getting up and moving toward his inviting couch. 

"Sar! sar! stop, sar, if you please!" cried Wool, going after him. 

"Why, what does the old fool mean?" exclaimed Old Hurricane, angrily. 

"Sar, de Reverend Mr. Parson Goodwin say how he must see you yourself, personable, alone!"

"See me, you villain! Didn't you tell him that I had retired?"

"Yes, marse; I tell him how you wer' gone to bed and asleep more'n anhour ago, and he ordered me to come wake you up, and say how it were amatter o' life and death!"

"Life and death? What have I to do with life and death? I won't stir! Ifthe parson wants to see me he will have to come up here and see me inbed, " exclaimed Old Hurricane, suiting the action to the word by jumpinginto bed and drawing all the comforters and blankets up around his headand shoulders. 

"Mus' I fetch him reverence up, sar?"

"Yes; I wouldn't get up and go down to see--Washington. Shut the door, you rascal, or I'll 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 returning, attending uponthe footsteps of another. And the next minute he entered, ushering inthe Rev. 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 thissevere change of weather, and took a warm negus and went to bed to sweatit off. You'll excuse me. Wool, draw that easy-chair up to my bedsidefor worthy Mr. Goodwin, and bring him a glass of warm negus. It will dohim good after his cold ride. "

"I thank you, Major Warfield. I will take the seat but not the negus, ifyou please, to-night. "

"Not the negus? Oh, come now, you are joking. Why, it will keep you fromcatching cold and be a most comfortable nightcap, disposing you to sleepand 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 thesnow driving like all Lapland!"

"Sir, I am sorry to refuse your proffered hospitality and leave yourcomfortable roof to-night, and sorrier still to have to take you withme, " said the pastor, gravely. 

"Take me with you! No, no, my good sir!--no, no, that is too good ajoke--ha! ha!"

"Sir, I fear that you will find it a very serious one. Your servant toldyou 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 womandying----"

"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 toprescribe----"

"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 you are recently appointed one of the justices of thepeace for Alleghany. "

"Yes. Well, what of that? That does not comprise the duty of getting upout of my warm bed and going through a snow-storm to see an old womanexpire. "

"I regret to inconvenience you, sir; but in this instance your dutydemands your attendance at the bedside of this dying woman----"

"I tell you I can't go, and I won't! Anything in reason I'll do. Anything I can send she shall have. Here, Wool, look in my breechespocket and take out my purse and hand it. And then go and wake up Mrs. Condiment, and ask her to fill a large basket full of everything a poorold 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 exposingmyself to a snow-storm this time of night!"

"Excuse me for insisting, sir; but this is an official duty, " said theparson mildly but firmly. 

"I'll--I'll throw up my commission to-morrow, " growled the old man. 

"To-morrow you may do that; but meanwhile, to-night, being still in thecommission of the peace, you are bound to get up and go with me to thiswoman'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 todraw on his nether garments. 

"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'smule in the stable for the night. And tell him to put the black draughthorses to the close carriage, and light both of the front lanterns--forwe shall have a dark, stormy road----Shut the door, you infernal----Ibeg your pardon, parson, but that villain always leaves the door ajarafter him. "

The good pastor bowed gravely, and the major completed his toilet by thetime the servant returned and reported the carriage ready. 

It was dark as pitch when they emerged from the hall door out into thefront portico, before which nothing could be seen but two redbull's-eyes of the carriage lanterns, and nothing heard but thedissatisfied 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 hefollowed the minister into the carriage. "And now, sir, " he continued, addressing his companion, "I think you had better repeat that part ofthe church litany that prays to be delivered from 'battle, murder andsudden death, ' for if we should be so lucky as to escape Black Donaldand his gang, we shall have at least an equal chance of being upset inthe darkness of these dreadful mountains. "

"A pair of saddle mules would have been a safer conveyance, certainly, "said the minister. 

Old Hurricane knew that, but, though a great sensualist, he was a braveman, and so he had rather risk his life in a close carriage than suffercold upon a sure-footed mule's back. 

Only by previous knowledge of the route could any one have told the waythe carriage went. Old Hurricane and the minister both knew that theydrove, lumbering, over the rough road leading by serpentine windingsdown that rugged fall of ground to the river's bank, and that then, turning to the left by a short bend, they passed in behind that range ofhorseshoe rocks that sheltered Hurricane Hall--thus, as it were doublingtheir own road. Beneath that range of rocks, and between it and anotherrange, there was an awful abyss or chasm of cleft, torn and jagged rocksopening, as it were, from the bowels of the earth, in the shape of amammoth bowl, in the bottom of which, almost invisible from its greatdepth, seethed and boiled a mass of dark water of what seemed to be alost river or a subterranean spring. This terrific phenomenon was calledthe Devil's Punch Bowl. 

Not far from the brink of this awful abyss, and close behind thehorseshoe range of rocks, stood a humble log-cabin, occupied by an oldfree negress, who picked up a scanty living by telling fortunes andshowing the way to the Punch Bowl. Her cabin went by the name of theWitch's Hut, or Old Hat's Cabin. A short distance from Hat's cabin theroad became impassable, and the travelers got out, and, preceded by thecoachman bearing the lantern, struggled along on foot through thedrifted snow and against the buffeting wind and sleet to where a faintlight guided them to the house. 

The pastor knocked. The door was immediately opened by a negro, whosesex from the strange anomalous costume it was difficult to guess. Thetall form was rigged out first in a long, red, cloth petticoat, abovewhich was buttoned a blue cloth surtout. A man's old black beaver hatsat upon the strange head and completed this odd attire. 

"Well, Hat, how is your patient?" inquired the pastor, as he enteredpreceding the magistrate. 

"You will see, sir, " replied the old woman. 

The two visitors looked around the dimly-lighted, miserable room, in onecorner of which stood a low bed, upon which lay extended the form of anold, feeble and gray-haired woman. 

"How are you, my poor soul, and what can I do for you now I am here?"inquired Old Hurricane, who in the actual presence of suffering was notutterly 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 theminister. 

"Will it be legal--will it be evidence in a court of law?" asked thewoman, lifting her dim eyes to the major. 

"Certainly, my poor soul--certainly, " said the latter, who, by the way, would have said anything to soothe her. 

"Send every one but yourself from the room. "

"What, my good soul, send the parson out in the storm? That will neverdo! Won't it be just as well to let him go up in the corner yonder?"

"No! You 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 yoube so good as to retire?"

"There is a fire in the woodshed, master, " said Hat, leading the way. 

"Now, 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 miniature copy of theScriptures, and with the usual formalities administered the oath. 

"Now, then, my good soul, begin--'the truth, the whole truth, andnothing but the truth, ' you know. But first, your name?"

"Is it possible you don't know me, master?"

"Not I, in faith. "

"For the love of heaven, look at me, and try to recollect me, sir! It isnecessary some one in authority should be able to know me, " said thewoman, raising her haggard eyes to the face of her visitor. 

The old man adjusted his spectacles and gave her a scrutinizing look, exclaiming at intervals:

"Lord bless my soul, it is! it ain't! it must! it can't be! GrannyGrewell, the--the--the--midwife that disappeared from here some twelveor thirteen years ago!"

"Yes, master, I am Nancy Grewell, the ladies' nurse, who vanished fromsight 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 indoing 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 thereparation that you can by a full confession!"

"I know it, sir--if I had committed a crime; but I have committed nocrime; neither did I run away. "

"What? what? what? What was it, then? Remember, witness, you are on youroath. "

"I know that, sir, and I will tell the truth; but it must be in my ownway. "

At this moment a violent blast of wind and hail roared down the mountainside and rattled against the walls, shaking the witch's hut, as if itwould 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 raved past and was hearddying in deep, reverberating echoes from the depths of the Devil's PunchBowl. 

"It is some thirteen years ago, " began Granny Grewell, "upon just such anight of storm as this, that I was mounted on my old mule Molly, with mysaddlebags full of dried yarbs and 'stilled waters and sich, as I alluscarried when I was out 'tendin' on the sick. I was on my way a-going tosee a lady as I was sent for to 'tend. 

"Well, master, I'm not 'shamed to say, as I never was afraid of man, beast, nor sperrit, and never stopped at going out all hours of thenight, through the most lonesome roads, if so be I was called upon to doso. Still I must say that jest as me and Molly, my mule, got into thatdeep, thick, lonesome woods as stands round the old Hidden House in thehollow I did feel queerish; 'case it was the dead hour of the night, andit was said how strange things were seen and hearn, yes, and done, too, in that dark, deep, lonesome place! I seen how even my mule Molly feltqueer, 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 afeared on? Be a man, Molly!' But Mollystepped 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 getalong; and just as we came to the little creek, as they calls the Spout, 'cause the water jumps and jets along it till it empties into the PunchBowl, and just as Molly was cautiously putting her fore foot into thewater, out starts two men from the bushes and seized poor Molly'sbridle!"

"Good Heaven!" exclaimed Major Warfield. 

"Well, master, before I could cry out, one of them willains seized me bythe 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!'

"And then, master, I saw for the first time that their faces werecovered over with black crape. I couldn't a-screamed if they'd let me!for my breath was gone and my senses were going along with it from thefear that was on me. 

"'Don't struggle; come along quietly, and you shall not be hurt, ' saysthe man as had spoke before. 

"Struggle! I couldn't a-struggled 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:

"'Give her some brandy!' And t'other takes out a flask and puts it to mylips and says, says he:

"'Here, drink this. '

"Well, master, as he had me still by the scruff o' my neck I couldn't dono other ways but open my mouth and drink it. And as soon as I took aswallow my breath came back and my speech. 

"'And oh, gentlemen, ' says I, 'ef it's "your money or your life" youmean, I hain't it about me! 'Deed, 'clare to the Lord-a-mighty, Ihain't! It's wrapped up in an old cotton glove in a hole in theplastering in the chimney corner at home, and ef you'll spare my lifeyou can go there and get it, ' says I. 

"'You old blockhead!' says they, 'we want neither one nor t'other! Comealong quietly and you shall receive no harm. But at the first cry, orattempt to escape--this shall stop you!" And with that the willain heldthe mizzle of a pistil so nigh to my nose that I smelt brimstone, whilet'other one bound a silk hankercher round my eyes, and then took poorMolly's bridle and led her along. I couldn't see, in course, and Idassint breathe for fear o' the pistil. But I said my prayers to myselfall the time. 

"Well, master, they led the mule on down the path until we comed to aplace wide enough to turn, when they turned us round and led us backouten the wood, and then 'round and round, and up and down, andcrossways and lengthways, as ef they didn't want me to find where theywere taking me. 

"Well, sir, when they'd walked about in this 'fused way, leadin' of themule about a mile, I knew we was in the woods again--the very same woodsand the very same path--I, knowed by the feel of the place and the soundof the bushes as we hit up against them each side, and also by therumbling of the Spout as it rumbled along toward the Punch Bowl. We wentdown and down and down, and lower and lower and lower until we got rightdown in the bottom of that hollow. 

"Then we stopped. A gate was opened. I put up my hand to raise thehankerchief and see where I was; but just at that minute I felt themizzle o' the pistol like a ring of ice right agin my temple, and thewillain growling into my ear:

"'If you do----!'

"But I didn't--I dropped my hand down as if I had been shot, and afore Ihad seen anything, either. So we went through the gate and up a gravellywalk--I knew it by the crackling of the gravel under Molly's feet--andstopped at a horse-block, where one o' them willains lifted me off. Iput up my hand agin. 

"'Do if you dare!' says t'other one, with the mizzle o' the pistol at myhead. 

"I dropped my hand like lead. So they led me on a little way, and thenup some steps. I counted them to myself as I went along. They were six. You see, master, I took all this pains to know the house agin. Then theyopened a door that opened in the middle. Then they went along a passageand up more stairs--there was ten and a turn, and then ten more. Thenalong another passage, and up another flight of stairs just like thefirst. Then along another passage and up a third flight of stairs. Theywas alike. 

"Well, sir, here we was at the top o' the house. One o' them willainsopened a door on the left side, and t'other said:

"'There--go in and do your duty!' and pushed me through the door andshut and locked it on me. Good gracious, sir, how scared I was! Islipped off the silk handkercher, and, 'feared as I was, I didn't forgetto put it in my bosom. 

"Then I looked about me. Right afore me on the hearth was a little weenytaper burning, that showed I was in a great big garret with slopingwalls. At one end two deep dormer windows and a black walnut bureaustanding between them. At t'other end a great tester bedstead with darkcurtains. There was a dark carpet on the floor. And with all there wereso many dark objects and so many shadows, and the little taper burned sodimly that I could hardly tell t'other from which, or keep from breakingmy nose against things as I groped about. 

"And what was I 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 thecurtains! then another! and another! then a cry as of some child inmortal agony, saying:

"'For the love of Heaven, save me!'

"I ran to the bed and dropped the curtains and liked to have fainted atwhat I saw!"

"And what did you see?" asked the magistrate. 

"Master, behind those dark curtains I saw a young creature tossing abouton the bed, flinging her hair and beautiful arms about and tearingwildly at the fine lace that trimmed her night-dress. But, master, thatwasn't what almost made me faint--it was that her right hand was sewedup in black crape, and her whole face and head completely covered withblack crape drawn down and fastened securely around her throat, leavingonly a small slit at the lips and nose to breathe through!"

"What! Take care, woman! Remember that you are upon your oath!" said themagistrate. 

"I know it, master. And as I hope to be forgiven, I am telling you thetruth!"

"Go on, then. "

"Well, sir, she was a young creature, scarcely past childhood, if onemight judge by her small size and soft, rosy skin. I asked her to let metake that black crape from her face and head, but she threw up her handsand exclaimed:

"'Oh, no; no, no! for my life, no!'

"Well, master, I hardly know how to tell you what followed, " said theold woman, hesitating in embarrassment. 

"Go right straight on like a car of Juggernaut, woman! Remember--thewhole truth!"

"Well, master, in the next two hours there were twins born in thatroom--a boy and a girl; the boy was dead, the girl living. And all thetime I heard the measured tramping of one of them willains up and downthe passage outside of that room. Presently the steps stopped, and therewas 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. Therewas the poor, masked mother stretching out her white arms toward me inthe most imploring way. I hastened back to her. 

"'Tell him--no--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. Shebeckoned me to come close, and whispered:

"'Save my child! The living one, I mean! Hide her! oh, hide her fromhim! When he demands the babe, give him the poor little dead one--hecannot hurt that! And he will not know there was another. Oh! hide andsave my child!'

"Master, I was used to queer doings, but this was a little the queerest. But if I was to conceal that second child in order to save it, it wasnecessary to stop its mouth, for it was squalling like a wild cat. So Itook a vial of paregoric from my pocket and give it a drop and it wentoff to sleep like an angel. I wrapped it up warm and lay it along withmy 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 tearsupon its little cold face. And I carried it to the man outside. 

"'Is it asleep?' the willain asked me. 

"'Yes, master, ' said I as I put it, well wrapped up, in his arms; 'verysound aslep. '

"'So much the better, ' said the knave, walking away. 

"I bolted the door and went back to my patient. With her free hand sheseized mine and pressed it to her lips and then, holding up her lefthand, pointed to the wedding ring upon her third finger. 

"'Draw it off and keep it, ' she said; 'conceal the child under yourshawl and take her with you when you go! Save her and your fortune shallbe made. '

"I declare, master, I hadn't time to think, before I heard one of themwretches rap at the door. 

"'Come! Get ready to go, ' he said. 

"She also beckoned me. I hastened to her. With eager whispers andimploring 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!'

"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 silkhandkercher, opened the large part of it like a hammock and laid thelittle sleeping babe there. Then I folded my big shawl around my breastand nobody any the wiser. The rapping was very impatient. 

"'I am coming, ' said I. 

"'Remember!' whispered the poor girl. 

"'I will, ' said I, and went out and opened the door. There stood t'otherwillain with his head covered with black crape. I dreamt of nothing butblack-headed demons for six months afterward. 

"'Are you ready?' says he. 

"'Yes, your worship, ' says I. 

"'Come along, then. '

"And, binding another silk hankercher round my eyes, he led me along. 

"Instead of my mule, a carriage stood near the horse-block. 

"'Get in, ' says he, holding the pistil to my ears by way of an argument. 

"I got in. He jumped up upon the driver's seat and we drove like thewind. In another direction from that in which we come, in course, forthere was no carriage road there. The carriage whirled along at such arate it made me quite giddy. At last it stopped again. The man in themask got down and opened the door. 

"'Where are you taking me?' says I. 

"'Be quiet, ' says he, 'or'----And with that he put the pistil to mycheek, ordered me to get out, take the bandage from my eyes and walkbefore him. I did so and saw dimly that we were in a part of the countrythat I was never at before. We were in a dark road through a thickforest. On the left side of the road in a clearing stood an old house; adim light was burning in a lower window. 

"'Go on in there, ' said the willain, putting the pistil to the back ofmy 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 andmade me go into a dark room. Just then the unfortunate child that hadbeen moving restlessly began to wail. Well it might, poor, starvedthing!

"'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 thepoor little wretch raised a squall. 

"'What is the meaning of this? 'says he. 'Where did that child comefrom? Why the demon don't you speak?' And with that he seized me againby the scruff of the neck and shook me. 

"'Oh, master, for the love of Heaven don't!' says I. 'This is only apoor unfortnet infant as its parents wanted to get outen the way, andhired me to take care on. And I have had it wrapped up under my shawlall the time 'cept when I was in your house, when I put it to sleep inthe corner. '

"'Humph--and you had that child concealed under your shawl when I firststopped you in the woods?'

"'In course, master, ' says I. 

"'Whose is it?'

"'Master, ' says I, 'it's--it's a dead secret!' for I hadn't another lieready. 

"He broke out into a rude, scornful laugh, and seemed not half tobelieve me and yet not to care about questioning me too closely. He mademe sit down then in the dark, and went out and turned the key on me. Iwet my finger with the paregoric and put it to the baby's lips to quietits pains of hunger. Then I heard a whispering in the next room. Now myeyesight never was good, but to make up for it I believe I had thesharpest ears that ever was, and I don't think anybody could have heardthat whispering but me. I saw a little glimmer of light through thechinks that showed me where the door was, and so I creeped up to it andput my ear to the key-hole. Still they whispered so low that no earscould o' heard them but my sharp ones. The first words I heard good wasa grumbling voice asking:

"'How old?'

"'Fifty--more or less, but strong, active, a good nurse and a very lightmulatto, ' says my willain's voice. 

"'Hum--too old, ' says the other. 

"'But I will throw the child in. '

"A low, crackling laugh the only answer. 

"'You mean that would be only a bother. Well, I want to get rid of thepair of them, ' said my willain, 'so name the price you are willing togive. '

"'Cap'n, you and me have had too many transactions together to make anyflummery about this. You want to get shet o' them pair. I hain't noobjections to turning an honest penny. So jest make out the papers--billo' 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 I'llengage to take her away and make the most I can of them in theSouth--that won't be much, seeing it's only an old 'oman andchild--scarcely a fair profit on the expense o' takin' of her out. Now, as money's no object to you, Cap'n----'

"'Very well; have your own way; only don't let that woman escape andreturn, for if you do----'

"'I understand, Cap'n; but I reckon you needn't threaten, for if youcould 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 willainsmoved out of even my hearing. 

"' I should o' been uneasy, master, if it hadn't been the 'oman theywere talking about was named Kate, and that wasn't my name, which werewell beknown to be Nancy. '

"Presently I heard the carriage drive away. And almost 'mediately afterthe door was unlocked, and a great, big, black-bearded and black-headedbeast of a ruffian came in, and says he:

"'Well, my woman, have you had any supper?'

"'No, ' said I, 'I hain't; and ef I'm to stay here any length of time I'dbe obleeged to you to let me have some hot water and milk to make papfor this perishing baby. '

"'Follow me, ' says he. 

"And he took me into the kitchen at the back of the house, where therewas a fire in the fireplace and a cupboard 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, forit was now near the dawn of day. Well, sir, I thought I would try to getout and look about myself to see what the neighborhood looked like bydaylight, but when I tried the door I found myself locked up a closeprisoner. I looked out of the window and saw nothing but a little backyard, closed in by the woods. I tried to raise the sash, but it wasnailed 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-'ventedof going about her own business?' says I. 

"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 looking hag of awoman came in and began to get breakfast. 

"'What am I kept here for?' says I to her. 

"But she took no notice at all; nor could I get so much as a single wordouten her. In fact, master, the little 'oman was deaf an' dumb. 

"Well, sir, to be short, I was kept in that place all day long, and whennight come I was druv into a shay at the point of the pistil, andrattled along as fast as the horses could gallop over a road as I knewnothing of. We changed horses wunst or twict, and just about the dawn ofday we come to a broad river with a vessel laying to, not far from theshore. 

"As soon as the shay druv down on the sands, the willain as had run awaywith me puts a pipe to his willainous mouth and blows like mad. Somebodyelse blowed back from the wessel. Then a boat was put off and rowedashore. I was forced to get into it, and was follered by the willain. Wewas rowed to the wessel, and I was druv up the ladder on to the decks. And there, master, right afore my own looking eyes, me and the baby wastraded off to the captain! It was no use for me to 'splain or'spostulate. I wasn't b'lieved. The willain as had stole me got backinto the boat and went ashore, and I saw him get into the shay and driveaway. It was no use for me to howl and cry, though I did both, for Icouldn't even hear myself for the swearing of the captain and the noiseof the crew, as they was a gettin' of the wessel under way. Well, sir, we sailed down that river and out to sea. 

"Now, sir, come a strange providence, which the very thoughts of itmight convert a heathen! We had been to sea about five days when adreadful storm riz. Oh, marster! the inky blackness of the sky, theroaring of the wind, the raging of the sea, the leaping of the waves andthe rocking of that wessel--and every once in a while sea and ship allablaze with the blinding lightning--was a thing to see, not to hear tellof! I tell you, marster, that looked like the wrath of God! And then thecursing and swearing and bawling of the captain and the crew, as theywere a-takin' in of sail, was enough to raise one's hair on their head!I hugged the baby to my breast, and went to praying as hard as ever Icould pray. 

"Presently I felt an awful shock, as if heaven an' earth had cometogether, and then everybody screaming, 'She's struck! She's struck!' Ifelt the wessel trembling like a live creetur, and the water a-pouringin everywhere. I hugged the babe and scrambled up the companionway tothe deck. It was pitch dark, and I heard every man rushing toward oneside of the wessel. 

"A flash of lightning that made everything as bright as day again showedme that they were all taking to the boat. I rushed after, calling tothem to save me and the baby. But no one seemed to hear me; they wereall 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, thatthe boat would be swamped, and so on. The end was, that all who couldcrowd into the boat did so. And me and the baby and a poor sailor ladand the black cook were left behind to perish. 

"But, marster, as it turned out, we as was left to die were the onlyones saved. We watched after that boat with longing eyes, though wecould only see it when the lightning flashed. And every time we saw itit was farther off. At last, marster, a flash of lightning showed us theboat as far off as ever we could see her, capsized and beaten hither andthither by the wild waves--its crew had perished. 

"Marster, as soon as the sea had swallowed up that wicked captain andcrew the wind died away, the waves fell and the storm lulled--just as ifit had done what it was sent to do and was satisfied. The wreck--wherewe poor forlorn ones stood--the wreck that had shivered and trembledwith every wave that struck it, --until we had feared it would break upevery minute, became still and firm on its sand-bar, as a house on dryland. 

"Daylight came at last. And a little after sunrise we saw a sail bearingdown upon us. We could not signal the sail, but by the mercy ofProvidence, she saw us and lay to, and sent off a boat and picked us upand 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 tous--dried our clothes and gave us breakfast and made us lie down andrest, and then put about and continued their course. The sailorlad--Herbert Greyson--soon found out and told me they were bound for NewYork. And, in fact, marster, in about ten days we made that port. 

"When the ship anchored below the Battery, the officers and passengersmade me up a little bundle of clothes and a little purse of money andput me ashore, and there I was in a strange city, so bewildered I didn'tknow which way to turn. While I was a-standing there, in danger of beingrun over by the omnibuses, the sailor boy came to my side and told methat he and the cook was gwine to engage on board of another 'Mericanwessel, and axed me what I was gwine to do. I told him how I didn't knownothing at all 'bout sea sarvice, and so I didn't know what I should do. Then he said he'd show me where I could go and stay all night, and so hetook me into a little by-street, to a poor-looking house, where thepeople took lodgers, and there he left me to go aboard the ship. As hewent away he advised me to take care of my money and try to get aservant's place. 

"Well, marster, I ain't a gwine to bother you with telling you of how Itoiled and struggled along in that great city--first living out as aservant, and afterward renting a room and taking in washing andironing--ay! how I toiled and struggled--for--ten--long--years, hopingfor the time to come when I should be able to return to thisneighborhood, where I was known, and expose the evil deeds of themwillains. And for this cause I lived on, toiling and struggling andlaying up money penny by penny. Sometimes I was fool enough to tell mystory in the hopes of getting pity and help--but telling my story alwaysmade it worse for me! some thought me crazy and others thought medeceitful, which is not to be wondered at, for I was a stranger and myadventures were, indeed, beyond belief. 

"No one ever helped me but the lad Herbert Greyson. W'enver he came fromsea he sought me out and made a little present to me or Cap. 

"Cap, marster, was Capitola, the child. The reason I gave her that namewas because on that ring I had drawn from the masked mother's hand werethe two names--Eugene--Capitola. 

"Well, marster, the last time Herbert Greyson came home he gave me fivedollars, and that, with what I had saved, was enough to pay my passageto Norfolk. 

"I left my little Cap in the care of the people of the house--she wasbig 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 takento the poor-house. Six months passed away before I was discharged, andthen six months more before I had earned and saved money enough to paymy way on here. 

"I reached here three days ago and found a wheat field growing where mycottage fire used to burn, and all my old cronies dead, all except OldHat, who has received and given me shelter. Sir, my story is done--makewhat you can of it, " said the invalid, sinking down in her bed as ifutterly exhausted. 

Old Hurricane, whose countenance had expressed emotions as powerful asthey were various while listening to this tale, now arose, steppedcautiously to the door, drew the bolt, and, coming back, bent his headand asked:

"What more of the child?"

"Cap, sir? I have not heard a word of Cap since I left her to try tofind out her friends. But any one interested in her might inquire forher at Mrs. Simmons', laundress, No. 8 Rag Alley. "

"You say the names upon that ring were Eugene--Capitola?"

"Yes, sir, they were. "

"Have you that ring about you?"

"No, marster. I thought it was best in case of accidents to leave itwith the child. "

"Have you told her any part of this strange history?"

"No, marster, nor hinted at it; she was too young for such aconfidence. "

"You were right. Had she any mark about her person by which she could beidentified?"

"Yes, marster, a very strange one. In the middle of her left palm wasthe perfect image of a crimson hand, about half an inch in length. Therewas also another. Henry Greyson, to please me, marked upon her forearm, in India ink, her name and birthday--'Capitola, Oct. 31st, 1832. '"

"Right! Now tell me, my good soul, do you know, from what you were ableto observe, what house that was where Capitola was born?"

"I am on my oath! No, sir; I do not know, but----"

"You suspect?"

The woman nodded. 

"It was----" said old Hurricane, stooping and whispering a name that washeard 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 anything of thisstory?" inquired Major Warfield. 

"Not a word! No soul but yourself has heard it!"

"That is right! Still be discreet! If you would have the wicked punishedand the innocent protected, be silent and wary. Have no anxiety aboutthe girl. What man can do for her will I do and quickly! And now, goodcreature, day is actually dawning. You must seek repose. And I must callthe parson in and return home. I will send Mrs. Condiment over withfood, wine, medicine, clothing and every comfort that your conditionrequires, " said Old Hurricane, rising and calling in the clergyman, withwhom he soon after left the hut for home. 

They reached Hurricane Hall in time for an early breakfast, which theastonished housekeeper had prepared, and for which their night'sadventures had certainly given them a good appetite. 

Major Warfield kept his word, and as soon as breakfast was over hedispatched Mrs. Condiment with a carriage filled with provisions for thesick woman. But they were not needed. In a couple of hours thehousekeeper returned with the intelligence that the old nurse was dead. The false strength of mental excitement that had enabled her to tell solong and dreadful a tale had been the last flaring up of the flame oflife that almost immediately went out. 

"I am not sorry, upon the whole, for now I shall have the game in my ownhands!" muttered Old Hurricane to himself. "Ah! Gabrielle Le Noir, better you had cast yourself down from the highest rock of this rangeand been dashed to pieces below, than have thus fallen into my power!"

CHAPTER III. 

THE QUEST. 

 Then did Sir Knight abandon dwelling And out he rode. --Hudibras. 

Pursuant to the orders of Major Warfield, the corpse of the old midwifewas the next day after her decease brought over and quietly interred inthe family graveyard of Hurricane Hall. 

And then Major Warfield astonished his household by giving orders to hishousekeeper and his body-servant to prepare his wardrobe and pack histrunks for a long journey to the north. 

"What can the major be thinking of, to be setting out for the north atthis time of the year?" exclaimed good little Mrs. Condiment, as shepicked over her employer's shirts, selecting the newest and warmest tobe done up for the occasion. 

"Lord A'mighty o'ny knows; but 'pears to me marster's never been rightin his headpiece since Hollow-eve night, when he took that ride to theWitch's Hut, " replied Wool, who, with brush and sponge, was engaged inrejuvenating his master's outer garments. 

But, let his family wonder as they would, Old Hurricane kept his owncounsel--only just as he was going away, lest mystery should lead toinvestigation, and that to discovery, the old man gave out that he wasgoing 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 littlehamlet on the mountain at which he was to meet the eastern stage; butthere having seen his master comfortably deposited in the inside of thecoach, and the luggage safely stowed in the boot, Wool was ordered toreturn with the carriage. And Major Warfield proceeded on his journeyalone. This also caused much speculation in the family. 

"Who's gwine to make his punch and warm his bed and put his slippers onthe hearth and hang his gown to de fire?--that what I 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 knownuffin' 'bout him! I 'clare, I think our ole marse done gone cleancrazy! I shouldn't be s'prised he'd gone off to de norf to get married, and was to bring home a young wife to we dem!"

"Tut! tut! tut! such talk! That will never do!" exclaimed the deeplyshocked Mrs. Condiment. 

"Werry well! All I say is, 'Dem as libs longest will see most!'" saidWool, shaking his white head. After which undeniable apothegm theconversation came to a stand. 

Meanwhile, Old Hurricane pursued his journey--a lumbering, old-fashionedstage-coach ride--across the mountains, creeping at a snail's crawl upone side of the precipice and clattering thunderously down the other ata headlong speed that pitched the back-seat passengers into the bosomsof the front ones and threatened even to cast the coach over the headsof the horses. Three days and nights of such rugged riding brought thetraveler to Washington City, where he rested one night and then took thecars for New York. He rested another night in Philadelphia, resumed hisjourney by the first train in the morning and reached New York aboutnoon. 

The crowd, the noise, the hurry and confusion at the wharf almost drovethis irascible old gentleman mad. 

"No, confound you!"

"I'll see your neck stretched first, you villain!"

"Out of my way, or I'll break your head, sirrah!" were some of hisresponses to the solicitous attentions of cabmen and porters. At length, taking up his heavy carpet-bag in both hands, Old Hurricane began to layabout him, with such effect that he speedily cleared a passage forhimself through the crowd. Then addressing a cabman who had not offendedby speaking first, he said:

"Here, sir! Here are my checks! Go get my luggage and take it to theAstor 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, harkye! If one of my trunks is missing I'll have you hanged, you rogue!"

"Breach of trust isn't a hanging matter in New York, your honor, "laughed the cabman, as he touched his hat and hurried off toward thecrowd collected around the baggage car. 

Old Hurricane made a step or two as if he would have pursued andpunished the flippancy of the man, but finally thought better of it, picked up his portmanteau and walked up the street slowly, with frequentpauses and bewildered looks, as though he had forgotten his directionsor lost his way, and yet hesitated to inquire of any one for the obscurelittle alley in which he had been told to look for his treasure. 

CHAPTER IV. 

CAPITOLA. 

 Her sex a page's dress belied, Obscured her charms but could not hide. --Scott. 

"Please, sir, do you want your carpet-bag carried?" asked a voice near. 

Old Hurricane looked around him with a puzzled air, for he thought thata young girl had made this offer, so soft and clear were the notes ofthe voice that spoke. 

"It was I, sir! Here I am, at yours and everybody's service, sir!" saidthe same voice. 

And turning, Old Hurricane saw sitting astride a pile of boxes at thecorner store, a very ragged lad some thirteen years of age. 

"Good gracious!" thought Old Hurricane, as he gazed upon the boy, "thismust be crown prince and heir apparent to the 'king of shreds andpatches!'"

"Well, old gent! you'll know me next time, that's certain, " said thelad, returning the look with interest. 

It is probable Old Hurricane did not hear this irreverent speech, for hecontinued to gaze with pity and dismay upon the ragamuffin before him. He was a handsome boy, too, notwithstanding the deplorable state of hiswardrobe. Thick, clustering curls of jet-black hair fell in tangleddisorder around a forehead broad, white and smooth as that of a girl;slender and quaintly arched black eyebrows played above a pair ofmischievous, dark-gray eyes that sparkled beneath the shade of long, thick, black lashes; a little turned-up nose, and red, pouting lipscompleted the character of a countenance full of fun, frolic, spirit andcourage. 

"Well, governor, if you've looked long enough, maybe you'll take me intoservice, " said the lad, winking to a group of his fellow-newsboys thathad gathered at the corner. 

"Dear! dear! dear! he looks as if he had never in his life seen soap andwater or a suit of whole clothes!" ejaculated the old gentleman, adding, kindly: "Yes, I reckon I will give you the job, my son!"

"His son! Oh, crikey! do you hear that, fellows? His son? Oh, Lor'! mygovernor's turned up at last. I'm his son! oh, gemini! But what did Itell you! I always had a sort of impression that I must have had afather in some former period of my life; and, behold, here he is! Whoknows 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 newsboy, jumping offthe boxes and taking the carpet-bag in his hand. 

"What are you talking about, you infatuated tatterdemalion? Come along!If it weren't for pity I'd have you put in the pillory!" exclaimed OldHurricane, shaking his cane at the offender. 

"Thanky, sir! I've not had a pillow under my head for a long time. "

"Silence, ragamuffin!"

"Just so, sir! 'a dumb devil is better than a talking one!'" answeredthe lad, demurely following his employer. 

They went on some distance, Old Hurricane diligently reading the namesof the streets at the corners. Presently he stopped again, bewildered, and after gazing around himself for a few minutes, said:

"Boy!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Do you know such a place as Rag Alley in Manillo Street?"

"Rag 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 uptogether, fifty in a house, eh? I was told I couldn't drive up it in acarriage, so I had to walk. Do you know such a place?"

"Do I know such a place! Do I know Rag Alley? Oh, my eye! Oh, he! he!he! he!"

"What are you laughing at now, you miscellaneous assortment ofvariegated pieces?"

"Oh! oh, dear! I was laughing to think how well I knew Rag 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 the gutter by someold woman in the rag-picking line!" said the newsboy, demurely. 

"Humph. I think that quite likely! But now, do you say that you knowwhere that alley is?"

"Oh, don't set me off again! Oh, he! he! he! Yes, sir, I know. "

"Well, then, show me the way and don't be a fool!"

"I'd scorn to be it, sir. This is the way!" said the lad, taking thelead. 

They walked on several squares, and then the boy stopped, and pointingdown a cross-street, said:

"There, governor; there you are. "

"There! Where? Why that's a handsome street!" said Old Hurricane, gazingup in admiration at the opposite blocks of stately brown-stone mansions. 

"That's it, hows'ever! That's Rag Alley. 'Tain't called Rag Alley now, though! It's called Hifalutin Terrace! Them tenements you talk of werepulled 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 improvement. 

"The tenants? poor wretches! how do I know? Carted away, blown away, thrown away, with the other rubbish. What became of the tenants?

 "'Ask of the winds that far around With fragments strewed the sea-ty!'

I heard that spouted at a school exhibition once, governor!" said thelad, demurely. 

"Humph! well, well well! the trace is lost! What shall I do?--putadvertisements in all the daily papers--apply at the chief policeoffice? Yes, I'll do both, " muttered Old Hurricane to himself; then, speaking out, he called:

"Boy!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Call me a cab!"

"Yes, sir!" And the lad was off like an arrow to do his bidding. 

In a few moments the cab drove up. The newsboy, who was sitting besidethe driver, jumped down and said:

"Here it is, sir!"

"Thank you, my son; here is your fee, " said Old Hurricane, putting asilver dollar into the lad's hand. 

"What! Lor', it can't be I but it is! He must have made a mistake! Whatif he did, I don't care! Yes, I do, too! 'Honor bright!'" exclaimed thenewsboy, looking in wonder and desire and sore temptation upon thelargest piece of money he had ever touched in his life. "Governor!"

"Well, boy?" said the old gentleman, with his feet upon the steps of thecab. 

"You've been and done and gone and give me a whole dollar by mistake!"

"And why should you think it a mistake, you impertinent monkey?"

"Your honor didn't mean it?"

"Why not, you young rascal? Of course I did. Take it and be off withyou!" said Old Hurricane, beginning to ascend the steps. 

"I'm a great mind to, " said the newsboy, still gazing on the coin withsatisfaction and desire--"I'm a great mind to; but I won't! 'tain'tfair! Governor, I say!"

"What now, you troublesome fellow?"

"Do stop a minute! Don't tempt me too hard, 'cause, you see, I ain'tsure 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 Imus'n't impose upon your ignorance. "

"My ignorance, you impudent villain!" exclaimed the old man, with risingwrath. 

"Yes, governor; you hain't cut your eye-teeth yet! you hain't up tosnuff! you don't know nothing! Why, this is too much for toting acarpet-bag a half a dozen squares; and it's very well you fell in with ahonest lad like me, that wouldn't impose on your innocence. Bless you, the usual price isn't more'n a dime, or, if you're rich and generous, ashillin'; but----"

"What the deuce do I care for the usual price, you--you--you perfectprodigy of patches? There, for the Lord's sake, go get yourself a decentsuit of clothes! Drive on, cabman!" roared Old Hurricane, flinging aneagle upon the sidewalk and rolling off in his cab. 

"Poor dear, old gentleman! I wonder where his keeper is? How could hehave got loose? Maybe I'd better go and tell the police! But then Idon't know who he is, or where he's gone! But he is very crazy, and I'mafraid he'll fling away every cent of his money before his friends cancatch him. I know what I'll do. I'll go to the stand and watch for thecab to come back and ask the driver what he has done with the poor, dearold fellow!" said the newsboy, picking up the gold coin and putting itinto his pocket. And then he started, but with an eye to business, singing out:

"Herald! Triebune! Express! last account of the orfulaccident--steamer, " etc. , etc. , etc. , selling his papers as he went onto the cab-stand. He found the cabman already there. And to his anxiousinquiries 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--areal Virginian, F. F. V. , with money like the sands on the seashore!Keep the tin, lad; he knowed what he was a-doin' on. "

"Oh, it a'most scares me to have so much money!" exclaimed the boy, halfin delight, half in dismay; "but to-night I'll have a warm supper andsleep in a bed once more! And to-morrow a new suit of clothes! So heregoes--Herald! Express!--full account--the horrible murder--BellStreet--Ledgee-ee-ee, " etc. , etc. , etc. , crying his papers until he wasout of hearing. 

Never in his life had the newsboy felt so prosperous and happy. 

CHAPTER V. 

THE DISCOVERY. 

 "And at the magistrate's command, And 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, andafterward went to his room to rest, smoke and ruminate. And he finishedthe evening by supping and retiring to bed. 

In the morning, after an early breakfast, he wrote a dozenadvertisements and called a cab and rode around to leave them with thevarious daily papers for immediate publication. Then, to lose no time, he rode up to the Recorder's office to set the police upon the search. 

As he was about to enter the front portal he observed the doorway andpassage blocked up with even a larger crowd than usual. 

And seeing the cabman who had waited upon him the preceding day, heinquired of him:

"What is the matter here?"

"Nothing, your honor, 'cept a boy tuk up for wearing girl's clothes, ora girl tuk up for wearing boy's, I dunno which, " said the man, touchinghis hat. 

"Let me pass, then; I must speak to the chief of police, " said OldHurricane, shoving his way into the Recorder's room. 

"This is not the office of the chief, sir; you will find him on theother side of the hall, " said a bystander. 

But before Old Hurricane had gathered the sense of these words, a sightwithin the office drew his steps thither. Up before the Recorder stood alad of about thirteen years, who, despite his smart, new suit of graycasinet, his long, rolling, black ringlets and his downcast and blushingface, Old Hurricane immediately recognized as his acquaintance, of thepreceding day, the saucy young tatterdemalion. 

Feeling sorry for the friendless boy, the old man impulsively went up tohim and patted him on the shoulder, saying:

"What! In trouble, my lad? Never mind; never look down! I'll warrant yean honest lad from what I've seen myself. Come! come! pluck up a spirit!I'll see you through, my lad. "

"'Lad!' Lord bless your soul, sir, he's no more a lad than you or I! Theyoung rascal is a girl in boy's clothes, sir!" said the officer who hadthe culprit in custody. 

"What--what--what!" exclaimed Old Hurricane, gazing in consternationfrom the young prisoner to the accuser; "what--what! my newsboy, mysaucy little prince of patches, a girl in boy's clothes?"

"Yes, sir--a young scoundrel! I actually twigged him selling papers atthe Fulton Ferry this morning! A little rascal!"

"A girl in boy's clothes! A girl!" exclaimed Old Hurricane, with hiseyes nearly starting out of his head. 

Just then the young culprit looked up in his face with an expressionhalf melancholy, half mischievous, that appealed to the rugged heart ofthe old man. Turning around to the policeman, he startled the wholeoffice by roaring out:

"Girl, is she, sir? Then, demmy, sir, whether a girl in boy's clothes, or men's clothes, or soldier's clothes, or sailor's clothes, or anyclothes, or no clothes, sir, treat her with the delicacy due towomanhood, sir! ay, and the tenderness owed to childhood! for she is buta bit of a poor, friendless, motherless, fatherless child, lost andwandering in your great Babylon! No more hard words to her, sir--or bythe ever-lasting----"

"Order!" put in the calm and dignified Recorder. 

Old Hurricane, though his face was still purple, his veins swollen andhis eyeballs glaring with anger, immediately recovered himself, turnedand bowed to the Recorder and said:

"Yes, sir, I will keep order, if you'll make that brute of a policemanreform his language!"

And so saying Old Hurricane subsided into a seat immediately behind thechild, to watch the examination. 

"What'll they do with her, do you think?" he inquired of a bystander. 

"Send her down, in course. "

"Down! Where?"

"To Blackwell's Island--to the work'us, in course. "

"To the workhouse--her, that child?--the wretches! Um-m-m-me! Oh-h-h!"groaned Old Hurricane, stooping and burying his shaggy gray head in hisgreat hands. 

He felt his shoulder touched, and, looking up, saw that the littleprisoner had turned around, and was about to speak to him. 

"Governor, " said the same clear voice that he had even at first supposedto 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'tmind your eye they'll commit you for contempt!"

"Will they? Then they'll do well, my lad! Lass, I mean. I plead guiltyto contempt. Send a child like you to the----! They shan't do it!Simply, they shan't do it! I, Major Warfield of Virginia, tell you so, my boy--girl, I mean!"

"But, you innocent old lion, instead of freeing me, you'll find yourselfshut up between four walls! and very narrow ones at that, I tell you!You'll think yourself in your coffin! Governor, they call it The Tombs!"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?" inquiredthe clerk. 

"Capitola, sir. "

Old Hurricane pricked up his ears and raised his head, muttering tohimself: "Cap-it-o-la! That's a very odd name! Can't surely be two inthe world of the same! Cap-it-ola!--if it should be my Capitola, afterall! I shouldn't wonder at all! I'll listen and say nothing. " And withthis wise resolution, Old Hurricane again dropped his head upon hishands. 

"You say your name is Capitola--Capitola what?" inquired the clerk, continuing the examination. 

"Nothing sir. "

"Nothing! What do you mean?"

"I have no name but Capitola, 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 packages sweeping beforedoors, clearing off snow, blacking boots and so on. "

"Little odd jobs in general, eh?"

"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 maleattire?"

"Sir?"

"In boy's clothes, then?"

"Oh, yes; want, sir--and--and--danger, sir!" cried the little prisoner, putting her hands to a face crimson with blushes and for the first timesince her arrest upon the eve of sobbing. 

"Oh--oh--oh!" groaned Old Hurricane from his chair. 

"Want? Danger? How is that?" continued the clerk. 

"Your honor mightn't like to know. "

"By all means! It is, in fact, necessary that you should give an accountof yourself, " said the clerk. 

Old Hurricane once more raised his head, opened his ears and gave closeattention. 

One circumstance he had particularly remarked--the language used by thepoor child during her examination was much superior to the slang she hadpreviously affected, to support her assumed character of newsboy. 

"Well, well--why do you pause? Go on--go on, my good boy--girl, I meanI" said the Recorder, in a tone of kind encouragement. 

CHAPTER VI. 

A SHORT, SAD STORY. 

 "Ah! 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 inRag Alley and its neighborhood by an old woman named Nancy Grewell. "

"Ah!" ejaculated Old Hurricane. 

"She was a washwoman, and rented one scantily furnished room from a poorfamily named Simmons. "

"Oh!" cried Old Hurricane. 

"Granny, as I called her, was very good to me, and I never suffered coldnor hunger until about eighteen months ago, when Granny took it into herhead to go down to Virginia. "

"Umph!" exclaimed Old Hurricane. 

"When Granny went away she left me a little money and some good clothesand told me to be sure to stay with the people where she left me, forthat she would be back in about a month. But, your honor, that was thelast I ever saw or heard of poor Granny! She never came back again. Andby that I know she must have died. "

"Ah-h-h!" 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 Simmonses and didlittle 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 forthem. I just couldn't do that, and so they told me I should look out formyself. "

"Were there no customers of your grandmother that you could have appliedto for employment?" asked the Recorder. 

"No, sir. My Granny's customers were mostly boarders at the smalltaverns, and they were always changing. I did apply to two or threehouses where the landladies knew Granny; but they didn't want me. "

"Oh-h-h!" 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 hisunlawful child!"

"Well, go on! What next?" asked the clerk. 

"Well, sir, though the Simmonses had nothing to give me except a crustnow and then, they still let me sleep in the house, for the little jobsI could do for them. But at last Simmons he got work on the railroadaway off somewhere, 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 itwas a shelter, and I was glad of it, and I dreaded the time when itwould be rented by another tenant, and I should be turned into thestreet. "

"Oh! oh! oh, Lord!" groaned the major. 

"But it was never rented again, for the word went around that the wholerow was to be pulled down, and so I thought I had leave to stay at leastas long as the rats did!" continued Capitola, with somewhat of hernatural roguish humor twinkling in her dark-gray eyes. 

"But how did you get your bread?" inquired the Recorder. 

"Did not get it at all, sir. Bread was too dear! I sold my clothes, piece by piece, to the old Jew over the way and bought corn-meal andpicked up trash to make a fire and cooked a little mush every day in anold tin can that had been left behind. And so I lived on for two orthree weeks. And then when my clothes were all gone except the suit Ihad upon my back, and my meal was almost out, instead of making mushevery day I economized and made gruel. "

"But, my boy--my good girl, I mean--before you became so destitute youshould have found something or other to do, " said the Recorder. 

"Sir, I was trying to get jobs every hour in the day. I'd have doneanything honest. I went around to all the houses Granny knew, but theydidn't want a girl. Some of the good-natured landlords said if I was aboy, now, they could keep me opening oysters; but as I was a girl theyhad no work for me. I even went to the offices to get papers to sell;but they told me that crying papers was not proper work for a girl. Ieven went down to the ferry-boats and watched for the passengers comingashore, and ran and offered to carry their carpet-bags or portmanteaus;but some growled at me, and others laughed at me, and one old gentlemanasked me if I thought he was a North American Indian to strut upBroadway with a female behind him carrying his pack. And so, sir, whileall 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 parcel orblack his boots, or shovel the snow off a shopkeeper's pavement, or putin coal, or do anything that I could do just as well as they. And sobecause I was a girl there seemed to be nothing but starvation orbeggary before me!"

"Oh, Lord! oh, Lord! that such things should be!" cried Old Hurricane. 

"That was bad, sir; but there was worse behind! There came a day when mymeal, even the last dust of it, was gone. Then I kept life in me bydrinking water and by sleeping all I could. At first I could not sleepfor the gnawing--gnawing--in my stomach; but afterwards I slept deeply, from exhaustion, and then I'd dream of feasts and the richest sort offood, and of eating such quantities; and, really, sir, I seemed to tasteit and enjoy it and get the good of it, almost as much as if it was alltrue! One morning after such a dream I was waked up by a great noiseoutside. I staggered upon my feet and crept to the window, and there, sir, were the workmen all outside a-pulling down the house over myhead!"

"Good Heaven!" ejaculated Old Hurricane, who seemed to constitutehimself the chorus of this drama. 

"Sir, they didn't know that I or any one was in the empty house! Frightgave me strength to run down-stairs and run out. Then I stopped. Oh! Istopped and looked up and down the street. What should I do? The lastshelter was gone away from me--the house where I had lived so manyyears, and that seemed like a friend to me, was falling before my eyes!I thought I'd 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 dreadfully afraid of beingsuffocated in the dirty water around the wharf!" said Capitola, with asparkle of that irrepressible humor that effervesced even through allher trouble. "Well, sir, the hand that feeds young ravens kept me fromdying that day. I found a five-cent piece in the street and resolved notto smother myself in the river mud as long as it lasted. So I bought amuffin, ate it, and went down to the wharf to look for a job. I lookedall day but found none, and when night came I went into a lumber yardand hid myself behind a pile of planks that kept the wind off me, and Iwent to sleep and dreamed a beautiful dream of living in a handsomehouse, with friends all around me and everything good to eat and drinkand wear!"

"Poor, poor child; but your dream may come true yet!" muttered OldHurricane to himself. 

"Well, your honor, next day I spent another penny out of my half-dimeand looked in vain for work all day and slept at night in a broken-downomnibus that had happened to be left on the stand. And so, not to tireyour 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, andsleeping at night wherever I could--sometimes under the front stoop of ahouse, sometimes in an old broken carriage and sometimes behind a pileof 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 sheanswered:

"Yes, sir, that was the worst of all; that finally drove me to puttingon boy's clothes. "

"Let us hear all about it. "

"Oh, sir, I can't--I--How can I? Well, being always exposed, sleepingoutdoors, I was often in danger from bad boys and bad men, " saidCapitola, and, dropping her head upon her breast and covering hercrimson cheeks with her hands, for the first time she burst into tearsand sobbed aloud. 

"Come, come, my little man--my good little woman, I mean! don't take itso to heart. You couldn't help it!" said Old Hurricane, with raindropsglittering even in his own stormy eyes. 

Capitola looked up, with her whole countenance flashing with spirit, andexclaimed: "Oh! but I took care of myself, sir! I did, indeed, yourhonor! You mustn't, either you or the old gentleman, dare to think butwhat I did!"

"Oh, of course! of course!" said a bystander, laughing. 

Old Hurricane sprang up, bringing his feet down upon the floor with aresound that made the great hall ring again, exclaiming:

"What do you mean by 'of course! of course!' you villain? Demmy! I'llswear she took care of herself, you varlet; and if any man dares to hintotherwise, I'll ram his falsehood down his throat with the point of mywalking stick and make him swallow both!"

"Order! order!" said the clerk. 

Old Hurricane immediately wheeled to the right about faced and salutedthe bench in military fashion, and then said:

"Yes, sir! I'll regard order! but in the meanwhile, if the court doesnot protect this child from insult I must, order or no order!" and withthat the old gentleman once more subsided into his seat. 

"Governor, don't you be so noisy! You'll get yourself stopped up into ajug next! Why, you remind me of an uproarious old fellow poor Grannyused to talk about, that they called Old Hurricane, because he was sostormy!" whispered Capitola, turning toward him. 

"Humph! she's heard of me, then!" muttered the old gentleman to himself. 

"Well, sir--I mean, miss--go on!" said the clerk, addressing Capitola. 

"Yes, sir. Well, your honor, at the end of five days, being a certainThursday 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 waseaten up, and I was dreading the gnawing hunger by day and the horridperils of the night, I thought to myself if I were only a boy I mightcarry packages and shovel in coal, and do lots of jobs by day, and sleepwithout terror by night. And then I felt bitter against Fate for notmaking me a boy. And so, thinking and thinking and thinking I wanderedon until I found myself in Rag Alley, where I used to live, standingright between the pile of broken bricks, plaster and lumber that used tobe my home, and the old Jew's shop where I sold my clothes for meal. Andthen all of a sudden a bright thought struck me? and I made up my mindto be a boy!"

"Made up your mind to be a boy?"

"Yes, sir, for it was so easy! I wondered how I came to be so stupid asnot to have thought of it before. I just ran across to the old Jew'sshop and offered to swap my suit of girl's 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 oldfellow put his finger to his nose as if he thought I'd been stealing andwanted 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 inhis daughter's room and put 'em on. 

"Well, not to tire your honors, I went into that little back parlor agirl and I came out a boy, with a suit of pants and jacket, with my haircut short and a cap on my head! The Jew gave me a penny roll and asixpence 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 didwas to hire myself to the Jew, at a sixpence a day and find myself, toshovel in his coal. That didn't take me but a day. So at night the Jewpaid me, and I slept in peace behind a stack of boxes. Next morning Iwas 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 couldto the ferry-boats to sell to the early passengers. Well, sir, in anhour's time I had sold out and pocketed just two shillings, and feltmyself on the highroad to fortune!"

"And so that was the way by which you came to put yourself in maleattire?"

"Yes, sir, and the only thing that made me feel sorry was to see what afool I had been not to turn to a boy before, when it was so easy! Andfrom that day forth I was happy and prosperous! I found plenty to do! Icarried carpet-bags, held horses, put in coal, cleaned sidewalks, blacked gentlemen's boots and did everything an honest lad could turnhis hand to. And so for more'n a year I was as happy as a king, andshould have kept on so, only I forgot and let my hair grow; and insteadof cutting it off, just tucked it up under my cap; and so this morningon the ferry-boat, in a high breeze, the wind blowed off my cap and thepoliceman blowed on me!"

"'Twasn't altogether her long hair, your honor, for I had seen herbefore, having known her when she lived with old Mrs. Grewell in RagAlley, " interrupted the officer. 

"You may sit down, my child, " said the Recorder, in a tone ofencouragement. 

CHAPTER VII. 

METAMORPHOSIS OF THE NEWSBOY. 

 With caution judge of probability, Things deemed unlikely, e'en impossible, Experience oft hath proven to be true. --Shakespeare. 

"What shall we do with her?" inquired the Recorder, sotto voce, of abrother magistrate who appeared to be associated with him on the bench. 

"Send her to the Refuge, " replied the other, in the same tone. 

"What are they consulting about?" asked Old Hurricane, whose ears werenot of the best. 

"They are talking of sending her to the Refuge, " answered a bystander. 

"Refuge? Is there a refuge for destitute children in New York? ThenBabylon is not so bad as I thought it. What is this Refuge?"

"It is a prison where juvenile delinquents are trained to habits of----"

"A prison! Send her to a prison? Never!" burst forth Old Hurricane, rising and marching up to the Recorder; he stood, hat in hand, beforehim and said:

"Your honor, if a proper legal guardian appears to claim this youngperson and holds himself in all respects responsible for her, may shenot be at once delivered into his hands?"

"Assuredly, " answered the magistrate, with the manner of one glad to berid of the charge. 

"Then, sir, I, Ira Warfield, of Hurricane Hall, in Virginia, presentmyself as the guardian of this girl, Capitola Black, whom I claim as myward. And I will enter into a recognizance for any sum to appear andprove my right if it should be disputed. For my personal responsibility, sir, I refer you to the proprietors of the Astor, who have known me manyyears. "

"It is not necessary, Major Warfield; we assume the fact of yourresponsibility and deliver up the young girl to your charge. "

"I thank you, sir, " said Old Hurricane, bowing low. Then hurrying acrossthe room where sat the reporters for the press he said:

"Gentlemen, I have a favor to ask of you; it is that you will altogetherdrop this case of the boy in girl's clothes--I mean the girl in girl'sclothes--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 requestof you, gentlemen, that you will drop that item from your report, or ifyou must mention it, treat it with delicacy, as the good name of a younglady is involved. "

The reporters, with sidelong glances, winks and smiles, gave him therequired promise, and Old Hurricane returned to the side of hisprotégée. 

"Capitola, are you willing to go with me?"

"Jolly willing, governor. "

"Then come along; my cab is waiting, " said Old Hurricane, and, bowing tothe court, he took the hand of his charge and led her forth, amid theill-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?" inquireda third. 

Leaving all the sarcasm behind him, Old Hurricane handed his protégéeinto the cab, took the seat beside her and gave orders to be driven outtoward Harlem. 

As soon as they were seated in the cab the old man turned to his chargeand said:

"Capitola, I shall have to trust to your girl's wit to get yourself intoyour proper clothes again without exciting further notice. "

"Yes, governor. "

"My boy--girl, I mean--I am not the governor of Virginia, though ifevery one had his rights I don't know but I should be. However, I amonly Major Warfield, " said the old man, naively, for he had not the mostdistant idea that the title bestowed on him by Capitola was a mereremnant of her newsboys "slang. "

"Now, my lad--pshaw! my lass, I mean--how shall we get you metamorphosedagain?"

"I know, gov--major, I mean. There is a shop of ready-made clothing atthe Needle Woman's Aid, corner of the next square. I can get out thereand buy a full suit. "

"Very well. Stop at the next corner, driver, " called Old Hurricane. 

The next minute the cab drew up before a warehouse of ready-madegarments. 

Old Hurricane jumped out, and, leading his charge, entered the shop. 

Luckily, there was behind the counter only one person--a staid, elderly, kind-looking woman. 

"Here, madam, " said Old Hurricane, stooping confidentially to her ear, "I am in a little embarrassment that I hope you will be willing to helpme out of for a consideration. I came to New York in pursuit of myward--this young girl here--whom I found in boy's clothes. I now wish torestore her to her proper dress, before presenting her to my friends, ofcourse. Therefore, I wish you to furnish her with a half dozen completesuits of female attire, of the very best you have that will fit her. Andalso to give her the use of a room and of your own aid in changing herdress. I will pay you liberally. "

Half suspicious and half scandalized, the worthy woman gazed withscrutiny first into the face of the guardian and then into that of theward; but finding in the extreme youth of the one and the advanced ageof the other, and in the honest expression of both, something to allayher fears, if not to inspire her confidence, she said:

"Very well, sir. Come after me, young gentleman--young lady, I shouldsay. " And, calling a boy to mind the shop, she conducted Capitola to aninner apartment. 

Old Hurricane went out and dismissed his cab. When it was entirely outof sight he hailed another that was passing by empty, and engaged it totake himself and a young lady to the Washington House. 

When he re-entered the shop he found the shop woman and Capitolareturned and waiting for him. 

Capitola was indeed transfigured. Her bright black hair, parted in themiddle, fell in ringlets each side her blushing cheeks; her dark-grayeyes were cast down in modesty at the very same instant that her ripered lips were puckered up with mischief. She was well and properlyattired in a gray silk dress, crimson merino shawl and a black velvetbonnet. 

The other clothing that had been purchased was done up in packages andput into the cab. 

And after paying the shop woman handsomely, Old Hurricane took the handof his ward, handed her into the cab and gave the order:

"To the Washington House. "

The ride was performed in silence. 

Capitola sat deeply blushing at the recollection of her male attire, andprofoundly cogitating as to what could be the relationship betweenherself and the gray old man whose claim the Recorder had so promptlyadmitted. There seemed but one way of accounting for the great interesthe took in her fate. Capitola came to the conclusion that the grim oldlion before her was no more nor less than--her own father! for alas!poor Cap had been too long tossed about New York not to know more oflife than at her age she should have known. She had indeed the innocenceof youth, but not its simplicity. 

Old Hurricane, on his part, sat with his thick cane grasped in his twoknobby hands, standing between his knees, his grizzled chin resting uponit 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 wentand entered his own and her name upon the books as "Major Warfield andhis ward, Miss Black, " for whom he engaged two bedrooms and a privateparlor. 

Then, leaving Capitola to be shown to her apartment by a chambermaid, hewent out and ordered her luggage up to her room and dismissed the cab. 

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 Hurricane took to break the links of his action andprevent 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 smelled before. How immensely sheenjoyed it, with all its surroundings--the comfortable room, the glowingfire, the clean table, the rich food, the obsequious attendance, her owngenteel and becoming dress, the company of a highly respectableguardian--all, all so different from anything she had ever beenaccustomed to, and so highly appreciated. 

How happy she felt! How much happier from the contrast of her previouswretchedness, to be suddenly freed from want, toil, fear and all theevils of destitute orphanage, and to find herself blessed with wealth, leisure and safety, under the care of a rich, good and kind father (oras such Capitola continued to believe her guardian to be). It was anincredible thing! It was like a fairy tale!

Something of what was passing in her mind was perceived by OldHurricane, who frequently burst into uproarious fits of laughter as hewatched her. 

At last, when the dinner and the dessert were removed, and the nuts, raisins and wine placed upon the table, and the waiters had retired fromthe room and left them alone, sitting one on each side of the fire, withthe table and its luxuries between them, Major Warfield suddenly lookedup and asked:

"Capitola, whom do you think that I am?"

"Old Hurricane, to be sure. I knew you from Granny's description, themoment you broke out so in the police office, " answered Cap. 

"Humph! Yes, you're right; and it was your Granny that bequeathed you tome, Capitola. "

"Then she is really dead?"

"Yes. There--don't cry about her. She was very old, and she died happy. Now, Capitola, if you please me I mean to adopt you as my own daughter. "

"Yes, father. "

"No, no; you needn't call me father, you know, because it isn't true. Call me uncle, uncle, uncle. "

"Is that true, sir?" asked Cap, demurely. 

"No, no, no; but it will do, it will do. Now, 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 to read at 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! I've heard that name before; here it is again. Who isthat Herbert Greyson?"

"He's second mate on the Susan, sir, that is expected in every day. "

"Umph! umph! Take a glass of wine, Capitola. "

"No, sir; I never touch a single drop. "

"Why? Why? Good wine after dinner, my child, is a good thing, let metell you. "

"Ah, sir, my life has shown me too much misery that has come of drinkingwine. "

"Well, well, as you please. Why, where has the girl run off to!"exclaimed the old man, breaking off, and looking with amazement atCapitola, who had suddenly started up and rushed out of the room. 

In an instant she rushed in again, exclaiming:

"Oh, he's come! he's come! I heard his voice!"

"Whose come, you madcap?" inquired the old man. 

"Oh, Herbert Greyson! Herbert Greyson! His ship is in, and he has comehere! He always comes here--most of the sea officers do, " exclaimed Cap, dancing around until all her black ringlets flew up and down. Thensuddenly pausing, she came quietly to his side and said, solemnly:

"Uncle, Herbert has been at sea three years; he knows nothing of my pastmisery and destitution, nor of my ever wearing boy's clothes. Uncle, please don't tell him, especially of the boy's clothes. " And in theearnestness of her appeal Capitola clasped her hands and raised her eyesto the old man's face. How soft those gray eyes looked when praying! Butfor all that, the very spirit of mischief still lurked about the cornersof the plump, arched lips. 

"Of course I shall tell no one! I am not so proud of your masqueradingas to publish it. And as for this young fellow, I shall probably neversee him!" exclaimed Old Hurricane. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

HERBERT GREYSON. 

 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 stairs again, exclaimingjoyously:

"Here he is, uncle! Here is Herbert Greyson! Come along, Herbert; youmust come in and see my new uncle!" And she broke into the room, dragging before her astonished guardian a handsome, dark-eyed youngsailor, who bowed and then stood blushing at his enforced intrusion. 

"I beg your pardon, sir, " he said, "for bursting in upon you in thisway; 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, how like!" 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 sitdown!"

"Ira Warfield!" exclaimed the young man, starting back inastonishment--one might almost say in consternation. 

"Ay, sir; Ira Warfield! That's my name. Never heard any ill of it, didyou?"

The young man did not answer, but continued gazing in amazement upon thespeaker. 

"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 allthis?" exclaimed old Hurricane, impatiently. 

"Oh, your pardon, sir; this was sudden. But you must know I had once arelative of that name--an uncle. "

"And have still, Herbert; and have still, lad. Come, come, boy; I am notsentimental, nor romantic, nor melodramatic, nor nothing of that sort. Idon't know how to strike an attitude and exclaim, 'Come to my bosom, sole remaining offspring of a dear departed sister' or any of the likestage playing. But I tell you, lad, that I like your looks; and I likewhat I have heard of you from this girl, and another old woman, nowdead; and so--But sit down, sit down! demmy, sir, sit down, and we'lltalk over the walnuts and the wine. Capitola, take your seat, too, "ordered the old man, throwing himself into his chair. Herbert also drewhis chair up. 

Capitola resumed her seat, saying to herself:

"Well, well, I am determined not to be surprised at anything thathappens, being perfectly clear in my own mind that this is all nothingbut a dream. But how pleasant it is to dream that I have found a richuncle and he has found a nephew, and that nephew is Herbert Greyson! Ido believe that I had rather die in my sleep than wake from this dream!"

"Herbert, " said old Hurricane, as soon as they were gathered around thetable--"Herbert, this is my ward, Miss Black, the daughter of a deceasedfriend. Capitola, this is the only son of my departed sister. "

"Hem-m-m! We have had the pleasure of being acquainted with each otherbefore, " 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 don't believeyou--yes, I do, too! Demmy, sir, if you never touch wine it's becauseyou prefer brandy! Waiter!"

"I thank you, sir. Order no brandy for me. If I never use intoxicatingliquors it is because I gave a promise to that effect to my dyingmother. "

"Say no more--say no more, lad. Drink water, if you like. It won't hurtyou!" exclaimed the old man, filling and quaffing a glass of champagne. Then he said:

"I quarreled with your mother, Herbert, for marrying a man that Ihated--yes, hated, Herbert, for he differed with me about the tariffand--the Trinity! Oh, how I hated him, boy, until he died! And then Iwondered in my soul, as I wonder even now, how I ever could have been soinfuriated against a poor fellow now cold in his grave, as I shall be intime. I wrote to my sister and expressed my feelings; but, somehow orother, Herbert, we never came to a right understanding again. Sheanswered my letter affectionately enough, but she refused to accept ahome for herself and child under my roof, saying that she thanked me formy offer, but that the house which had been closed against her husbandought never to become the refuge of his widow. After that we nevercorresponded, 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 myfather's memory without being resentful toward you. She said that youhad a noble nature, but it was often obscured by violent passions. Onher dead-bed she bade me, should I ever meet you, to say that sherepented her refusal of your offered kindness. "

"And consented that it should be transferred to her orphan boy?" addedOld Hurricane, with the tears like raindrops 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 agood berth in the Susan and a kind friend in her captain. "

"You have all your dear mother's pride, Herbert. "

"And all his uncle's!" put in Cap. 

"Hush, Magpie! But is the merchant service agreeable to you, Herbert?"

"Not perfectly, sir; but one must be content. "

"Demmy, sir, my sister's son need not be content unless he has a mindto! 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 thatyou are not altogether satisfied. "

"On the contrary, sir, I told you distinctly that I really wantednothing, and that I must be satisfied. "

"And I say, demmy, sir! you sha'n'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 hisface lighted up with enthusiasm. 

"Then, demmy, if you like the army, sir, you shall enter it! Yes, sir!Demmy, the administration, confound them, has not done me justice, butthey'll scarcely dare to refuse to send my nephew to West Point when Idemand it. "

"To West Point!" exclaimed Herbert, in delight. 

"Ay, youngster, to West Point. I shall see to it when I pass throughWashington on my way to Virginia. We start in the early train to-morrowmorning. 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 HurricaneHall your home until you go to West Point. "

"Oh, what a capital old governor our uncle is!" exclaimed Cap, jumpingup and clapping her hands. 

"Sir, indeed you overwhelm me with this most unexpected kindness! I donot know as yet how much of it I ought to accept. But accident will makeme, whether or no, your traveling companion for a great part of the way, as I also start for Virginia to-morrow, to visit dear friends there, whose house was always my mother's home and mine, and who, since mybereavement, have been to me like a dear mother and brother. I have notseen them for years, and before I go anywhere else, even to your kindroof, I must go there, " said Herbert, gravely. 

"And who are those dear friends of yours, Hebert, and where do theylive? If I can serve them they shall be rewarded for their kindness untoyou, my boy. "

"Oh, sir, yes; you can indeed serve them. They are a poor widow and heronly son. She has seen better days, but now takes in sewing to supportherself and boy. When my mother was living, during the last years of herlife, when she also was a poor widow with an only son, they joined theirslender 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 andworked for me as for her own son until, ashamed of being a burden toher, I ran away and went to sea. "

"Noble, 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 eithermoney or influence upon my fortunes; but, oh, do educate Traverse! He issuch a gifted lad--so intellectual! Even his Sunday-school teacher saysthat he is sure to work his way to distinction, although now he isaltogether dependent on his Sunday-school for his learning. Oh, sir, ifyou would only educate the son he'd make a fortune for his mother. "

"Generous boy, to plead for your friends rather than for yourself. But Iam strong enough, thank God, to help you all. You shall go to WestPoint. Your friend shall go to school and then to college, " said OldHurricane, with a burst of honest enthusiasm. 

"And where shall I go, sir?" inquired Cap. 

"To the insane asylum, you imp!" exclaimed the old man; then, turning toHerbert, he continued: "Yes, lad; I will do as I say; and as for thepoor but noble-hearted widow----"

"You'll marry her yourself, as a reward; won't you, uncle?" asked theincorrigible Cap. 

"Perhaps I will, you monkey, if it is only to bring somebody home tokeep 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 wehave had that I think we had better separate and prepare for our journeyto-morrow. "

Herbert obeyed, and, after the required refreshment had been served andpartaken of, the little circle broke up for the evening and soon afterretired to rest. 

Early the next morning, after a hasty breakfast, the three took theirseats in the express train for Washington, where they arrived upon theevening of the same day. They put up for the night at Brown's, and thenext day Major Warfield, leaving his party at their hotel, called uponthe President, the Secretary of the Navy and other high officialdignitaries, and put affairs in such a train that he had little doubt ofthe 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 duetime, they arrived, and whence they took the valley line of coaches thatpassed through Tip-Top, which they reached upon the morning of thefourth day of their long journey. Here they found Major Warfield'scarriage waiting for him, and here they were to separate--Major Warfieldand Capitola to turn off to Hurricane Hall and Herbert Greyson to keepon the route to the town of Staunton. 

It was as the three sat in the parlor of the little hotel where thestage stopped to change horses that their adieus were made. 

"Remember, Herbert, that I am willing to go to the utmost extent of mypower to benefit the good widow and her son who were so kind to mynephew in his need. Remember that! I hold it a sacred debt that I owethem. Tell them so. And mind, Herbert, I shall expect you back in a weekat furthest. "

"I shall be punctual, sir. God bless you, my dear uncle. You have mademe very happy in being the bearer of such glad tidings to the widow andthe fatherless. And now I hear the horn blowing--good-by, uncle;good-by, 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 doorand jumped aboard the coach just as the impatient driver was about toleave him behind. 

As soon as the coach had rolled out of sight Major Warfield handedCapitola into his carriage that had long been waiting, and took the seatby her side, much to the scandalization of Wool, who muttered to hishorses:

"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, " said Capitola as the carriage rolled lazily along--"uncle, doyou know you never once asked Herbert the name of the widow you aregoing to befriend, and that he never told you?"

"By George, that is true! How strange! Yet I did not seem to miss thename. How did it ever happen, Capitola? Did he omit it on purpose, doyou think?"

"Why, no, uncle. He, boylike, always spoke of them as 'Traverse' and'Traverse's mother'; and you, like yourself, called her nothing but the'poor widow' and the 'struggling mother' and the 'noble woman, ' and soon, 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 andHerbert would go on talking of them forever without having to use theirsurnames. And, behold, he even went away without naming them!"

"By George! and so he did. It was the strangest over-sight. But I'llwrite as soon as I get home and ask him. "

"No, uncle; just for the fun of the thing, wait until he comes back, andsee how long it will be and how much he will talk of them withoutmentioning their names. "

"Ha, ha, ha! So I will, Cap, so I will! Besides whatever their namesare, it's nothing to me. 'A rose by any other name would smell assweet, ' you know. And if she is 'Mrs. Tagfoot Waddle' I shall stillthink so good a woman exalted as a Montmorencie. Mind there, Wool; thisroad is getting rough. "

"Over it now, marster, " said Wool, after a few heavy jolts. "Over itnow, missus; and de rest of de way is perfectly delightful. "

Cap looked out of the window and saw before her a beautiful piece ofscenery--first, just below them, the wild mountain stream of the Demon'sRun, 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 HurricaneHall. 

CHAPTER IX. 

MARAH 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 town of Staunton out to theforest-crowned hills beyond, stood alone a little, gray stone cottage, in the midst of a garden inclosed by a low, moldering stone wall. A fewgnarled and twisted fruit trees, long past bearing, stood around thehouse that their leafless branches could not be said to shade. A littlewooden gate led up an old paved walk to the front door, on each side ofwhich were large windows. 

In this poor cottage, remote from other neighbors, dwelt the friends ofHerbert Greyson--the widow Rocke and her son Traverse. 

No one knew who she was, or whence or why she came. Some fifteen yearsbefore she had appeared in town, clothed in rusty mourning andaccompanied by a boy of about two years of age. She had rented thatcottage, furnished it poorly and had settled there, supporting herselfand child by needlework. 

At the time that Doctor Greyson died and his widow and son were leftperfectly destitute, and it became necessary for Mrs. Greyson to lookout for a humble lodging where she could find the united advantages ofcheapness, cleanliness and pure air, she was providentially led toinquire at the cottage of the widow Rocke, whom she found only too gladto increase her meager income by letting half her little house to suchunexceptionable tenants as the widow Greyson and her son. 

And thus commenced between the two poor young women and the two boys anacquaintance that ripened into friendship, and thence into that devotedlove so seldom seen in this world. 

Their households became united. One fire, one candle and one tableserved the little family, and thus considerable expense was saved aswell as much social comfort gained. And when the lads grew too old tosleep with their mothers, one bed held the two boys and the otheraccommodated the two women. And, despite toil, want, care--the sorrowfor the dead and the neglect of the living--this was a loving, contentedand cheerful little household. How much of their private history thesewomen might have confided to each other was not known, but it wascertain that they continued fast friends up to the time of the death ofMrs. Greyson, after which the widow Rocke assumed a double burden, andbecame a second mother to the orphan boy, until Herbert himself, ashamedof 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 dearbrother, as he called Traverse. And at the end of every prosperousvoyage, when he had a little money, he had sent them funds; but notalways did these letters or remittances reach the widow's cottage, andlong seasons of intense anxiety would be suffered by her for the fate ofher sailor boy, as she always called Herbert. Only three times in allthese 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 hadeven received a letter from him. And now the poor widow and her son werealmost tempted to think that their sailor boy had quite forsaken them. 

It is near the close of a late autumnal evening that I shall introduceyou, 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 doorright into a large, clean but poor-looking sitting-room and kitchen. 

Everything was old, though neatly and comfortably arranged about thisroom. A faded home-made carpet covered the floor, a threadbare crimsoncurtain hung before the window, a rickety walnut table, dark with age, sat under the window against the wall; old walnut chairs were placedeach side of it; old plated candlesticks, with the silver all worn off, graced the mantelpiece; a good fire--a cheap comfort in that well-woodedcountry--blazed upon the hearth; on the right side of the fireplace afew shelves contained some well-worn books, a flute, a few minerals andother little treasures belonging to Traverse; on the left hand there wasa dresser containing the little delfware, tea service and plates anddishes of the small family. 

Before the fire, with her knitting in her hand, sat Marah Rocke, watching the kettle as it hung singing over the blaze and the oven ofbiscuits that sat baking upon the hearth. 

Marah Rocke was at this time about thirty-five years of age, and of asingularly refined and delicate aspect for one of her supposed rank; herlittle form, slight and flexible as that of a young girl, was clothed ina poor but neat black dress, relieved by a pure-white collar around herthroat; her jet-black hair was parted plainly over her "low, sweetbrow, " brought down each side her thin cheeks and gathered into a bunchat the back of her shapely little head; her face was oval, with regularfeatures and pale olive complexion; serious lips, closed in pensivethought, and soft, dark-brown eyes, full of tender affection andsorrowful memories, and too often cast down in meditation beneath theheavy shadows of their long, thick eyelashes, completed the melancholybeauty of a countenance not often seen among the hard-working childrenof toil. 

Marah Rocke was a very hard-working woman, sewing all day long andknitting through the twilight, and then again resuming her needle bycandle-light and sewing until midnight--and yet Marah Rocke made but apoor and precarious living for herself and son. Needlework, so ill-paidin large cities, is even worse paid in the country towns, and, thoughthe cottage hearth was never cold, the widow's meals were often scant. Lately her son, Traverse, who occasionally earned a trifle of money bydoing "with all his might whatever his hand could find to do, " had beenengaged by a grocer in the town to deliver his goods to his customersduring the illness of the regular porter; for which, as he was only asubstitute, he received the very moderate sum of twenty-five cents aday. 

This occupation took Traverse from home at daybreak in the morning, andkept him absent until eight o'clock at night. Nevertheless, the widowalways gave him a hot breakfast before he went out in the morning andkept a comfortable supper waiting for him at night. 

It was during this last social meal that the youth would tell his motherall that had occurred in his world outside the home that day, and allthat he expected to come to pass the next, for Traverse was wonderfullyhopeful and sanguine. 

And after supper the evening was generally spent by Traverse in hardstudy beside his mother's sewing-stand. 

Upon this evening, when the widow sat waiting for her son, he seemed tobe detained longer than usual. She almost feared that the biscuits wouldbe burned, or, if taken from the oven, be cold before he would come toenjoy them; but, just as she had looked for the twentieth time at thelittle black walnut clock that stood between those old platedcandlesticks on the mantelpiece, the sound of quick, light, joyousfootsteps was heard resounding along the stony street, the gate wasopened, a hand laid upon the door-latch, and the next instant entered ayouth some seventeen years of age, clad in a home-spun suit, whosecoarse material and clumsy make could not disguise his noble form orgraceful air. 

He was like his mother, with the same oval face, regular features andpale 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 difference in the character of theirfaces; where hers showed refinement and melancholy, his exhibitedstrength and cheerfulness--his loving brown eyes, instead of droopingsadly under the shadow of their lashes, looked you brightly andconfidently full in the face; and, lastly, his black hair curled crisplyaround a broad, high forehead, royal with intellect. Such was the boythat entered the room and came joyously forward to his mother, claspinghis arm around her neck, saluting her on both cheeks, and thenlaughingly claiming his childish privilege of kissing "the pretty littleblack mole on her throat. "

"Will you never have outgrown your babyhood, Traverse?" asked hismother, smiling at his affectionate ardor. 

"Yes, dear little mother; in everything but the privilege of fondlingyou; that feature of babyhood I never shall outgrow, " exclaimed theyouth, kissing her again with all the ardor of his true and affectionateheart, and starting up to help her set the table. 

He dragged the table out from under the window, spread the cloth andplaced the cups and saucers upon it, while his mother took the biscuitsfrom the oven and made the tea; so that in ten minutes from the momentin which he entered the room, mother and son were seated at their frugalsupper. 

"I suppose, to-morrow being Saturday, you will have to get up earlierthan usual to go to the store?" said his mother. 

"No, ma'am, " replied the boy, looking up brightly, as if he were tellinga piece of good news; "I am not wanted any longer. Mr. Spicer's own manhas 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 achance to-morrow of mending the fence and nailing up the gate and sawingwood enough to last you a week, besides doing all the other little oddjobs that have been waiting for me so long; and then on Monday I shallget more work. "

"I wish I were sure of it, " said the widow, whose hopes had long sincebeen too deeply crushed to permit her ever to be sanguine. 

When their supper was over and the humble service cleared away, theyouth took his books and applied himself to study on the opposite sideof the table at which his mother sat busied with her needlework. Andthere fell a perfect silence between them. 

The widow's mind was anxious and her heart heavy; many cares nevercommunicated to cloud the bright sunshine of her boy's soul oppressedhers. The rent had fallen fearfully behindhand, and the landlordthreatened, unless the money could be raised to pay him, to seize theirfurniture and eject them from the premises. And how this money was to beraised she could not see at all. True, this meek Christian had often inher sad experience proved God's special providence at her utmost need, and now she believed in His ultimate interference, but in what manner Hewould now interpose she could not imagine, and her faith grew dim andher hope dark and her love cold. 

While she was revolving these sad thoughts in her mind, Traversesuddenly thrust aside his books, and, with a deep sigh, turned to hismother and said:

"Mother, what do you think has ever become of Herbert?"

"I do not know; I dread to conjecture. It has now been nearly threeyears since we heard from him, " exclaimed the widow, with the tearswelling up in her brown eyes. 

"You think he has been lost at sea, mother, but I don't. I simply thinkhis letters have been lost. And, somehow, to-night I can't fix my mindon my lesson or keep it off Herbert. He is running in my head all thetime. If I were fanciful, now, I should believe that Herbert was deadand his spirit was about me. Good heavens, mother, whose step is that?"suddenly exclaimed the youth, starting up and assuming an attitude ofintense listening, as a firm and ringing step, attended by a peculiarwhistling, approached up the street and entered the gate. 

"It is Herbert! it is Herbert!" cried Traverse, starting across the roomand tearing open the door with a suddenness that threw the enteringguest forward upon his own bosom; but his arms were soon around thenewcomer, clasping him closely there, while he breathlessly exclaimed:

"Oh, Herbert, I am so glad to see you! Oh, Herbert, why didn't you comeor 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 torepay all your great kindness; but now let me speak to my secondmother, " said Herbert, returning Traverse's embrace and then gentlyextricating himself and going to where Mrs. Rocke stood up, pale, trembling and incredulous; she had not yet recovered from the greatshock of his unexpected appearance. 

"Dear mother, won't you welcome me?" asked Herbert, going up to her. Hiswords dissolved the spell that bound her. Throwing her arms around hisneck and bursting into tears, she exclaimed:

"Oh, my son! my son! my sailor boy! my other child! how glad I am tohave you back once more! Welcome! To be sure you are welcome! Is my owncirculating blood welcome back to my heart? But sit you down and rest bythe fire; I will get your supper directly. "

"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!" saidthe youth, pressing that hand to his lips and then allowing the widow toput him into a chair right in front of the fire. 

Traverse sat on one side of him and his mother on the other, eachholding a hand of his and gazing on him with mingled incredulity, surprise and delight, as if, indeed, they could not realize his presenceexcept by devouring him with their eyes. 

And for the next half hour all their talk was as wild and incoherent asthe conversation of long-parted friends suddenly brought together is aptto be. 

It was all made up of hasty questions, hurried one upon another, so asto leave but little chance to have any of them answered, and wildexclamations and disjointed sketches of travel, interrupted by frequentejaculations; yet through all the widow and her son, perhaps through thequickness of their love as well as of their intellect, managed to getsome knowledge of the past three years of their "sailor boy's" life andadventures, and they entirely vindicated his constancy when they learnedhow frequently and regularly he had written, though they had neverreceived 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 somethingthat concerns yourselves. "

"That concerns us?" exclaimed mother and son in a breath. 

"Yes, ma'am; yes, sir; that concerns you both eminently. But, first ofall, let me ask how you are getting on at the present time. "

"Oh, as usual, " said the widow, smiling, for she did not wish to dampenthe spirits of her sailor boy; "as usual, of course. Traverse has notbeen able to accomplish his darling purpose of entering the Seminaryyet; but----"

"But I'm getting on quite well with my education, for all that, "interrupted Traverse; "for I belong to Dr. Day's Bible class in theSabbath school, which is a class of young men, you know, and the doctoris 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 anhour twice a week, when he examines me in Latin and algebra, and sets menew exercises, which I study and write out at night; so that you see Iam doing very well. "

"Indeed, the doctor, who is a great scholar, and one of the trustees andexaminers of the Seminary, says that he does not know any young manthere, with all the advantages of the institution around him, who isgetting along so fast as Traverse is, with all the difficulties he hasto encounter. The doctor says it is all because Traverse is profoundlyin earnest, and that one of these days he will be----"

"There, mother, don't repeat all the doctor's kind speeches. He onlysays such things to encourage a poor boy in the pursuit of knowledgeunder 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, nodding and smiling. 

"You do me proud!" said Traverse, touching his forelock with comicgravity. "But, " inquired he, suddenly changing his tone and becomingserious, "was it not--is it not--noble in the doctor to give up an hourof his precious time twice a week for no other cause than to help apoor, struggling fellow like me up the ladder of learning?"

"I should think it was! But he is not the first noble heart I ever heardof!" said Herbert, with an affectionate glance that directed thecompliment. "Nor is his the last that you will meet with. I must tellyou the good news now. "

"Oh, tell it, tell it! Have you got a ship of your own, Herbert?"

"No; nor is it about myself that I am anxious to tell you. Mrs. Rocke, 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 herdeath, she and her brother--this very uncle--had been estranged?"

"Yes, " said the widow, speaking in a very low tone and bending her headover her work; "yes, I have heard so; but your mother and myself seldomalluded to the subject. "

"Exactly; mother never was fond of talking of him. Well, when I cameashore and went, as usual, up to the old Washington House, who should Imeet with, all of a sudden, but this rich uncle. He had come to New Yorkto claim a little girl whom I happened to know, and who happened torecognize me and name me to him. Well, I knew him only by his name; buthe knew me both by my name and by my likeness to his sister, andreceived me with wonderful kindness, offered me a home under his roof, and promised to get for me an appointment to West Point. Are you notglad?--say, are you not glad?" he exclaimed, jocosely clapping his handupon Traverse's knee, and then turning around and looking at his mother. 

"Oh, yes, indeed, I am very glad, Herbert, " exclaimed Traverse, heartilygrasping 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 stilllower over her work. 

"Ha! ha! ha! I knew you'd be glad for me; but now I require you to beglad for yourselves. Now listen! When I told my honest old uncle--for heis honest, with all his eccentricities--when I told him of what friendsyou had been to me----"

"Oh, no; you did not--you did not mention us to him?" cried the widow, suddenly starting up and clasping her hands together, while she gazed inan agony of entreaty into the face of the speaker. 

"Why not? Why in the world not? Was there anything improper in doingso?" inquired Herbert in astonishment, while Traverse himself gazed inamazement at the excessive and unaccountable agitation of his mother. 

"Why, mother? Why shouldn't he have mentioned us? Was there anythingstrange or wrong in that?" inquired Traverse. 

"No; oh no; certainly not; I forgot, it was so sudden, " said the widow, sinking back in her chair and struggling 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 forcedupon the attention of a wealthy gentleman, " she said with a cold, unnatural smile, putting her hand to her brow and striving to gaincomposure. Then, as Herbert continued silent and amazed, she said tohim:

"Go on, go on--you were saying something about my--about MajorWarfield's kindness to you--go on. " And she took up her work and triedto sew, but she was as pale as death and trembling all over at the sametime that every nerve was acute with attention to catch every word thatmight fall from the lips of Herbert. 

"Well, " recommenced the young sailor, "I was just saying that when Imentioned you and Traverse to my uncle, and told him how kind anddisinterested you had been to me--you being like a mother and Traverselike a brother--he was really moved almost to tears. Yes, I declare Isaw the raindrops glittering in his tempestuous old orbs as he walkedthe floor muttering to himself, 'Poor women--good, excellent woman. '"

While Herbert spoke the widow dropped her work without seeming to knowthat she had done so; her fingers twitched so nervously that she had tohold both hands clasped together, and her eyes were fixed in intenseanxiety upon the face of the youth as she repeated:

"Go on--oh, go on. What more did he say when you talked of us?"

"He said everything that was kind and good. He said that he could not dotoo much to compensate you for the past. "

"Oh, did he say that?" exclaimed the widow, breathlessly. 

"Yes, and a great deal more--that all that he could do for you or yourson was but a sacred debt he owed you. "

"Oh, he acknowledged it--he acknowledged it! Thank Heaven! oh, thankHeaven! Go on, Herbert; go on. "

"He said that he would in future take the whole charge of the boy'sadvancement in life, and that he would place you above want forever:that he would, in fact, compensate for the past by doing you and yoursfull justice. "

"Thank Heaven! oh, thank Heaven!" exclaimed the widow, no longerconcealing her agitation, but throwing down her work, and starting upand pacing the floor in excess of joy. 

"Mother, " said Traverse, uneasily, going to her and taking her hand, "mother, what is the meaning of all this? Do come and sit down. "

She immediately turned and walked back to the fire, and, resting herhands upon the back of the chair, bent upon them a face radiant withyouthful beauty. Her cheeks were brightly flushed, her eyes weresparkling with light, her whole countenance resplendent with joy--shescarcely seemed twenty years of age. 

"Mother, tell us what it is, " pleaded Traverse, who feared for hersanity. 

"Oh, boys, I am so happy! At last! at last! after eighteen years ofpatient 'hoping against hope!' I shall go mad with joy!"

"Mother, " said Herbert, softly. 

"Children, I am not crazy! I know what I am saying, though I did notintend to say it! And you shall know, too! But first I must ask Herbertanother question: Herbert, are you very sure that he--MajorWarfield--knew who we were?"

"Yes, indeed; didn't I tell him all about you--your troubles, yourstruggles, your disinterestedness and all your history since ever I knewyou?" answered Herbert, who was totally unconscious that he had leftMajor Warfield in ignorance of one very important fact--her surname. 

"Then you are sure he knew who he was talking about?"

"Of course he did. "

"He could not have failed to do so, indeed. But, Herbert, did he mentionany other important fact that you have not yet communicated to us?"

"No, ma'am. "

"Did he allude to any previous acquaintance with us?"

"No, ma'am, unless it might have been in the words I repeated toyou--there was nothing else--except that he bade me hurry to you andmake you glad with his message, and return as soon as possible to lethim know whether you accept his offers. "

"Accept them! accept them! Of course I do. I have waited for them foryears. Oh, children, you gaze on me as if you thought me mad. I am notso; nor can I now explain myself, for, since he has not chosen to beconfidential with Herbert, I cannot be so prematurely; but you will knowall when Herbert shall have borne back my message to Major Warfield. "

It was indeed a mad evening in the cottage. And even when the littlefamily had separated and retired to bed, the two youths, lying togetheras formerly, could not sleep for talking, while the widow on her lonelycouch 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 HurricaneHall, much to the discomfiture of good Mrs. Condiment, who was quiteunprepared to expect the new inmate; and when Major Warfield said:

"Mrs. Condiment, this is your young lady; take her up to the bestbedroom, where she can take off her bonnet and shawl, " the worthy dame, thinking secretly, "The old fool has gone and married a young wife, sureenough; a mere chit of a child, " made a very deep curtsy and a veryqueer cough and said:

"I am mortified, madam, at the fire not being made in the best bedroom;but, then, I was not warned of your coming, madam. "

"Madam? Is the old woman crazed? This child is no 'madam. ' She is MissBlack, my ward, the daughter of a deceased friend, " sharply exclaimedOld Hurricane. 

"Excuse me, miss; I did not know; I was unprepared to receive a younglady. Shall I attend you, Miss Black?" said the old lady, in a mollifiedtone. 

"If you please, " said Capitola, who arose to follow her. 

"Not expecting you, miss, I have no proper room prepared; most of themare not furnished, and in some the chimneys are foul; indeed, the onlytolerable room I can put you in is the room with the trap-door--if youwould not object to it, " said Mrs. Condiment, as with a candle in herhand she preceded Capitola along the gloomy hall and then opened a doorthat led into a narrow passage. 

"A room with a trap-door? That's a curious thing; but why should Iobject to it? I don't at all. I think I should rather like it, " saidCapitola. 

"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 andhas swallows' nests in the chimney, " answered Mrs. Condiment, as she ledthe way along the narrow passages and up and down dark back stairs andthrough bare and deserted rooms and along other passages until shereached a remote chamber, opened the door and invited her guest toenter. 

It was a large, shadowy room, through which the single candle shed sucha faint, uncertain light that at first Capitola could see nothing butblack masses looming through the darkness. 

But when Mrs. Condiment advanced and set the candle upon thechimney-piece, and Capitola's sight accommodated itself to the scene, she saw that upon the right of the chimney-piece stood a tall testerbedstead, curtained with very dark crimson serge; on the left hand, thick curtains of the same color draped the two windows. Between thewindows, directly opposite the bed, stood a dark mahogany dressingbureau with a large looking-glass; a washstand in the left-hand cornerof the chimney-piece, and a rocking-chair and two plain chairs completedthe furniture of this room that I am particular in describing, as uponthe simple accident of its arrangement depended, upon two occasions, thelife and honor of its occupant. There was no carpet on the floor, withthe exception of a large, old Turkey rug that was laid before thefireplace. 

"Here, my dear, this room is perfectly dry and comfortable, and wealways keep kindlings built up in the fireplace ready to light in case aguest should come, " said Mrs. Condiment, applying a match to the wastepaper under the pine knots and logs that filled the chimney. Soon therearose a cheerful blaze that lighted up all the room, glowing on thecrimson serge bed curtains and window curtains and flashing upon thelarge looking-glass between them. 

"There, my dear, sit down and make yourself comfortable, " 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. "

"Ah, yes--look!" said Mrs. Condiment, lifting up the rug and revealing alarge drop, some four feet square, that was kept up in its place by ashort 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 topush the bolt back, the trap-door would drop and you fall down--heavenknows where!"

"Is there a cellar under there?" inquired Capitola, gazing with interestupon the door. 

"Lord knows, child; I don't. I did once make one of the nigger men letit down so I could look in it; but, Lord, child, I saw nothing but agreat, black, deep vacuity, without bottom or sides. It put such ahorror over me that I have never looked down there since, and never wantto, I'm sure. "

"Ugh! for goodness' sake what was the horrid thing made for?" ejaculatedCapitola, gazing as if fascinated by the trap. 

"The Lord only knows, my dear; for it was made long before ever thehouse came into the major's family. But they do say----" whispered Mrs. Condiment, mysteriously. 

"Ah! what do they say?" asked Capitola, eagerly, throwing off her bonnetand shawl and settling herself to hear some thrilling explanation. 

Mrs. Condiment slowly replaced the rug, drew another chair to the sideof the young girl and said:

"They 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 partof the house. It was all built as far back as the old French and Indianwar; but this room belonged to the part that dates back to the firstsettlement of the country. "

"Then I shall like it better than any room in the house, for I dote onold places with stories to them. Go on, please. "

"Yes, my dear. Well, first of all, this place was a part of the grant ofland given to the Le Noirs. And the first owner, old Henri Le Noir, wassaid to be one of the grandest villains that ever was heard of. Well, you see, he lived out here in his hunting lodge, which is this part ofthe house. "

"Oh, my! then this very room was a part of the old pioneer hunter'slodge?"

"Yes, my dear; and they do say that he had this place made as a trap forthe Indians! You see, they say he was on terms of friendship with theSuccapoos, a little tribe of Indians that was nearly wasted away, thoughamong the few that was left there were several braves. Well, he wantedto buy a certain large tract of land from this tribe, and they were allwilling to sell it except those half a dozen warriors, who wanted it forcamping ground. So what does this awful villain do but lay a snare forthem. He makes a great feast in his lodge and invites his red brothersto come to it; and they come. Then he proposes that they stand upon hisblanket and all swear eternal brotherhood, which he made the poor soulsbelieve was the right way to do it. Then when they all six stood closetogether as they could stand, with hands held up touching above theirheads, all of a sudden the black villain sprung the bolt, the trap felland the six men went down--down, the Lord knows where!"

"Oh! that is horrible! horrible!" cried Capitola; "but where do youthink they fell to?"

"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 theDemon's Punch Bowl. But if there is a bottom to that abyss, that bottomis strewn with human bones!"

"Oh! horrible! most horrible!" exclaimed Capitola. 

"Perhaps you are afraid to sleep here by yourself? If so, there's thedamp room----"

"Oh, no! oh, no! I am not afraid. I have been in too much deadly perilfrom the living ever to fear the dead! No, I like the room, with itsstrange legend; but tell me, did that human devil escape withoutpunishment from the tribe of the murdered victims?"

"Lord, child, how were they to know of what was done? There wasn't a manleft to tell the tale. Besides, the tribe was now brought down to a fewold men, women and children. So, when he showed a bill of sale for theland he wanted, signed by the six braves--'their marks, ' in sixblood-red arrows, there was none to contradict him. "

"How was his villainy found out?"

"Well, it was said he married, had a family and prospered for a longwhile; but that the poor Succapoos always suspected him, and bore a longgrudge, and that when the sons of the murdered warriors grew up to bepowerful braves, one night they set upon the house and massacred thewhole family except the eldest son, a lad of ten, who escaped and ranaway and gave the alarm to the block-house, where there were soldiersstationed. It is said that after killing and scalping father, mother andchildren, the savages threw the dead bodies down that trap-door. Andthey had just set fire to the house and were dancing their wild dancearound it, when the soldiers arrived and dispersed the party and put outthe fire. "

"Oh, what bloody, bloody days!"

"Yes, my dear, and as I told you before, if that horrible pit has anybottom, 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 anotherroom. "

"Afraid! What of? Those skeletons, supposing them to be there, cannothurt me! I am not afraid of the dead! I only dread the living, and notthem much, either!" said Capitola. 

"Well, my dear, you will want a waiting-woman, anyhow; and I think Iwill send Pitapat to wait on you; she can sleep on a pallet in yourroom, and be some company. "

"And who is Pitapat, Mrs. Condiment?"

"Pitapat? Lord, child, she is the youngest of the housemaids. I'vecalled 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 Iwould hear her little feet coming pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, up the darkstairs up to my room. As it was often the only sound to be heard in thestill house, I grew to call my little visitor Pitapat. "

"Then let me have Pitapat by all means. I like company, especiallycompany that I can send away when I choose. "

"Very well, my dear; and now I think you'd better smooth your hair andcome down with me to tea, for it is full time, and the major, as you mayknow, is not the most patient of men. "

Capitola took a brush from her traveling-bag, hastily arranged her blackringlets 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 fireburned and a substantial supper was spread. 

Old Hurricane took Capitola's hand with a hearty grasp, and placed herin a chair at the side, and then took his own seat at the foot of thetable. 

Mrs. Condiment sat at the head and poured out the tea. 

"Uncle, " said Capitola, suddenly, "what is under the trap-door in myroom?"

"What! Have they put you in that room?" exclaimed the old man, hastilylooking up. 

"There was no other one prepared, sir, " said the housekeeper. 

"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'sunder it?"

"Oh, I don't know--an old cave that was once used as a dry cellar untilan 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 ofCapitola so sharply that it made her stop short, while she dexterouslychanged the conversation by asking the major if he would not send Woolto Tip-Top in the morning for another bag of coffee. 

Soon after supper was over Capitola, saying that she was tired, bade heruncle good night, and, attended by her little black maid Pitapat, whomMrs. Condiment had called up for the purpose, retired to her distantchamber. There were already collected here three trunks, which theliberality of her uncle had filled. 

As soon as she had got in and locked the door she detached one of thestrongest straps from her largest trunk and then turned up the rug andsecured the end of the strap to the ring in the trap-door. Then shewithdrew the bolt, and, holding on to one end of the strap, gentlylowered the trap, and, kneeling, gazed down into an awful blackvoid--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 careyou don't fall in, " said Capitola. "Come, as I've got a 'pit' in my nameand you've got a 'pit' in yours, we'll see if we can't make something ofthis third 'pit. '"

"Deed, I'se 'fraid, Miss, " said the poor little darkey. 

"Afraid! What of?"

"Ghoses. "

"Nonsense. I'll agree to lay every ghost you see!"

The little maid approached, candle in hand, but in such a gingerly sortof 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 theabyss. But this only made the horrible darkness "visible;" no objectcaught or reflected a single ray of light; all was black, hollow, voidand silent except the faint, deep, distant, roaring as of subterraneouswater!

Capitola pushed the light as far down as she could possibly reach, andthen, yielding to a strange fascination, dropped it into the abyss! Itwent down, down, down, down into the darkness, until far below itglimmered out of sight. Then with an awful shudder Capitola pulled upand fastened the trap-door, laid down the rug and said her prayers andwent to bed by the firelight, with little Pitapat sleeping on a pallet. The last thought of Cap, before falling to sleep, was:

"It is awful to go to bed over such a horrible mystery; but I will be ahero!"

CHAPTER XI. 

A MYSTERY AND A STORM AT HURRICANE HALL. 

 Bid her address her prayers to Heaven! Learn if she there may be forgiven; Its mercy may absolve her yet! But here upon this earth beneath There is no spot where she and I Together for an hour could breathe! --Byron. 

Early the next morning Capitola arose, made her toilet and went out toexplore the outer walls of her part of the old house, to discover, ifpossible, some external entrance into the unknown cavity under her room. It was a bright, cheerful, healthy autumnal morning, well adapted todispel all clouds of mystery and superstition. Heaps of crimson andgolden-hued leaves, glimmering with hoar frost, lay drifted against theold walls, and when these were brushed away by the busy hands of theyoung girl they revealed nothing but the old moldering foundation; not avestige of a cellar-door or window was visible. 

Capitola abandoned the fruitless search, and turned to go into thehouse. And saying to herself--

"I'll think no more of it! I dare say, after all, it is nothing but avery dark cellar without window and with a well, and the story of themurders and of the skeletons is all moonshine, " she ran into thedining-room and took her seat at the breakfast table. 

Old Hurricane was just then storming away at his factotum Wool for somemisdemeanor, the nature of which Capitola did not hear, for upon herappearance he suffered his wrath to subside in a few reverberating, lowthunders, gave his ward a grumphy "Good morning" and sat down to hisbreakfast. 

After breakfast Old Hurricane took his great-coat and old cocked hat andstormed forth upon the plantation to blow up his lazy overseer, Mr. WillEzy, and his idle negroes, who had loitered or frolicked away all thedays of their master's absence. 

Mrs. Condiment went away to mix a plum pudding for dinner, and Cap wasleft 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 littlestaircases back to her own chamber. 

The chamber looked quite different by daylight--the cheerful wood fireburning in the chimney right before her, opposite the door by which sheentered; the crimson draped windows, with the rich, old mahogany bureauand dressing-glass standing between them on her left; the polished, darkoak floor; the comfortable rocking chair; the new work-stand placedthere for her use that morning and her own well-filled trunks standingin the corners, looked altogether too cheerful to associate with darkthoughts. 

Besides, Capitola had not the least particle of gloom, superstition ormarvelousness in her disposition. She loved old houses and old legendswell enough to enjoy them; but was not sufficiently credulous tobelieve, or cowardly to fear, them. 

She had, besides, a pleasant morning's occupation before her, inunpacking her three trunks and arranging her wardrobe and herpossessions, which were all upon the most liberal scale, for MajorWarfield at every city where they had stopped had given his poor littleprotégée a virtual _carte blanche_ for purchases, having said to her:

"Capitola, I'm an old bachelor; I've not the least idea what a younggirl requires; all I know is, that you have nothing but your clothes, and must want sewing and knitting needles and brushes and scissors andcombs and boxes and smelling bottles and tooth powder and such. So comealong with me to one of those Vanity Fairs they call fancy stores andget what you want; I'll foot the bill. "

And Capitola, who firmly believed that she had the most sacred of claimsupon Major Warfield, whose resources she also supposed to be unlimited, did not fail to indulge her taste for rich and costly toys and suppliedherself with a large ivory dressing-case, lined with velvet andfurnished with ivory-handled combs and brushes, silver boxes and crystalbottles, a papier-mâché work-box, with gold thimble, needle-case andperforator and gold-mounted scissors and winders; and an ebonywriting-desk, with silver-mounted crystal standishes; each ofthese--boxes and desk--was filled with all things requisite in theseveral departments. And now as Capitola unpacked them and arranged themupon the top of her bureau, it was with no small degree of appreciation. The rest of the forenoon was spent in arranging the best articles of herwardrobe in her bureau drawers. 

Having locked the remainder in her trunks and carefully smoothed herhair, and dressed herself in a brown merino, she went down-stairs andsought out Mrs. Condiment, whom she found in the housekeeper's littleroom, and to whom she said:

"Now, Mrs. Condiment, if uncle has any needlework wanted to be done, anybuttons to be sewed on, or anything of that kind, just let me have it;I've got a beautiful work-box, and I'm just dying to use it. "

"My dear Miss Black----"

"Please to call me Capitola, or even Cap. I never was called Miss Blackin my life until I came here, and I don't like it at all!"

"Well, then, my dear Miss Cap, I wish you would wait till to-morrow, forI just came in here in a great hurry to get a glass of brandy out of thecupboard to put in the sauce for the plum-pudding, as dinner will be onthe table in ten minutes. "

With a shrug of her little shoulders, Capitola left the housekeeper'sroom and hurried through the central front hall and out at the frontdoor, to look about and breathe the fresh air for a while. 

As she stepped upon the front piazza she saw Major Warfield walking upthe steep lawn, followed by Wool, leading a pretty mottled iron-graypony, with a side-saddle on his back. 

"Ah, I'm glad you're down, Cap! Come! look at this pretty pony! he isgood for nothing as a working horse, and is too light to carry myweight, 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 shall goperfectly crazy with joy!" exclaimed Cap, dancing and clapping her handswith delight. 

"Oh, well, a tumble or two in learning will bring you back to yoursenses, I reckon!"

"Oh, uncle! oh, uncle! When shall I begin?"

"You shall take your first tumble immediately after dinner, when, beingwell filled, you will not be so brittle and apt to break in falling!"

"Oh, uncle! I shall not fall! I feel I shan't! I feel I've a naturalgift for holding on!"

"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 wassmoking upon the table. 

After dinner Cap, with Wool for a riding-master, took her first lessonin equestrianism. She had the four great requisites for forming a goodrider--a well-adapted figure, a fondness for the exercise, perfectfearlessness and presence of mind. She was not once in danger of losingher seat, and during that single afternoon's exercise she madeconsiderable progress in learning to manage her steed. 

Old Hurricane, whom the genial autumn afternoon had tempted out to smokehis pipe in his armchair on the porch, was a pleased spectator of herperformances, and expressed his opinion that in time she would becomethe best rider in the neighborhood, and that she should have the bestriding-dress and cap that could be made at Tip Top. 

Just now, in lack of an equestrian dress, poor Cap was parading aroundthe lawn with her head bare and her hair flying and her merino skirtexhibiting more ankles than grace. 

It was while Old Hurricane still sat smoking his pipe and making hiscomments and Capitola still ambled around and around the lawn that ahorseman suddenly appeared galloping as fast as the steep nature of theground would admit up toward the house, and before they could form anidea who he was the horse was at the block, and the rider dismounted andstanding before Major Warfield. 

"Why, Herbert, my boy, back so soon? We didn't expect you for a week tocome. This is sudden, indeed! So much the better! so much the better!Glad to see you, lad!" exclaimed Old Hurricane, getting up and heartilyshaking the hand of his nephew. 

Capitola came ambling up, and in the effort to spring nimbly from hersaddle tumbled off, much to the delight of Wool, who grinned from ear toear, and of Old Hurricane, who, with an "I said so, " burst into a roarof laughter. 

Herbert Greyson sprang to assist her; but before he reached the spot Caphad picked herself up, straightened her disordered dress, and now sheran to meet and shake hands with him. 

There was such a sparkle of joy and glow of affection in the meetingbetween these two that Old Hurricane, who saw it, suddenly hushed hislaugh and grunted to himself:

"Humph! humph! humph! I like that; that's better than I could haveplanned myself; let that go on, and then, Gabe Le Noir, we'll see underwhat name and head the old divided manor will be held!"

Before his mental soliloquy was concluded, Herbert and Capitola came upto him. He welcomed Herbert again with great cordiality, and then calledto his man to put up the horses, and bade the young people to follow himinto 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 gratitude--that--that I shortened myvisit and came away immediately to tell you. "

"Right, lad, right! You come by the down coach?"

"Yes, sir, and got off at Tip Top, where I hired a horse to bring mehere. I must ask you to let one of your men take him back to Mr. Merryat the Antler's Inn to-morrow. "

"Surely, surely, lad! Wool shall do it!"

"And so, Herbert, the poor woman was delighted at the prospect of bettertimes?" said Old Hurricane, with a little glow of benevolentself-satisfaction. 

"Oh, yes, sir; delighted beyond all measure!"

"Poor thing! poor thing! See, young folks, how easy it is for thewealthy, by sparing a little of their superfluous means, to make thepoor and virtuous happy! And the boy, Herbert, the boy?"

"Oh, sir! delighted for himself, but still more delighted for hismother; for her joy was such as to astonish and even alarm me! Beforethat I had thought Marah Rocke a proud woman, but----"

"What!--say that again!" exclaimed Major Warfield. "I say that I thoughtshe was a proud woman, but----"

"Thought who was a proud woman, sir?" roared Old Hurricane. 

"Marah Rocke!" replied the young man, with wonder. 

Major Warfield started up, seized the chair upon which he had sat andstruck 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 thatthe two young people gazed after him in consternation and fearfulexpectancy. Presently he turned suddenly, strode up to Herbert Greysonand stood before him. 

His face was purple, his veins swollen and they stood out upon hisforehead like cords, his eyes were protruded and glaring, his mouthclenched until the grizzly gray mustache and beard were drawn in, hiswhole huge frame was quivering from head to foot. It was impossible totell 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 that he wouldfall into a fit; but the old giant was too strong for that! For oneshort moment he stood thus, and in a terrible voice he asked:

"Young man, did you--did you know--the shame that you dashed into myface with the name of that woman?"

"Sir, I know nothing but that she is the best and dearest of her sex!"exclaimed Herbert, beyond all measure amazed at what he heard and saw. 

"Best and dearest!" thundered the old man. "Oh, idiot; is she still asiren, and are you a dupe? But that cannot be! No, sir! it is I whom youboth would dupe! Ah, I see it all now! This is why you artfullyconcealed her name from me until you had won my promise! It shall notserve either you or her, sir! I break my promise thus!" bending andsnapping his own cane and flinging the fragments behind his back. "There, sir! when you can make those ends of dry cedar grow togetheragain and bear green leaves, you may hope to reconcile Ira Warfield andMarah Rocke! I break my promise, sir, as she broke----"

The old man suddenly sank back into the nearest chair, dropped hisshaggy head and face into his hands and remained trembling from head tofoot, while the convulsive heaving of his chest and the rising andfalling of his huge shoulders betrayed that his heart was nearlybursting with such suppressed sobs as only can be forced from manhood bythe fiercest anguish. 

The young people looked on in wonder, awe and pity; and then their eyesmet--those of Herbert silently inquired:

"What can all this mean?" Those of Capitola mutely answered:

"Heaven only knows!"

In his deep pity for the old man's terrible anguish, Herbert could feelno shame or resentment for the false accusation made upon himself. Indeed, his noble and candid nature easily explained all as the ravingsof some heartrending remembrance. Waiting, therefore, until the violentconvulsions of the old man's frame had somewhat subsided, Herbert wentto him, and with a low and respectful inflection of voice, said:

"Uncle, if you think that there was any collusion between myself andMrs. Rocke you wrong us both. You will remember that when I met you inNew York I had not seen or heard from her for years, nor had I then anyexpectation of ever seeing you. The subject of the poor widow came upbetween us accidentally, and if it is true that I omitted to call her byname it must have been because we both then felt too tenderly by her tocall her anything else but 'the poor widow, the poor mother, the goodwoman, ' 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 with emotion:

"Herbert, I wronged you; forgive me. "

Herbert took and pressed that rugged and hairy old hand to his lips, andsaid:

"Uncle, I do not in the least know what is the cause of your presentemotion, but----"

"Emotion! Demmy, sir, what do you mean by emotion? Am I a man to giveway to emotion? Demmy, sir, mind what you say!" roared the old lion, getting up and shaking himself free of all weaknesses. 

"I merely meant to say, sir, that if I could possibly be of any serviceto you I am entirely at your orders. "

"Then go back to that woman and tell her never to dare to utter, or evento think of, my name again, if she values her life!"

"Sir, you do not mean it! and as for Mrs. Rocke, she is a good woman Ifeel it my duty to uphold!"

"Good! ugh! ugh! ugh! I'll command myself! I'll not give way again!Good! ah, lad, it is quite plain to me now that you are an innocentdupe. Tell me now, for instance, do you know anything of that woman'slife before she came to reside at Staunton?"

"Nothing; but from what I've seen of her since I'm sure she always wasgood. "

"Did she never mention her former life at all?"

"Never; but, mind, I hold to my faith in her, and would stake mysalvation on her integrity, " said Herbert, warmly. 

"Then you'd lose it, lad, that's all; but I have an explanation to maketo 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 tothe library, that was immediately back of the back drawing-room. 

Throwing himself into a leathern chair beside the writing-table, hemotioned for his companion to take the one on the opposite side. A lowfire smoldering on the hearth before them so dimly lighted the room thatthe young man arose again to pull the bell rope; but the otherinterrupted with:

"No, you need not ring for lights, Herbert! my story is one that shouldbe told in the dark. Listen, lad; but drop your eyes the while. "

"I am all attention, sir!"

"Herbert, the poet says that--

 "'At thirty 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 achieving themost sublime folly of my life. I should have taken a degree in madnessand 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 girlof sixteen out of a log cabin! merely, forsooth, because she had apearly skin like the leaf of the white japonica, soft gray eyes like atimid fawn's and a voice like a cooing turtle dove's! because thosedelicate cheeks flushed and those soft eyes fell when I spoke to her, and the cooing voice trembled when she replied! because the delicateface brightened when I came and faded when I turned away! 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 andmarried her--married her secretly, for fear of the ridicule of mybrother officers, put her in a pastoral log cabin in the woods below theblock-house and visited her there by stealth, like Numa did his nymph inthe cave. But I was watched; my hidden treasure was discovered andcoveted by a younger and prettier follow than myself. Perdition! Icannot tell this story in detail! One night I came home very late andquite unexpectedly and found--this man in my wife's cabin! I broke theman's head and ribs and left him for dead. I tore the woman out of myheart and cauterized its bleeding wounds. This man was Gabriel Le Noir!Satan burn him forever! This woman was Marah Rocke, God forgive her! Icould have divorced the woman, but as I did not dream of ever marryingagain, I did not care to drag my shame before a public tribunal. There!You know all! Let the subject sink forever!" said Old Hurricane, wipinggreat drops of sweat from his laboring brows. 

"Uncle, I have heard your story and believe you, of course. But I ambound to tell you that without even having heard your poor wife'sdefense, I believe and uphold her to be innocent! I think you have beenas grossly deceived as she has been fearfully wronged and that time andProvidence will prove this!" exclaimed Herbert, fervently. 

A horrible laugh of scorn was his only answer as Old Hurricane arose, shook himself and led the way back to the parlor. 

CHAPTER XII. 

MARAH'S DREAM. 

 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. --Whittier. 

On the same Saturday morning that Herbert Greyson hurried away from hisfriend's cottage, to travel post to Hurricane Hall, for the sole purposeof accelerating the coming of her good fortune, Marah Rocke walked aboutthe house with a step so light, with eyes so bright and cheeks soblooming, that one might have thought that years had rolled backward intheir course and made her a young girl again. 

Traverse gazed upon her in delight. Reversing the words of the text, hesaid:

"We must call you no longer Marah (which is bitter), but we must callyou Naomi (which is beautiful), mother!"

"Young flatterer!" she answered, smiling and slightly flushing. "Buttell me truly, Traverse, am I very much faded? Have care and toil andgrief made me look old?"

"You old?" exclaimed the boy, running his eyes over her beaming face andgraceful form with a look of non-comprehension that might have satisfiedher, but did not, for she immediately repeated:

"Yes; do I look old? Indeed I do not ask from vanity, child? Ah, itlittle becomes me to be vain; but I do wish to look well in some one'seyes. "

"I wish there was a looking-glass in the house, mother, that it mighttell you; you should be called Naomi instead of Marah. "

"Ah! that is just what he used to say to me in the old, happy time--thetime in Paradise, before the serpent entered!"

"What 'he, ' mother?"

"Your father, boy, of course. "

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 evenwhile her words referred darkly to the past, her eyes looked brightly tothe future. All this, taken with the events of the preceding evening, greatly bewildered the mind of Traverse and agitated him with thewildest conjectures. 

"Mother, will you tell me about my father, and also what it is beyondthis promised kindness of Major Warfield that has made you so happy?" heasked. 

"Not now, my boy; dear boy, not now. I must not--I cannot--I dare notyet! Wait a few days and you shall know all. Oh, it is hard to keep asecret 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, Traverse?"she asked, affectionately. 

"No, dear mother, of course I don't. I know you must be right, and I amglad to see you happy. "

"Happy! Oh, boy, you don't know how happy I am! I did not think anyhuman being could ever feel so joyful in this erring world, much lessme! One cause of this excess of joyful feeling must be from thecontrast; else it were dreadful to be so happy. "

"Mother, I don't know what you mean, " said Traverse uneasily, for he wastoo young to understand these paradoxes of feeling and thought, andthere 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! eighteen long, long, weary years ofpatience against anger and loving against hatred and hoping againstdespair! your young mind cannot grasp it! your very life is not so long!I was seventeen then; I am thirty-five now. And after wasting all myyoung years of womanhood in loving, hoping, longing--lo! the light oflife has dawned at last!"

"God save you, mother!" said the boy, fervently, for her wild, unnaturaljoy continued to augment his anxiety. 

"Ah, Traverse, I dare not tell you the secret now, and yet I am alwaysletting it out, because my heart overflows from its fulness. Ah, boy!many, many weary nights have I lain awake from grief; but last night Ilay awake from joy! Think of it!"

The boy's only reply to this was a deep sigh. He was becoming seriouslyalarmed. "I never saw her so excited! I wish she would get calm, " washis secret thought. Then, with the design of changing the current of herideas, he took off his coat and said:

"Mother, my pocket is half torn out, and though there's no danger of mylosing a great deal out of it, still I'll get you, please, to sew it inwhile I mend the fence!"

"Sew the pocket! mend the fence! Well!" smiled Mrs. Rocke; "we'll do soif it will amuse you. The mended fence will be a convenience to the nexttenant, and the patched coat will do for some poor boy. Ah, Traverse, wemust be very good to the poor, in more ways than in giving them what wedo 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 somewhatbetter satisfied. 

The delirium of happiness lasted intermittently a whole week, during thelast three days of which Mrs. Rocke was constantly going to the door andlooking up the road, as if expecting some one. The mail came fromTip-Top to Staunton only once a week--on Saturday mornings. Therefore, when Saturday came again, she sent her son to the post-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 hadto wait for the mail to be opened. 

Meanwhile, at home the widow walked the floor in restless, joyousanticipation, or went to the door and strained her eyes up the road towatch for Traverse, and perhaps for some one else's coming. At last shediscerned her son, who came down the road walking rapidly, smilingtriumphantly and holding a letter up to view. 

She ran out of the gate to meet him, seized and kissed the letter, andthen, with her face burning, her heart palpitating and her fingerstrembling, she hastened into the house, threw herself into the littlelow chair by the fire and opened the letter. It was from Herbert, andread thus:

 "Hurricane Hall, Nov. 30th, 1843. 

 "My Dearest and Best Mrs. Rocke--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 Greyson. 

 "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, andthen she arose, and with her trembling fingers clinging together, walkedup and down the floor. 

There were no tears in her eyes, but, oh! such a look of unutterable woeon 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 passedover her in this dread hour!

Cautiously he approached her, gently he laid his hand upon her shoulder, tenderly he whispered:

"Mother!"

She turned and looked strangely at him, then exclaiming:

"Oh, Traverse, how happy I was this day week!" She burst into a flood oftears. 

Traverse threw his arm around his mother's waist and half coaxed andhalf bore her to her low chair and sat her in it and knelt by her sideand, embracing her fondly, whispered:

"Mother, don't weep so bitterly! You have me; am I nothing? Mother, Ilove 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 theworld to you! I can be it, mother; I can be it; try me! I will makeevery 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 formother or man for woman before! Dear mother, if you will not break myheart by weeping so!"

The sobbing abated a little, partly from exhaustion and partly from thesoothing influences of the boy's loving words. 

"Listen, dear mother, what I will do! In the olden times of chivalry, young knights bound themselves by sacred vows to the service of somelady, and labored long and perilously in her honor. For her, blood wasspilled; for her, fields were won; but, mother, never yet toiled knightin the battlefield for his lady-love as I will in the battle of life formy 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 youngyet--both you and I! for, after all, you are not much older than yourson; and we two will journey up and down the hills of life together--allin all to each other; and when at last we are old, as we shall be whenyou are seventy-seven and I am sixty, we will leave all our fortune thatwe 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 up and smiled at the oddityof her Ishmael's far-reaching thought. 

In that poor household grief might not be indulged. Marah Rocke tookdown her work-basket and sat down to finish a lot of shirts, andTraverse went out with his horse and saw to look for a job at cuttingwood for twenty-five cents a cord. Small beginnings of the fortune thatwas to found and endow asylums! but many a fortune has been commencedupon less!

Marah Rocke had managed to dismiss her boy with a smile, but that wasthe last effort of nature; as soon as he was gone and she found herselfalone, tear after tear welled up in her eyes and rolled down her palecheeks; sigh after sigh heaved her bosom. 

Ah! the transitory joy of the past week had been but the lightning'sarrowy course scathing where it illumined!

She felt as if this last blow that had struck her down from the heightof hope to the depth of despair had broken her heart, as if the power ofreaction was gone, and she mourned as one who would not be comforted. 

While she sat thus the door opened, and before she was aware of hispresence, 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 andbowed his young head lowly over the hand that he took and pressed to hislips. Then he arose and stood before her. This was not unnatural orexaggerated; it was his way of expressing the reverential sympathy andcompassion he felt for her strange, life-long martyrdom. 

"Herbert, you here? Why, we only got your letter this morning, " shesaid, in tones of gentle inquiry, as she arose and placed a chair forhim. 

"Yes, I could not bear to stay away from you at such a time; I came upin the same mail-coach that brought my letter; but I kept myself out ofTraverse's sight, for I could not bear to intrude upon you in the firsthour of your disappointment, " said Herbert, in a broken voice. 

"Oh, that need not have kept you away, dear boy! I did not cry much; Iam used to trouble, you know; I shall get over this also--after a littlewhile--and things will go on in the old way, " said Marah Rocke, struggling to repress the rising emotion that, however, overcame her, for, dropping her head upon her "sailor boy's" shoulder, she burst intoa flood of tears and wept plenteously. 

"Dear mother, be comforted!" he said; "dear mother, be comforted!"

CHAPTER 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 bronzedand grizzled old man, who has, besides, treated you so barbarously, "said Herbert. 

"Is he bronzed and gray?" asked Marah, looking up with gentle pity inher eyes and tone. 

"Why, of course he is. He is sixty-two. "

"He was forty-five when I first knew him, and he was very handsome then. At least, I thought him the very perfection of manly strength and beautyand 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 own early life, " said Marah, dropping her headupon her hand and sliding into reminiscences of the past. 

"Dear Marah, I wish you would tell me all about your marriage andmisfortunes, " said Herbert, in a tone of the deepest sympathy andrespect. 

"Yes, he was very handsome, " continued Mrs. Rocke, speaking more toherself than to her companion; "his form was tall, full and stately; hiscomplexion warm, rich and glowing; his fine face was lighted up by apair of strong, dark-gray eyes, full of fire and tenderness, and wassurrounded by waving masses of jet-black hair and whiskers; they aregray now, you say, Herbert?"

"Gray and grizzled, and bristling up around his hard face likethorn-bushes around a rock in winter!" said Herbert, bluntly, for itenraged his honest but inexperienced boyish heart to hear this wrongedwoman speak so enthusiastically. 

"Ah! it is winter with him now; but then it was glorious Indian summer!He was a handsome, strong and ardent man. I was a young, slight, palegirl, with no beauty but the cold and colorless beauty of a statue; withno learning but such as I had picked up from a country school; with nolove to bless my lonely life--for I was a friendless orphan, withouteither parents or relatives, and living by sufferance in a cold andloveless home. "

"Poor girl!" murmured Herbert, in almost inaudible tones. 

"Our log cabin stood beside the military road leading through thewilderness to the fort where he was stationed. And, oh! when he cameriding by each day upon his noble, coal-black steed and in his martialuniform, looking so vigorous, handsome and kingly, he seemed to mealmost a god to worship! Sometimes he drew rein in front of the old oaktree that stood in front of our cabin to breathe his horse or to ask fora draught of water. I used to bring it to him. Oh! then, when he lookedat me, his eyes seemed to send new warmth to my chilled heart; when hespoke, too, his tones seemed to strengthen me; while he stayed hispresence seemed to protect me!"

"Aye, such protection as vultures give to doves--covering and devouringthem, " muttered Herbert to himself. Mrs. Rocke, too absorbed in herreminiscences to heed his interruptions, continued:

"One day he asked me to be his wife. I do not know what I answered. Ionly know that when I understood what he meant, my heart trembled withinstinctive terror at its own excessive joy! We were privately marriedby the chaplain at the fort. There were no accommodations for the wivesof officers there. And, besides, my husband did not wish to announce ourmarriage until he was ready to take me to his princely mansion inVirginia. "

"Humph!" grunted Herbert inwardly, for comment. 

"But he built for me a pretty cabin in the woods below the fort, furnished it simply and hired a half-breed Indian woman to wait on me. Oh, 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 whichenjoins the husband to cherish his wife. I do not believe many peopleever stop to think how much is in that word. He did; he cherished mylittle, thin, chill, feeble life until I became strong, warm andhealthful. Oh! even as the blessed sun warms and animates and glorifiesthe earth, causing it to brighten with life and blossom with flowers andbloom with fruit, so did my husband enrich and cherish and bless mylife! 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 notlook incredulous or hope to cast all the blame on him! Listen: Happy, grateful, adoring as I was, I was also shy, timid and bashful--neverproving the deep love I bore my husband except by the most perfectself-abandonment to his will. All this deep, though quiet, devotion heunderstood as mere passive obedience void of love. As this continued hegrew uneasy, and often asked me if I cared for him at all, or if it werepossible 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 thisnever satisfied Major Warfield. One day, when he asked me if I cared forhim the least in the world, I suddenly answered that if he were to die Ishould throw myself across his grave and lie there until death shouldrelease me! whereupon he broke into a loud laugh, saying, 'Methinks thelady doth protest too much. ' I was already blushing deeply at theunwonted vehemence of my own words, although I had spoken only as Ifelt--the very, very truth. But his laugh and his test so increased myconfusion that, in fine, that was the first and last time I ever didprotest! Like Lear's Cordelia, I was tongue-tied--I had no words toassure him. Sometimes I wept to think how poor I was in resources tomake him happy. Then came another annoyance--my name and fame werefreely discussed at the fort. "

"A natural consequence, " sighed Herbert. 

"The younger officers discovered my woodland home, and often stole outto reconnoitre my calm. Among them was Captain Le Noir, who, after hehad discovered my retreat, picked acquaintance with Lura, my attendant. Making the woodland sports his pretext, he haunted the vicinity of mycabin, often stopping at the door to beg a cup of water, which, ofcourse, was never denied, or else to offer a bunch of partridges or abrace of rabbits or some other game, the sports of his gun, whichequally, of course, was never accepted. One beautiful morning in June, finding my cabin door open and myself alone, he ventured unbidden acrossmy threshold, and by his free conversation and bold admiration offendedand alarmed me. Some days afterward, in the mess-room at the fort, beingelevated by wine, he boasted among his messmates of the intimate termsof friendly acquaintance upon which he falsely asserted that he had thepleasure of standing with 'Warfield's pretty little favorite, ' as heinsolently called me. When my husband heard of this I learned for thefirst time the terrific violence of his temper. It was awful! itfrightened me almost to death. There was a duel, of course. Le Noir wasvery dangerously wounded, scarred across the face for life, and wasconfined many weeks to his bed. Major Warfield was also slightly hurtand laid up at the fort for a few days, during which I was not permittedto see him. "

"Is it possible that even then he did not see your danger andacknowledge your marriage and call you to his bedside?" inquiredHerbert, impatiently. 

"No, no! if he had all after suffering had been spared. No! at the endof four days he came back to me; but we met only for bitter reproacheson his part and sorrowful tears on mine. He charged me with coldness, upon account of the disparity in our years, and of the preference forCaptain Le Noir, because he was a pretty fellow, I knew this was nottrue of me. I knew that I loved my husband's very footprints better thanI 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 ofutterance! There he stood before me! he that had been so ruddy andbuoyant, now so pale from loss of blood, and so miserable, that I couldhave fallen and groveled at his feet in sorrow and remorse at not beingable to make him happy!"

"There are some persons whom we can never make happy. It is not in themto be so, " commented Herbert. 

"He made me promise never to see or to speak to Le Noir again--a promiseeagerly given but nearly impossible to keep. My husband spent as muchtime with me as he possibly could spare from his military duties, andlooked forward with impatience to the autumn, when it was thought thathe would be at liberty to take me home. He often used to tell me that weshould spend our Christmas at his house, Hurricane Hall, and that Ishould play Lady Bountiful and distribute Christmas gifts to the negroesand that they would love me. And, oh! with what joy I anticipated thattime of honor and safety and careless ease, as an acknowledged wife, inthe home of my husband! There, too, I fondly believed, our child wouldbe born. All his old tenderness returned for me, and I was as happy, ifnot as wildly joyful, as at first. "

"'Twas but a lull in the storm, " said Herbert. 

"Aye! 'twas but a lull in the storm, or, rather, before the storm! I dothink that from the time of that duel Le Noir had resolved upon ourruin. As soon as he was able to go out he haunted the woods around mycabin and continually lay in wait for me. I could not go out even in thecompany of my maid Lura to pick blackberries or wild plums or gatherforest roses, or to get fresh water at the spring, without beingintercepted by Le Noir and his offensive admiration. He seemed to beubiquitous! He met me everywhere--except in the presence of MajorWarfield. I did not tell my husband, because I feared that if I did hewould have killed Le Noir and died for the deed. "

"Humph! it would have been 'good riddance of bad rubbish' in bothcases, " muttered Herbert, under his teeth. 

"But instead of telling him I confined myself strictly to my cabin. Onefatal day my husband, on leaving me in the morning, said that I need notwait 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 beddisappointed, yet still so expectant that I could not sleep. I know nothow long I had waited thus, or how late it was when I heard a tap at theouter door, and heard the bolt undrawn and a footstep enter and a lowvoice asking:

"Is she asleep?" and Lura's reply in the affirmative. Never doubting itwas my husband, I lay there in pleased expectation of his entrance. Hecame in and began to take off his coat in the dark. I spoke, telling himthat there were matches on the bureau. He did not reply, at which I wassurprised; but before I could repeat my words the outer door was burstviolently open, hurried footsteps crossed the entry, a light flashedinto my room, my husband stood in the door in full military uniform, with a light in his hand and the aspect of an avenging demon on hisbrow, and----

"Horror upon horrors! the half-undressed man in my chamber was CaptainLe Noir! I saw and swooned away!"

"But you were saved! you were saved!" gasped Herbert, white withemotion. 

"Oh, I was saved, but not from sorrow--not from shame! I awoke from thatdeadly swoon to find myself alone, deserted, cast away! Oh, torn outfrom the warmth and light and safety of my husband's heart, and hurledforth shivering, faint and helpless upon the bleak world! and all thisin 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; thatone fell stroke of fate cleft the rock of silence in my soul, and thefountain of utterance gushed freely forth! I wrote to him, but myletters might as well have been dropped into a well. I went to him, butwas spurned away. I prayed him with tears to have pity on our unbornbabe; but he laughed aloud in scorn and called it by an opprobriousname! Letters, prayers, tears, were all in vain. He never hadacknowledged our marriage; he now declared that he never would do so; hediscarded me, disowned my child and forbade us ever to take his name!"

"Oh, Marah! and you but seventeen years of age! without a father or abrother or a friend in the world to employ an advocate!" exclaimedHerbert, covering his face with his hands and sinking back. 

"Nor would I have used any of these agencies had I possessed them! If mywifehood and motherhood, my affections and my helplessness were notadvocates strong enough to win my cause, I could not have borne toemploy others!"

"Oh, Marah, with none to pity or to help; it was monstrous to haveabandoned you so!"

"No; hush! consider the overwhelming evidence against me; I consideredit even in the tempest and whirlwind of my anguish, and never onceblamed and never once was angry with my husband; for I knew--not life, but the terrible circumstantial evidence had ruined me!"

"Ay, but did you not explain it to him?"

"How could I, alas! when I did not understand it myself? How Le Noirknew that Major Warfield was not expected home that fatal night--how hegot into my house, whether by conspiring with my little maid or bydeceiving her--or, lastly, how Major Warfield came to burst in upon himso suddenly, I did not know, and do not to this day. "

"But you told Major Warfield all that you have told me?"

"Oh, yes! again and again, calling heaven to witness my truth! In vain!he had seen with his own eyes, he said. Against all I could say or dothere was built up a wall of scornful incredulity, on which I might havedashed my brains out to no purpose. "

"Oh, Marah, Marah! with none to pity or to save!" again exclaimedHerbert. 

"Yes, " said the meek creature, bowing her head; "God pitied and helpedme! First he sent me a son that grew strong and handsome in body, goodand wise in soul. Then He kept alive in my heart faith and hope andcharity. He enabled me, through long years of unremitting andill-requited toil, to live on, loving against anger, waiting againsttime, and hoping against despair!"

"Why did you leave your western home and come to Staunton, Marah?" askedHerbert. 

"To be where I could sometimes hear of my husband without intruding onhim. I took your widowed mother in, because she was his sister, though Inever told her who I was, lest she should wrong and scorn me, as he haddone. When she died I cherished you, Herbert, first because you were hisnephew, but now, dear boy, for your own sake also. "

"And I, while I live, will be a son to you, madam! I will be yourconstant friend at Hurricane Hall. He talks of making me his heir. Should he persist in such blind injustice, the day I come into theproperty I shall turn it all over to his widow and son. But I do notbelieve 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, andHis will is surely the best! Yes, Herbert, I also hope--beyond thegrave!" said Marah Rocke, with a wan smile. 

The little clock that stood between the tall, plated candlesticks on themantelpiece 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 haslost, and above all, I do not wish him to be prejudiced against hisfather. "

"You are right, Marah, " said Herbert, "for if he were told, the naturalindignation that your wrongs would arouse in his heart would totallyunfit him to meet his father in a proper spirit in that event for whichI still hope--a future and a perfect family union!"

 * * * * *

Herbert Greyson remained a week with his friends, during which time hepaid the quarter's rent, and relieved his adopted mother of that causeof anxiety. Then he took leave and departed for Hurricane Hall, on hisway to Washington City, where he was immediately going to pass hisexamination and await his appointment. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

THE WASTING HEART. 

 Then she took up the burden of life again Saying only, "It might have been. " Alas for them both, 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 crossedand vanished from Marah Rocke's path of life was never mentioned again. Mother and son went about their separate tasks. Traverse worked at jobsall day, studied at night and went twice a week to recite his lessons tohis 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 hercheeks grew paler, her form thinner, her step fainter. Her son saw thisdecline with great alarm. Sometimes he found her in a deep, troubledreverie, from which she would awaken with heavy sighs. Sometimes hesurprised her in tears. At such times he did not trouble her withquestions 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 andlaid her face against his breast and whispered assurances of "his truelove" and his boyish hopes of "getting on, " of "making a fortune" andbringing "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 shewould "get over it soon. "

But as day followed day, she grew visibly thinner and weaker; darkshadows settled under her hollow eyes and in her sunken cheeks. Oneevening, while standing at the table washing up their little teaservice, she suddenly dropped into her chair and fainted. Nothing couldexceed the alarm and distress of poor Traverse. He hastened to fix herin an easy position, bathed her face in vinegar and water, the onlyrestoratives in their meager stock, and called upon her by every lovingepithet to live and speak to him. The fit yielded to his efforts, andpresently, with a few fluttering inspirations, her breath returned andher eyes opened. Her very first words were attempts to reassure herdismayed boy. But Traverse could no more be flattered. He entreated hismother to go at once to bed. And though the next morning, when shearose, she looked not worse than usual, Traverse left home with a heartfull of trouble. But instead of turning down the street to go to hiswork in the town he turned up the street toward the wooded hills beyond, now glowing in their gorgeous autumn foliage and burning in thebrilliant morning sun. 

A half-hour's walk brought him to a high and thickly wooded hill, upwhich a private road led through a thicket of trees to a handsomegraystone country seat, situated in the midst of beautifully ornamentedgrounds and known as Willow Heights, the residence of Dr. William Day, aretired physician of great repute, and a man of earnest piety. He was awidower with one fair daughter, Clara, a girl of fourteen, then absentat boarding-school. Traverse had never seen this girl, but his one greatadmiration was the beautiful Willow Heights and its worthy proprietor. He opened the highly ornate iron gate and entered up an avenue ofwillows that led up to the house, a two-storied edifice of graystone, with full-length front piazzas above and below. 

Arrived at the door he rang the bell, which was answered promptly by agood-humored-looking negro boy, who at once showed Traverse to thelibrary up-stairs, where the good doctor sat at his books. Dr. Day wasat this time about fifty years of age, tall and stoutly built, with afine head and face, shaded by soft, bright flaxen hair and beard:thoughtful and kindly dark-blue eyes, and an earnest, penetrating smilethat reached like sunshine the heart of any one upon whom it shone. Hewore a cheerful-looking flowered chintz dressing-gown corded around hiswaist; his feet were thrust into embroidered slippers, and he sat in hiselbow-chair at his reading-table poring over a huge folio volume. Thewhole aspect of the man and of his surroundings was kindly cheerfulness. The room opened upon the upper front piazza, and the windows were all upto admit the bright, morning sun and genial air, at the same time thatthere was a glowing fire in the grate to temper its chilliness. Traverse's soft step across the carpeted floor was not heard by thedoctor, who was only made aware of his presence by his stepping betweenthe sunshine and his table. Then the doctor arose, and with his intensesmile extended his hand and greeted the boy with:

"Well, Traverse, lad, you are always welcome! I did not expect you untilnight, as usual, but as you are here, so much the better. Got yourexercises all ready, eh? Heaven bless you, lad, what is the matter?"inquired the good man, suddenly, on first observing the boy's deeplytroubled looks. 

"My mother sir! my mother!" was all that Traverse could at first utter. 

"Your mother! My dear lad, what about her? Is she ill?" inquired thedoctor, with interest. 

"Oh, sir, I am afraid she is going to die?" exclaimed the boy in achoking voice, struggling hard to keep from betraying his manhood bybursting into tears. 

"Going to die! Oh, pooh, pooh, pooh! she is not going to die, lad. Tellme all about it, " said the doctor in an encouraging tone. 

"She has had so much grief and care and anxiety, sir--doctor, is thereany such malady as a broken heart?"

"Broken heart? Pooh, pooh! no, my child, no! never heard of such a thingin thirty years' medical experience! Even that story of a porter whobroke his heart trying to lift a ton of stone is all a fiction. No sucha disease as a broken heart. But tell me about your mother. "

"It is of her that I am talking. She has had so much trouble in herlife, and now I think she is sinking under it; she has been failing forweeks, and last night while washing the teacups she fainted away fromthe table!"

"Heaven help us! that looks badly, " 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 todie, 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 workhard and make her comfortable and happy, so as to make up to her for allshe has suffered, is my greatest wish and endeavor! Oh, don't say motherwill die! it would ruin me!" cried Traverse. 

"My dear boy, I don't say anything of the sort! I say, judging from youraccount, that her health must be attended to immediately. And--true Ihave 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. Ishould not have presumed to ask such a favor for any cause but this ofmy dear mother's life and health, and--you will go to see her?"

"Willingly and without delay, Traverse, " said the good man, risingimmediately and hurrying into an adjoining chamber. 

"Order the gig while I dress, Traverse, and I will take you back withme, " he added, as he closed the chamber door behind him. 

By the time Traverse had gone down, given the necessary orders andreturned to the library the doctor emerged from his chamber, buttoned uphis gray frock-coat and booted, gloved and capped for the ride. 

They went down together, entered the gig and drove rapidly down thewillow avenue, slowly through the iron gate and through the dark thicketand down the wooded hill to the high road, and then as fast as thesorrel mare could trot toward town. In fifteen minutes the doctor pulledup 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 thedoctor. They found Mrs. Rocke, as usual, seated in her low chair by thelittle fire, bending over her needlework. She looked up with surprise asthey 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 eyesto the stranger's face, where they met that sweet, intense smile thatseemed to encourage while it shone upon her. 

"We have never met before, Mrs. Rocke, but we both feel too muchinterest in this good lad here to meet as strangers now, " said thedoctor, extending his hand. 

"Traverse gives me every day fresh cause to be grateful to you, sir, forkindness that we can never, never repay, " said Marah Rocke, pressingthat bountiful hand and then placing a chair, which the doctor took. 

Traverse seated himself at a little distance, and as the doctorconversed with and covertly examined his mother's face he watched thedoctor's countenance as if life and death hung upon the character of itsexpression. But while they talked not one word was said upon the subjectof sickness or medicine. They talked of Traverse. The doctor assured hismother that her boy was of such fine talent, character and promise, andthat he had already made such rapid progress in his classical andmathematical studies, that he ought immediately to enter upon a courseof reading for one of the learned professions. 

The mother turned a smile full of love, pride and sorrow upon the fine, intellectual face of her boy, and said:

"You are like the angel in Cole's picture of life! You point the youthto 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 yourchoice which of the learned professions would you prefer foryourself--law, physic or divinity?"

The boy looked up and smiled, then dropped his head and seemed toreflect. 

"Perhaps you have never thought upon the subject. Well, you must taketime, 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 andfirmly decided, were I only free to follow it. "

"Speak, lad; what is your choice?"

"Why, don't you know, sir? Can't you guess? Why, your own profession, ofcourse, sir! certainly, sir, I could not think of any other!" exclaimedthe boy, with sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks. 

"That's my own lad!" exclaimed the doctor, enthusiastically, seizing theboy's hand with one of his and clapping the other down upon hispalm--for if the doctor had an admiration in the world it was for hisown profession. "That's my own lad! My profession! the healing art! Why, it is the only profession worthy the study of an immortal being! Lawsets people by the ears together. Divinity should never be considered asa profession--it is a divine mission! Physic--physic, my boy! thehealing art! that's the profession for you! And I am very glad to hearyou 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! Traverse shall comeand read medicine in my office! I shall be glad to have the lad there. It will amuse me to give him instruction occasionally. I have a positivemania for teaching!"

"And for doing good! Oh, sir, how have we deserved this kindness at yourhands, and how shall we ever, ever repay it?" cried Mrs. Rocke, in abroken 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 becrushed under a cart-load of thanks for doing something for a boy Ilike, when it does not cost me a cent of money or a breath of effort!"

"Oh, sir, your generous refusal of our thanks does but deepen ourobligation!" said Marah, still weeping. 

"Now, my dear madam, will you persist in making me confess that it isall selfishness on my part? I like the boy, I tell you! I shall like hisbright, 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 myaccounts, write my letters, drive out with me and sit in the rig while Igo in to visit my patients, for though I have pretty much retired frompractice, still----"

"Still you visit and prescribe for the sick poor, gratis!" added Marah, feelingly. 

"Pooh, pooh! habit, madam--habit! 'ruling passion strong as death, ' etc. I can't 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. Traverse, my lad--my young medical assistant, I mean--are you willing togo 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 intothe 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 him, when he good-humoredly interrupted her bysaying:

"Now my good little woman, do pray, hush. I'm a selfish fellow, asyou'll see. I do nothing but what pleases my own self and makes mehappy. Good-by; God bless you, madam, " he said, cordially shaking herhand. "Come, Traverse, " he added, hurriedly striding out of the door andthrough the yard to the gate, before which the old green gig and sorrelmare were still waiting. 

"Traverse, I brought you out again to-day more especially to speak ofyour mother and her state of health, " said Doctor Day, very seriously, as they both took their seats in the gig and drove on toward the town. "Traverse, your mother is in no immediate danger of death; in fact, shehas no disease whatever. "

"Oh, sir, you do not think her ill, then! I thought you did not, fromthe fact that you never felt her pulse or gave her a prescription, "exclaimed Traverse, delightedly, for in one thing the lad resembled hismother--he was sensitive and excitable--easily depressed and easilyexhilarated. 

"Traverse, I said your mother is in no immediate danger of death, forthat, 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 isstarving!"

"Starving! Heaven of heavens! no! that is not so! it cannot be! Mymother starving! oh, horrible! horrible! But, doctor, it cannot--cannotbe! Why, we have two meals a day at our house!" cried the boy, almostbeside himself with agitation. 

"Lad, there are other starvations besides the total lack of food. Thereare slow starvations and divers ones. Marah Rocke is starving slowly andin every way--mind, soul and body. Her body is slowly wasting from thewant of proper nutriment, her heart from the want of human sympathy, hermind from the need of social intercourse. Her whole manner of life mustbe changed if she is to live at all. "

"Oh, sir, I understand you now. I feel, I feel that you speak the verytruth. Something must be done. I must do something. What shall it be?Oh, advise me, sir. "

"I must reflect a little, Traverse, " said the doctor, thoughtfully, ashe drove along with very slack reins. 

"And, oh, how thoughtless of me! I forgot--indeed, I did, sir--when I sogladly accepted your offer for me to read with you. I forgot that if Ispent every day reading in your office, my mother would sadly miss thedollar and a half a week I make by doing odd jobs in town. "

"But I did not forget it, boy; rest easy upon that score; and now let mereflect how we can best serve your good little mother, " said the doctor;and he drove slowly and thoughtfully along for about twenty minutesbefore he spoke again, when he said:

"Traverse, Monday is the first of the month. You shall set in with methen. Come to me, therefore, on Monday, and I think by that time I shallhave thought upon some plan for your mother. In the mean time, you makeas much money at jobs as you can, and also you must accept from me forher a bottle or so of port wine and a turkey or two. Tell her, if shedemurs, that it is the doctor's prescription, and that, for fear ofaccident, 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 we are at Spicer'sgrocery store, where I suppose you are again employed. Yes? Well, jumpout, 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 thattime I shall have some plan arranged for your mother. Good-by; God blessyou, lad, " said the good doctor, as he drove off and left Traversestanding in the genial autumn sunshine, with his heart swelling and hiseyes overflowing with excess of gratitude and happiness. 

CHAPTER XV. 

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. "

Capitola at first was delighted and half incredulous at the great changein her fortunes. The spacious and comfortable mansion of which she foundherself the little mistress; the high rank of the veteran officer whoclaimed her as his ward and niece; the abundance, regularity andrespectability of her new life; the leisure, the privacy, the attendanceof servants, were all so different from anything to which she hadpreviously been accustomed that there were times when she doubted itsreality and distrusted her own identity. 

Sometimes of a morning, after a very vivid dream of the alleys, cellarsand gutters, ragpickers, newsboys, and beggars of New York, she wouldopen her eyes upon her own comfortable chamber, with its glowing fireand crimson curtains, and bright mirror crowning the walnut bureaubetween them, she would jump up and gaze wildly around, not rememberingwhere she was or how she came thither. 

Sometimes, suddenly startled by an intense realization of the contrastbetween her past and her present life, she would mentally inquire:

"Can this be really I, myself, and not another? I, the little houselesswanderer through the streets and alleys of New York? I, the littlenewsgirl in boy's clothes? I, the wretched little vagrant that wasbrought up before the recorder and was about to be sent to the House ofRefuge for juvenile delinquents? Can this be I, Capitola, the littleoutcast of the city, now changed into Miss Black, the young lady, perhaps the heiress of a fine old country seat; calling a fine oldmilitary officer uncle; having a handsome income of pocket money settledupon me; having carriages and horses and servants to attend me? No; itcan't be! It's just impossible! No; I see how it is. I'm crazy! that'swhat I am, crazy! For, now I think of it, the last thing I remember ofmy former life was being brought before the recorder for wearing boy'sclothes. Now, I'm sure that it was upon that occasion that I wentsuddenly mad with trouble, and all the rest is a lunatic's fancy! Thisfine old country seat of which I vainly think myself the mistress, isjust the pauper madhouse to which the magistrates have sent me. Thisfine old military officer whom I call uncle is the head doctor. Theservants who come at my call are the keepers. 

"There is no figure out of my past life in my present one except HerbertGreyson. But, pshaw! he is not 'the nephew of his uncle;' he is only myold comrade, Herbert Greyson, the sailor lad, who comes here to themadhouse 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 getcured, I'm sure. I hope they won't cure me; I vow I won't be cured. It'sa great deal too pleasant to be mad, and I'll stay so. I'll keep oncalling myself Miss Black, and this madhouse my country seat, and thehead 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 bemad. I'm too sharp for that. I didn't grow up in Rag Alley, New York, for nothing. "

So, half in jest and half in earnest, Capitola soliloquized upon herchange of fortune. 

Her education was commenced, but progressed rather irregularly. OldHurricane bought her books and maps, slates and copy-books, set herlessons in grammar, geography and history, and made her write copies, dosums and read and recite lessons to him. Mrs. Condiment taught her themysteries of cutting and basting, back-stitching and felling, hemmingand seaming. A pupil as sharp as Capitola soon mastered her tasks, andfound herself each day with many hours of leisure with which she did notknow what to do. 

These hours were at first occupied with exploring the old house, withall its attics, cuddies, cock-lofts and cellars; then in wanderingthrough the old ornamental grounds, that were, even in winter and intotal neglect, beautiful with their wild growth of evergreens; thenceshe extended her researches into the wild and picturesque countryaround. 

She was never weary of admiring the great forest that climbed theheights of the mountains behind their house; the great bleak precipicesof gray rock seen through the leafless branches of the trees; the ruggedfalling ground that 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 andthe river; she was forbidden to ford the one or climb the other. Perhapsif such a prohibition had never been made Capitola would never havethought of doing the one or the other; but we all know the diabolicalfascination there is in forbidden pleasures for young human nature. Andno sooner had Cap been commanded, if she valued her safety, not to crossthe water or climb the precipice than, as a natural consequence, shebegan to wonder what was in the valley behind the mountain and whatmight be in the woods across the river. And she longed, above allthings, to explore and find out for herself. She would eagerly have doneso, notwithstanding the prohibition; but Wool, who always attended herrides, was sadly in the way. If she could only get rid of Wool, sheresolved 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 brightestsmiles before passing away. In a word, it was Indian summer. The beautyof the weather had tempted Old Hurricane to ride to the county seat onparticular 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 himaround. 

"My dear, what do you want with your horse? There is no one to attendyou; Wool has gone with his master, " said Mrs. Condiment, as she metCapitola in the hall, habited for her ride. 

"I know that; but I cannot be mewed up here in the old house anddeprived of my afternoon ride, " exclaimed Capitola decidedly. 

"But, my dear, you must never think of riding out alone, " exclaimed thedismayed Mrs. Condiment. 

"Indeed I shall, though--and glad of the opportunity, " added Cap, mentally. 

"But, my dear love, it is improper, imprudent, dangerous. "

"Why so?" asked Cap. 

"Good gracious, upon every account! Suppose you were to meet withruffians; suppose--oh, heaven!--suppose you were to meet with--BlackDonald!"

"Mrs. Condiment, once for all do tell me who this terrible Black Donaldis? Is he the Evil One himself, or the Man in the Iron Mask, or theindividual that struck Billy Patterson, or--who is he?"

"Who is Black Donald? Good gracious, child, you ask me who is BlackDonald!"

"Yes; who is he? where is he? what is he? that every cheek turns pale atthe mention of his name?" asked Capitola. 

"Black Donald! Oh, my child, may you never know more of Black Donaldthan I can tell you. Black Donald is the chief of a band of ruthlessdesperadoes that infest these mountain roads, robbing mail coaches, stealing negroes, breaking into houses and committing every sort ofdepredation. Their hands are red with murder and their souls black withdarker crimes. "

"Darker crimes than murder!" ejaculated Capitola. 

"Yes, child, yes; there are darker crimes. Only last winter he and threeof his gang broke into a solitary house where there was a lone woman andher daughter, and--it is not a story for you to hear; but if the peoplehad caught Black Donald then they would have burned him at the stake!His life is forfeit by a hundred crimes. He is an outlaw, and a heavyprice 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 veryhaunts are unknown, but are supposed to be in concealed mountaincaverns. "

"How I would like the glory of capturing Black Donald!" said Capitola. 

"You, child! You capture Black Donald! You are crazy!"

"Oh, by stratagem, I mean, not by force. Oh, how I should like tocapture Black Donald!--There's my horse; good-by!" and before Mrs. Condiment could raise another objection Capitola ran out, sprang intoher saddle and was seen careering down the hill toward the river as fastas her horse could fly. 

"My Lord, but the major will be hopping if he finds it out!" was goodMrs. Condiment's dismayed exclamation. 

Rejoicing in her freedom, Cap galloped down to the water's edge, andthen walked her horse up and down along the course of the stream untilshe found a good fording place. Then, gathering up her riding skirt andthrowing it over the neck of her horse she plunged boldly into thestream, and, with the water splashing and foaming all around her, urgedhim onward till they crossed the river and climbed up the opposite bank. A bridle-path lay before her, leading from the fording place through adeep wood. That path attracted her; she followed it, charmed alike bythe solitude of the wood, the novelty of the scene and her own sense offreedom. But one thought was given to the story of Black Donald, andthat was a reassuring one:

"If Black Donald is a mail robber, then this little bridle-path is farenough off his beat. "

And, so saying, she gayly galloped along, singing as she went, followingthe narrow path up hill and down dale through the wintry woods. Drawn onby the attraction of the unknown, and deceiving herself by the continuedrepetition of one resolve, namely--"When I get to the top of the nexthill, and see what lies beyond, then I will turn back"--she galloped onand on, on and on, on and on, until she had put several miles betweenherself and her home; until her horse began to exhibit signs ofweariness, and the level rays of the setting sun were striking redlythrough the leafless branches of the trees. 

Cap drew rein at the top of a high, wooded hill and looked about her. Onher 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 thedirection whence she had come, she saw the tops of the mountains behindHurricane Hall, looking like blue clouds against the southern horizon;the Hall itself and the river below were out of sight. 

"I wonder how far I am from home?" said Capitola, uneasily; "somewherebetween six and seven miles, I reckon. Dear me, I didn't mean to ride sofar. I've got over a great deal of ground in these two hours. I shallnot get back so soon; my horse is tired to death; it will take me threehours to reach Hurricane Hall. Good gracious! it will be pitch darkbefore I get there. No, thank heaven, there will be a moon. But won'tthere be a row though? Whew! Well, I must turn about and lose no time. Come, Gyp, get up, Gyp, good horse; we're going home. "

And so saying, Capitola turned her horse's head and urged him into agallop. 

She had gone on for about a mile, and it was growing dark, and her horsewas again slackening his pace, when she thought she heard the sound ofanother horse's hoofs behind her. She drew rein and listened, and wassure of it. 

Now, without being the least of a coward, Capitola thought of theloneliness of the woods, 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; butthe jaded beast soon broke into a trot and subsided into a walk thatthreatened soon to come to a standstill. 

The invisible pursuer gained on her. 

In vain she urged her steed with whip and voice; the poor beast wouldobey and trot for a few yards, and then fall into a walk. 

The thundering footfalls of the pursuing horse were close in the rear. 

"Oh, Gyp, is it possible that, instead of my capturing Black Donald, youare going to let Black Donald or somebody else catch me?" exclaimedCapitola, in mock despair, as she urged her wearied steed. 

In vain! The pursuing horseman was beside her; a strong hand was laidupon her bridle; a mocking voice was ringing in her ear:

"Whither away so fast, pretty one?"

CHAPTER XVI. 

CAP'S FEARFUL ADVENTURE. 

 Who passes by this road so late? Companion of the Majolaine! Who passes by this road so late? Say! oh, say? --Old French Song. 

Of a naturally strong constitution and adventurous disposition, andinured from infancy to danger, Capitola possessed a high degree ofcourage, self-control and presence of mind. 

At the touch of that ruthless hand, at the sound of that gibing voice, all her faculties instantly collected and concentrated themselves uponthe emergency. As by a flash of lightning she saw every feature of herimminent danger--the loneliness of the woods, the lateness of the hour, the recklessness of her fearful companion and her own weakness. Inanother instant her resolution was taken and her course determined. So, when the stranger repeated his mocking question:

"Whither away so fast, pretty one?" she answered with animation:

"Oh, I am going home, and so glad to have company; for, indeed, I wasdreadfully afraid of riding alone through these woods to-night. "

"Afraid, pretty one--of what?"

"Oh, of ghosts and witches, wild beasts, runaway negroes, and--BlackDonald. "

"Then you are not afraid of me?"

"Lors, no, indeed! I guess I ain't! Why should I be afraid of arespectable-looking gentleman like you, sir?"

"And so you are going home? Where is your 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 meto hear it. "

"What shall I call you, then, my dear?"

"You may call me Miss Black; or, if you are friendly, you may call meCapitola. "

"Capitola!" exclaimed the man, in a deep and changed voice, as hedropped her bridle. 

"Yes--Capitola; what objection have you got to that? It is a prettyname, isn't it? But if you think it is too long, and if you feel veryfriendly, you may call me Cap. "

"Well, then, my pretty Cap, where do you live across the river?" askedthe stranger, recovering his self-possession. 

"Oh, at a rum old place they call Hurricane Hall, with a rum oldmilitary officer they call Old Hurricane, " said Capitola, for the firsttime stealing a sidelong glance at her fearful companion. 

It was not Black Donald; that was the first conclusion to which sherashly jumped. He appeared to be a gentlemanly ruffian about forty yearsof age, well dressed in a black riding-suit; black beaver hat drawn downclose over his eyes: black hair and whiskers; heavy black eyebrows thatmet across his nose; drooping eyelashes, and eyes that looked out underthe corners of the lids; altogether a sly, sinister, cruel face--a crossbetween a fox and a tiger. It warned Capitola to expect no mercy there. After the girl's last words he seemed to have fallen into thought for amoment, 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 NewYork, where I received my education (in the streets), " she mentallyadded. 

"Humph! Why did you ride so fast, my pretty Cap?" he asked, eying herfrom the corner of his eyes. 

"Oh, sir, because I was afraid, as I told you before; afraid of runawaynegroes and wild beasts, and so on; but now, with a good gentleman likeyou, I don't feel afraid at all; and I'm very glad to be able to walkpoor Gyp, because he is 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 wewill sit down here by the roadside and have a friendly conversation. "

Capitola stole a glance at his face. Yes, notwithstanding his lighttone, he was grimly in earnest; there was no mercy to be expected fromthat sly, 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 hesitation; "no, this isnot a good place to sit down and talk; it's all full of brambles. "

"Very well; shall we go on a little further?"

"Oh, yes; but I don't 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? Hemust come to one or the other conclusion, " thought Capitola. 

They rode on very slowly for a mile further, and then, having arrived atan 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 placeeither; it's right on top of the hill; so windy, and just see how rockythe ground is. No, I'll not sit and rest here, and that I tell you. "

"I am afraid you are trifling with me, my pretty bird. Take care; I'llnot be trifled with, " said the man. 

"I don't know what you mean by trifling with you any more than the dead. But I'll not sit down there on those sharp rocks, and so I tell you. Ifyou will be civil and ride along with me until we get to the foot of thehill, I know a nice 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 is that nice place?"

"Why, in the valley at the foot of the hill. "

"Come--come on, then. "

"Slowly, slowly, " said Capitola; "I won't tire my horse. "

They rode over the hill, down the gradual descent and on toward thecenter of the valley. 

They were now within a quarter of a mile of the river, on the oppositeside of which was Hurricane Hall and--safety! The stranger drew rein, saying:

"Come, my cuckoo; here we are at the bottom of the valley; now ornever. "

"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 be careful, now; don't let my riding-skirt get hung in thestirrup, " said Capitola, cautiously disengaging her drapery, rising inthe saddle and giving the stranger her hand. In the act of jumping shesuddenly stopped and looked down, exclaiming:

"Good gracious! how very damp the ground is here, in the bottom of thevalley!"

"More objections, I suppose, my pretty one; but they won't serve you anylonger. I am bent upon having a cozy chat with you upon that very turf, "said the stranger, pointing to a little cleared space among the treesbeside the path. 

"Now, don't be cross; just see how damp it is there; it would spoil myriding-dress and give me my death of cold. "

"Humph!" said the stranger, looking at her with a sly, grim, cruelresolve. 

"I'll tell you what it is, " said Cap, "I'm not witty nor amusing, norwill it pay to sit out in the night air to hear me talk; but, since youwish it, and since you were so good as to guard me through these woods, and since I promised, why, damp as it is, I will even get off and talkwith you. "

"That's my birdling!"

"But hold on a minute; is there nothing you can get to put there for meto 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 delight; "you justspread your saddle-cloth down there, and that will make a beautifulseat, and I'll sit and talk with you so nicely--only you must not wantme to stay long, because if I don't get home soon I shall catch ascolding. "

"You shall neither catch a scolding nor a cold on my account, prettyone, " 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 theman, beginning to unbuckle the girth. 

"Oh, yes, you can; you can draw it from under, " persisted Cap. 

"Impossible, my angel, " said the man, lifting off the saddle from hishorse and laying it carefully by the roadside. 

Then he took off the gay, crimson saddle-cloth and carried it into thelittle clearing and began carefully to spread it down. 

Now was Cap's time. Her horse had recovered from his fatigue. Thestranger's horse was in the path before her. While the man's back wasturned she raised her riding whip and, with a shout, gave the fronthorse a sharp lash that sent him galloping furiously ahead. Then, instantaneously putting whip to her own horse, she started into a run. 

Hearing the shout, the lash and the starting of the horses, the baffledvillain turned and saw that his game was lost; he had been outwitted bya child! He gnashed his teeth and shook his fist in rage. 

Turning as she wheeled out of sight, Capitola--I am sorry to say--puther thumb to the side of her nose and whirled her fingers into asemicircle, in a gesture more expressive than elegant. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

ANOTHER STORM AT HURRICANE HALL. 

 At this, Sir Knight grew high in wroth, And lifting hands and eyes up both, Three times he smote on stomach stout, From whence, at length, fierce words broke out --Hudibras. 

The moon was shining full upon the river and the homestead beyond whenCapitola dashed into the water and, amid the sparkling and leaping ofthe 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 thelittle figure of Pitapat waiting there. 

"Why, Patty, what takes you out so late as this?" asked Capitola, as sherode up to the gate. 

"Oh, Miss Catterpillar, I'se waitin' for you. Old marse is dreadful heis! Jest fit to bust the shingles offen the roof with swearing! So Icome out to warn you, so you steal in the back way and go to your roomso he won't see you, and I'll go and send Wool to put your horse away, and then I'll bring you up some supper and tell old marse how you'vebeen 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 Rag Alley; but I won't troublethe recording angel to make another entry against you on my account. "

"Yes, miss, " said Pitapat, who thought that her mistress wascomplimenting her. 

"And now, Patty, stand out of my way. I am going to ride straight up tothe horse-block, dismount and walk right into the presence of MajorWarfield, " said Capitola, passing through the gate. 

"Oh, Miss Catterpillar, don't! don't! he'll kill you, so he will!"

"Who's afeard?" muttered Cap to herself, as she put her horse to hismettle and rode gayly through the evergreens up to the horse-block, where she sprang down lightly from her saddle. 

Gathering up her train with one hand and tossing back her head, sheswept along toward the house with the air of a young princess. 

There was a vision calculated to test her firmness. Reader, did you eversee a raging lion tearing to and fro the narrow limits of his cage, andoccasionally shaking the amphitheatre with his tremendous roar; or afurious bull tossing his head and tail and plowing up the earth with hishoofs as he careered back and forth between the boundaries of his pen?If you have seen and noted these mad brutes, you may form some idea ofthe frenzy of Old Hurricane as he stormed up and down the floor of thefront piazza. 

Cap had just escaped an actual danger of too terrible a character to befrightened now by sound and fury. Composedly she walked up into theporch and said:

"Good evening, uncle. "

The old man stopped short in his furious strides and glared upon herwith his terrible eyes. 

Cap stood fire without blanching, merely remarking:

"Now, I have no doubt that in the days when you went battling that lookused to strike terror into the heart of the enemy, but it doesn't intomine, somehow. "

"Miss!" roared the old man, bringing down his cane with a resoundingthump upon the floor; "miss! how dare you have the impudence to face me, much less the--the--the assurance!--the effrontery!--the audacity!--thebrass! to speak to me!"

"Well, I declare, " said Cap, calmly untying her hat; "this is the firsttime I ever heard it was impudent in a little girl to give her unclegood evening!"

The old man trotted up and down the piazza two or three turns, then, stopping short before the delinquent, he struck his cane down upon thefloor with a ringing stroke and thundered:

"Young woman, tell me instantly and without prevarication where you'vebeen!"

"Certainly, sir; 'going to and fro in the earth and walking up and downin 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?" thundered Old Hurricane. 

"Well, since you will know--just across the river and through the woodsand back again. "

"And didn't I forbid you to do that, minion? and how dare you disobeyme? You the creature of my bounty; you, the miserable little vagrantthat I picked up in the alleys of New York and tried to make a younglady of; but an old proverb says 'You can't make a silken purse out of apig's ear. ' How dare you, you little beggar, disobey your benefactor?--aman of my age, character and position? I--I--" Old Hurricane turnedabruptly and raged up and down the piazza. 

All this time Capitola had been standing quietly, holding up her trainwith one hand and her riding habit in the other. At this last insult sheraised her dark-gray eyes to his face with one long indignant, sorrowfulgaze; then, turning silently away and entering the house, she left OldHurricane to storm up and down the piazza until he had raged himself torest. 

Reader, I do not defend, far less approve, poor Cap. I only tell herstory and describe her as I have seen her, leaving her to yourcharitable interpretation. 

Next morning Capitola came down into the breakfast-room with one ideaprominent in her hard little head, to which she mentally gaveexpression:

"Well as I like that old man, he must not permit himself to talk to mein that indecent strain, and so he must be made to know. "

When she entered the breakfast-room she found Mrs. Condiment already atthe head of the table and Old Hurricane at the foot. He had quite gotover 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 toher seat. 

"Humph. Did you hear me say 'Good morning, ' Cap?"

Without paying the least attention, Capitola reached out her hand andtook a cup of coffee from Mrs. Condiment. 

"Humph! Humph! Good morning, Capitola!" said Old Hurricane, with markedemphasis. Apparently without hearing him. Cap helped herself to abuckwheat cake and daintily buttered it. 

"Humph! humph! humph! Well as you said yourself, 'a dumb devil is betterthan a speaking one, '" ejaculated Old Hurricane, as he sat down andsubsided into silence. 

Doubtless the old man would have flown into another passion, had thatbeen possible; but, in truth, he had spent so much vitality in ragenumber one that he had none left to sustain rage number two. Besides, heknew it would be necessary to blow up Bill Ezy, his lazy overseer, before night, and perhaps saved himself for that performance. Hefinished his meal in silence and went out. 

Cap finished hers, and, 'tempering justice with mercy, ' went up-stairsto his room and looked over all his appointments and belongings to findwhat she would do for his extra comfort, and found a job in newly lininghis 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. 

"Oh, very well, 'a dumb devil, ' etc. , " exclaimed Old Hurricane, addressing himself to his dinner. When the meal was over they againseparated. The old man went to his study to examine his farm books, andCapitola 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 himin silence. 

"Humph! not gone yet, eh? Poor girl, how it must try you, " said OldHurricane. 

After supper the old man found his dressing-gown and slippers before thefire all ready for his use. 

"Cap, you monkey, you did this, " he said, turning around. But Capitolahad 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 byWool rode up to Tip-Top. He did not return either to dinner or tea, butas that circumstance was not unusual, it gave no uneasiness. Mrs. Condiment kept his supper warm, and Capitola had his dressing-gown andslippers ready. 

She was turning them before the fire when the old man arrived. He camein 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, asdevils belong to eternity, and have no business with time, of course thesight of this little time-keeper must put yours to flight, " and sosaying he laid upon the table, before the eyes of Capitola, a beautifullittle gold watch and chain. She glanced at it as it lay glittering andsparkling in the lamplight, and then turned abruptly and walked away. 

"Humph! that's always the way the devils do--fly when they can't standshot. "

Capitola deliberately walked back, laid a paper over the little watchand chain, as if to cover its fascinating sparkle and glitter, and said:

"Uncle, your bounty is large and your present is beautiful; but there issomething that poor Capitola values more than----"

She paused, dropped her head upon her bosom, a sudden blush flamed upover her face, and tear-drops glittered in her downcast eyes. She putboth hands before her burning face for a moment, and then, droppingthem, resumed:

"Uncle, you rescued me from misery and, perhaps--perhaps, early death;you have heaped benefits and bounties upon me without measure; you haveplaced me in a home of abundance, honor and security. For all this if Iwere not grateful I should deserve no less than death. But, uncle, thereis a sin that is worse, at least, more ungenerous, than ingratitude; itis to put a helpless fellow-creature under heavy obligations and thentreat that grateful creature with undeserved contempt and cruelunkindness. " Once more her voice was choked with feeling. 

For some reason or other Capitola's tears--perhaps because they were sorare--always moved Old Hurricane to his heart's center. Going toward hersoftly, he said:

"Now, my dear; now, my child; now, my little Cap, you know it was allfor your own good. Why, my dear, I never for one instant regrettedbringing 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. "

Now, the soul of Capitola naturally abhorred sentiment. If ever she gaveway to serious emotion, she was sure to avenge herself by being morecapricious than before. Consequently, flinging herself out of thecaressing arms of Old Hurricane, she exclaimed:

"Uncle, I won't be treated with both kicks and half-pennies by the sameperson, and so I tell you. I am not a cur to be fed with roast beef andbeaten with a stick, nor--nor--nor a Turk's slave to be caressed andoppressed as her master likes. Such abuse as you heaped upon me I neverheard--no, not even in Rag Alley!"

"Oh, my dear! my dear! my dear! for heaven's sake forget Rag Alley?"

"I won't! I vow I'll go back to Rag Alley for a very little more. Freedom and peace is even sweeter than wealth and honors. "

"Ah, but I won't let you, my little Cap. "

"Then I'd have you up before the nearest magistrate, to show by whatright you detained me. Ah, ha! I wasn't brought up in New York fornothing. "

"Whee-eu! and all this because, for her own good, I gave my own nieceand ward a little gentle admonition. "

"Gentle admonition! Do you call that gentle admonition? Why, uncle, youare enough to frighten most people to death with your fury. You are aperfect dragon! a griffin! a Russian bear! a Bengal tiger! a Numidianlion! You're all Barnum's beasts in one! I declare, if I don't write andask him to send a party down here to catch you for his museum! You'ddraw, I tell you!"

"Yes, especially with you for a keeper to stir me up once in a whilewith a long pole. "

"And that I'd engage to do--cheap. "

The entrance of Mrs. Condiment with the tea-tray put an end to thecontroversy. It was, as yet, a drawn battle. 

"And what about the watch, my little Cap?"

"Take it back, uncle, if you please. "

"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 Capitola, looking up withsurprise. 

"Why, so they are not; the blamed fools have made a mistake. But you'llhave to take it, Cap. "

"No, uncle; keep it for the present, " said Capitola, who was too honestto take a gift that she felt she did not deserve, and yet too proud toconfess as much. 

Peace was proclaimed--for the present. 

Alas! 'twas but of short continuance. During these two days of coolnessand enforced quietude Old Hurricane had gathered a store of bad humorsthat required expenditure. 

So the very next day something went wrong upon the farm, and OldHurricane came storming home, driving his overseer, poor, old, meekBilly Ezy, and his man Wool before him. 

Bill Ezy was whimpering; Wool was sobbing aloud; Old Hurricane wasroaring at them both as he drove them on before him, swearing that Ezyshould go and find himself a new home and Wool should go and seekanother master. 

And for this cause Old Hurricane was driving them on to his study, thathe might pay the overseer his last quarter's salary and give the servanta written order to find a master. 

He raged past Capitola in the hall, and, meeting Mrs. Condiment at thestudy door, ordered her to bring in her account book directly, for thathe would not be imposed upon any longer, but meant to drive all thelazy, idle, dishonest eye-servants and time-servers from the house andland!

"What's the matter now?" said Capitola, meeting her. 

"Oh, child, he's in his terrible tantrums again! He gets into these waysevery 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 ofloiterers, sluggards and thieves, and pays us off and orders us off. Wedon't go, of course, because we know he doesn't mean it; still, it isvery trying to be talked to so. Oh, I should go, but Lord, child, he's abear, 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 tofind an--an--another--boo-hoo-woo!" sobbed Wool, ready to break hisheart. 

"Give you a line to find another boo-hoo-woo! I wouldn't do it, if Iwere you, Wool, " said Capitola. 

"Give me the paper, Wool, " said Mrs. Condiment, taking the "permit" andtearing it up, and adding:

"There, now, you go home to your quarter, and keep out of your oldmaster's sight until he gets over his anger, and then you know very wellthat it will be all right. There, go along with you. "

Wool quickly got out of the way and made room for the overseer, who wassniveling like a whipped schoolboy, 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 majorfaithful these forty years, to be discharged at sixty-five! Oh, hoo-ooo-oo!" whimpered the overseer. 

"But then you have been discharged so often you ought to be used to itby this time. You get discharged, just as Wool gets sold, about once amonth--but do you ever go?"

"Oh, mum, but he's in airnest this time; 'deed he is, mum; terrible inairnest; and all about that misfortnet bobtail colt getting stole. Iknow how it wur some of Black Donald's gang as done it--as if I couldalways be on my guard against them devils; and he means it this time, mum; he's terrible in airnest!"

"Tut! he's always in earnest for as long as it lasts; go home to yourfamily and to-morrow go about your business as usual. "

Here the study bell rang violently and Old Hurricane's voice was heardcalling, "Mrs. Condiment! Mrs. Condiment!"

"Oh, Lor', he's coming!" cried Bill Ezy, running off as fast as his ageand 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 ofwhich Mrs. Condiment came out "with a smile on her lip and a tear in hereye, " and saying:

"Well, Miss Capitola, I'm paid off and discharged also. "

"What for?"

"For aiding and abetting the rebels; in a word, for trying to comfortpoor Ezy and Wool. "

"And are you going?"

"Certainly not; I shan't budge; I would not treat the old man so badlyas to take him at his word. " And, with a strange smile, Mrs. Condimenthurried away just in time to escape Old Hurricane, who came raving outof the study. 

"Get out of my way, you beggar!" he cried, pushing past Capitola andhurrying from the house. 

"Well, I declare, that was pleasant!" thought Cap, as she entered theparlor. 

"Mrs. Condiment, what will he say when he comes back and finds you allhere still?" she asked. 

"Say? Nothing. After this passion is over he will be so exhausted thathe 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 hewouldn't even permit him to attend. "

"Alone? Has he gone alone? Oh, won't I give him a dose when he comesback, " thought Capitola. 

Meanwhile Old Hurricane stormed along toward Tip-Top, lashing off thepoor dogs that wished to follow him and cutting at every living thingthat crossed his path. His business at the village was to get billsprinted and posted offering an additional reward for the apprehension of"the marauding outlaw, Black Donald. " That day he dined at the villagetavern--"The Antlers, " by Mr. Merry--and differed, disputed orquarrelled, as the case might be, with every man with whom he came incontact. 

Toward evening he set off for home. It was much later than his usualhour for returning; but he felt weary, exhausted and indisposed to comeinto his own dwelling where his furious temper had created so muchunhappiness. Thus, though it was very late, he did not hurry; he almosthoped that every one might be in bed when he should return. The moon wasshining brightly when he passed the gate and rode up the evergreenavenue to the horse-block in front of the house. There he dismounted andwalked up into the piazza, where a novel vision met his surprised gaze. 

It was Capitola, walking up and down the floor with rapid, almostmasculine strides, and apparently in a state of great excitement. 

"Oh, is it you, my little Cap? Good evening, my dear, " he said, verykindly. 

Capitola "pulled up" in her striding walk, wheeled around, faced him, drew up her form, folded her arms, threw back her head, set her teethand glared at him. 

"What the demon do you mean by that?" cried Old Hurricane. 

"Sir!" 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--thebrass! the bronze! the copper! to speak to me!"

"Why, what in the name of all the lunatics in Bedlam does 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 footexclaimed:

"Old gentleman! Tell me instantly and without prevarication, where haveyou been?"

"To the demon with you! What do you mean? Have you taken leave of yoursenses?" demanded Old Hurricane. 

Capitola strode up and down the floor a few times, and, stopping shortand shaking her fist, exclaimed:

"Didn't you know, you headstrong, reckless, desperate, franticveteran--didn't you know the jeopardy in which you placed yourself inriding out alone at this hour? Suppose three or four great runawaynegresses had sprung out of the bushes and--and--and----" She broke offapparently 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 fierceglare of her eye, she continued:

"You shouldn't have come back here any more! No dishonored old manshould have entered the house of which I call myself the mistress!"

"Oh, I take! I take! ha, ha, ha! Good, Cap, good! You are holding up theglass before me; but your mirror is not quite large enough to reflect'Old Hurricane, ' my dear. 'I owe one, '" said the old man, as he passedinto the house, followed by his capricious favorite. 

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 hallow round her hair. --E. B. Browning. 

On the appointed day Traverse took his way to Willow Heights to keep histryst and enter upon his medical studies in the good doctor's office. Hewas anxious also to know if his patron had as yet thought of any plan bywhich his mother might better her condition. He was met at the door bylittle Mattie, the parlor-maid, who told him to walk right up-stairsinto the study, where her master was expecting him. 

Traverse went up quietly and opened the door of that pleasantstudy-room, to which the reader has already been introduced, and thewindows of which opened upon the upper front piazza. 

Now, however, as it was quite cold, the windows were down, though theblinds were open, and through them streamed the golden rays of themorning sun that fell glistening upon the fair hair and white raiment ofa young girl who sat reading before the fire. 

The doctor was not in the room, and Traverse, in his native modesty, wasjust about to retreat when the young creature looked up from her bookand, seeing him, arose with a smile and came forward, saying:

"You are the young man whom my father was expecting, I presume. Sitdown; he has stepped out, but will be in again very soon. "

Now, Traverse, being unaccustomed to the society of young ladies, feltexcessively bashful when suddenly coming into the presence of thisrefined and lovely girl. With a low bow and a deep blush he took thechair she placed for him. 

With natural politeness she closed her book and addressed herself toentertaining him. 

"I have heard that your mother is an invalid; I hope she is better. "

"I thank you--yes, ma'am--miss, " stammered Traverse, in painfulembarrassment. Understanding the _mauvaise honte_ of the bashful boy, and seeing that her efforts to entertain only troubled him, she placedthe newspapers on the table before him, saying:

"Here are the morning journals, if you would like to look over them, Mr. Rocke, " and then she resumed her book. 

"I thank you, miss, " replied the youth, taking up a paper, more for thepurpose of covering up his embarrassment than for any other. 

Mr. Rocke! Traverse was seventeen years of age, and had never beencalled Mr. Rocke before. This young girl was the very first tocompliment him with the manly title, and he felt a boyish gratitude toher and a harmless wish that his well-brushed Sunday suit of black wasnot quite so rusty and threadbare, tempered by an innocent exultation inthe thought that no gentleman in the land could exhibit fresher linen, brighter shoes or cleaner hands than himself. 

But not many seconds were spent in such egotism. He stole a glance athis lovely companion sitting on the opposite side of the fireplace--hewas glad to see that she was already deeply engaged in reading, for itenabled him to observe her without embarrassment or offense. He hadscarcely dared to look at her before, and had no distinct idea of herbeauty. 

There has been for him only a vague, dazzling vision of a golden-hairedgirl in floating white raiment, wafting the fragrance of violets as shemoved, and with a voice sweeter than the notes of the cushat dove as shespoke. 

Now he saw that the golden hair flowed in ringlets around a fair, roseate face, soft and bright with feeling and intelligence. As herdark-blue eyes followed the page, a smile intense with meaning deepenedthe expression of her countenance. That intense smile--it was like herfather's, only lovelier--more heavenly. 

That intense smile--it had, even on the old doctor's face, aninexpressible charm for Traverse--but on the lovely young face of hisdaughter it exercised an ineffable fascination. So earnest and sounconscious became the gaze of poor Traverse that he was only brought toa sense of propriety by the opening of the door and the entrance of thedoctor, who exclaimed:

"Ah, here already, Traverse? That is punctual. This is my daughterClara, Traverse; Clare, this is Traverse you've heard me speak about. But I daresay you've already become acquainted, " concluded the doctor, drawing his chair up to the reading table, sitting down and folding hisdressing-gown around his limbs. 

"Well, Traverse, how is the little mother?" he presently inquired. 

"I was just telling Miss Day that she was much better, sir, " saidTraverse. 

"Ah, ha, ha, ha!" muttered the doctor to himself; "that's kitchenphysic--roast turkey and port wine--and moral medicine, hope--and mentalmedicine, sympathy. "

"Well, Traverse, " he said aloud, "I have been racking my brain for aplan for your mother, and to no purpose. Traverse, your mother should bein a home of peace, plenty and cheerfulness--I can speak before mylittle Clare here; I never have any secrets from her. Your mother wantsgood living, cheerful company and freedom from toil and care. Thesituation of gentleman's or lady's housekeeper in some home ofabundance, where she would be esteemed as a member of the family, wouldsuit her. But where to find such a place? I have been inquiring--withoutmentioning her name, of course--among all my friends, but not one ofthem 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 succeedingbetter. "

"Oh, sir, do not do yourself so great an injustice, " said Traverse. 

"Well, the fact is, after boasting so confidently that I would find agood situation for Mrs. Rocke, lo and behold! I have proved myself asyet 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 chargeof our household. "

"Eh! What? I never thought of that! I never had a housekeeper in mylife!" 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 sheis a colored woman; but she is getting very old. "

"Yes, and deaf and blind and careless. I know she is. I have no doubt inthe world she scours the coppers with the table napkins and washes herface and hands in the soup tureen. "

"Oh, father!" said Clara. 

"Well, Clare, 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 in a boarding school, I know very little aboutdomestic affairs, and I require a great deal of instruction; so I reallydo think that there is no one needs Mrs. Rocke's assistance more than wedo, and if she will do us the favor to come we cannot do better than toengage her. "

"To be sure; to be sure! Lord bless my soul! to think it should neverhave entered my stupid old head until it was put there by Clare! Here Iwas 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 theway, Traverse; that's the way with us all, my boy! While we are lookingaway off yonder for the solution of our difficulties, the remedy is allthe time lying just under our noses!"

"But so close to our eyes, father, that we cannot see it, " said Clara. 

"Just so, Clare; just so. You are always ahead of me in ideas. Now, Traverse, when you go home this evening you shall take a note to yourmother setting forth our wishes--mine and Clara's; if she accedes tothem she will make us very happy. "

With a great deal of manly strength of mind, Traverse had all hismother's tenderness of heart. It was with difficulty that he could keepback his tears or control his voice while he answered:

"I remember reading, sir, that the young queen of England, when she cameto her throne, wished to provide handsomely for an orphan companion ofher childhood; and, seeing that no office in her household suited theyoung person, she created one for her benefit. Sir, I believe you havemade one for my mother. "

"Not at all; not at all! If she doesn't come to look after ourhousekeeping, old Moggy will be greasing our griddles with tallow candleends next! If you don't believe me; ask Clara, ask Clara!"

Not "believe" him! If the doctor had affirmed that the moon was made ofmoldy cheese, Traverse would have deemed it his duty to stoutly maintainthat astronomical theory. He felt hurt that the doctor should use such aphrase. 

"Yes, indeed, we really do need her, Traverse, " said the doctor'sdaughter. 

"Traverse!" It had made him proud to hear her call him for the firsttime in his life, "Mr. Rocke!" but it made him deeply happy to hear hercall him "Traverse. " It had such a sisterly sound coming from this sweetcreature. How he wished that she really were his sister! But, then, theidea of that fair, golden-haired, blue-eyed, white-robed angel being thesister of such a robust, rugged, sunburned boy as himself! The thoughtwas so absurd, extravagant, impossible, that the poor boy heaved anunconscious sigh. 

"Why, what's the matter, Traverse? What are you thinking of sointently?"

"Of your great goodness, sir, among other things. "

"Tut! let's hear no more of that. I pleased myself, " said the doctor;"and now, Traverse, let's go to work decently and in order. But firstlet me settle this point--if your good little mother determines in ourfavor, Traverse, then, of course, you will live with us also, so I shallhave my young medical assistant always at hand. That will be veryconvenient; and then we shall have no more long, lonesome evenings, Clara, shall we, dear? And now, Traverse, I will mark out your course ofstudy 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 toget tired of the sight of you yet! No, Clare, no; you are not in ourway--is she, Traverse?"

"Oh, sir, the idea--" stammered Traverse, blushing deeply to be soappealed to. 

In his way! Why, a pang had shot through his bosom at the very mentionof her going. 

"Very well, then. Here, Traverse, here are your books. You are to beginwith this one; keep this medical dictionary at hand for reference. Blessme, it will bring back my student days to go over the ground with you, my boy. "

Clara took her work-box and sat down to stitch a pair of daintywristbands for her father's shirts. 

The doctor took up the morning papers. 

Traverse opened his book and commenced his readings. It was a quiet butby no means a dull circle. Occasionally Clara and her father exchangedwords, and once in a while the doctor looked over his pupil's shoulderor gave him a direction. 

Traverse studied _con amore_ and with intelligent appreciation. Thepresence of the doctor's lovely daughter, far from disturbing him, calmed and steadied his soul into a state of infinite content. If thepresence 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 thatTraverse should always dine with his family. After dinner an hour--whichthe doctor called a digestive hour--was spent in loitering about andthen the studies were resumed. 

At six o'clock in the evening Traverse took leave of the doctor and hisfair 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, turning and hurrying away toward home. With "winged feet" he ran down the wooded hill and got into the highway, and hastened on with such speed that in half an hour he reached hismother's little cottage. He was agog with joy and eagerness to tell herthe good news. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

THE RESIGNED SOUL. 

 This day be bread and peace my lot; All else beneath the sun Thou knowest if best bestowed or not, And let thy will be done. --Pope. 

Poor Marah Rocke had schooled her soul to resignation; had taughtherself just to do the duty of each day as it came, and leave thefuture--where, indeed, it must always remain--in the hands of God. Sincethe 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 uponhis medical studies she felt very hopeful. 

The little cottage fire burned brightly; the hearth was swept clean; thetea kettle was singing over the blaze; the tiny tea table, with its twocups and saucers and two plates and knives was set: everything was neat, comfortable and cheerful for Traverse's return. Marah sat in her littlelow 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 heshould stay at the doctor's until six o'clock; therefore she did notexpect him until seven. 

But so fast had Traverse walked that just as the minute hand pointed tohalf-past six the latch was raised and Traverse ran in--his face flushedwith joy. 

The first thing he did was to run to his mother, fling his arms aroundher neck and kiss her. Then he threw himself into his chair to takebreath. 

"Now, then, what's the matter, Traverse? You look as if somebody hadleft you a fortune!"

"And so they have, or, as good as done so!" exclaimed Traverse, pantingfor breath. 

"What in the world do you mean?" exclaimed Marah, her thoughts naturallyflying to Old Hurricane, and suggesting his possible repentance orrelenting. 

"Read that, mother! read that!" said Traverse, eagerly putting a noteinto 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 shall 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 and myself sincere satisfaction. 

 Yours truly, WILLIAM DAY. 

Marah finished reading, and raised her eyes, full of amazement, to theface of her son. 

"Mother!" said Traverse, speaking fast and eagerly, "they say theyreally cannot do without you! They have troops of servants; but the oldcook is in her dotage and does all sorts of strange things, such asfrying buckwheat cakes in lamp oil and the like!"

"Oh, hush! what exaggeration!"

"Well, I don't say she does that exactly, but she isn't equal to hersituation without a housekeeper to look after her, and they want youvery much, indeed!"

"And what is to become of your home, if I break up?" suggested themother. 

"Oh, that is the very best of it! The doctor says if you consent to comethat I must also live there, and that then he can have his medicalassistant 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 notsuch a man as the doctor appears in this world more than once in ahundred years. "

"Not in a thousand years, mother, and as for his daughter--oh, youshould 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, indeed, like a clear day, and her beautiful smile is the sunshine thatlights it up!" said the enthusiastic youth, whose admiration was as yettoo simple and single-hearted and unselfish to tie his tongue. 

The mother smiled at his earnestness--smiled without the leastmisgiving; for, to her apprehension, the youth was still a boy, towonder at and admire beauty, without being in the least danger of havinghis peace of mind disturbed by love. And as yet her idea of him wasjust. 

"And mother, of course, you will go, " said Traverse. 

"Oh, I do not know! The proposition was so sudden and unexpected, and isso serious and important, that I must take time to reflect, " said Mrs. Rocke, thoughtfully. 

"How much time, mother? Will until to-morrow morning do? It must, littlemother, because I promised to carry your consent back with me! Indeed, Idid, mother!" exclaimed the impatient boy. 

Mrs. Rocke dropped her head upon her hand, as was her custom when indeep thought. Presently she said:

"Travy, I'm afraid this is not a genuine offer of a situation ofhousekeeper! I'm afraid that it is only a ruse to cover a scheme ofbenevolence! and that they don't really want me, and I should only be intheir way. "

"Now, mother, I do assure you, they do want you! Think of that younggirl and elderly gentleman! Can either of them take charge of a largeestablishment like that of Willow Heights?"

"Well argued, Traverse; but granting that they need a housekeeper, howdo I know I would suit them?"

"Why, you may take their own words for that, mother!"

"But how can they know? I am afraid they would be disappointed!"

"Wait until they complain, mother!"

"I don't believe they ever would!"

"I don't believe they ever would have cause!"

"Well, granting also that I should suit them"--the mother paused andsighed. Traverse filled up the blank by saying:

"I suppose you mean--if you should suit them they might not suit you!"

"No, I do not mean that! I am sure they would suit me; but there is onein the world who may one day come to reason and take bitter umbrage atthe fact that I should accept a subordinate situation in any household, "murmured Mrs. Rocke, almost unconsciously. 

"Then that 'one in the world, ' whoever he, she, or it may be, had betterplace you above the necessity, or else hold his, her, or its tongue!Mother, I think that goods thrown in our way by Providence had better beaccepted, leaving the consequences to Him!"

"Traverse, dear, I shall pray over this matter to-night and sleep on it;and He to whom even the fall of a sparrow is not indifferent will guideme, " said Mrs. Rocke; and here the debate ended. 

The remainder of the evening was spent in laudation of Clare Day, and inwriting a letter to Herbert Greyson, at West Point, in which all theselaudations were reiterated, and in the course of which Traverse wrotethese innocent words: "I have known Clare Day scarcely twelve hours, andI admire her as much as I love you! and oh, Herbert! If you could onlyrise to be a major-general and marry Clare Day, I should be the happiestfellow alive!" Would Traverse as willingly dispose of Clare's hand ayear 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 understand and appreciatehis kindness; that I will not break up my humble home as yet, but I willlock up my house and come a month, on trial. If I can perform the dutiesof 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-by for the day, and hastened up to Willow Heights with her answer. This answer wasreceived by the good doctor and his lovely daughter with delight asunfeigned as it was unselfish. They were pleased to have a goodhousekeeper, but they were far better pleased to offer a poor strugglingmother a comfortable and even luxurious home. 

On the next Monday morning Mrs. Rocke having completed all herarrangements, and closed up the house, entered upon the duties of hernew situation. 

Clara gave her a large, airy bed-chamber for her own use, communicatingwith a smaller one for the use of her son; besides this, as housekeeper, she had of course, the freedom of the whole house. 

Traverse watched with anxious vigilance to find out whether the effortsof his mother really improved the condition of the housekeeping, and wasdelighted to find that the coffee was clearer and finer-flavored; thebread whiter and lighter; the cream richer, the butter fresher, and thebeefsteak juicier than he had ever known them to be on the doctor'stable; that on the dinner table, from day to day, dishes succeeded eachother in a well-ordered variety and well-dressed style--in a word, that, in every particular, the comfort of the family was greatly enhanced bythe presence of the housekeeper, and that the doctor and his daughterknew it. 

While the doctor and his student were engaged in the library, Claraspent many hours of the morning in Mrs. Rocke's company, learning thearts of domestic economy and considerably assisting her in thepreparation of delicate dishes. 

In the evening the doctor, Clara, Mrs. Rocke and Traverse gatheredaround the fire as one family--Mrs. Rocke and Clara engaged inneedlework, and the doctor or Traverse in reading aloud, for theiramusement, some agreeable book. Sometimes Clara would richly entertainthem with music--singing and accompanying herself upon the piano. 

An hour before bedtime the servants were always called in, and generalfamily prayer offered up. 

Thus passed the quiet, pleasant, profitable days. Traverse was fastfalling into a delicious dream, from which, as yet, no rude shockthreatened to wake him. Willow Heights seemed to him Paradise, itsinmates angels, and his own life--beatitude!

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 NancyGrewell, was situated some miles from Hurricane Hall, by the side of aforsaken turnpike in the midst of a thickly wooded, long and narrowvalley, 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 turnedoff in another direction, both road and tavern had been abandoned, andsuffered to fall to ruin. The road was washed and furrowed into deep anddangerous gullies, and obstructed by fallen timber; the house wasdisfigured by moldering walls, broken chimneys and patched windows. 

Had any traveler lost himself and chanced to have passed that way, hemight have seen a little, old, dried-up woman, sitting knitting at oneof the windows. She was known by those who were old enough to rememberher and her home, as Granny Raven, the daughter of the last proprietorof the inn. She was reputed to be dumb, but none could speak withcertainty of the fact. In truth, for as far back as the memory of the"oldest inhabitant" could reach, she had been feared, disliked andavoided, as one of malign reputation; indeed, the ignorant andsuperstitious believed her to possess the "evil eye, " and to be giftedwith "second sight. "

But of late years, as the 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 inthe forest, that this old woman carefully closed up every door andwindow in the front of the house, stopping every crevice through which aray of light might gleam and warn that impossible phenomenon--a chancetraveler, on the old road, of life within the habitation. 

Having, so to speak, hermetically sealed the front of the house, shebetook herself to a large back kitchen. 

This kitchen was strangely and rudely furnished, having an extra broadfireplace with the recesses, on each side of the chimney filled withoaken shelves, laden with strong pewter plates, dishes and mugs; allalong the walls were arranged rude, oaken benches; down the length ofthe room was left, always standing, a long deal table, capable ofaccommodating from fifteen to twenty guests. 

On entering this kitchen Granny Raven struck a light, kindled a fire andbegan to prepare a large supper. 

Nor unlike the ill-omened bird whose name she bore did this old beldamelook in her close-clinging black gown, and flapping black cape and hood, and with her sharp eyes, hooked nose and protruding chin. 

Having put a huge sirloin of beef before the fire, she took down a pileof pewter plates and arranged them along on the sides of the table; thento every plate she placed a pewter mug. A huge wheaten loaf of bread, agreat roll of butter and several plates of pickles were next put uponthe board, and when all was ready the old woman sat down to the patientturning of the spit. 

She had not been thus occupied more than twenty minutes when a hasty, scuffling step was heard at the back of the house, accompanied by apeculiar whistle, immediately under the window. 

"That's 'Headlong Hal, ' for a penny! He never can learn the cat'stread!" thought the crone, as she arose and withdrew the bolt of theback door. 

A little dark-skinned, black-eyed, black-haired, thin and wiry man camehurrying in, exclaiming:

"How now, old girl--supper ready!"

She shook her head, pointed to the roasting beef, lifted up both handswith the ten fingers spread out twice, and then made a rotary motionwith one arm. 

"Oh, you mean it will be done in twenty turns; but hang me if Iunderstand your dumb show half the time! Have none of the men come yet?"

She put her fingers together, flung her hands widely apart in alldirections, brought them slowly together again and pointed to the suppertable. 

"Um! That is to say they are dispersed about their business, but willall be here to-night?"

She nodded. 

"Where's the capt'n?"

She pointed over her left shoulder upwards, placed her two hands outbroad from her temples, then made a motion as of lifting and carrying abasket, and displaying goods. 

"Humph! humph! gone to Tip-top to sell goods disguised as a peddler!"

She nodded. And before he could put another question a low, soft mew washeard at the door. 

"There's 'Stealthy Steve!'--he might walk with hob-nailed high-lows upona gravelly road, and you would never hear his footfall, " said the man, as the door noiselessly opened and shut, a soft-footed, low-voiced, subtle-looking mulatto entered the kitchen, and gave good evening to itsoccupants. 

"Ha! I'm devilish glad you've come, Steve, for hang me if I'm not tiredto death trying to talk to this crone, who, to the charms of old age andugliness, adds that of dumbness. Seen the cap'n?"

"No, he's gone out to hear the people talk, and find out what they thinkof him. "

Hal burst into a loud and scornful laugh, saying: "I should think itwould not require much seeking to discover that!"

Here the old woman came forward, and, by signs, managed to inquirewhether 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 otherthings on the counter, and, remembering you, quietly put it into mypocket. "

The old crone's eyes danced. She seized the packet, patted the excellentthief 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 lookingof the whole party--a man one having a full pocket would scarcely liketo meet on a lonely road in a dark night. In form he was of Dutchproportions, short but stout, with a large, round head covered withstiff, sandy hair; broad, flat face; coarse features, pale, half-closedeyes, and an expression of countenance strangely made up of elements asopposite as they were forbidding--a mixture of stupidity and subtlety, cowardice and ferocity, caution and cruelty. His name in the gang wasDemon Dick, a sobriquet of which he was eminently deserving andcharacteristically proud. 

He came in sulkily, neither saluting the company nor returning theirsalutations. He pulled a chair to the fire, threw himself into it, andordered 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 one?" roughly broke forth Hal. 

"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 footstep soundedoutside, followed by the abrupt opening of the door and entrance of theleader. 

Setting down a large basket, and throwing off a broad-brimmed Quaker hatand broad-skirted overcoat, Black Donald stood roaring with laughter. 

Black Donald, from his great stature, might have been a giant walked outof the age of fable into the middle of the nineteenth century. From hisstature alone, he might have been chosen leader of this band ofdesperadoes. He stood six feet eight inches in his boots, and was stoutand muscular in proportion. He had a well-formed, stately head, fineaquiline features, dark complexion, strong, steady, dark eyes, and anabundance of long curling black hair and beard that would have driven todespair a Broadway beau, broken the heart of a Washington belle, or madehis own fortune in any city of America as a French count or a Germanbaron! He had decidedly "the air noble and distinguished. "

While he threw his broad brim in one direction and his broad coat inanother, and gave way to peals of laughter, Headlong Hal said:

"Cap'n, I don't know what you think of it, but I think it just aschurlish to laugh alone as to get drunk in solitude. "

"Oh, you shall laugh! You shall all laugh! Wait until I tell you! Butfirst, answer me: Does not my broad-skirted gray coat and broad-brimmedgray hat make me look about twelve inches shorter and broader?"

"That's so, cap'n!"

"And when I bury my black beard and chin deep down in this drabneck-cloth, and pull the broad brim low over my black hair and eyes, Ilook as mild and respectable as William Penn?"

"Yea, verily, friend Donald, " said Hal. 

"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!"

"I knew it!"

"We said so!"

"D----n!" were some of the ejaculations as the members of the bandsprang to their feet and handled secret arms. 

"Pshaw! put up your knives and pistols! There is no danger. I was nottraced--our rendezvous is still a secret for which the government wouldpay a thousand dollars!"

"How, then, do you say that you went once too often, cap'n?"

"It was inaccurate! I should have said that I had gone for the lasttime, for that it would not be safe to venture again. Come--I must tellyou the whole story! But in the mean time let us have supper. MotherRaven, dish the beef! Dick, draw the ale! Hal, cut the bread! Steve, carve! Bestir yourselves, burn you, or you shall have no story!"exclaimed the captain, flinging himself into a chair at the head of thetable. 

When his orders had been obeyed, and the men were gathered around thetable, and the first draught of ale had been quaffed by all, BlackDonald 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 veryclutches, but into the very teeth, and down the very throat of the lion, and have come out as safe as Jonah from the whale's belly! In a word, Ihave been up to the county seat where the court is now in session, andsold cigar cases, snuff boxes and smoking caps to the grand and petitjury, and a pair of gold spectacles to the learned judge himself!"

"No!"

"No!!"

"No!!!" exclaimed Hal, Steve and Dick in a breath. 

"Yes! and, moreover, I offered a pair of patent steel spring handcuffsto 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 caughtthat grand rascal, Black Donald!"

"'Ah, the atrocious villain, if I thought I should ever have thesatisfaction of springing them upon his wrists, I'd buy them at my ownproper cost!' said the sheriff, taking them in his hands and examiningthem curiously. 

"'Ah! he's a man of Belial, that same Black Donald--thee'd better buythe handcuffs, John, ' said I. 

"'Nay, friend, I don't know; and as for Black Donald, we have some hopesof taking the wretch at last!' said the simple gentleman. 

"'Ah, verily, John, that's a good hearing for peaceful travelers likemyself, ' said I. 

"'Excellent! excellent! For when that fell marauder once swings from thegallows----'

"'His neck will be broken, John?'

"'Yes, friend! yes, probably; after which honest men may travel insafety! Ah, never have I adjusted a hempen cravat about the throat ofany aspirant for such an honor with less pain than I shall officiate atthe last toilet of Black Donald!'

"'If thee catch him!'

"'Exactly, friend, if I catch him; but the additional reward offered byMajor Warfield, together with the report that he often frequents ourtowns and villages in disguise, will stimulate people to renewed effortsto discover and capture him, ' said the sheriff. 

"'Ah! that will be a great day for Alleghany. And when Black Donald ishanged, I shall make an effort to be present at the solemnity myself!'

"'Do, friend, ' said the sheriff, 'and I will see to getting you a goodplace for witnessing the proceedings. '

"'I have no doubt thee will, John--a very good place! And I assure theethat there will not be one present more interested in those proceedingsthan myself, ' said I. 

"'Of course, that is very natural, for there is no one more in dangerfrom these marauders than men of your itinerant calling. Good heavens!It was but three years ago a peddler was robbed and murdered in thewoods around the Hidden House. '

"'Just so, John, ' said I; 'and it's my opinion that often when I've beentraveling along the road at night Black Donald hasn't been far off! Buttell me, John, so that I may have a chance of earning that thousanddollars--what disguises does this son of Moloch take?'

"'Why, friend, it is said that he appears as a Methodist missionary, going about selling tracts; and sometimes as a knife grinder, andsometimes simulates your calling, as a peddler!' said the unsuspicioussheriff. 

"I thought, however, it was time to be off, so I said 'Thee had betterlet me sell thee those handcuffs, John. Allow me! I will show thee theirbeautiful machinery! Hold out thy wrists, if thee pleases, John. '

"The unsuspicious officer, with a face brimful of interest, held out hiswrists for experiment. 

"I snapped the ornaments on them in a little less than no time, and tookup my pack and disappeared before the sheriff had collected hisfaculties and found out his position!"

"Ha, ha, ha! Haw, haw, haw! Ho, ho, ho!" laughed the outlaws, in everykey of laughter. "And so our captain, instead of being pinioned by thesheriff, turned the tables and actually manacled his honor! Hip, hip, hurrah! Three times three for the merry captain, that manacled thesheriff!"

"Hush, burn ye! There's some one coming!" exclaimed the captain, risingand listening. "It is Le Noir, who was to meet me here to-night onimportant business!"

CHAPTER XXI. 

GABRIEL LE NOIR. 

 Naught's had! all's spent! When our desires are gained without content. --Shakespeare. 

"The colonel!" exclaimed the three men in a breath, as the door openedand a tall, handsome and distinguished-looking gentleman, wrapped in ablack military cloak and having his black beaver pulled low over hisbrow, strode into the room. 

All arose upon their feet to greet him as though he had been a prince. 

With a haughty wave of the hand, he bade them resume their seats, andbeckoning their leader, said:

"Donald, I would have a word with you!"

"At your command, colonel!" said the outlaw, rising and taking a candleand leading the way into the adjoining room, the same in which fourteenyears before old Granny Grewell and the child had been detained. 

Setting the candle upon the mantelpiece, Black Donald stood waiting forthe visitor to open the conversation, a thing that the latter seemed inno hurry to do, for he began walking up and down the room in sternsilence. 

"You seem disturbed, colonel, " at length said the outlaw. 

"I am disturbed--more than disturbed! I am suffering!"

"Suffering, colonel?"

"Aye, suffering! From what think you? The pangs of remorse!"

"Remorse! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" laughed the outlaw till all the raftersrang. 

"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 thatfanatics and fools would stigmatize as crimes? No, my good fellow, no!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 preacherprating of repentance; but man, I never knew the meaning of the worduntil recently. "

"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 ofmy soul I repent not having silenced them both forever while they wereyet in my power!"

"Just so, colonel; the dead never come back, or if they do, are notrecognized as property holders in this world. I wish your honor hadtaken my advice and sent that woman and child on a longer journey. "

"Donald, I was younger then than now. I--shrank from bloodshed, " saidthe man in a husky voice. 

"Bah! superstition! Bloodshed--blood is shed every day! 'We kill tolive!' say the butchers. So do we. Every creature preys upon some othercreature weaker than himself--the big beasts eat up the littleones--artful men live on the simple! So be it! The world was made forthe 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 anddown the room. Presently he came again to the side of the robber andwhispered:

"Donald, that girl has returned to the neighborhood, brought back by oldWarfield. My son met her in the woods a month ago, fell intoconversation with her, heard her history, or as much of it as sheherself knows. Her name is Capitola! She is the living image of hermother! How she came under the notice of old Warfield--to what extent heis acquainted with her birth and rights--what proofs may be in hispossession I know not. All that I have discovered after the strictestinquiry that I was enabled to make, is this--that the old beggar womanthat died and was buried at Major Warfield's expense, was no other thanNancy Grewell, returned--that the night before she died she sent forMajor Warfield and had a long talk with him, and that shortly afterwardthe old scoundrel traveled to the north and brought home this girl!"

"Humph! it is an ugly business, your honor, especially with your honor'slittle 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 yearsago. It is so much easier to pinch a baby's nose until it falls asleepthan to stifle a young girl's shrieks and cries--then the baby would nothave 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 thelarger compensation, larger than your most sanguine hopes would suggest. Donald, listen!" said the colonel, stooping and whispering low--"the daythat you bring me undeniable proofs that Capitola Le Noir is dead, youfinger one thousand dollars!"

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the outlaw, in angry scorn. "Capitola Le Noir isthe sole heiress of a fortune--in land, negroes, coal mines, ironfoundries, railway shares and bank stock of half a million ofdollars--and you ask me to get her out of your way for a thousanddollars--I'll do it--you know I will! Ha, ha, ha!"

"Why, the government doesn't value your whole carcass at more than Ioffer you for the temporary use of your hands, you villain!" frowned thecolonel. 

"No ill names, your honor--between us they are like kicking guns--apt torecoil!"

"You forget that you are in my power!"

"I remember that your honor is in mine! Ha, ha, ha! The day Black Donaldstands at the bar--the honorable Colonel Le Noir will probably be besidehim!"

"Enough of this! Confound you, do you take me for one of your pals?"

"No, your worship, my pals are too poor to hire their work done, butthen they are brave enough to do it themselves. "

"Enough of this, I say! Name the price of this new service!"

"Ten thousand dollars--five thousand in advance--the remainder when thedeed is accomplished. "

"Extortioner! Shameless, ruthless extortioner!"

"Your honor will fall into that vulgar habit of calling ill names. Itisn'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 oflife, and wish to retire from active business. Besides, every man hashis 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--forsuccess in which career, I flatter myself nature and education haveespecially fitted me. Ten thousand dollars will give me a fair start!Many a successful politician, your honor knows, has started on lesscharacter and less capital!"

To this impudent slander the colonel made no answer. With his armsfolded and his head bowed upon his chest he walked moodily up and downthe length of the apartment. Then muttering, "Why should I hesitate?" hecame 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 themeantime, in order to make sure of the girl's identity, it will benecessary for you to get sight of her beforehand, at her home, ifpossible--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! Amistake might be fatal. "

"Your honor may trust me. "

"And now good-by--remember, to-morrow evening, " said the colonel, as, wrapping himself closely in his dark cloak, and pulling his hat low overhis eyes, he passed out by the back passage door and left the house. 

"Ha, ha, ha! Why does that man think it needful to look so villainous?If I were to go about in such a bandit-like dress as that, every child Imet would take me for--what I am!" laughed Black Donald, returning tohis comrades. 

During the next hour other members of the band dropped in until sometwenty men were collected together in the large kitchen around the longtable, where the remainder of the night was spent in revelry. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

THE SMUGGLER AND CAPITOLA. 

 Come buy of me! come buy! come buy! Buy, lads, or else the lassies 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!' Iknow I shall! Was ever such a dull, lonesome, humdrum place as this sameHurricane Hall?" complained Cap, as she sat sewing with Mrs. Condimentin the housekeeper's room. 

"You don't like this quiet country life?" inquired Mrs. Condiment. 

"No! no better than I do a quiet country graveyard! I don't want toreturn to dust before my time, I tell you!" said Cap, yawning dismallyover her work. 

"I hear you, vixen!" roared the voice of Old Hurricane, who presentlycame storming in and saying:

"If you want a ride go and get ready quickly, and come with me, I amgoing down to the water mill, please the Lord, to warn Hopkins off thepremises, worthless villain! Had my grain there since yesterday morningand 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 prepare herself, while the old man ordered the horses. 

In ten minutes more Capitola and Major Warfield cantered away. 

They had been gone about two hours, and it was almost time to expecttheir return, and Mrs. Condiment had just given orders for the tea tableto be set, when Wool came into her room and said there was a sailor atthe hall door with some beautiful foreign goods which he wished to showto the ladies of the house. 

"A sailor, Wool--a sailor with foreign goods for sale? I am very muchafraid he's one of these smugglers I've heard tell of, and I'm not sureabout the right of buying from smugglers! However, I suppose there's noharm in looking at his goods. You may call him in, Wool, " said the oldlady, tampering with temptation. 

"He do look like a smudgeler, dat's a fact, " said Wool whose ideas ofthe 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 silksand satins, imported free of duty and sold at half price, and trying todeceive herself. 

While she was thus thinking the door opened and Wool ushered in a stout, jolly-looking tar, dressed in a white pea-jacket, duck trousers andtarpaulin hat, and carrying in his hand a large pack. He took off hishat and scraped his foot behind him, and remained standing before thehousekeeper with his head tied up in a red bandana handkerchief and hischin 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 showthe traveler all lawful kindness. 

The sailor scraped his foot again, sat down on a low chair, put his haton one side, drew the pack before him, untied it and first displayed arich golden-hued fabric, saying:

"Now here, ma'am, is a rich China silk I bought in the streets ofShanghai, where the long-legged chickens come from. Come, now, I'll shipit off cheap----"

"Oh, that is a great deal too gay and handsome for an old woman likeme, " said Mrs. Condiment. 

"Well, ma'am, perhaps there's young ladies in the fleet? Now, this wouldrig 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 thekitchen and call up the house servants--perhaps they would like to buysomething. "

As soon as Wool had gone and the good woman was left alone with thesailor, she stooped and said:

"I did not wish to inquire before the servant man, but, my good sir, Ido 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 libertyin an unlawful trade!"

"Oh, ma'am, on my soul, these things are honestly come by, and you haveno right to accuse me!" said the sailor, with a look of subduedindignation. 

"I know I haven't, and I meant no harm, but did these goods pass throughthe 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 notjudge you--I don't know whether smuggling is right or wrong, but I knowthat it is unlawful, and I cannot feel free to encourage any man in atraffic in which he risks his life and liberty, poor fellow!"

"Oh, ma'am, " said the sailor, evidently on the brink of bursting intolaughter, "if we risk our lives, sure, it's our own business, and ifyou've no scruples on your own account, you needn't have any on ours!"

While he was speaking the sound of many shuffling feet was heard alongthe passage, and the room was soon half filled with colored people comein 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. Crashat 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, " saidMrs. Condiment. 

The sailor arose and scraped his foot behind him in acknowledgment ofthis kindness and began to unpack his wares and display them all overthe floor. 

And while the servants in wonder and delight examined these treasuresand inquired their prices, a fresh young voice was heard carolling alongthe hall, and the next moment Capitola, in her green riding habit andhat entered the room. 

She turned her mischievous gray eyes about, pursed up her lips and askedMrs. Condiment if she were about to open a fancy bazaar. 

"No, my dear Miss Capitola! It is a sailor with foreign goods for sale, "answered the old lady. 

"A sailor with foreign goods for sale! Umph! yes, I know. Isn't he asmuggler?" whispered Capitola. 

"Indeed. I'm afraid so, my dear--in fact, he don't deny it!" whisperedback the matron. 

"Well, I think it's strange a man that smuggles can't lie!"

"Well, I don't know, my dear--may be he thinks it's no harm to smuggle, and he knows it would be a sin to lie. But where is your uncle, MissCapitola?"

"Gone around to the stable to blow Jem up for mounting on a lame horse. He swears Jem shall find another master before to-morrow's sun sets. Butnow I want to talk to that bold buccaneer. Say, you sir, show me yourforeign goods--I'm very fond of smugglers myself!"

"You are right, my dear young lady! You would give poor sailors somelittle chance to turn an honest penny!"

"Certainly! Brave fellows! Show me that splendid fabric that shines likecloth of gold. "

"This, my young lady, this is a real, genuine China silk. I bought itmyself in my last cruise in the streets of Shanghai, where thelong-legged chickens----"

"And fast young men come from! I know the place! I've been along there!"interrupted Capitola, her gray eyes glittering with mischief. 

"This you will perceive, young lady, is an article that cannot bepurchased anywhere except----"

"From the manufactory of foreign goods in the city of New York, or fromtheir traveling agents!"

"Oh, my dear young lady, how you wrong me! This article came from----"

"The factory of Messrs. Hocus & Pocus, corner of Can't and Come-itStreet, City of Gotham!"

"Oh, my dear young lady----"

"Look here, my brave buccaneer, I know all about it! I told you I'd beenalong there!" said the girl, and, turning to Mrs. Condiment, she said. "See here, my dear, good soul, if you want to buy that 'India' silk thatyou are looking at so longingly, you may do it with a safe conscience!True, it never passed through the custom house--because it was made inNew York. I know all about it! All these 'foreign goods' aremanufactured at the north and sent by agents all over the country. Theseagents dress and talk like sailors and assume a mysterious manner onpurpose to be suspected of smuggling, because they know well enough fineladies will buy much quicker and pay much more if they only fancy theyare cheating Uncle Sam in buying foreign goods from a smuggler at halfprice. "

"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 sortof 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 smuggler, it didn't takehere, " 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, justhand me that silk and don't ask me an unreasonable price for it, becauseI'm a judge of silks and I won't pay more than it is worth, " said theold lady. 

"Madam, I leave it to your own conscience! You shall give me just whatyou think it's worth. "

"Humph! that's too fair by half! I begin to think this fellow is worsethan he seems!" said Capitola to herself. 

After a little hesitation a price was agreed upon and the dress bought. 

Then the servants received permission to invest their little change inribbons, handkerchiefs, tobacco, snuff, or whatever they thought theyneeded. When the purchases were all made and the peddler had done up hisdiminished pack and replaced his hat upon his head and was preparing toleave, Mrs. Condiment said:

"My good man, it is getting very late, and we do not like to see atraveler leave our house at this hour--pray remain until morning, andthen, 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, " saidthe peddler. 

"But, my good man, you are a stranger in this part of the country anddon't know the danger you run, " said the housekeeper. 

"Danger, ma'am, in this quiet country?"

"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 therebe 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 awfullest villain that ever went unhung!"

"Black Donald? Black Donald? Never heard that name before in my life?Why is the fellow called Black Donald?"

"Oh, sir, he's called Black Donald for his black soul, black deedsand--and--also, I believe, for his jet black hair and beard. "

"'Oh, my countrymen, what a falling up was there, '" exclaimed Capitolaat 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 orwhere he isn't! Only think, he may be in our midst any time, and we notknow it! Why, only yesterday the desperate villain handcuffed the verysheriff in the very courtyard! Yet I wonder the sheriff did not know himat once! For my own part, I'm sure I should know Black Donald the minuteI clapped my two looking eyes on him!"

"Should you, ma'am?"

"Yes, indeed, by his long, black hair and beard! They say it is half ayard long--now a man of such a singular appearance as that must beeasily recognized!"

"Of course! Then you never met this wretch face to face?"

"He? Me? Am I standing here alive? Do you suppose I should be standinghere 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 fearI should meet Black Donald! I know if ever I should meet that demon, Ishould drop dead with terror! I feel I should!"

"But maybe, now, ma'am, the man may not be so bad, after all? Even thedevil is not so bad 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 like him!" said Cap. 

"You do!"

"Yes, I do! I like men whose very names strike terror into the hearts ofcommonplace people!"

"Oh, Miss Black!" exclaimed Mrs. Condiment. 

"Yes, I do, ma'am. And if Black Donald were only as honest as he isbrave I should quite adore him. So there! And if there is one person inthe world I should like to see it is Black Donald!"

"Do you really wish to see him?" asked the peddler, looking intentlyinto 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 the rash girl who wished to see thedevil!"

"No--what did?"

"She saw him!"

"Oh, if that's all, I dare it! And if wishing will bring me the sight ofthis notorious outlaw, lo, I wish it! I wish to see Black Donald!" saidCapitola. 

The peddler deliberately arose and put down his pack and his hat; thenhe suddenly tore off the scarf from his neck and the handkerchief fromhis head, lifted his chin and shook loose a great rolling mass of blackhair and beard, drew himself up, struck an attitude, called up a look, and exclaimed:

"Behold Black Donald!"

With a piercing shriek, Mrs. Condiment swooned and fell to the floor;the poor negroes, men and maids, were struck dumb and motionless withconsternation; Capitola gazed for one lost moment in admiration andcuriosity; 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 ofthe huntress possessed her; starting forward, she exclaimed:

"Pursue him! catch him! come with me! Cowards, will you let a robber andmurderer escape?" and she ran out and overtook the outlaw in the middleof the hall. With the agile leap of a little terrier she sprang upbehind 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! I've caught Black Donald!"

He could have killed her instantly in any one of a dozen ways. He couldhave driven in her temples with a blow of his sledge-hammer fist; hecould have broken her neck with the grip of his iron fingers; he onlywished to shake her off without hurting her--a difficult task, for thereshe hung, a dead weight, at the collar of his coat at the back of hisneck. 

"Oh, very well!" he cried, laughing aloud! "Such adhesiveness I neversaw! 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 Christianwith his bundle of sin on his back!"

And loosing the upper button of his pea-jacket so as to give him morebreath, and, putting down his peddler's pack to relieve himself as muchas possible, the outlaw strode through the hall door, down the steps, and down the evergreen avenue leading to the woods. 

Capitola still clinging to the back of his coat-collar, with feet drawnup, a dead weight, and still crying:

"Help! Murder! I've caught Black Donald, and I'll die before I'll lethim go!"

"You're determined to be an outlaw's bride, that's certain! Well, I'veno particular objection!" cried Black Donald, roaring with laughter ashe strode on. 

It was a "thing to see, not hear"--that brave, rash, resolute impclinging like a terrier, or a crab, or a briar, on to the back of thatgigantic ruffian, whom, if she had no strength to stop, she wasdetermined not to release. 

They had nearly reached the foot of the descent, when a great noise andhallooing was heard behind them. It was the negroes, who, havingrecovered from their panic, and armed themselves with guns, pistols, swords, pokers, tongs and pitchforks, 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!" screamedCapitola, 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 ofescape, when lo! suddenly coming up the path in front of him, hemet--Old Hurricane!!!

As the troop of miscellaneously armed negroes running down the hill werestill making eve hideous with yells of "Black Donald!" and Capitolastill clinging and hanging on at the back of his neck, continued to cry, "I've caught him! help! help!" something like the truth flashed in ablinding way upon Old Hurricane's perceptions. 

Roaring forth something between a recognition and a defiance, the oldman 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 hisheels; the old veteran in his path; the girl clinging a dead weight tohis jacket behind. An idea suddenly struck him which he wondered had notdone so before--quickly unbuttoning and throwing off his garment hedropped both jacket and captor behind him on the ground. 

And before Capitola had picked herself up, Black Donald, bending hishuge head and shoulders forward and making a battering ram of himself, ran with all his force and butted Old Hurricane in the stomach, pitchinghim into the horse pond, leaped over the park fence and disappeared inthe forest. 

What a scene! what a row followed the escape and flight of the famousoutlaw!

Who could imagine, far less describe it!--a general tempest in whichevery individual was a particular storm!

There stood the baffled Capitola, extricating her head from thepea-jacket, and with her eyes fairly flashing out sparks of anger, exclaiming, "Oh, wretches! wretches that you are! If you'd been worthsalt you could have caught him while I clung to him so!"

There wallowed Old Hurricane, spluttering, floundering, half drowning, in the horse pond, making the most frantic efforts to curse and swear ashe struggled to get out. 

There stood the crowd of negroes brought to a sudden stand by a panic ofhorror at seeing the dignity of their master so outraged!

And, most frenzied of all, there ran Wool around and around the marginof the pond, in a state of violent perplexity how to get his master outwithout half drowning himself!

"Blurr-urr-rr! flitch! flitch! Blurr!-ur!" spluttered and sneezed andstrangled, Old Hurricane, as he floundered to the edge of thepond--"Burr-urr-rr! Help me out, you scoundrel! I'll break every bone inyour--flitch! body! Do you hear me--ca-snish!--villain you! flitch!flitch! ca-snish! oh-h!"

Wool with his eyes starting from his head and his hair standing up withterrors of all sorts, plunged at last into the water and pulled his oldmaster up upon his feet. 

"Ca-snish! ca-snish! blurr-rr! flitch!--what are you gaping there for asif you'd raised the devil, you crowd of born fools!" bawled OldHurricane as soon as he could get the water out of his mouth andnose--"what are you standing there for! After him! After him, I say!Scour the woods in every direction! His freedom to any man who brings meBlack Donald, dead or alive--Wool!"

"Yes, sir, " said that functionary, who was busying himself withsqueezing the water out of his master's garments. 

"Wool, let me alone? Take the fleetest horse in the stable! Ride foryour life to the Court House! Tell Keepe to have new bills postedeverywhere, offering an additional five hundred dollars for theapprehension of that--that--that"--for the want of a word strong enoughto express himself, Old Hurricane suddenly stopped, and for the lack ofhis stick to make silence emphatic, he seized his gray hair with bothhands and groaned aloud!

Wool waited no second bidding, but flew to do his errand. 

Capitola came to the old man's side, saying:

"Uncle, hadn't you better hurry home--you'll take cold. "

"Cold? Cold! demmy! I never was so hot in my life!" cried the old man;"but, demmy! you're right! Run to the house, Capitola, and tell Mrs. Condiment to have me a full suit of dry clothes before the fire in mychamber. Go, child! every man-jack is off after Black Donald, and thereis nobody but you and Condiment and the housemaids to take care of me. Stop! look for my stick first. Where did that black demon throw it?Demmy! I'd as well be without my legs!"

Capitola picked up the old man's cane and hat and put the one on hishead and the other in his hand, and then hastened to find Mrs. Condimentand tell her to prepare to receive her half-drowned patron. She foundthe old lady scarcely recovered from the effects of her recent fright, but ready on the instant to make every effort in behalf of OldHurricane, who presently after arrived dripping wet at the house. 

Leaving the old gentleman to the care of his housekeeper, we must followBlack Donald. 

Hatless and coatless, with his long black hair and beard blown by thewind, the outlaw made tracks for his retreat--occasionally stopping toturn and get breath, and send a shout of laughter after his baffledpursuers. 

That same night, at the usual hour, the gang met at their rendezvous, the deserted inn, beside the old road through the forest. They were inthe midst of their orgies around the supper table, when the well-knownringing step of the leader sounded under the back windows without, thedoor was burst open, and the captain, hatless, coatless, with his darkelf locks flying, and every sign of haste and disorder, rushed into theroom. 

He was met by a general rising and outcry: "Hi! hillo! what's up?"exclaimed every man, starting to his feet and laying hands upon secretarms, prepared for instant resistance. 

For a moment Black Donald stood with his leonine head turned and lookingback over his stalwart shoulders, as if in expectation of pursuit, andthen, with a loud laugh, turned to his men, exclaiming:

"Ho! you thought me followed! So I have been; but not as close as houndto heel!"

"In fact, captain, you look as if you'd but escaped with your skin thistime!" said Hal. 

"Faith! the captain looks well peeled!" said Stephen. 

"Worse than that, boys! worse than that! Your chief has not only losthis pack, his hat and his coat, but--his heart! Not only are theoutworks battered, but the citadel itself is taken! Not only has he beencaptured, but captivated! And all by a little minx of a girl! Boys, yourchief is in love!" exclaimed Black Donald, throwing himself into hisseat at the head of the table, and quaffing off a large draught of ale. 

"Hip! hip! hurraw! three times three for the captain'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, andis 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, ina consternation that was reflected in every countenance present. 

"Why, because when I go there I intend to take you all with me andremain!" answered Black Donald. 

"Tell us about the visit to Hurricane Hall, " said Hal. 

Whereupon Black Donald commenced, and concealing only the motive of hisvisit, gave his comrades a very graphic, spicy and highly colorednarrative of his adventure at Hurricane Hall, and particularly of his"passages at arms" with the little witch, Capitola, whom he describedas:

"Such a girl! slender, petite, lithe, with bright, black ringletsdancing around a little face full of fun, frolic, mischief and spirit, and bright eyes quick and vivacious as those of a monkey, darting hitherand thither from object to object. "

"The captain is in love sure enough, " said Steve. 

"Bravo! here's success to the captain's love!--she's a brick!" shoutedthe men. 

"Oh, she is!" assented their chief, with enthusiasm. 

"Long life to her! three times three for the pretty witch of HurricaneHall!" roared the men, rising to their feet and waving their full mugshigh in the air, before pledging the toast. 

"That is all very well, boys; but I want more substantial complimentsthan words--boys, I must have that girl!"

"Who doubts it, captain? Of course you will take her at once if you wanther, " said Hal, confidently. 

"But, I must have help in taking her. "

"Captain, I volunteer for one!" exclaimed Hal. 

"And I, for another, " added Stephen. 

"And you, Dick?" inquired the leader, turning toward the sullen man, whose greater atrocity had gained for him the name of Demon Dick. 

"What is the use of volunteering when the captain has only to command, "said this individual, sulkily. 

"Ay! when the enterprise is simply the robbing of a mail coach, in whichyou all have equal interest, then, indeed, your captain has only tocommand, and you to obey; but this is a more delicate matter of enteringa lady's chamber and carrying her off for the captain's arms, and soshould only be entrusted to those whose feelings of devotion to thecaptain's person prompt them to volunteer for the service, " said BlackDonald. 

"How elegantly our captain speaks! He ought to be a lawyer, " said Steve. 

"The captain knows I'm with him for everything, " said Dick, sulkily. 

"Very well, then, for a personal service like this, a delicate servicerequiring devotion, I should scorn to give commands! I thank you foryour offered assistance, my friends, and shall count on you three Hal, Stephen and Richard for the enterprise!" said the captain. 

"Ay, ay, ay!" said the three men, in a breath. 

"For the time and place and manner of the seizure of the girl, we mustreflect. Let us see! There is to be a fair in the village next week, during the session of the court. Old Hurricane will be at court asusual. And for one day, at least, his servants will have a holiday to goto the fair. They will not get home until the next morning. The housewill be ill-guarded. We must find out the particular day and night whenthis shall be so. Then you three shall watch your opportunity, enter thehouse by stealth, conceal yourselves in the chamber of the girl, and atmidnight when all is quiet, gag her and bring her away. "

"Excellent!" said Hal. 

"And mind, no liberty, except the simple act of carrying her off, is tobe taken with your captain's prize!" said the leader, with a threateningglare of his lion-like eye. 

"Oh, no, no, not for the world! She shall be as sacred from insult asthough she were an angel and we saints!" said Hal, both the othersassenting. 

"And now, not a word more. We will arrange the further details of thisbusiness hereafter, " said the captain, as a peculiar signal was given atthe door. 

Waving his hand for the men to keep their places, Black Donald went outand opened the back passage door, admitting Colonel Le Noir. 

"Well!" said the latter anxiously. 

"Well, sir, I have contrived to see her; come into the front room and Iwill tell you all about it!" said the outlaw, leading the way into theold parlor that had been the scene of so many of their conspiracies. 

"Does Capitola Le Noir still live?" hoarsely demanded the colonel, asthe two conspirators reached the parlor. 

"Still live? Yes; 'twas but yesterday we agreed upon her death! Give aman time! Sit down, colonel! Take this seat. We will talk the matterover again. "

With something very like a sigh of relief, Colonel Le Noir threw himselfinto the offered chair. 

Black Donald drew another chair up and sat down beside his patron. 

"Well, colonel, I have contrived to see the girl as I told you, " hebegan. 

"But you have not done the deed! When will it be done?"

"Colonel, my patron, be patient! Within twelve days I shall claim thelast instalment of the ten thousand dollars agreed upon between us forthis job!"

"But why so long, since it is to be done, why not have it over at once?"said Colonel Le Noir, starting up and pacing the floor impatiently. 

"Patience, my colonel! The cat may play with the mouse most delightfullybefore devouring it!"

"What do you mean?"

"My colonel, I have seen the girl, under circumstances that has fired myheart with an uncontrollable desire for her. "

"Ha, ha ha!" scornfully laughed the colonel. "Black Donald, the mailrobber, burglar, outlaw, the subject of the grand passion!"

"Why not, my colonel? Listen, you shall hear! And then you shall judgewhether or not you yourself might not have been fired by thefascinations of such a witch!" said the outlaw, who straightwaycommenced and gave his patron the same account of his visit to HurricaneHall that he had already related to his comrades. 

The colonel heard the story with many a "pish, " "tush" and "pshaw, " andwhen the man had concluded the tale he exclaimed:

"Is that all? Then we may continue our negotiations, I care not! Carryher off! marry her! do as you please with her! only at the end ofall--kill her!" hoarsely whispered Le Noir. 

"That is just what I intend, colonel!"

"That will do if the event be certain: but it must be certain! I cannotbreathe freely while my brother's heiress lives, " whispered Le Noir. 

"Well, colonel, be content; here is my hand upon it! In six daysCapitola 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 theyshook hands and parted--Le Noir to his home and Black Donald to join hiscomrades' revelry. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE BOY'S LOVE

 Endearing! endearing! Why so endearing Are those soft shining eyes, Through their silk fringe peering? They love thee! they love thee! 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 dwelling. 

Under Marah Rocke's administration the business of the household went onwith the regularity of clockwork. Every one felt the advantage of thisimproved condition. 

The doctor often declared that for his part he could not for the life ofhim think how they had ever been able to get along without Mrs. Rockeand Traverse. 

Clara affirmed that however the past might have been, the mother and sonwere a present and future necessity to the doctor's comfort andhappiness. 

The little woman herself gained rapidly both health and spirits and goodlooks. Under favorable circumstances, Marah Rocke, even at thirty-six, would have been esteemed a first-rate beauty; and even now she waspretty, graceful and attractive to a degree that she herself was farfrom suspecting. 

Traverse advanced rapidly in his studies, to the ardent pursuit of whichhe was urged by every generous motive that could fire a humanbosom--affection for his mother, whose condition he was anxious toelevate; gratitude to his patron, whose great kindness he wished tojustify, and admiration for Clara, whose esteem he was ambitious tosecure. 

He attended his patron in all his professional visits; for the doctorsaid that actual, experimental knowledge formed the most important partof a young medical student's education. 

The mornings were usually passed in reading, in the library; the middleof the day in attending the doctor on his professional visits, and theevenings were passed in the drawing-room with the doctor, Clara and Mrs. Rocke. And if the morning's occupation was the most earnest and theday's the most active, the evening's relaxation with Clara and music andpoetry was certainly the most delightful! In the midst of all this peaceand prosperity a malady was creeping upon the boy's heart and brainthat, in his simplicity and inexperience, he could neither understandnor conquer. 

Why was it that these evening fireside meetings with the doctor's lovelydaughter, once such unalloyed delight, were now only a keenly pleasingpain? Why did his face burn and his heart beat and his voice falter whenobliged to speak to her? Why could he no longer talk of her to hismother, or write of her to his friend, Herbert Greyson? Above all, whyhad his favorite day dream of having his dear friends, Herbert and Claramarried together, grown so abhorrent as to sicken his very soul?

Traverse himself could not have answered these questions. In hisignorance of life he did not know that all his strong, ardent, earnestnature was tending toward the maiden by a power of attraction seated inthe deepest principles of being and of destiny. 

Clara in her simplicity did not suspect the truth; but tried in everyinnocent way to enliven the silent boy, and said that he worked toohard, and begged her father not to let him study too much. 

Whereupon the doctor would laugh and bid her not be uneasy aboutTraverse--that the boy was all right and would do very well! Evidentlythe doctor, with all his knowledge of human nature, did not perceivethat his protégé was in process of forming an unadvisable attachment tohis daughter and heiress. 

Mrs. Rocke, with her woman's tact and mother's forethought, saw all! Shesaw that in the honest heart of her poor boy, unconsciously there wasgrowing up a strong, ardent, earnest passion for the lovely girl withwhom he was thrown in such close, intimate, daily association, and whowas certainly not indifferent in her feelings toward him; but whom hemight never, never hope to possess. 

She saw this daily growing, and trembled for the peace of both. Shewondered at the blindness of the doctor, who did not perceive what wasso plain to her own vision. Daily she looked to see the eyes of thedoctor open and some action taken upon the circumstances; but they didnot open to the evil ahead, for the girl and boy! for morning aftermorning their hands would be together tying up the same vines, orclearing out the same flower bed; day after day at the doctor's ordersTraverse attended Clara on her rides; night after night their blushingfaces would be bent over the same sketch book, chess board, or musicsheet. 

"Oh! if the doctor cannot and will not see, what shall I do? What oughtI to do?" said the conscientious little woman to herself, dreading aboveall things, and equally for her son and the doctor's daughter, the evilsof an unhappy attachment, which she, with her peculiar temperament andexperiences, believed to be the worst of sorrows--a misfortune never tobe conquered or outlived. 

"Yes! It is even better that we should leave the house than thatTraverse should become hopelessly attached to Clara; or, worse than all, that he should repay the doctor's great bounty by winning the heart ofhis only daughter, " said Marah Rocke to herself; and so "screwing hercourage to the sticking place, " she took an opportunity one morningearly while Traverse and Clara were out riding, to go into the study tospeak to the doctor. 

As usual, he looked up with a smile to welcome her as she entered; buther downcast eyes and serious face made him uneasy, and he hastened toinquire if she was not well, or if anything had happened to make heranxious, 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 tobreak to you, " she said, in some considerable embarrassment. 

"Mrs. Rocke, you know I am your friend, anxious to serve you! Trust inme, and speak out!"

"Well, sir, " said Marah, beginning to roll up the corner of her apron, in her embarrassment, "I should not presume to interfere, but you do notsee; gentlemen, perhaps, seldom do until it is too late. " She paused, and the good doctor turned his head about, listening first with one earand then with the other, as if he thought by attentive hearing he mightcome to understand her incomprehensible words. 

"Miss Clara has the misfortune to be without a mother, or an aunt, orany lady relative----"

"Oh, yes, I know it, my dear madam; but then I am sure youconscientiously try to fill the place of a matronly friend and adviserto my daughter, " said the doctor, striving after light. 

"Yes, sir, and it is in view of my duties in this relation that I say--Iand Traverse ought to go away. "

"You and Traverse go away! My good little woman, you ought to be morecautious how you shock a man at my time of life--fifty is a veryapoplectic age to a full-blooded man, Mrs. Rocke! But now that I havegot over the shock, tell me why you fancy that you and Traverse ought togo away?"

"Sir, my son is a well-meaning boy----"

"A high-spirited, noble-hearted lad!" put in the doctor. "I have neverseen a better!"

"But granting all that to be what I hope and believe it is--true, still, Traverse Rocke is not a proper or desirable daily associate for MissDay. "

"Why?" curtly inquired the doctor. 

"If Miss Clara's mother were living, sir, she would probably tell youthat young ladies should never associate with any except their equals ofthe opposite sex, " said Marah Rocke. 

"Clara's dear mother, were she on earth, would understand and sympathizewith me, and esteem your Traverse as I do, Mrs. Rocke, " said the doctor, with moist eyes and a tremulous voice. 

"But oh, sir, exceeding kind as you are to Traverse, I dare not, induty, look on and see things going the way in which they are, and notspeak and ask your consent to withdraw Traverse!"

"My good little friend, " said the doctor, rising and looking kindly andbenignantly upon Marah, "My good little woman 'sufficient unto the dayis the evil thereof!' Suppose you and I trust a little in DivineProvidence, and mind our own business?"

"But, sir, it seems to me a part of our business to watch over the youngand inexperienced, that they fall into no snare. "

"And also to treat them with 'a little wholesome neglect' that ourover-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 beenmistaken in the lad, that is all!" said the doctor, heartily. 

Mrs. Rocke sighed, and, saying, "I deemed it my duty to speak to you, sir, and having done so, I have no more to say, " she slightly curtsiedand withdrew. 

"He does not see! His great benevolence blinds him! In his wish to serveus he exposes Traverse to the most dreadful misfortune--the misfortuneof becoming hopelessly attached to one far above him in station, whom hecan never expect to possess!" said Marah Rocke to herself, as sheretired from the room. 

"I must speak to Traverse himself and warn him against this snare, " shesaid, as she afterward ruminated over the subject. 

And accordingly that evening, when she had retired to her chamber andheard Traverse enter the little adjoining room where he slept, shecalled him in, and gave him a seat, saying that she must have someserious conversation with him. 

The boy looked uneasy, but took the offered chair and waited for hismother to speak. 

"Traverse, " she said, "a change has come over you recently that mayescape all other eyes but those of your mother; she, Traverse, cannot beblind to anything that seriously affects her boy's happiness. "

"Mother, I scarcely know what you mean, " said the youth inembarrassment. 

"Traverse, you are beginning to think too much of Miss Day. "

"Oh, mother!" exclaimed the boy, while a violent blush overspread andempurpled his face! Then in a little while and in faltering tones heinquired. "Have I betrayed, in any way, that I do?"

"To no one but to me, Traverse, to me whose anxiety for your happinessmakes me watchful; and now, dear boy, you must listen to me. I know itis very sweet to you, to sit in a dark corner and gaze on Clara, when noone, not even herself, witnesses your joy, and to lie awake and thinkand 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 for you; all this I know isvery sweet, but, Traverse, it is a sweet poison--fatal if indulgedin--fatal to your peace and integrity. "

"Oh, my mother! Oh, my mother! What are you telling me!" exclaimedTraverse, bitterly. 

"Unpalatable truths, dear boy, but necessary antidotes to that sweetpoison of which you have already tasted too much. "

"What would you have me to do, my mother?"

"Guard your acts and words, and even thoughts; forbear to look at, orspeak to, or think of Clara, except when it is unavoidable--or if youdo, regard her as she is--one so far beyond your sphere as to be foreverunattainable!"

"Oh, mother, I never once dreamed of such presumption as to thinkof--of"--The youth paused and a deep blush again overspread his face. 

"I know you have not indulged presumptuous thoughts as yet, my boy, andit is to warn you against them, while yet your heart is in some measurewithin your own keeping, that I speak to you. Indulge your imaginationin no more sweet reveries about Miss Day, for the end thereof will bebitter humiliation and disappointment. Remember also that in so doingyou would indulge a sort of treachery against your patron, who in hisgreat faith in your integrity has received you in the bosom of hisfamily and admitted you to an almost brotherly intimacy with hisdaughter. Honor his trust in you, and treat his daughter with thedistant respect due to a princess. "

"I will, mother! It will be hard, but I will! Oh, an hour ago I did notdream how miserable I should be now!" said Traverse, in a choking voice. 

"Because I have pointed out to you the gulf toward which you werewalking blindfolded!"

"I know it! I know it now, mother, " said Traverse, as he arose andpressed his mother's hand and hurried to his own room. 

The poor youth did his best to follow out the line of conduct prescribedfor him by his mother. He devoted himself to his studies and to theactive service of his patron. He avoided Clara as much as possible, andwhen obliged to be in her company, he treated her with the mostrespectful reserve. 

Clara saw and wondered at his change of manner, and began to cast aboutin her own mind for the probable cause of his conduct. 

"I am the young mistress of the house, " said Clara to herself, "and Iknow I owe to every inmate of it consideration and courtesy; perhaps Imay have been unconsciously lacking in these toward Traverse, whosesituation would naturally render him very sensitive to neglect. I mustendeavor to convince him that none was intended. " And so resolving, Clara redoubled all her efforts to make Traverse, as well as others, happy and comfortable. 

But happiness and comfort seemed for the time to have departed from theyouth. He saw her generous endeavors to cheer him, and while adoring heramiability, 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 doneit? I cannot imagine! But I know I shall not allow him to continueunhappy if I can prevent it! I will speak to him about it. "

And then in the candor, innocence and humility of her soul, she followedhim to the window where he stood in a moody silence, and saidpleasantly:

"Traverse, we do not seem to be so good friends as formerly. If I havedone anything to offend you, I know that you will believe me when I saythat it was quite unintentional on my part and that I am very sorry forit, and hope you will forget it. "

"You--you--Miss Day! You say anything to displease anybody! Any onebecome displeased with you!" exclaimed the youth in a tremulousenthusiasm that shook his voice and suffused his cheeks. 

"Then if you are not displeased, Traverse, what is the matter, and whydo you call me Miss Day instead of Clara?"

"Miss Day, because it is right that I should. You are a young lady--theonly daughter and heiress of Doctor Day of Willow Heights, while Iam----"

"His friend, " said Clara. 

"The son of his housekeeper, " said Traverse, walking away. 

Clara looked after him in dismay for a moment, and then sat down andbent thoughtfully over her needlework. 

From that day Traverse grew more deeply in love and more reserved thanbefore. How could it be otherwise, domesticated as he was, with thislovely girl and becoming daily more sensible of her beauty, goodness andintelligence? Yet he struggled against his inevitable attachment as agreat treachery. Meantime he made rapid progress in his medical studies. It was while affairs were in this state that one morning the doctorentered the study holding the morning paper in his hand. Seating himselfin his leathern armchair at the table, he said:

"I see, my dear Traverse, that a full course of lectures is to becommenced at the medical college in Washington, and I think that you aresufficiently far advanced in your studies to attend them with greatadvantage--what say you?"

"Oh, sir!" said Traverse, upon whom the proposition had burst quiteunexpectedly, "I should indeed be delighted to go if that werepossible. "

"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 professional education, and shallnot stop half way. "

"Oh, sir, the obligation--the overwhelming obligation you lay upon me!"

"Nonsense, Traverse! it is only a capital investment of funds! If I werea usurer I could not put out money to a better advantage. You will repayme by-and-by with compound interest; so just consider all that I may beable to do for you as a loan to be repaid when you shall have achievedsuccess. "

"I am afraid, sir, that that time will never----"

"No, you are not!" interrupted the doctor, "and so don't let modesty runinto hypocrisy. Now put up your books and go and tell your good littlemother to get your clothes all ready for you to go to Washington, foryou shall start by the next coach. "

Much surprise was created in the little household by the news thatTraverse was going immediately to Washington to attend the medicallectures. There were but two days to prepare his wardrobe for thejourney. Mrs. Rocke went cheerfully to work; Clara lent her willing andskilful aid, and at the end of the second day his clothes, in perfectorder, were all neatly packed in his trunk. 

And on the morning of the third day Traverse took leave of his motherand Clara, and for the first time left home to go into the great world. Doctor Day accompanied him in the old green gig as far as Staunton, where he took the stage. 

As soon as they had left the house Marah Rocke went away to her own roomto drop a few natural tears over this first parting with her son. Verylonely and desolate the mother felt as she stood weeping by the window, and straining her eyes to catch a distant view of the old green gig thathad already rolled out of sight. 

While she stood thus in her loneliness and desolation, the door silentlyopened, a footstep softly crossed the floor, a pair of arms was putaround her neck, and Clara Day dropped her head upon the mother's bosomand wept softly. 

Marah Rocke pressed that beautiful form to her breast, and felt withdismay that the doctor's sweet daughter already returned her boy'ssilent love!

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 were dark and humid like the depth in depth of lustre Hid i' the harebell, while her tresses, sunnier than the wild grape's cluster, Gushed in raven-tinted plenty down her cheeks' rose-tinted marble; Then her voice's music--call it the well's bubbling, the bird's warble. --Browning. 

"Cap?"

"Sir!"

"What the blazes is the matter with you?"

"What the blazes! You better say what the dust and ashes! I'm bored todeath! I'm blue as indigo! There never was such a rum old place as thisor such a rum old uncle as you!"

"Cap, how often have I told you to leave off this Bowery boy talk? Rum!pah!" said Old Hurricane. 

"Well, it is rum, then! Nothing ever happens here! The silence deafensme! the plenty takes away my appetite! the safety makes me low!"

"Hum! you are like the Bowery boys in times of peace, 'spoiling for afight. '"

"Yes. I am! just decomposing above ground for want of having my bloodstirred, and I wish I was back in the Bowery! Something was alwayshappening there! One day a fire, next day a fight, another day a fireand a fight together. "

"Umph! and you to run with the engine!"

"Don't talk about it, uncle; it makes me homesick--every day somethingglorious to stir one's blood! Here nothing ever happens, hardly! It hasbeen three days since I caught Black Donald; ten days since you blowedup the whole household! Oh! I wish the barns would catch on fire! I wishthieves would break in and steal. I wish Demon's Run would rise to aflood and play the demon for once! Ohyah!--oo!" said Cap, opening hermouth with a yawn wide enough to threaten the dislocation of her jaws. 

"Capitola, " said the old man, very gravely, "I am getting seriouslyuneasy about you. I know I am a rough old soldier, quite unfit toeducate a young girl, and that Mrs. Condiment can't manage you, and--I'll consult Mr. Goodwin!" he concluded, getting up and putting onhis hat, and walking out of the breakfast-room, where this conversationhad taken place. 

Cap laughed to herself. "I hope it is not a sin. I know I should die ofthe blues if I couldn't give vent to my feelings and--tease uncle!"

Capitola had scarcely exaggerated her condition. The monotony of herlife affected her spirits; the very absence of the necessity of thinkingand caring for herself left a dull void in her heart and brain, and asthe winter waned the annual spring fever of lassitude and dejection towhich mercurial organizations like her own are subject, tended toincrease the malady that Mrs. Condiment termed "a lowness of spirits. "

At his wits' end, from the combined feelings of his responsibility andhis helplessness in his ward's case, Old Hurricane went and laid thematter before the Rev. Mr. Goodwin. 

Having reached the minister's house and found him alone and disengagedin his library, Old Hurricane first bound him over to strict secrecy andthen "made a clean breast of it;" told him where Capitola had beenbrought up and under what circumstances he had found her. 

The honest country clergyman was shocked beyond all immediate power ofrecovering himself--so shocked, in fact, that Old Hurricane, fearing hehad gone too far, hastened to say:

"But mind, on my truth as a man, my honor as a soldier, and my faith asa Christian, I declare that that wild, reckless, desolate child haspassed unscathed through the terrible ordeal of destitution, poverty andexposure. She has, sir! She is as innocent as the most daintilysheltered young heiress in the country! She is, sir! And I'd cut off thetongue and ears of any man that said otherwise. "

"I do not say otherwise, my friend; but I say that she has suffered afrightful series of perils. "

"She has come out of them safe, sir! I know it by a thousand signs; whatI fear for her is the future. I can't manage her. She won't obey me, except when she likes. She has never been taught obedience nor beenaccustomed to subordination, and I don't understand either. She ridesand walks out alone in spite of all I can do or say. If she were a boyI'd thrash her; but what can I do with a girl?" said Old Hurricane, indespair. 

"Lock her up in her chamber until she is brought to reason, " suggestedthe minister. 

"Demmy, she'd jump out of the window and break her neck! or hang herselfwith her garters! or starve herself to death! You don't know what anuntamable thing she is. Some birds, if caged, beat themselves to deathagainst the bars of their prison. She is just such a wild bird as that. "

"Humph! it is a difficult case to manage; but you should not shrink fromresponsibility; you should be firm with her. "

"That's just what I can't be with the witch, confound her! she is such awag, such a drole, such a mimic; disobeys me in such a mocking, cajoling, affectionate way. I could not give her pain if her souldepended 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, and if I try to be she laughs in myface. "

"But, then, is she so insensible to all the benefits you have conferredupon her? Will not gratitude influence her?"

"Yes; so far as repaying me with a genuine affection, fervent caressesand careful attention to my little comforts can go; but Cap evidentlythinks that the restriction of her liberty is too heavy a price to payfor protection and support. The little rogue! Think of her actuallythreatening, in her good-humored way, to cite me before the nearestjustice to show cause why I detained her in my house!"

"Well, you could easily do that, I suppose, and she could no longeroppose your authority. "

"No; that is just what I couldn't do; I couldn't show any legal rightsto detain Capitola. "

"Humph! That complicates the case very much!"

"Yes; and much more than you think; for I wish to keep Capitola untilshe is of legal age. I do not wish that she should fall into the handsof her perfidious guardian until I shall be able to bring legal proof ofhis perfidy. "

"Then it appears that this girl has received foul play from herfriends?"

"Foul play! I should think so! Gabriel Le Noir has very nearly put hisneck into a halter. "

"Gabriel Le Noir! Colonel Le Noir, our neighbor!" exclaimed theminister. 

"Exactly so. Parson, you have given me your word as a Christian ministerto be silent forever concerning this interview, or until I give youleave to speak of it. "

"Yes, major, and I repeat my promise; but, indeed, sir, you astound me!"

"Listen, and let astonishment rise to consternation. I will tell you whoCapitola is. You, sir, have been in this neighborhood only ten years, and, consequently, you know Gabriel Le Noir only as the proprietor ofHidden House, a widower with a grown son----"

"And as a gentleman of irreproachable reputation, in good standing bothin the church and in the county. "

"Ex-actly! A man that pays his pew rent, gives good dinners and takesoff his hat to women and clergymen! Well, sir, this gentleman ofirreproachable manners and morals--this citizen of consideration in thecommunity--this member in good standing with the church--has qualifiedhimself for twenty years' residence in the penitentiary, even if not forthe exaltation of a hangman's halter!"

"Sir, I am inexpressibly shocked to hear you say so, and I must stillbelieve that there is some great mistake. "

"Wait until I tell you! I, Ira Warfield, have known Gabriel Le Noir as avillain for the last eighteen years. I tell you so without scruple, andhold myself ready to maintain my words in field or forum, by sword orlaw! Well, having known him so long for such a knave, I was in no mannersurprised 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 theDeclaration of Independence has it. Listen: Some sixteen years ago, before you came to take this pastoral charge, the Hidden House wasoccupied by old Victor Le Noir, the father of Eugene, the heir, and ofGabriel, the present usurper. The old man died, leaving a will to thiseffect--the landed estate, including the coal and iron mines, the HiddenHouse and all the negroes, stock, furniture and other personal propertyupon the premises to his eldest son Eugene, with the proviso that ifEugene should die without issue, the landed estate, houses, negroes, etc. , should descend to his younger brother Gabriel. To Gabriel he lefthis bank stock and blessing. "

"An equitable will, " observed the minister. 

"Yes; but hear! At the time of his father's death Eugene was travelingin Europe. On receiving the news he immediately returned home, bringingwith him a lovely young creature, a mere child, that he presented to hisastounded neighbors as Madame Eugene Le Noir! I declare to you there wasone simultaneous outcry of shame, that he should have trapped intomatrimony a creature so infantile, for she was scarcely fourteen yearsof age!"

"It was indeed highly improper, " said the minister. 

"So thought all the neighborhood; but when they found out how ithappened, disapproval was changed to commendation. She was the daughterof a French patriot. Her father and mother had both perished on thescaffold in the sacred cause of liberty; she was thrown helpless, friendless and penniless upon the cold charity of the world; Providencecast her in the way of our sensitive and enthusiastic young traveler; hepitied her; he loved her, and was casting about in his own mind how hecould help without compromising her, when the news of his father'sillness summoned him home. Then, seeing no better way of protecting her, after a little hesitation upon account of her tender age, he married herand brought with him. "

"Good deeds, we know, must be rewarded in heaven, since on earth theyare so often punished. "

"He did not long enjoy his bride. She was just the most beautifulcreature that ever was seen--with a promise of still more gloriousbeauty in riper years. I have seen handsome women and pretty women--butMadame Eugene Le Noir was the only perfectly beautiful woman I ever sawin 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 spokeEnglish in 'broken music, ' but soon her accent became as perfect as ifshe had been native born. How could it have been otherwise, when herteacher and inspirer was love? She won all hearts with her loveliness!Humph! hear me, an old fool--worse--an Old Hurricane--betrayed intodiscourses of love and beauty merely by the remembrance of Madame EugeneLe Noir! Ah, bright, exotic flower! she did not bloom long. The bridehad scarcely settled down into the wife when one night Eugene Le Noirdid not come home as usual. The next day his dead body, with a bullet inhis brain, was found in the woods around the Hidden House. The murdererwas never discovered. Gabriel Le Noir came in haste from the militarypost where he had been stationed. Madame Eugene was never seen abroadafter the death of her husband. It was reported that she had lost herreason, a consequence that surprised no one. Eugene having died withoutissue, and his young widow being mad, Gabriel, by the terms of hisfather's will, stepped at once into the full possession of the wholeproperty. "

"Something of all this I have heard before, " said the minister. 

"Very likely, for these facts and falsehoods were the common property ofthe neighborhood. But what you have not heard before, and what is notknown to any now living, except the criminals, the victims and myself, is that, three months after the death of her husband, Madame Eugene LeNoir gave birth to twins--one living, one dead. The dead child wasprivately buried; the living one, together with the nurse that was thesole witness of the birth, was abducted. "

"Great heavens! can this be true?" exclaimed the minister, shockedbeyond all power of self-control. 

"True as gospel! I have proof enough to carry conviction to any honestbreast--to satisfy any caviller--except a court of justice. You shallhear. You remember the dying woman whom you dragged me out in thesnow-storm to see--blame you!"

"Yes. "

"She was the abducted nurse, escaped and returned. It was to make adeposition to the facts I am about to relate that she sent you to fetchme, " said Old Hurricane; and with that he commenced and related thewhole dark history of crime comprised in the nurse's dying deposition. They examined the instrument together, and Old Hurricane again related, in brief, the incidents of his hurried journey to New York; his meetingand identifying Capitola and bringing her home in safety to his house. 

"And thus, " said the old man, "you perceive that this child whose birthwas feloniously concealed, and who was cast away to perish among thewretched beggars, thieves and street-walkers of New York, is really theonly living child of the late Eugene Le Noir, and the sole inheritrix ofthe Hidden House, with its vast acres of fields, forests, iron and coalmines, water power, steam mills, furnaces and foundries--wealth that Iwould not undertake to estimate within a million of dollars--all ofwhich is now held and enjoyed by that usurping villain, Gabriel LeNoir!"

"But, " said the minister, gravely, "you have, of course, commencedproceedings on the part of your protégé. "

"Listen; I will tell you what I have done. When I first brought Cap homeI was moved not only by the desire of wreaking vengeance upon a mostatrocious miscreant who had done me an irreparable injury, but also bysympathy for the little witch who had won my heart at first sight. Therefore, you may judge I lost no time in preparing to strike a doubleblow which should ruin my own mortal enemy and reinstate my favorite inher rights. With this view, immediately on my return home, I sent forBreefe, my confidential attorney, and laid the whole matter before him. "

"And he----"

"To my dismay he told me that, though the case was clear enough, it wasnot sufficiently strong, in a legal point of view, to justify us inbringing suit; for that the dying deposition of the mulatto nurse couldnot be received as evidence in our county courts. "

"You knew that before, sir, I presume. "

"Of course I did; but I thought it was a lawyer's business to get oversuch difficulties; and I assure you, parson, that I flew into a passionand cursed court and county law and lawyers to my heart's content. Iwould have quarreled with old Breefe then and there, only Breefe won'tget excited. He very coolly advised me to keep the matter close and myeyes open, and gather all the corroborative testimony I could find, andthat, in the meantime, he would reflect upon the best manner ofproceeding. "

"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 incomprehensible--that so lovely a woman as you haverepresented her to be should have consented to the concealment, if notto the destruction, of her own legitimate offspring?"

"Sir, to me it is not incomprehensible at all. She was at once an orphanand a widow; a stranger in a strange land; a poor, desolate, broken-hearted child, in the power of the cunningest and mostunscrupulous villain that the Lord ever suffered to live! I wonder atnothing that he might have deceived or frightened her into doing. "

"Heaven forgive us! Have I known that man for ten years to hear thisaccount of him at last? But tell me, sir, have you really any true ideaof what has been the fate of the poor young widow?"

"No; not the slightest. Immediately after his brother's funeral, GabrielLe Noir gave out that Madame Eugene had lost her reason throughexcessive grief, soon after which he took her with him to the North, and, upon his return alone, reported that he had left her in acelebrated lunatic asylum. The story was probable enough, and receiveduniversal belief. Only now I do not credit it, and do not know whetherthe 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 myprivate mind I'll tell you. I believe that Madame Eugene Le Noir hasbeen treacherously made away with by the same infernal demon at whoseinstigation her husband was murdered and her child stolen. "

The minister seemed crushed beneath the overwhelming weight of thiscommunication; he passed his hand over his brow and thence down his faceand sighed deeply. For a few moments he seemed unable to reply, and whenhe spoke it was only to say:

"In this matter, Major Warfield, I can offer you no counsel better thanthat of your confidential attorney--follow the light that you have untilit lead you to the full elucidation of this affair; and may heaven grantthat you may find Colonel Le Noir less guilty than you apprehend. "

"Parson, humbug! When charity drivels it ought to be turned off byjustice! I will follow the little light I have. I suspect, from thedescription, that the wretch who at Le Noir's instance carried off thenurse and child was no other than the notorious Black Donald. I haveoffered an additional thousand dollars for his apprehension, and if heis taken he will be condemned to death, make a last dying speech andconfession and give up his accomplices, the accomplished Colonel Le Noiramong the rest!"

"If the latter really was an accomplice, there could be no better way ofdiscovering the fact than to bring this Black Donald to justice; but Igreatly fear that there is little hope of that, " said the minister. 

"Aye, but there is! Listen! The long impunity enjoyed by this desperadohas made him daring to fatuity. Why, I was within a hair's breadth ofcapturing him myself a few days ago. "

"Ha! is it possible?" asked the minister, with a look of surprise andinterest. 

"Aye, was I; and you shall hear all about it, " said Old Hurricane. Andupon that he commenced and told the minister the adventure of Capitolawith 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 in a hair'sbreadth of capturing this notorious desperado. "

"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 protégé of yours is a very remarkable girl, as interesting to mein her character as she is in her history; her very spirit, courage andinsubordination make her singularly hard to manage and apt to go astray. With your permission I will make her acquaintance, with the view ofseeing what good I can do her. "

"Pray do so, for then you will be better able to counsel me how tomanage the capricious little witch who, if I attempt to check her in herwild and dangerous freedom of action, tells me plainly that liberty istoo precious a thing to be exchanged for food and clothing, and that, rather than live in bondage, she will throw herself upon the protectionof the court. If she does that the game is up. Le Noir, against whom wecan as yet prove nothing, would claim her as his niece and ward, and gether into his power for the purpose of making way with her, as he didwith her father and mother. "

"Oh, for heaven's sake, sir! no more of that until we have furtherevidence, " said the minister, uneasily, adding, "I will see your veryinteresting protégé to-morrow. "

"Do, do! to-morrow, to-day, this hour, any time!" 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 care for naebody. --Burns. 

The next day, according to agreement, the pastor came and dined atHurricane Hall. During the dinner he had ample opportunity of observingCapitola. 

In the afternoon Major Warfield took an occasion of leaving him alonewith the contumacious young object of his visit. 

Cap, with her quick perceptions, instantly discovered the drift andpurpose of this action, which immediately provoked all the mischievouspropensities of her elfish spirit. 

"Uncle means that I shall be lectured by the good parson. If he preachesto me, won't I humor him 'to the top of his bent?'--that's all, " was hersecret resolution, as she sat demurely, with pursed-up lips, bendingover her needlework. 

The honest and well-meaning old country clergyman hitched his chair alittle nearer to the perverse young rebel, and gingerly--for he was halfafraid of his questionable subject--entered into conversation with her. 

To his surprise and pleasure, Capitola replied with the decorum of ayoung nun. 

Encouraged by her manner, the good minister went on to say how muchinterested he felt in her welfare; how deeply he compassionated her lotin never having possessed the advantage of a mother's teaching; howanxious he was by his counsels to make up to her as much as possiblesuch a deficiency. 

Here Capitola put up both her hands and dropped her face upon them. 

Still farther encouraged by this exhibition of feeling, Mr. Goodwin wenton. He told her that it behooved her, who was a motherless girl, to beeven more circumspect than others, lest, through very ignorance, shemight err; and in particular he warned her against riding or walking outalone, or indulging in any freedom of manners that might draw upon herthe animadversions of their very strict community. 

"Oh, sir, I know I have been very indiscreet, and I am very miserable, "said Capitola, 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 beenmistaken, and how ready you are to do strictly right when the way ispointed out, " said the minister, pleased to his honest heart's core thathe had made this deep impression. 

A heavy sigh burst from the bosom of Capitola. 

"What is the matter, my dear child?" he said, kindly. 

"Oh, sir, if I had only known you before!" exclaimed Capitola, bitterly. 

"Why, my dear? I can do just as much good now. "

"Oh, no, sir; it is too late; it is too late!"

"It is never to late to do well. "

"Oh, yes, sir; it is for me! Oh, how I wish I had had your good counselbefore; it would have saved me from so much trouble. "

"My dear child, you make me seriously uneasy; do explain yourself, " saidthe old pastor, drawing his chair closer to hers and trying to get alook at the distressed little face that was bowed down upon her handsand veiled with her hair; "do tell me, my dear, what is the matter. "

"Oh, sir, I am afraid to tell you; you'd hate and despise me; you'dnever speak to me again, " said Capitola, keeping her face concealed. 

"My dear child, " said the minister, very gravely and sorrowfully, "whatever your offense has been, and you make me fear that it has been avery serious one, I invite you to confide it to me, and, having done so, I promise, however I may mourn the sin, not to 'hate, ' or 'despise, ' orforsake the sinner. Come, confide in me. "

"Oh, sir, I daren't! indeed I daren't!" moaned Capitola. 

"My poor girl!" said the minister, "if I am to do you any good it isabsolutely necessary that you make me your confidant. "

"Oh, sir, I have been a very wicked girl; I daren't tell you how wickedI have been!"

"Does your good uncle know or suspect this wrongdoing of yours?"

"Uncle! Oh, no, sir! He'd turn me out of doors! He'd kill me! Indeed hewould, sir! Please don't tell him!"

"You forget, my child, that I do not yet know the nature of youroffense, " said the minister, in a state of painful anxiety. 

"But I am going to inform you, sir; and oh! I hope you will take pity onme and tell me what to do; for though I dread to speak, I can't keep iton 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 moan. 

"But, sir, you know I had no mother, as you said yourself. "

"I know it, my poor girl, and am ready to make every allowance, " saidthe old pastor, with a deep sigh, not knowing what next to expect. 

"And--and--I hope you will forgive me, sir; but--but he was so handsomeI couldn't help liking him!"

"Miss Black!" cried the horrified pastor. 

"There! I knew you'd just go and bite my head off the very first thing!Oh, dear, what shall I do?" sobbed Capitola. 

The good pastor, who had started to his feet, remained gazing upon herin a panic of consternation, murmuring to himself:

"Good angel! I am fated to hear more great sins than if I were a prisonchaplain!" 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, " sobbedCapitola. 

"Heaven of heavens! this is worse than my very worst fears! Wretchedgirl! Tell me instantly the name of this base deceiver!"

"He--he--he's no base deceiver; he--he--he's very amiable andgood-looking; and--and--and that's why I liked him so much; it was allmy 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!" sobbed Capitola. 

"Where is the wretch to be found now?"

"Oh, please don't hurt him, sir! Please don't! He--he--he's hid in thecloset in my room. "

A groan that seemed to have rent his heart in twain burst from the bosomof the minister, as he repeated in deepest horror:

"In your room! (Well, I must prevent murder being done!) Did you notknow, you poor child, the danger you ran by giving this young manprivate interviews; and, above all, admitting him to your apartment?Wretched girl! better you'd never been born than ever so to havereceived a man!"

"Man! man! man!--I'd like to know what you mean by that, Mr. Goodwin!"exclaimed Capitola, lifting her eyes flashing through their tears. 

"I mean the man with whom you have given these private interviews. "

"I!--I give private interviews to a man! Take care what you say, Mr. Goodwin; I won't be insulted; no, not even by you!"

"Then, if you are not talking of a man, who or what in the world are youtalking about?" exclaimed the amazed minister. 

"Why, Alfred, the Blenheim poodle that strayed away from some of theneighbors' houses, and that I found in the woods and brought home andhid in my closet, for fear he would be inquired after, or uncle wouldfind it out and make me give him up. I knew it was wrong, but then hewas so pretty----"

Before Capitola had finished her speech Mr. Goodwin had seized his hatand rushed out of the house in indignation, nearly overturning OldHurricane, whom he met on the lawn, and to whom he said:

"Thrash that girl as if she were a bay boy, for she richly deserves it!"

"There! what did I say? Now you see what a time I have with her; shemakes me sweat, I can tell you, " said Old Hurricane, in triumph. 

"Oh! oh! oh!" groaned the sorely-tried minister. 

"What's it now?" inquired Old Hurricane. 

The pastor took the major's arm and, while they walked up and downbefore the house, told how he had been "sold" by Capitola, ending bysaying:

"You will have to take her firmly in hand. "

"I'll do it, " said Old Hurricane. "I'll do it. "

The pastor then called for his horse and, resisting all his host'sentreaties to stay to tea, took his departure. 

Major Warfield re-entered the house, resolving to say nothing toCapitola for the present, but to seize the very first opportunity ofpunishing her for her flippancy. 

The village fair had commenced on Monday. It had been arranged that allMajor Warfield's family should go, though not all upon the same day. Itwas proposed that on Thursday, when the festival should be at itsheight, Major Warfield, Capitola and the house servants should go. Andon Saturday Mrs. Condiment, Mr. Ezy and the farm servants should have aholiday for the same purpose. 

Therefore, upon Thursday morning all the household be-stirred themselvesat an unusually early hour, and appeared before breakfast in their bestSunday'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'sheart to disappoint her; yet Old Hurricane resolved, as the pastor hadtold him, to "be firm, " and, once for all, by inflicting punishment, tobring her to a sense of her errors. 

"There, you need not trouble yourself to get ready, Capitola; you shallnot 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 verybadly; you have deeply offended our pastor; you have no reverence, nodocility, no propriety, and I mean to bring you to a sense of yourposition by depriving you of some of your indulgences; and, in a word, to begin I say you shall not go to the fair to-day. "

"You mean, sir, that I shall not go with you, although you promised thatI should, " said Cap, coolly. 

"I mean you shall not go at all, demmy!"

"I'd like to know who'll prevent me, " said Cap. 

"I will, Miss Vixen! Demmy, I'll not be set at naught by a beggar! Mrs. Condiment, leave the room, mum, and don't be sitting there listening toevery word I have to say to my ward. Wool, be off with yourself, sir;what do you stand there gaping and staring for? Be off, or----" the oldman looked around for a missile, but before he found one the room wasevacuated except by himself and Capitola. 

"Now, minion, " he began, as soon as he found himself alone with thelittle 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. "And Old Hurricane "gathered his brows like a gathering storm. "

"Sir, if you were really my uncle, or my father, or my legal guardian, Ishould have no choice but obey you; but the same fate that made medesolate made me free--a freedom that I would not exchange for anygilded slavery, " said Cap, gaily. 

"Pish! tush! pshaw! I say I will have no more of this nonsense. I say Iwill be obeyed, " cried Old Hurricane, striking his cane down upon thefloor, "and in proof of it I order you immediately to go and take offthat 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, sinceyou won't give me a seat in your carriage, I shall have to put on myhabit and ride Gyp, " said Cap, good humoredly. 

"What! Do you dare to hint that you have the slightest idea of going tothe fair against my will?"

"Yes, sir, " said Cap, gaily. "Sorry it's against your will, but can'thelp it; not used to being ordered about and don't know how to submit, and so I'm going. "

"Ungrateful girl; actually meditating disobedience on the horse I gaveher!"

"Easy now, uncle--fair and easy. I did not sell my free will for Gyp! Iwouldn't for a thousand Gyps! He was a free gift, " said Capitola, beginning an impatient little dance about the floor. 

"Come here to me; come--here--to--me!" exclaimed the old manperemptorily, rapping his cane down upon the floor with every syllable. 

Capitola danced up to him and stood half smiling and fingering andarranging the lace of her under sleeves. 

"Listen to me, you witch! Do you intend to obey me or not?"

"Not, " said Cap, good-humoredly adjusting her cameo bracelet and holdingup her arm to see its effect. 

"You will not! Then, demmy, miss, I shall know how to make you!"thundered Old Hurricane, bringing the point of his stick down with asharp rap. 

"Eh!" cried Capitola, looking up in astonishment. 

"Yes, miss; that's what I said--make you!"

"I should like to know how, " said Cap, returning to her cool good humor. 

"You would, would you? Demmy, I'll tell you! I have broken haughtierspirits than yours in my life. Would you know how?"

"Yes, " said Cap, 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 Hurricane, maliciously. 

Capitola sprang up as if she had been shot, wave after wave of bloodtiding up in burning blushes over neck, face and forehead; then, turningabruptly, she walked off to the window. 

Old Hurricane, terrified at the effect of his rude, rash words, stoodexcommunicating himself for having been provoked to use them; nor wasthe next aspect of Capitola one calculated to reassure his perturbedfeelings. 

She turned around. Her face was as white as marble, excepting herglittering eyes; they, half sheathed under their long lashes, flashedlike stilettoes. Raising her hand and keeping her eyes fixed upon him, with a slow and gliding motion, and the deep and measured voice thatscarcely seemed to belong to a denizen of earth, she approached andstood before him and spoke these words:

"Uncle, in all the sorrows, shames and sufferings of my destitutechildhood, no one ever dishonored my person with a blow; and if ever youshould have the misfortune to forget your manhood so far as to strikeme--" She paused, drew her breath hard between her set teeth, grew ashade whiter, while her dark eyes dilated until a white ring flamedaround the iris. 

"Oh, you perilous witch! what then!" cried Old Hurricane, in dismay. 

"Why, then, " said Capitola, speaking in a low, deep and measured tone, and keeping her gaze 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 termagant!" shuddered OldHurricane. 

"Shave your beard off smick, smack, smoove!" said Cap, bounding off andlaughing merrily as she ran out of the room. 

In an instant she came bounding back, saying, "Uncle, I will meet you atthe fair; _au revoir, au revoir_!" and, kissing her hand, she dashedaway and ran off to her room. 

"She'll kill me; I know she will. If she don't do it one way she will inanother. Whew! I'm perspiring at every pore. Wool! Wool, you scoundrel!"exclaimed the old man, jerking the bell-rope as if he would have brokenthe wires. 

"Yes, sir; here I am, marse, " exclaimed that worthy, hastening in in astate of perturbation, for he dreaded another storm. 

"Wool, go down to the stables and tell every man there that if either ofthem 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 withyou. "

"Yes, sir, " cried the shocked and terrified Wool, hurrying off to conveyhis panic to the stables. 

Old Hurricane's carriage being ready, he entered it and drove off forthe fair. 

Next the house servants, with the exception of Pitapat, who wascommanded to remain behind and wait upon her mistress, went off in awagon. 

When they were all gone, Capitola dressed herself in her riding-habitand sent Pitapat down to the stables to order one of the grooms tosaddle Gyp and bring him up for her. 

Now, when the little maid delivered this message, the unfortunate groomswere filled with dismay--they feared their tyrannical little mistressalmost as much as their despotic old master, who, in the next change ofhis capricious temper, might punch all their heads for crossing the willof his favorite, even though in doing so they had followed hisdirections. An immediate private consultation was the consequence, andthe result was that the head groom came to Pitapat, told her that he wassorry, but that Miss Black's pony had fallen lame. 

The little maid went back with the 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 ole marse or we. She'll be down here herself nex' minute and have the horse walked out. Now we must make him lame a little. Light a match here, Jem, and I'llburn his foot. "

This was immediately done. And, sure enough, while poor Gyp was stillsmarting with his burn, Capitola came, holding up her riding train andhurrying to the scene, and asking indignantly:

"Who dares to say that my horse is lame? Bring him out here thisinstant, that I may see him!"

The groom immediately took poor Gyp and led him limping to the presenceof his mistress. 

At the sight Capitola was almost ready to cry with grief andindignation. 

"He was not lame last evening. It must have been your carelessness, yougood-for-nothing loungers; and if he is not well enough to take me tothe fair to-morrow, at least, I'll have the whole set of you lamed forlife!" she exclaimed, angrily, as she turned off and went up to thehouse--not caring so much, after all, for her own personaldisappointment as for Old Hurricane's triumph. 

Cap's ill humor did not last long. She soon exchanged her riding-habitfor a morning wrapper, and took her needlework and sat down to sew bythe side of Mrs. Condiment in the housekeeper's room. 

The day passed as usual, only that just after sunset Mrs. Condiment, asa matter of precaution, went all over the house securing windows anddoors before nightfall. Then, after an early tea, Mrs. Condiment, Capitola and the little maid Pitapat gathered around the bright littlewood fire that the chilly spring evening made necessary in thehousekeeper's room. Mrs. Condiment was knitting, Capitola stitching abosom for the major's shirts and Pitapat winding yarn from a reel. 

The conversation of the three females left alone in the old housenaturally turned upon subjects of fear--ghosts, witches and robbers. 

Mrs. Condiment had a formidable collection of accredited stories ofapparitions, warnings, dreams, omens, etc. , all true as gospel. Therewas a haunted house, she said, in their own neighborhood--The HiddenHouse. It was well authenticated that ever since the mysterious murderof Eugene Le Noir unaccountable sights and sounds had been seen andheard in and about the dwelling. A traveler, a brother officer ofColonel Le Noir, had slept there once, and, "in the dead waste andmiddle of the night, " had had his curtains drawn by a lady, pale andpassing fair, dressed in white, with flowing hair, who, as soon as heattempted to speak to her, fled. And it was well known that there was nolady about the premises. 

Another time old Mr. Ezy himself, when out after coons, and comingthrough the woods near the house, had been attracted by seeing a windownear the roof lighted up by a strange blue flame; drawing near, he sawwithin the lighted room a female clothed in white passing and repassingthe window. 

Another time, when old Major Warfield was out with his dogs, the chaseled him past the haunted house, and as he swept by he caught a glimpseof a pale, wan, sorrowful female face pressed against the window pane ofan 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 EugeneLe Noir and the disappearance of his lovely young widow, no white femalehas crossed the threshold of that fatal house, " said Mrs. Condiment. 

"'Disappearance, ' did you say? Can a lady of condition disappear from aneighborhood and no inquiry be made for her?"

"No, my dear; there was inquiry, and it was answered plausibly--thatMadame Eugene was insane and sent off to a lunatic asylum: but there arethose who believe that the lovely lady was privately made away with, "whispered Mrs. Condiment. 

"How dreadful! I did not think such things happened in a quiet countryneighborhood. Something like that occurred, indeed, in New York, withinmy own recollection, however, " said Capitola, who straightway commencedand related the story of Mary Rogers and all other stories of terrorthat memory supplied her with. 

As for poor little Pitapat, she did not presume to enter into theconversation; but, with her ball of yarn suspended in her hand, her eyesstarted until they threatened to burst from their sockets, and her chindropped until her mouth gaped wide open, she sat and swallowed everyword, listening with a thousand audience power. 

By the time they had frightened themselves pretty thoroughly the clockstruck eleven and they thought it was time to retire. 

"Will you be afraid, Mrs. Condiment?" asked Capitola. 

"Well, my dear, if I am I must try to trust in the Lord to overcome it, since it is no use to be afraid. I have fastened up the house well, andI have brought in Growler, the bull-dog, to sleep on the mat outside ofmy bedroom door, so I shall say my prayers and try to go to sleep. Idare say there is no danger, only it seems lonesome like for us threewomen to be left in this big house by ourselves. "

"Yes, " said Capitola; "but, as you say, there is no danger; and as forme, if it will give you any comfort or courage to hear me say it, I amnot the least afraid, although I sleep in such a remote room and have noone but Patty, who, having no more heart that a hare, is not near such apowerful protector as Growler. " And, bidding her little maid take up thenight lamp, Capitola wished Mrs. Condiment good-night and left thehousekeeper's room. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE PERIL AND THE PLUCK OF CAP. 

 "Who that had seen her form so light For swiftness only 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 towardCapitola's distant chamber. 

When at last they reached it, however, and opened the door, the cheerfulscene within quite reanimated Capitola's spirits. The care of her littlemaid had prepared a blazing wood fire that lighted up the whole roombrightly, glowing on the crimson curtains of the bed and the crimsonhangings of the windows opposite and flashing upon the high mirrorbetween them. 

Capitola, having secured her room in every way, stood before herdressing bureau and began to take off her collar, under sleeves andother small articles of dress. As she stood there her mirror, brilliantly lighted up by both lamp and fire, reflected clearly theopposite bed, with its warm crimson curtains, white coverlet and littlePitapat flitting from post to post as she tied back the curtains orsmoothed the sheets. 

Capitola stood unclasping her bracelets and smiling to herself at thereflected picture--the comfortable nest in which she was so soon to curlherself up in sleep. While she was smiling thus she tilted the mirrordownwards a little for her better convenience, and, looking into itagain----

Horror! What did she see reflected there? Under the bed a pair ofglaring eyes watching her from the shadows!

A sick sensation of fainting came over her; but, mastering the weakness, she tilted the glass a little lower, until it reflected all the floor, and looked again. 

Horror of horrors there were three stalwart ruffians, armed to theteeth, lurking in ambush under her bed!

The deadly inclination to swoon returned upon her; but with a heroiceffort she controlled her fears and forced herself to look. 

Yes, there they were! It was no dream, no illusion, no nightmare--therethey were, three powerful desperadoes armed with bowie knives andrevolvers, the nearest one crouching low and watching her with hiswolfish eyes, that shone like phosphorus in the dark. 

What should she do? The danger was extreme, the necessity of immediateaction imminent, the need of perfect self-control absolute! There wasPitapat flitting about the bed in momentary danger of looking under it!If she should their lives would not be worth an instant's purchase!Their throats would be cut before they should utter a second scream! Itwas necessary, therefore, to call Pitapat away from the bed, where herpresence was as dangerous as the proximity of a lighted candle to anopen powder barrel!

But how to trust her voice to do this? A single quaver in her toneswould betray her consciousness of their presence to the lurking robbersand 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 andhave not even nerve and will enough to command the tones of my ownvoice? Fie on it! Cowardice is worse than death!"

And summoning all her resolution she spoke up, glibly:

"Patty, come here and unhook my dress. "

"Yes, miss, I will just as soon as I get your slippers from unnerneaf ofde bed!"

"I don't want them! Come here this minute and unhook my dress--I can'tbreathe! Plague take these country dress-makers--they think the tighterthey screw one up the more fashionable they make one appear! Come, Isay, and set my lungs at liberty. "

"Yes, miss, in one minute, " said Pitapat; and to Capitola's unspeakablehorror the little maid stooped down and felt along under the side of thebed, from the head post to the foot post, until she put her hands uponthe slippers and brought them forth! Providentially, the poor littlewretch had not for an instant put her stupid head under the bed, or usedher eyes in the search--that was all that saved them from instantmassacre!

"Here dey is, Caterpillar! I knows how yer foots mus' be as much out ofbreaf wid yer tight gaiters as your waist is long of yer tight dress. "

"Unhook me!" said Capitola, tilting up the glass lest the child shouldsee what horrors were reflected there. 

The little maid began to obey and Capitola tried to think of some planto escape their imminent danger. To obey the natural impulse--to flyfrom the room would be instantly fatal--they would be followed andmurdered in the hall before they could possibly give the alarm! And towhom could she give the alarm when there was not another creature in thehouse except Mrs. Condiment?

While she was turning these things over in her mind it occurred to herthat "man's extremity is God's opportunity. " Sending up a silent prayerto heaven for help at need, she suddenly thought of a plan--it was fullof difficulty, uncertainty and peril, affording not one chance in fiftyof success, yet the only possible plan of escape! It was to find someplausible pretext for leaving the room without exciting suspicion, whichwould be fatal. Controlling her tremors, and speaking cheerfully, sheasked:

"Patty, do you know whether there were any of those nice quince tartsleft from dinner?"

"Lor', yes, miss, a heap on 'em! Ole Mis' put 'em away in her cubberd. "

"Was there any baked custard left?"

"Lor', yes Miss Caterpillar; dere was nobody but we-dens three, andthink I 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 anda spoonful of pear sauce. Sitting up so late makes me as hungry as awolf! Come, Patty, go along!"

"Deed, miss, I'se 'fraid!" whimpered the little maid. 

"Afraid of what, you goose?"

"'Fraid of meeting of a ghose in the dark places!"

"Pooh! you can take the light with you! I can stay here in the dark wellenough. "

"'Deed, miss, I'se 'fraid!"

"What! with the candle, you blockhead?"

"Lors, miss, de candle wouldn't be no 'tection! I'd see de ghoses all deplainer wid de candle!"

"What a provoking, stupid dolt! You're a proper maid--afraid to do mybidding! Afraid of ghosts, forsooth. Well, I suppose I shall have to gomyself--plague on you for an aggravating thing! There--take the candleand come along!" said Capitola, in a tone of impatience. 

Pitapat took up the light and stood ready to accompany her mistress, Capitola, humming a gay tune, went to the door and unlocked and openedit. 

She wished to withdraw the key, so as to lock it on the other side andsecure the robbers and insure the safety of her own retreat; but to dothis without betraying her purpose and destroying her own life seemednext to impossible. Still singing gayly she ran over in her mind withthe quickness of lightning every possible means by which she mightwithdraw the key silently, or without attracting the attention of thewatchful robbers. It is difficult to say what she would have done, hadnot chance instantly favored her. 

At the same moment that she unlocked and opened the door and held thekey in her hand fearful of withdrawing it, Pitapat, who was hurryingafter her with the candle, tripped and fell against a chair, with agreat noise, under cover of which Capitola drew forth the key. 

Scolding and pushing Pitapat out before her, she closed the door with abang. With the quickness of lightning she slipped the key in thekey-hole and turned the lock, covering the whole with loud and angryrailing against poor Pitapat, who silently wondered at this unhappychange in her mistress's temper, but ascribed it all to hunger, muttering to herself:

"I'se offen hern tell how people's cross when dere empty! Lors knows efI don't fetch up a whole heap o' wittels ebery night for MissCaterpillar from dis time forred, so I will--'deed me!"

So they went on through the long passages and empty rooms. Capitolacarefully locking every door behind her until she got down-stairs intothe great hall. 

"Now, Miss Caterpillar, ef you wants quint tart, an' pear sass, andbaked cussets, an' all dem, you'll jest has to go an' wake Ole Mis' up, case dey's in her cubbed an' she's got the keys, " said Pitapat. 

"Never mind, Patty, you follow me, " said Capitola, going to the fronthall door and beginning to unlock it and take down the bars and withdrawthe bolts. 

"Lors, miss, what is yer a-doin' of?" asked the little 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, I'se 'fraid!"

"Very well, then, stay here in the dark until I come back, but don't goto 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, " saidCapitola, sharply, as she passed out from the door. The poor little maidfollowed, 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 ferventlyejaculated:

"Thank God--oh, thank God that we are safe!"

"Lors, miss, was we in danger?"

"We are not now at any rate, Pitapat! Come along!" said Capitola, hurrying across the lawn toward the open fields. 

"Oh, my goodness, miss, where is yer-a-goin' of? Don't less us run sofur from home dis lonesome, wicked, onlawful hour o' de night!"whimpered the distressed little darkey, fearing that her mistress wascertainly crazed. 

"Now, then, what are you afraid of?" asked Capitola, seeing her holdback. 

"Lors, miss, you knows--eberybody knows--Brack Dunnel!"

"Patty, come close--listen to me--don't scream--Black Donald and his menare up there at the house--in my chamber, under the bed, " whisperedCapitola. 

Pitapat could not scream, for though her mouth was wide open, her breathwas quite gone. Shivering with fear, she kept close to her mistress'sheels as Capitola scampered over the fields. 

A run of a quarter of a mile brought them 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 andrapped loudly at the door. 

This startled the house dog into furious barking and brought old Mr. Ezy, with his night-capped head, to the window to see what was thematter. 

"It is I--Capitola, Mr. Ezy--Black Donald and his men are lurking up atthe house, " said our young heroine, commencing in an eager and hurriedvoice, and giving the overseer an account of the manner in which she haddiscovered the presence of the robbers, and left the room withoutalarming them. 

The old man heard with many cries of astonishment, ejaculations ofprayer, and exclamations of thanksgiving. And all the while his head wasbobbing in and out of the window, as he pulled on his pantaloons orbuttoned his coat. 

"And oh!" he said, at last, as he opened the door to Capitola, "howprovidential that Mr. Herbert Greyson is arrove!"

"Herbert Greyson! Herbert Greyson arrived! Where is he, then?" exclaimedCapitola, in surprise and joy. 

"Yes, sartain! Mr. Herbert arrove about an hour ago, and thinking youall abed and asleep 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, withdrawing into the house. 

"Oh, thank heaven! thank heaven!" exclaimed Capitola, just as the dooropened and Herbert sprang forward to greet her with a--

"Dear Capitola! I am so glad to come to see you!"

"Dear Herbert, just fancy you have said that a hundred times over andthat I have replied to the same words a hundred times--for we haven't amoment to spare, " said Capitola, shaking his hands, and then, in aneager, vehement manner, recounting her discovery and escape from therobbers whom she had locked up in the house. 

"Go, now, " she said, in conclusion, "and help Mr. Ezy to rouse up andarm the farm hands and come immediately to the house! I am in agony lestmy 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 Greyson, accompanied by Capitola and Patty, hurried at once to the negroquarters, roused up and armed the men with whatever was at hand, and, enjoining them to be as stealthy as cats in their approach, set outswiftly for the Hall, where they soon arrived. 

"Take off all your shoes and walk lightly in your stocking feet--do notspeak--do not breathe--follow me as silent as death, " said HerbertGreyson, as he softly unlocked the front door and entered the house. 

Silently and stealthily they passed through the middle hall, up thebroad staircase, and through the long, narrow passages and steep stairsthat led to Capitola's remote chamber. 

There at the door they paused awhile to listen. 

All was still within. 

Herbert Greyson unlocked the door, withdrew the key, and opened it andentered the room, followed by all the men. He had scarcely time to closethe door and lock it on the inside, and withdraw the key, before therobbers, finding themselves surprised, burst out from their hiding placeand made a rush for the passage; but their means of escape had beenalready cut off by the forethought of Herbert Greyson. 

A sharp conflict ensued. 

Upon first being summoned to surrender the robbers responded by ahail-storm of bullets from their revolvers, followed instantly by acharge of bowie knives. This was met by an avalanche of blows frompick-axes, pokers, pitchforks, sledge-hammers, spades and rakes, beneathwhich the miscreants were quickly beaten down and overwhelmed. 

They were then set upon and bound with strong ropes brought for thepurpose by Mr. Ezy. 

When they were thus secured, hand and foot, Capitola, who had been aspectator of the whole scene, and exposed as much as any other to therattle of the bullets, now approached and looked at the vanquished. 

Black Donald certainly was not one of the party, who were no other thanour old acquaintances--Hal, Steve and Dick--of the band!

Each burglar was conveyed to a separate apartment and a strong guard setover 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. Severalof the negroes had received gun-shot wounds of more or less importance. These were speedily attended to. Mrs. Condiment, who had slept securelythrough all the fight, was now awakened by Capitola, and cautiouslyinformed of what had taken place and assured that all danger was nowover. 

The worthy woman, as soon as she recovered from the consternation intowhich the news had plunged her, at once set about succoring the wounded. Cots and mattresses were made up in one of the empty rooms and bandagesand balsams prepared. 

And not until all who had been hurt were made comfortable, did HerbertGreyson throw himself upon horseback, and ride off to the county seat tosummon the authorities, and to inform Major Warfield of what hadhappened. 

No one thought of retiring to bed at Hurricane Hall that night. 

Mrs. Condiment, Capitola and Patty sat watching by the bedsides of thewounded. 

Bill Ezy and the men who had escaped injury mounted guard over theprisoners. 

Thus they all remained until sunrise, when the Major, attended by theDeputy Sheriff and half a dozen constables, arrived. The night ride ofseveral miles had not sufficed to modify the fury into which OldHurricane had been thrown by the news Herbert Greyson had aroused himfrom sleep to communicate. He reached Hurricane Hall in a state ofexcitement that his factotum Wool characterized as "boiling. " But "inthe very torrent, tempest and whirlwind of his passion" he rememberedthat to rail at the vanquished, wounded and bound was unmanly, and so hedid not trust himself to see or speak to the prisoners. 

They were placed in a wagon and under a strong escort of constables wereconveyed by the Deputy Sheriff to the county seat, where they weresecurely lodged in jail. 

But Old Hurricane's emotions of one sort or another were a treat to see!He bemoaned the sufferings of his poor wounded men; he raved at thedanger to which his "women-kind" had been exposed, and he exulted in theheroism 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 Iwas plotting treason--ninny that I was! You that have saved my housefrom pillage and my people from slaughter! Oh, Cap, what a jewel youare--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 grandtriumph. 

The next day Major Warfield went up to the county seat to attend theexamination of the three burglars, whom he had the satisfaction ofseeing fully committed to prison to await their trial at the next termof the Criminal Court, which would not sit until October; consequentlythe prisoners had the prospect of remaining in jail some months, whichOld 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 learn 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 Collegewas over, late in the spring, Traverse Rocke returned to Willow Heights. 

The good doctor gave him a glad welcome, congratulating him upon hisimproved appearance and manly bearing. 

Clara received him with blushing pleasure, and Marah Rocke with all themother'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 theflower garden, and his morning rides and evening talk with the doctor'slovely child. 

Not the least obstacle was set in the way of his association with Clara, yet Traverse, grown stronger and wiser than his years would seem topromise, controlled both his feelings and his actions, and neverdeparted from the most respectful reserve, or suffered himself to bedrawn into that dangerous familiarity to which their constantcompanionship might tempt him. 

Marah Rocke, with maternal pride, witnessed his constant self-controland encouraged him to persevere. Often in the enthusiasm of her heart, when they were alone, she would throw her arm around him, and push thedark, clustering curls from his fine forehead, and, gazing fondly on hisface, exclaim:

"That is my noble-hearted boy! Oh, Traverse, God will bless you! He onlytries you now to strengthen you!"

Traverse always understood these vague words and would return herembrace with all his boyish ardor and say:

"God does bless me now, mother! He blesses me so much, in so many, manyways, that I should be worse than a heathen not to be willing to bearcheerfully one trial?"

And so Traverse would "reck his own rede" and cultivate cheerfulgratitude as a duty to God and man. 

Clara, also, now, with her feminine intuition, comprehended her reservedlover, honored his motives and rested satisfied with being so deeplyloved, trusting all their unknown future to heaven. 

The doctor's appreciation and esteem for Traverse increased with everynew unfolding of the youth's heart and intellect, and never did mastertake more pains with a favorite pupil, or father with a beloved son, than did the doctor to push Traverse on in his profession. Theimprovement of the youth was truly surprising. 

Thus passed the summer in healthful alternation of study and exercise. 

When the season waned, late in the autumn, he went a second time toWashington to attend the winter's course of lectures at the MedicalCollege. 

The doctor gave him letters recommending him as a young man ofextraordinary talents and of excellent moral character, to theparticular attention of several of the most eminent professors. 

His mother bore this second parting with more cheerfulness, especiallyas the separation was enlivened by frequent letters from Traverse, fullof 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 hisfriends, the professors of the medical college, that they might affordhis protégé every facility and assistance in the prosecution of hisstudies. 

Toward spring Traverse wrote to his friends that his hopes were sanguineof obtaining his diploma at the examination to be held at the end of thesession. And when Traverse expressed this hope, they who knew him sowell felt assured that he had made no vain boast. 

And so it proved, for early in April Traverse Rocke returned home with adiploma in his pocket. 

Sincere was the joyful sympathy that met him. 

The doctor shook him cordially by the hands, declaring that he was thefirst student he ever knew to get his diploma at the end of only threeyears' study. 

Clara, amid smiles and blushes, congratulated him. 

And Mrs. Rocke, as soon as she had him alone, threw her arms around hisneck 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 office andhanging out a sign in Staunton. 

He consulted the doctor upon this subject. The good doctor heard him outand then, caressing his own chin and looking over the tops of hisspectacles, with good-humored satire, he said:

"My dear boy, you have confidence enough in me by this time to bear thatI should speak plainly to you?"

"Oh, Doctor Day, just say whatever you like!" replied the young man, fervently. 

"Very well, then. I shall speak very plainly--to wit--you'll neversucceed in Staunton! No, not if you had the genius of Galen andEsculapius, Abernethy and Benjamin Rush put together!"

"My dear sir--why?"

"Because, my son, it is written that 'a prophet hath no honor in his owncity!' Of our blessed Lord and Saviour the contemptuous Jews said, 'Isnot this Jesus, the carpenter's son?'"

"Oh, I understand you, sir!" said Traverse, with a deep blush. "You meanthat the people who used some years ago to employ me to put in theircoal and saw their wood and run their errands, will never trust me tolook 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 youwhat 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 hesitatedand blushed. 

"Clara? Yes, my son, you must go to the West, leave your mother, leaveme and leave Clara! It will be best for all parties! We managed to livewithout our lad, when he was away at his studies in Washington, and wewill 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 returnsweetened every day that passed; but if I go to the West to settle itwill be without the remotest hope of returning!"

"Not so, my boy--not so--for just as soon as Doctor Rocke hasestablished himself in some thriving western town and obtained a goodpractice, gained a high reputation and made himself a home--which, as heis a fast young man, in the best sense of the phrase--he can do in avery few years--he may come back here and carry to his western home--hismother, " said the doctor, with a mischievous twinkle of his eyes. 

"Doctor Day, I owe you more than a son's honor and obedience! I will gowherever you think it best that I should, " said Traverse, earnestly. 

"No more than I expected from all my previous knowledge of you, Traverse! And I, on my part, will give you only such counsel as I shouldgive my own son, had heaven blessed me with one. And now, Traverse, there is no better season for emigration than the spring, and no betterpoint to stop and make observations at than St. Louis! Of course, theplace of your final destination must be left for future consideration. Ihave 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 kindlythinking of my future this long time past!" said Traverse, gratefully. 

"Of course--of course! Who has a better right? Now go and break thisplan to your mother. "

Traverse pressed the doctor's hand and went to seek his mother. He foundher in his room busy among his clothing. He begged her to stop and sitdown while he talked to her. And when she had done so, he told her thedoctor's plan. He had almost feared that his mother would meet thisproposition with sighs and tears. 

To his surprise and pleasure, Mrs. Rocke received the news with anencouraging smile, telling him that the doctor had long prepared herto expect that her boy would very properly go and establish himselfin the West; that she should correspond with him frequently, and assoon as he should be settled, come and keep house for him. 

Finally she said that, anticipating this emergency, she had, during herthree years' residence beneath the doctor's roof, saved three hundreddollars, 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 yours, may they become threehundred thousand in my hands!" he exclaimed. 

Preparations were immediately commenced for Traverse's journey. 

As before, Clara gladly gave her aid in getting ready his wardrobe. Ashe 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 needlework upon all the little articlesof his outfit. Clara volunteered to mark them all. And one day, whenTraverse happened to be alone with his mother, she showed him hishandkerchiefs, collars and linen beautifully marked in minuteembroidered letters. 

"I suppose, Traverse, that you, being a young man, cannot appreciate theexquisite beauty of this work, " she said. 

"Indeed, but I can, mother! I did not sit by your side so many yearswhile you worked without knowing something about it. This is wonderful!The golden thread with which the letters are embroidered is finer thanthe finest silk I ever saw!" said Traverse, admiringly, to please hismother, whom he supposed to be the embroideress. 

"Well they may be!" said Mrs. Rocke, "for that golden thread of whichyou speak is Clara's golden hair, which she herself has drawn out andthreaded her needle with, and worked into the letters of your name. "

Traverse suddenly looked up, his color went and came, he had no words toreply. 

"I told you because I thought it would give you pleasure to know it, andthat 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 enoughto have conquered yourself, and to enjoy dear Clara's friendshiparight!"

"Mother!" he said, sorrowfully, and then his voice broke down, andwithout another word he turned and left the room. 

To feel how deeply and hopelessly he loved the doctor's sweetdaughter--to feel sure that she perceived and returned his dumb, despairing love--and to know that duty, gratitude, honor commanded himto be silent, to tear himself away from her and make no sign, was atrial almost too great for the young heart's integrity. Scarcely couldhe prevent the internal struggle betraying itself upon his countenance. As the time drew near for his departure self-control grew difficult andalmost impossible. Even Clara lost her joyous spirits and despite allher efforts to be cheerful, grew so pensive that her father, withoutseeming to understand the cause, gayly rallied her upon her dejection. 

Traverse understood it and almost longed for the day to come when heshould leave this scene of his love and his sore trial. 

One afternoon, a few days before he was to start, Doctor Day sent forTraverse to come to him in his study. And as soon as they were seatedcomfortably together at the table the doctor put into the young man'shand a well-filled pocketbook; and when Traverse, with a deep andpainful blush, would have given it back, he forced it upon him with theold argument:

"It is only a loan, my boy! Money put out at interest! Capital well andsatisfactorily invested! And now listen to me! I am about to speak toyou 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, andto esteem you as a man. I have lived long enough to value solidintegrity far beyond wealth or birth, and when that integrity is adornedand enriched by high talents, it forms a character of excellence notoften met with in this world. I have proved both your integrity and yourtalents, Traverse, and I am more than satisfied with you--I am proud ofyou, my boy. "

Traverse bowed deeply, but still blushed. 

"You will wonder, " continued the doctor, "to what all this talk tends. Iwill tell you. Traverse, I have long known your unspoken love for Clara, and I have honored your scruples in keeping silent, when silence musthave been so painful. Your trial is now over, my son! Go and open foryourself an honorable career in the profession you have chosen andmastered, and return, and Clara shall be yours!"

Traverse, overwhelmed with surprise and joy at this incredible goodfortune, seized the doctor's hand, and in wild and incoherent languagetried to express his gratitude. 

"There--there, " said the doctor, "go and tell Clara all this and bringthe roses back to her cheeks, and then your parting will be the happierfor this hope before you. "

"I must speak! I must speak first!" said the young man, in a chokingvoice. "I must tell you some little of the deep gratitude I feel foryou, sir. Oh, when I forget all that you have done for me, 'may my righthand forget her cunning!' may God and man forget me! Doctor Day, theLord helping me for your good sake, I will be all that you haveprophesied, and hope and expect of me! For your sake, for Clara's and mymother's, I will bend every power of my mind, soul and body to attainthe eminence you desire for me! In a word, the Lord giving me grace, Iwill become worthy of being your son and Clara's husband. "

"There, there, my dear boy, go and tell Clara all that!" said thedoctor, pressing the young man's hand and dismissing him. 

Traverse went immediately to seek Clara, whom he found sitting alone inthe parlor. 

She was bending over some delicate needlework that Traverse knew byinstinct was intended for himself. 

Now, had Traverse foreseen from the first the success of his love, theremight possibly have been the usual shyness and hesitation in declaringhimself to the object of his affection. But although he and Clara hadlong deeply and silently loved and understood each other, yet neitherhad dared to hope for so improbable an event as the doctor's favoringtheir attachment, and now, under the exciting influence of the surprise, joy and gratitude with which the doctor's magnanimity had filled hisheart, Traverse forgot all shyness and hesitation, and, stepping quicklyto 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 tellyou at last how much and how long I have loved you!" and then he aroseand sat down beside her. 

The blush deepened upon Clara's cheek, tears filled her eyes, and hervoice trembled as she murmured: "Heaven bless my dear father! He isunlike every other man on earth!"

"Oh, he is--he is!" said Traverse, fervently, "and, dear Clara, neverdid a man strive so hard for wealth, fame, or glory, as I shall striveto become 'worthy to be called his son!'"

"Do, Traverse--do, dear Traverse! I want you to honor even his veryhighest drafts upon your moral and intellectual capacities! I know youare 'worthy' of his high regard now, else he never would have chosen youas his son--but I am ambitious for you, Traverse! I would have yourmotto be, 'Excelsior!'--higher!" said the doctor's daughter. 

"And you, dear Clara, may I venture to hope that you do not disapproveof your father's choice, or reject the hand that he permits me to offeryou?" said Traverse, for though he understood Clara well enough, yetlike all honest men, he wanted some definite and practical engagement. 

"There is my hand--my heart was yours long ago, " murmured the maiden, ina tremulous voice. 

He took and pressed that white hand to his heart, looked hesitatinglyand pleadingly in her face for an instant, and then, drawing her gentlyto his bosom, sealed their betrothal on her pure lips. 

Then they sat side by side, and hand in hand, in a sweet silence for afew moments, and then Clara said:

"You have not told your mother yet! Go and tell her, Traverse; it willmake her so happy! And Traverse, I will be a daughter to her, while youare gone. Tell her that, too. "

"Dear girl, you have always been as kind and loving to my mother as itwas possible to be. How can you ever be more so than you have been?"

"I shall find a way!" smiled Clara. 

Again he pressed her hand to his heart and to his lips, and left theroom to find his mother. He had a search before he discovered her atlast in the drawing-room, arranging it for their evening firesidegathering. 

"Come, mother, and sit down by me on this sofa, for I have glorioustidings for your ear! Dear Clara sent me from her own side to tell you!"

"Ah, still thinking--always thinking, madly thinking of the doctor'sdaughter! Poor, poor boy!" said Mrs. Rocke. 

"Yes, and always intend to think of her to the very end of my life, andbeyond, if possible! But come, dear mother, and hear me explain!" saidTraverse, and as soon as Mrs. Rocke had taken the indicated seat, Traverse commenced and related to her the substance of the conversationbetween the doctor and himself in the library, in which the formerauthorized his addresses to his daughter, and also his own subsequentexplanation and engagement with Clara. 

Mrs. Rocke listened to all this, in unbroken silence, and when, atlength, Traverse had concluded his story, she clasped her hands andraised her eyes, uttering fervent thanksgivings to the fountain of allmercies. 

"You do not congratulate me, dear mother. "

"Oh, Traverse, I am returning thanks to heaven on your behalf! Oh, myson! my son; but that such things as these are Providential, I shouldtremble to see you so happy! So I will not presume to congratulate! Iwill pray for you!"

"Dear mother, you have suffered so much in your life that you areincredulous of happiness! Be more hopeful and confiding! The Bible says, 'There remaineth now these three--Faith, Hope and Charity--but thegreatest of all is Charity. ' You have Charity enough, dear mother; tryto have more Faith and Hope, and you will be happier! And look--there isClara coming this way! She does not know that we are here. I will callher. Dear Clara, come in and convince my mother--she will not believe inour happiness, " said Traverse, going to the door and leading hisblushing and smiling betrothed into the room. 

"It may be that Mrs. Rocke does not want me for a daughter-in-law, " saidClara, archly, as she approached and put her hand in that of Marah. 

"Not want you, my own darling!" said Marah Rocke, putting her arm aroundClara's waist, and drawing her to her bosom, "not want you! You know Iam just as much in love with you as Traverse himself can be! And I havelonged for you, my sweet, longed for you as an unattainable blessing, ever since that day when Traverse first left us, and you came and laidyour bright head on my bosom and wept with me!"

"And now if we must cry a little when Traverse leaves us, we can go andtake comfort in being miserable together, with a better understanding ofour relations!" said Clara with an arch smile. 

"Where are you all? Where is everybody--that I am left wandering aboutthe lonely house like a poor ghost in Hades?" said the doctor's cheerfulvoice in the passage without. 

"Here, father--here we are--a family party, wanting only you to completeit, " answered his daughter, springing to meet him. 

The doctor came in smiling, pressed his daughter to his bosom, shookTraverse cordially by the hand, and kissed Marah Rocke's cheek. That washis 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 withcalamity--calamity that must have overwhelmed the stability of any faithwhich was not as theirs was--stayed upon God. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

A PANIC IN 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 fear, 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 andcaptured by the presence of mind of Capitola at Hurricane Hall, BlackDonald, disguised as a negro, was lurking in the woods around themansion, waiting for the coming of his three men with their prize. 

But as hour after hour passed and they came not, the desperado beganheartily to curse their sloth--for to no other cause was he enabled toattribute the delay, as he knew the house, the destined scene of theoutrage, to be deserted by all for the night, except by the threehelpless females. 

As night waned and morning began to dawn in the east, the chief grewseriously uneasy at the prolonged absence of his agents--a circumstancethat he could only account for upon the absurd hypothesis that thosestupid brutes had suffered themselves to be overtaken by sleep in theirambuscade. 

While he was cursing their inefficiency, and regretting that he had nothimself made one of the party, he wandered in his restlessness toanother part of the woods, and the opposite side of the house. 

He had not been long here before his attention was arrested by thetramping of approaching horsemen. He withdrew into the shade of thethicket and listened while the travelers went by. 

The party proved to consist of Old Hurricane, Herbert Greyson and theSheriff's officers, on their way from the town to Hurricane Hall to takethe captured burglars into custody. And Black Donald, by listeningattentively, gathered enough from their conversation to know that hismen had been discovered and captured by the heroism of Capitola. 

"That girl again!" muttered Black Donald, to himself. "She is doomed tobe my destruction, or I hers! Our fates are evidently connected! PoorSteve! Poor Dick! Poor Hal! Little did I think that your devotion toyour captain would carry you into the very jaws of death--pshaw! hangit! Let boys and women whine! I must act!"

And with this resolution Black Donald dogged the path of the horsemenuntil he had reached that part of the woods skirting the road oppositethe park gate. Here he hid himself in the bushes to watch events. Soonfrom his hiding place he saw the wagon approach, containing the threemen, heavily ironed and escorted by a strong guard of county constablesand plantation negroes, all well armed, and under the command of theSheriff and Herbert Greyson. 

"Ha, ha, ha! They must dread an attempt on our part of rescue, or theynever would think of putting such a formidable guard over three woundedand handcuffed men!" laughed Black Donald to himself. 

"Courage, my boys, " he muttered. "Your chief will free you from prisonor share your captivity! I wish I could trumpet that into your ears atthis moment, but prudence, 'the better part of valor, ' forbids! For thesame words that would encourage you would warn your captors into greatervigilance. " And so saying Black Donald let the procession pass, and thenmade tracks for his retreat. 

It was broad daylight when he reached the Old Inn. The robbers, worn outwith waiting and watching for the captain and his men with the fairprize, had thrown themselves down upon the kitchen floor, and now lay inevery sort of awkward attitude, stretched out or doubled up in heavysleep. The old beldame had disappeared--doubtless she had long sincesought her night lair. 

Taking a poker from the corner of the fireplace, Black Donald wentaround among the sleeping robbers and stirred them up, with vigorouspunches in the ribs and cries of:

"Wake up!--dolts! brutes! blockheads! Wake up! You rest on a volcanoabout to break out! You sleep over a mine about to be exploded! Wakeup!--sluggards that you are! Your town is taken! Your castle is stormed!The enemy is at your throats with drawn swords! Ah, brutes, will youwake, then, or shall I have to lay it on harder?"

"What the demon?"

"How now?"

"What's this?" were some of the ejaculations of the men as they slowlyand sulkily roused themselves from their heavy slumber. 

"The house is on fire! The ship's sinking! The cars have run off thetrack! The boiler's burst, and the devil's to pay!" cried Black Donald, accompanying his words with vigorous punches of the poker into the ribsof the recumbent men. 

"What the foul fiend ails you, captain? Have you got the girl and drunktoo much liquor on your wedding night?" asked one of the men. 

"No, Mac, 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 andSteve are safely lodged in the county jail!"

"What?"

"Perdition!"

"My eye!"

"Here's a go!" were the simultaneous exclamations of the men as theysprang 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 ofthat blamed witch, Capitola!" said Black Donald, who then gave a rapidaccount of the adventure, and the manner in which Capitola entrapped andcaptured the burglars, together with the way in which he himself came bythe information. 

"I declare, one can't help liking that girl! I should admire her even ifshe should put a rope about my neck!" said Mac. 

"She's a brick!" said another, with emphasis. 

"She's some pumpkins, now, I tell you!" assented a third. 

"I am more than ever resolved to get her into my possession! But in themean time, lads, we must evacuate the Old Inn! It is getting too hot tohold us!"

"Aye, captain!"

"Aye, lads, listen! We must talk fast and act promptly; the poor fellowsup there in jail are game, I know! They would not willingly peach, butthey are badly wounded. If one of them should have to die, and beblessed with a psalm-singing parson to attend him, no knowing what hemay be persuaded to confess! Therefore, let us quickly decide upon somenew rendezvous that will be unsuspected, even by our poor caged birds!If any of you have any place in your eye, speak!"

"We would rather hear what you have to say, captain, " said Mac; and allthe 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--thatabout half-way down that awful chasm, in the side of the rock, is ahole, concealed by a clump of evergreens; that hole is the entrance to acavern of enormous extent! Let that be our next rendezvous! And now, avaunt! Fly! Scatter! and meet me in the cavern to-night, at the usualhour! Listen--carry away all our arms, ammunition, disguises andprovisions--so that no vestige of our presence may be left behind. Asfor dummy, if they can make her speak, the cutting out of her tongue waslost 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 theauthorities off their guard. Then if our pals recover from their wounds, and have proved game against Church and State, I shall know whatmeasures to take for their deliverance! No more talk now--prepare foryour flitting and fly!"

The captain's orders were obeyed, and within two hours from that time novestige of the robbers' presence remained in the deserted Old Inn. 

If any Sheriff's officer had come there with a search-warrant, he wouldhave found nothing suspicious; he would have seen only a poor old dumbwoman, busy at her spinning wheel; and if he had questioned her wouldonly have got smiles and shakes of the head for an answer, or theexhibitions of coarse country gloves and stockings of her own knitting, which she would, in dumb-show, beg him to purchase. 

Days and weeks passed and the three imprisoned burglars languished injail, each in a separate cell. 

Bitterly each in his heart complained of the leader that had, apparently, deserted them in their direst need. And if neither betrayedhim it was probably because they could not do so without deeplycriminating themselves, and for no better motive. 

There is said to be "honor among thieves. " It is, on the face of it, untrue; there can be neither honor, confidence nor safety among menwhose profession is crime. The burglars, therefore, had no confidence intheir leader, and secretly and bitterly reproached him for his desertionof them. 

Meanwhile the annual camp meeting season approached. It was rumored thata camp meeting would be held in the wooded vale below Tip-Top, and soonthis report was confirmed by announcements in all the county papers. Andall who intended to take part in the religious festival or have a tenton the ground began to prepare provisions--cooking meat and poultry, baking bread, cakes, pies, etc. And preachers from all parts of thecountry were flocking in to the village to be on the spot for thecommencement. 

Mrs. Condiment, though a member of another church, loved in her soul thereligious excitement--"the warming up, " as she called it, to be had atthe camp meeting! But never in the whole course of her life had shetaken part in one, except so far as riding to the preaching in themorning and returning 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 Hurricane Hall--andpraying not against but wishing for--fire, floods or thieves, oranything to stir her stagnant blood, heard of the camp meeting, andexpressed a wish to have a tent on the camp ground and remain there fromthe beginning to the end, to see all that was to be seen; hear all thatwas to be heard; feel all that was to be felt, and learn all that was tobe known!

And as Capitola, ever since her victory over the burglars, had been thequeen regnant of Hurricane Hall, she had only to express this wish tohave it carried into immediate effect. 

Old Hurricane himself went up to Tip-Top and purchased the canvas andset 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 onthe camp ground. As soon as it was set up under the shade of a grove ofoak trees a wagon from Hurricane Hall conveyed to the spot the simpleand necessary furniture, cooking materials and provisions. And the samemorning the family carriage, driven by Wool, brought out Major Warfield, Mrs. Condiment, Capitola and her little maid Patty. 

The large tent was divided into two compartments--one for Major Warfieldand his man Wool--the other for Mrs. Condiment, Capitola and Patty. 

As the family party stepped out of the carriage, the novelty, freshnessand beauty of the scene called forth a simultaneous burst of admiration. The little snow-white tents were dotted here and there through thewoods, in beautiful contrast with the greenness of the foliage, groupsof well-dressed and cheerful-looking men, women and children werewalking about; over all smiled a morning sky of cloudless splendor. Thepreachings and the prayer meetings had not yet commenced. Indeed, manyof the brethren were hard at work in an extensive clearing, setting up arude pulpit, and arranging rough benches to accommodate the women andchildren of the camp congregation. 

Our party went into their tent, delighted with the novelty of the wholething, though Old Hurricane declared that it was nothing new to hisexperience, but reminded him strongly of his campaigning days. 

Wool assented, saying that the only difference was, there were no ladiesin the old military camp. 

I have neither time nor space to give a full account of this campmeeting. The services commenced the same evening. There were preachersof more or less fervor, of piety and eloquence of utterance. OldChristians had their "first love" revived; young ones found their zealkindled, 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 preacherin the field. He seemed a man considerably past middle age and brokendown with sickness or sorrow. His figure was tall, thin and stooping;his hair white as snow, his face pale and emaciated; his movements slowand feeble, and his voice low and unsteady! He wore a solemn suit ofblack, that made his thin form seem of skeleton proportions; asnow-white neck-cloth, 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 ofburning eloquence. Every one sought his society; and when it was knownthat Father Gray was to hold forth, the whole camp congregation turnedout to hear him. 

It must not be supposed that in the midst of this great revival thosepoor "sinners above all sinners, " the burglars imprisoned in theneighboring town, were forgotten! no, they were remembered, prayed for, visited and exhorted. And no one took more interest in the fate of thesemen than good Mrs. Condiment, who, having seen them all on that greatnight at Hurricane Hall, and having with her own kind hands plasteredtheir heads and given them possets, could not drive out of her heart acertain compassion for their miseries. 

No one, either, admired Father Gray more than did the little oldhousekeeper of Hurricane Hall, and as her table and her accommodationswere the best on the camp ground, she often invited and pressed goodFather Gray to rest and refresh himself in her tent. And the old man, though a severe ascetic, yielded to her repeated solicitations, until atlength he seemed to live there altogether. 

One day Mrs. Condiment, being seriously exercised upon the subject ofthe imprisoned men, said to Father Gray, who was reposing himself in thetent:

"Father Gray, I wished to speak to you, sir, upon the subject of thosepoor wretched men who are to be tried for their lives at the next termof the Criminal Court. Our ministers have all been to see them, andtalked to them, but not one of the number can make the least impressionon them, or bring them to any sense of their awful condition!"

"Ah, that is dreadful!" sighed the aged man. 

"Yes, dreadful, Father Gray! Now I thought if you would only visit themyou could surely bring them to reason!"

"My dear friend, I would willingly do so, but I must confess to you aweakness--a great weakness of the flesh--I have a natural shrinking frommen 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 thatif you cannot overcome that feeling you should act in direct oppositionto it! And, I assure you, there is no danger! Why, even I should not beat all afraid of a robber when he is double-ironed and locked up in acell, and I should enter guarded by a pair of turnkeys!"

"I know it, my dear lady, I know it, and I feel that I ought to overcomethis weakness or do my duty in its despite. "

"Yes, and if you would consent to go, Father Gray, I would not mindgoing with you myself, if that would encourage you any!"

"Of course it would, my dear friend; and if you will go with me, and ifthe brethren think that I could do any good I will certainly endeavor toconquer my repugnance and visit these imprisoned men. "

It was arranged that Father Gray, accompanied by Mrs. Condiment, shouldgo to the jail upon the following morning; and, accordingly, they setout immediately after breakfast. A short ride up the mountain broughtthem to Tip-Top, in the center of which stood the jail. It was a simplestructure of gray stone, containing within its own walls the apartmentsoccupied by the warden. To these Mrs. Condiment, who was the leader inthe whole matter, first presented herself, introducing Father Gray asone of the preachers of the camp meeting, a very pious man, and veryeffective in his manner of dealing with hardened offenders. 

"I have heard of the Rev. Mr. Gray and his powerful exhortations, " saidthe warden, with a low bow; "and I hope he may be able to make someimpression on these obdurate men and induce them, if possible, to 'makea clean breast of it, ' and give up the retreat of their band. Each ofthem has been offered a free pardon on condition of turning State'sevidence and each has refused. "

"Indeed! have they done so, case-hardened creatures?" mildly inquiredFather Gray. 

"Aye, have they; but you, dear sir, may be able to persuade them to doso. "

"I shall endeavor! I shall endeavor!" said the mild old man. 

The warden then requested the visitors to follow him and led the wayup-stairs to the cells. 

"I understand that the criminals are confined separately?" said Mr. Grayto the warden. 

"No, sir; they were so confined at first, for better security, but asthey have been very quiet, and as since those rowdies that disturbed thecamp meeting have been sent to prison and filled up our cells, we havehad to put those three robbers into one cell. "

"I'm afraid I--" began the minister, hesitating. 

"Father Gray is nervous, good Mr. Jailor; I hope there's no danger fromthese dreadful men--all of them together--for I promised Father Graythat he should be safe, myself, " said Mrs. Condiment. 

"Oh, ma'am, undoubtedly; they are double-ironed, " said the warden, as heunlocked 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 deep 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 enteredthe 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 ofsouls!"

"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. 

"Yaw-aw-aw-ow!" yawned Steve, half rising and stretching himself. "What's the row? I was just dreaming our captain had come to deliverus--yow-aw-aw-ooh! It's only another parson!" and with that Steve turnedhimself over and settled to sleep. 

"My dear Mr. Jailer, do you think that these men are safe--for if youdo, I think we had better leave excellent Mr. Gray to talk to themalone--he can do them so much more 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'seyes. 

"N-no! n-no! n-no!" faltered the preacher, nervously taking hold of thecoat of the warden. 

"You go along out of this the whole of you! I'm not a wild beast in acage to be stared at!" growled Demon Dick with a baleful glare that sentMrs. Condiment and the preacher, shuddering to the cell door. 

"Mr. Gray, I do assure you, sir, there is no danger! The men aredouble-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 toconfession and do the community much service, " said the warden. 

"I--I--I'm no coward, but--but--but--" faltered the old man, tremblinglyapproaching 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 the good ladyhere will keep within call, in case of accidents, I don't mind if I doremain 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 inthe lobby and I'll send for my old woman and we three can have a goodtalk while the worthy Mr. Gray is speaking to the prisoners, " said thewarden, conducting the housekeeper from the cell. 

As soon as they had gone the old man went to the door and peeped afterthem, and having seen that they went to the extremity of the lobby to aseat under an open window, he turned back to the cell, and, going up toHal, said in a low, voice:

"Now, then, is it possible that you do not know me?"

Hal stopped twiddling his fingers and looked up at the tall, thin, stooping figure, the gray hair, the white eyebrows and the pale face, and said gruffly:

"No! May the demon fly away with me if I ever saw you before!"

"Nor you, Dick?" inquired the old man, in a mild voice, turning to theone addressed. 

"No, burn you, nor want to see you now!"

"Steve! Steve!" said the old man, in a pitiful voice, waking the sleeper. "Don't you know me, either?"

"Don't bother me, " said that worthy, giving himself another turn andanother settle to sleep. 

"Dolts! blockheads! brutes! Do you know me now?" growled the visitor, changing his voice. 

"Our captain!"

"Our captain!"

"Our captain!" they simultaneously cried. 

"Hush! sink your souls! Do you want to bring the warden upon us?"growled Black Donald, for it was unquestionably him in a newmetamorphosis. 

"Then all I have to say, captain, is that you have left us here a blamedlong time!"

"And exposed 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 purpose!"

"Now, may Satan roast me alive if I know what you have done to turnyourself into an old man! Burn my soul, if 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 whatno captain ever did for his men before! I had exhausted all manner ofdisguises, so that the authorities would almost have looked for me in anold woman's gown! See, then, what I did! I put myself on a month'sregimen of vegetable diet, and kept myself in a cavern until I grew aspale and thin as a hermit! Then I shaved off my hair, beard, mustachesand eyebrows! Yes, blame you, I sacrificed all my beauty to yourinterests! Fate helps those who help themselves! The camp meetinggathering together hosts of people and preachers gave me the opportunityof appearing without exciting inquiry. I put on a gray wig, a blacksuit, assumed a feeble voice, stooping gait and a devout manner, and--became a popular preacher at the camp meeting. "

"Captain, you're a brick! You are indeed! I do not flatter you!" saidHal. It was a sentiment in which all agreed. 

"I had no need of further machination!" continued the captain; "theyactually gave me the game! I was urged to visit you here--forced toremain alone and talk with you!" laughed Black Donald. 

"And now, captain, my jewel, my treasure, my sweetheart--that I lovewith 'a love passing the love of woman'--how is your reverence going toget us out?"

"Listen!" said the captain, diving into his pockets, "you must getyourselves out! This prison is by no means strongly fastened or wellguarded! Here are files to file off your fetters! Here are tools to pickthe locks, and here are three loaded revolvers to use against any of theturnkey who might discover and attempt to stop you! To-night, however, is the last of the camp meeting, and the two turnkeys are among myhearers! I shall keep them all night! Now you know what to do! I mustleave you! Dick, try to make an assault on me that I may scream, butfirst conceal your tools and arms!"

Hal hid the instruments and Dick, with an awful roar, sprang at thevisitor, who ran to the grating crying:

"Help--help!"

The warden came hurrying to the spot. 

"Take 'im out o' this, then!" muttered Dick, sulkily getting back intohis corner. 

"Oh, what a wretch!" said Mrs. Condiment. 

"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 rathernot come again, being sickly and nervous, " faltered Father Gray. 

"No, my dear good sir! I for one shall not ask you to risk your precioushealth for such a set of wretches! They are Satan's own! You shall comehome to our tent and lie down to rest, and I will make you an egg-caudlethat will set you up again, " said Mrs. Condiment, tenderly, as the wholeparty left the cell. 

That day the outrageous conduct of the imprisoned burglars was thesubject of conversation, even dividing the interest of the religiousexcitement. 

But the next morning the whole community was thrown into a state ofconsternation by the discovery that the burglars had broken jail andfled, and that the notorious outlaw Black Donald had been in their verymidst, disguised as an elderly field preacher. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE VICTORY OVER DEATH. 

 "Glory to God! to God!" he saith, "Knowledge by suffering entereth, And life is perfected in death. " --E. B. Browning. 

One morning, in the gladness of his heart, Doctor Day mounted his horseand rode down to Staunton, gayly refusing to impart the object of hisride to any one, and bidding Traverse stay with the women until heshould return. 

As soon as the doctor was gone, Traverse went into the library toarrange his patron's books and papers. 

Mrs. Rocke and Clara hurried away to attend to some little mystery oftheir own invention for the surprise and delight of the doctor andTraverse. For the more secret accomplishment of their purpose, they haddismissed all attendance, and were at work alone in Mrs. Rocke's room. And here Clara's sweet, frank and humble disposition was again manifest, for when Marah would arise from her seat to get anything, Clara wouldforestall 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!"

"You are very good, dear Miss Clara, but--I would rather not presume toask 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 'Clara' or 'child'--do, mamma, " said thedoctor'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, andwhile Traverse was still engaged in arranging the doctor's books andpapers that one of the men-servants rapped at the library door, andwithout waiting permission to come in, entered the room with every markof 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 thestables all in foam, without his rider!"

"Good heaven!" exclaimed Traverse, starting up and seizing his hat. "Follow me immediately! Hurry to the stables and saddle my horse andbring him up instantly! We must follow on the road the doctor took tosee what has happened! Stay! On your life, breathe not a word of whathas occurred! I would not have Miss Day alarmed for the world!" heconcluded, hastening down-stairs attended by the servant. 

In five minutes from the time he left the library Traverse was in thesaddle, galloping toward Staunton, and looking attentively along theroad as he went. Alas! he had not gone far, when, in descending thewooded hill, he saw lying doubled up helplessly on the right side of thepath, the body of the good doctor!

With an exclamation between a groan and a cry of anguish, Traverse threwhimself from his saddle and kneeled beside the fallen figure, gazing inan agony of anxiety upon the closed eyes, pale features and contractedform and crying:

"Oh, heaven have mercy! Doctor Day, oh, Doctor Day! Can you speak tome?"

The white and quivering eyelids opened and the faltering 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, myfriend! My dear, dear friend!" cried Traverse, wringing his hands insuch anguish as he had never known before. 

Then feeling the need of self-control and the absolute necessity ofremoving the sufferer, Traverse repressed the swelling flood of sorrowin his bosom and cast about for the means of conveying the doctor to hishouse. He dreaded to leave him for an instant, and yet it was necessaryto do so, as the servant whom he had ordered to follow him had not yetcome up. 

While he was bathing the doctor's face with water from a little streambeside the path, John, the groom, came riding along, and seeing hisfallen master, with an exclamation of horror, sprang from his saddle andran to the spot. 

"John, " said Traverse, in a heart-broken tone, "mount again and ride foryour life to the house! Have--a cart--yes--that will be the easiestconveyance--have a cart got ready instantly with a feather bed placed init, and the gentlest horse harnessed to it, and drive it here to theroadside at the head of this path! Hasten for your life! Say not a wordof what has happened lest it should terrify the ladies! Quick! quick! onyour life!"

Again, as the man was hurrying away, the doctor spoke, faintlymurmuring:

"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 couldto soothe and alleviate the sufferings of the doctor, until the arrivalof the cart, that stopped on the road at the head of the little bridlepath, where the accident happened. Then John jumped from the driver'sseat and came to the spot, where he tenderly assisted the young man inraising the doctor and conveying him to the cart and laying him upon thebed. Notwithstanding all their tender care in lifting and carrying him, it was but too evident that he suffered greatly in being moved. Slowlyas they proceeded, at every jolt of the cart, his corrugated brows andblanched and quivering lips told how much agony he silently endured. 

Thus at last they reached home. He was carefully raised by the bed andborne into the house and up-stairs to his own chamber, where, beingundressed, he was laid upon his own easy couch. Traverse sent off forother medical aid, administered a restorative and proceeded to examinehis injuries. 

"It is useless, dear boy--useless all! You have medical knowledge enoughto be as sure of that as I am. Cover me up and let me compose myselfbefore seeing Clara, and while I do so, go you and break this newsgently to the poor child!" said the doctor, who, being under theinfluence of the restorative, spoke more steadily than at any time sincethe fall Traverse, almost broken-hearted, obeyed his benefactor and wentto seek his betrothed, praying the Lord to teach him how to tell herthis dreadful calamity and to support her under its crushing weight. 

As he went slowly, wringing his hands, he suddenly met Clara with herdress in disorder and her hair flying, just as she had run from her roomwhile dressing for dinner. Hurrying toward him, she exclaimed:

"Traverse, what has happened? For the good Lord's sake, tell mequickly--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 storeroom, with her face as white as death! Oh, what does it all mean?"

"Clara, love, come and sit down; you are almost fainting--(oh, heaven, support her!)" murmured Traverse, as he led the poor girl to the hallsofa. 

"Tell me! Tell me!" she said. 

"Clara--your father----"

"My father! No, no--no--do not say any harm has happened to myfather--do not, Traverse!--do not!"

"Oh, Clara, try to be firm, dear one!"

"My father! Oh, my father!--he is dead!" shrieked Clara, starting upwildly to run, she knew not whither. 

Traverse sprang up and caught her arm and drawing her gently back to herseat, said:

"No, dear Clara--no, not so bad as that--he is living!"

"Oh, thank heaven for so much! What is it, then, Traverse? He is ill!Oh, let me go to him!"

"Stay, dear Clara--compose yourself first! You would not go and disturbhim with this frightened and distressed face of yours--let me get you aglass of water, " said Traverse, starting up and bringing the neededsedative from an adjoining room. 

"There, Clara, drink that and offer a silent prayer to heaven to giveyou self-control. "

"I will--oh, I must for his sake! But tell me, Traverse, is it--is it asI fear--as he expected--apoplexy?"

"No, dear love--no. He rode out this morning and his horse gotfrightened by the van of a circus company that was going into the town, and----"

"And ran away with him and threw him! Oh, heaven! Oh, my dear father!"exclaimed Clara, once more clasping her hands wildly, and starting up. 

Again Traverse promptly but gently detained her, saying:

"You promised me to be calm, dear Clara, and you must be so, before Ican suffer you to see your father. "

Clara sank into her seat and covered her face with her hands, murmuring, in a broken voice:

"How can I be? Oh, how can I be, when my heart is with grief and fright?Traverse! Was he--was he--oh, dread to ask you! Oh, was he much hurt?"

"Clara, love, his injuries are internal! Neither he nor I yet know theirfull extent. I have sent off for two old and experienced practitionersfrom Staunton. I expect them every moment. In the mean time, I have doneall that is possible for his relief. "

"Traverse, " said Clara, very calmly, controlling herself by an almostsuperhuman effort, "Traverse, I will be composed; you shall see that Iwill; take me to my dear father's bedside; it is there that I ought tobe!"

"That is my dear, brave, dutiful girl! Come, Clara!" replied the youngman, taking her hand and leading her up to the bed-chamber of thedoctor. They met Mrs. Rocke at the door, who tearfully signed them to goin as she left it. 

When they entered and approached the bedside, Traverse saw that thesuffering but heroic father must have made some superlative effortbefore he could have reduced his haggard face and writhing form to itspresent state of placid repose, to meet his daughter's eyes and spareher feelings. 

She, on her part, was no less firm. Kneeling beside his couch, she tookhis 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 anafternoon'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 thedoctor, not so much for the sake of the reviving perfume, as because heknew 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. Rocke re-entered the room, announcing that the twoold physicians from Staunton, Doctor Dawson and Doctor Williams, hadarrived. 

"Show them up, Mrs. Rocke. Clara, love, retire while the physiciansremain with me, " said Doctor Day. 

Mrs. Rocke left the room to do his bidding. And Clara followed andsought the privacy of her own apartment to give way to the overwhelminggrief which she could no longer resist. 

As soon as she was gone the doctor also yielded to the force of thesuffering that he had been able to endure silently in her presence, andwrithed and groaned with agony--that wrung the heart of Traverse tobehold. 

Presently the two physicians entered the room and approached the bed, with expressions of sincere grief at beholding their old friend in sucha condition and a hope that they might speedily be able to relieve him. 

To all of which the doctor, repressing all exhibitions of pain andholding out his hand in a cheerful manner, replied:

"I am happy to see you in a friendly way, old friends! I am willing alsothat you should try what you--what you can do for me--but I warn youthat it will be useless! A few hours or days of inflammation, fever andagony, then the ease of mortification, then dissolution!"

"Tut--tut, " said Doctor Williams, cheerfully. "We never permit a patientto pronounce a prognosis upon his own case!"

"Friend, my horse ran away, stumbled and fell upon me, and rolled overme in getting up. The viscera is crushed within me; breathing isdifficult; speech painful; motion agonizing; but you may examine andsatisfy yourselves, " said Doctor Day, still speaking cheerfully, thoughwith great suffering. 

His old friends proceeded gently to the examination, which resulted intheir silently and perfectly coinciding in opinion with the patienthimself. 

Then, with Doctor Day and Traverse, they entered into a consultation andagreed upon the best palliatives that could be administered, and beggingthat if in any manner, professionally or otherwise, they could servetheir suffering friend, at any hour of the day or night, they might besummoned, they took leave. 

As soon as they had gone, Clara, who had given way to a flood of tears, and regained her composure, rapped for admittance. 

"Presently, dear daughter--presently, " said the doctor, who then, beckoning Traverse to stoop low, said:

"Do not let Clara sit up with me to-night. I foresee a night of greatanguish which I may not be able to repress, and which I would not haveher witness! Promise you will keep her away. "

"I promise, " faltered the almost broken-hearted youth. "You may admither now, " said the doctor, composing his convulsed countenance as besthe could, lest the sight of his sufferings should distress hisdaughter. 

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 andpain arose to such a degree that the doctor could no longer forbearbetraying his excessive suffering, which was, besides, momentarilyincreasing, so he said to Clara:

"My child, you must now leave me and retire to bed. I must be watched byTraverse alone to-night. "

And Traverse, seeing her painful hesitation, between her extremereluctance to leave him and her wish to obey him, approached andmurmured:

"Dear Clara, it would distress him to have you stay; he will be muchbetter attended by me alone. "

Clara still hesitated; and Traverse, beckoning his mother to come andspeak to her, left her side. 

Mrs. Rocke approached her and said: "It must be so, dear girl, for youknow that there are some cases in which sick men should be watched bymen only, and this is one of them. I myself shall sit up to-night in thenext 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 thatyou should go to bed and rest. Do not distress him by refusing. "

"Oh, and am I to go to bed and sleep while my dear father lies heresuffering? I cannot; oh, I cannot. "

"My dear, yes, you must; and if you cannot sleep you can lie awake andpray for him. "

Here the doctor, whose agony was growing unendurable, called out:

"Go, Clara, go at once, my dear. "

She went back to the bedside and pressed her lips to his forehead, andput her arms around him and prayed:

"Oh, my dear father, may the blessed Saviour take you in his pityingembrace and give you ease to-night. Your poor Clara will pray for you asshe never prayed for herself. "

"May the Lord bless you, my sweet child, " said the doctor, lifting onehand painfully and laying it in benediction on her fair and gracefulhead. 

Then she arose and left the room, saying to Mrs. Rocke as she went:

"Oh, Mrs. Rocke, only last evening we were so happy--'But if we havereceived good things at the hand of God, why should we not receiveevil?'"

"Yes, my child; but remember nothing is really evil that comes from Hisgood hand, " said Mrs. Rocke, as she attended Clara to the door. 

His daughter had no sooner gone out of hearing than the doctor gave wayto his irrepressible groans. 

At a sign from Traverse Mrs. Rocke went and took up her position in theadjoining room. 

Then Traverse subdued the light in the sick chamber, arranged thepillows of the couch, administered a sedative and took up his postbeside the bed, where he continued to watch and nurse the patient withunwearied devotion. 

At the dawn of day, when Clara rapped at the door, he was in nocondition to be seen by his daughter. 

Clara was put off with some plausible excuse. 

After breakfast his friends the physicians called and spent severalhours in his room. Clara was told that she must not come in while theywere there. And so, by one means and another, the poor girl was sparedfrom witnessing those dreadful agonies which, had she seen them, musthave so bitterly increased her distress. 

In the afternoon, during a temporary mitigation of pain, Clara wasadmitted to see her father. But in the evening, as his sufferingsaugmented, she was again, upon the same excuse that had been used thepreceding evening, dismissed to her chamber. 

Then passed another night of suffering, during which Traverse never lefthim for an instant. 

Toward morning the fever and pain abated, and he fell into a sweetsleep. About sunrise he awoke quite free from suffering. Alas! it wasthe ease that he had predicted--the ease preceding dissolution. 

"It is gone forever now, Traverse, my boy; thank God my last hours willbe 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 hereuntil all is over?"

"Oh, yes, sir, yes; I would do anything on earth--anything for you! Iwould lay down my life this hour if I could do so to save you from thisbed of death. "

"Nay, do not talk so; your young life belongs to others--to Clara andyour mother. 'God doeth all things well. ' Better the ripened ear shouldfall 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 me, but heaven is sweeter. "

"Oh, but we love you so! we love you so! you have so much to live for!"exclaimed Traverse, with an irrepressible burst of grief. 

"Poor boy, life is too hopeful before you to make you a comforter by adeath-bed. 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 leaveyou in the hands of the Lord, and with every blessing and promise of Hisbountiful providence. Your love will console my child. My confidence inyou makes me easy in committing her to your charge. "

"Oh, Doctor Day, may the Lord so deal with my soul eternally as I shalldischarge this trust, " said Traverse, earnestly. 

"I know that you will be true; I wish you to remain here with Clara andyour mother for a few weeks, until the child's first violence of griefshall be over. Then you had best pursue the plan we laid out. Leave yourgood mother here to take care of Clara, and you go to the West, get intopractice 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 Traverse, fervently. 

"My child is but seventeen; she is so gentle that her will is subject tothat of all she loves, especially to yours. She will do anything inconscience that you ask her to do. Traverse, I wish you to promise methat you will not press her to marriage until she shall be at leasttwenty years old. And----"

"Oh, sir, I promise! Oh, believe me, my affection for Clara is so pureand so constant, as well as so confiding in her faith and so solicitousfor her good, that, with the assurance of her love and the privilege ofvisiting 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 isas much for your sake as for hers. No girl can marry before she istwenty without serious risk of life, and almost certain loss of healthand beauty; that so many do so is one reason why there are such numbersof sickly and faded young wives. If Clara's constitution should bebroken down by prematurely assuming the cares and burdens of matrimony, you would be as unfortunate in having a sickly wife as she would be inlosing her health. "

"Oh, sir, I promise you that, no matter how much I may wish to do so, Iwill not be tempted to make a wife of Clara until she has attained theage you have prescribed. But at the same time I must assure you thatsuch is my love for her that, if accident should now make her an invalidfor life, she would be as dear--as dear--yes, much dearer to me, ifpossible, 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 nightand day. Oh, believe this of me, and leave your dear daughter with aneasy mind to my faithful care, " said Traverse, with a boyish blushsuffusing 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?"

"No, no; I must talk while I have time. I was about to say that long agomy 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. Ihave made no reservation in her favor against you; for he to whom I canentrust the higher charge of my daughter's person, happiness and honor Ican also intrust her fortune. "

"Dear sir, I am glad for Clara's sake that she has a fortune; as for me, I hope you will believe me that I would have gladly dispensed with itand 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 anticipated the present relations between you and mydaughter, and while you were both still children. Therefore, I appointedmy wife's half-brother, Clara's only male relative, Colonel Le Noir, asher guardian. It is true we have never been very intimate, for our pathsin life widely diverged; nor has my Clara seen him within herrecollection; for, since her mother's death, which took place in herinfancy, he has never been at our house, but he is a man of highreputation and excellent character. I have already requested DoctorWilliams to write for him, so that I expect he will be here in a veryfew days. When he comes Traverse, you will tell him that it is my desirethat my daughter shall continue to reside in her present home, retainingMrs. Rocke as her matronly companion. I have also requested DoctorWilliams to tell him the same thing, so that in the mouths of twowitnesses my words may be established. "

Now, Traverse had never in his life before heard the name of Colonel LeNoir; and, therefore, was in no position to warn the dying father whoplaced so much confidence in the high reputation of his brother-in-lawthat his trust was miserably misplaced; that he was leaving his fairdaughter and her large fortune to the tender mercies of an unscrupulousvillain and a consummate hypocrite. So he merely promised to deliver themessage with which he was charged by the dying father for his daughter'sguardian, and added that he had no doubt but Clara's uncle wouldconsider 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 hisdaughter should be admitted. 

Marah brought with her some wine-whey that her patient drank, and fromwhich he received temporary strength. 

Clara was pale but calm; one could see at a glance that the poor girlwas prepared for the worst, and had nerved her gentle heart to bear itwith patience. 

"Come hither, my little Clara, " said the doctor, as soon as he had beenrevived by the whey. 

Clara came and kissed his brow and sat beside him with her hands claspedin his. 

"My little girl, what did our Saviour die for? First to redeem us, andalso to teach us by His burial and resurrection that death is but afalling asleep in this world and an awakening in the next. Clara, afterthis, when you think of your father, do not think of him as lying in thegrave, for he will not be there in his vacated body, no more than hewill be in the trunk with his cast-off entries. As the coat is thebody's covering, so the body is the soul's garment, and it is the soulthat is the innermost and real man; it is my soul that is me; and thatwill not be in the earth, but in heaven; therefore, do not think of megloomily as lying in the grave, but cheerfully as living in heaven--asliving 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 manyyears. Think of me as being happy in that blessed society. Do not fancythat it is your duty to grieve, but, on the contrary, know that it isyour duty to be as cheerful and happy as possible. Do you heed me, mydaughter?"

"Oh, yes, yes, dear father!" said Clara, heroically repressing hergrief. 

"Seek for yourself, dear child, a nearer union with Christ and God. Seekit, Clara, until the spirit of God shall bear witness with your spiritthat you are as a child of God; so shall you, as you come to lie where Ido now, be able to say of your life and death, as I say with truth ofmine: The journey has been pleasant, but the goal is blessed. "

The doctor pressed his daughter's hand and dropped suddenly into an easysleep. 

Mrs. Rocke drew Clara away, and the room was very still. 

Sweet, beautiful and lovely as is the death-bed of a Christian, we willnot linger too long beside it. 

All day the good man's bodily life ebbed gently away. He spoke atintervals, as he had strength given him, words of affection, comfort andcounsel to those around him. 

Just as the setting sun was pouring his last rays into the chamberDoctor Day laid his hand upon his child's head and blessed her. Then, closing his eyes, he murmured softly: "'Lord Jesus, into thy hands Iresign my spirit:'" and with that sweet, deep, intense smile that hadbeen so lovely in life--now so much lovelier in death--his pure spiritwinged its flight to the realms of eternal bliss. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

THE ORPHAN. 

 "Let me die, father! 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 Marah Rocke, softly. 

The orphan started, gazed wildly on the face of the dead, turned ghastlypale and, with a low moan and suffocating sob, fell fainting into themotherly arms of Mrs. Rocke. 

Marah beckoned Traverse, who lifted the insensible girl tenderly in hisarms and, preceded by his mother, bore her to her chamber and laid herupon the bed. 

Then Marah dismissed Traverse to attend to the duties owed to theremains of the beloved departed, while she herself stayed with Clara, using every means for her restoration. 

Clara opened her eyes at length, but in reviving to life also returnedto grief. Dreadful to witness was the sorrow of the orphan girl. She hadcontrolled her grief in the presence of her father and while he lingeredin life, only to give way now to its overwhelming force. Marah remainedwith her, Holding her in her arms, weeping with her, praying for her, doing all that the most tender mother could do to soothe, console andstrengthen the bleeding young heart. 

The funeral of Doctor Day took place the third day from his decease, andwas attended by all the gentry of the neighboring town and county intheir own carriages, and by crowds who came on foot to pay the lasttribute of respect to their beloved friend. 

He was interred in the family burial ground, situated on a wooded hillup behind the homestead, and at the head of his last resting place wasafterwards erected a plain obelisk of white marble, with his name andthe date of his birth and death and the following inscription:

 "He is not here, but is risen. "

"When dear Clara comes to weep at her father's grave, these words willsend her away comforted and with her faith renewed, " had been TraverseRocke's secret thought when giving directions for the inscription ofthis inspiring text. 

On the morning of the day succeeding the funeral, while Clara, exhaustedby 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, that by the doctor's desire, which should beconsidered sacred, Clara is still to live here, and you are to remain totake care of her. I shall defer my journey West until everything issettled to Clara's satisfaction, and she has in some degree recoveredher equanimity. I must also have an interview and a good understandingwith her guardian, for whom I have a message. "

"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 man's name;it is an uncommon name that I never heard before in my life, and, in thepressure of grief upon my mind, its exact identity escaped my memory;but that does not signify much, as he is expected hourly; and when heannounces himself, either by card or word of mouth, I shall know, for Ishall recognize the name the moment I see it written or hear it spoken. Let me see, it was something like Des Moines, De Vaughn, De Saule, orsomething of that sort. At all events, I'm sure I shall know it againthe instant I see or hear it. And now, dear mother, I must ride up toStaunton to see some of the doctor's poor sick that he left in my chargefor as long as I stay here. I shall be back by three o'clock. I need notask you to take great care of that dear suffering girl up-stairs, " saidTraverse, taking his hat and gloves for a ride. 

"I shall go and stay with her as soon as she awakes, " answered Mrs. Rocke. 

And Traverse, satisfied, went his way. 

He had been gone perhaps an hour when the sound of a carriage was heardbelow in the front of the house, followed soon by a loud rapping at thehall door. 

"It is dear Clara's guardian, " said Marah Rocke, rising 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 personthat was in charge here, ma'am; so I fotch the card to you. "

"You did right, John. Show the gentleman up here, " said Marah; and assoon as the servant had gone she looked at the card, but failed to makeit out. The name was engraved in Old English text, and in such acomplete labyrinth, thicket and network of ornate flourishes that no onewho was not familiar at once with the name and the style could possiblyhave distinguished it. 

"I do not think my boy would know this name at sight, " was Marah'sthought as she twirled the card in her hand and stood waiting theentrance of the visitor, whose step was now heard coming up the stairs. Soon the door was thrown open and the stranger entered. 

Marah, habitually shy in the presence of strangers, dropped her eyesbefore she had fairly taken in the figure of a tall, handsome, dark-complexioned, distinguished-looking man, somewhat past middle age, and arrayed in a rich military cloak, and carrying in his hand amilitary cap. 

The servant who had admitted him had scarcely retired when Marah lookedup and her eyes and those of the stranger met--and--

"Marah Rocke!!!"

"Colonel Le Noir!!!"

Burst simultaneously from the lips of each. 

Le Noir first recovered himself, and, holding out both hands, advancedtoward her with a smile as if to greet an old friend. 

But Marah, shrinking from him in horror, turned and tottered to thefarthest window, where, leaning her head against the sash, she moaned:

"Oh, my heart: my heart! Is this the wolf to whom my lamb must becommitted?"

As she moaned these words she was aware of a soft step at her side and alow voice murmuring:

"Marah Rocke, yes! the same beautiful Marah that, as a girl offifteen--twenty years ago--turned my head, led me by her fatal charmsinto the very jaws of death--the same lovely Marah with her beauty onlyripened by time and exalted by sorrow!"

With one surprised, indignant look, but without a word of reply, Mrs. Rocke turned and walked composedly toward the door with the intention ofquitting 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 before we part, " hesaid, in those soft, sweet, persuasive tones he knew so well how toassume. 

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 avillain would not well become her; so calling up all the gentle dignitylatent in her nature, she resumed her seat and, signing to the visitorto follow her example, she said composedly:

"Speak on, Colonel Le Noir--remembering, if you please, to whom youspeak. "

"I 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 and sought youthroughout the world to find this reception at last?"

"Colonel Le Noir, if this is all you had to say, it was scarcely worthwhile to have detained me, " said Mrs. Rocke calmly. 

"But it is not all, my Marah! Yes, I call you mine by virtue of thestrongest attachment man ever felt for woman! Marah Rocke, you are theonly woman who ever inspired me with a feeling worthy to be called apassion----"

"Colonel Le Noir, how dare you blaspheme this house of mourning by suchsinful words? You forget where you stand and to whom you speak. "

"I forget nothing, Marah Rocke; nor do I violate this sanctuary ofsorrow"--here he sank his voice below his usual low tones--"when I speakof the passion that maddened my youth and withered my manhood--a passionwhose intensity was its excuse for all extravagances and whose enduringconstancy is its final, full justification!"

Before he had finished this sentence Marah Rocke had calmly arisen andpulled the bell rope. 

"What mean you by that, Marah?" he inquired. 

Before she replied a servant, in answer to the bell, came to the doorand tried the latch, and, finding it locked, rapped. 

With a blush that mounted to his forehead and with a half-suppressedimprecation, Colonel Le Noir went and unlocked the door and admitted theman. 

"John, " said Mrs. Rocke, quietly, "show Colonel Le Noir to the apartmentprepared for him and wait his orders. " And with a slight nod to theguest she went calmly from the room. 

Colonel Le Noir, unmindful of the presence of the servant, stood gazingin angry mortification after her. The flush on his brow had given way tothe fearful pallor of rage or hate as he muttered inaudibly:

"Insolent beggar! contradiction always confirms my half-formedresolutions. Years ago I swore to possess that woman, and I will do it, if it be only to keep my oath and humble her insolence. She is veryhandsome 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 tobring up my portmanteau. "

John devoutly pulled his forelocks as he bowed low and then went on, followed by Colonel Le Noir. 

Marah Rocke meanwhile had gained the privacy of her own chamber, whereall her firmness deserted her. 

Throwing herself into a chair, she clasped her hands and sat withblanched face and staring eyes, like a marble statue of despair. 

"Oh, what shall I do? what shall I do while this miscreant remainshere?--this villain whose very presence desecrates the roof anddishonors me? I would instantly leave the house but that I must notabandon poor Clara. 

"I cannot claim the protection of Traverse, for I would not provoke himto wrath or run him into danger; nor, indeed, would I even permit my sonto dream such a thing possible as that his mother could receive insult!

"Nor can I warn Clara of the unprincipled character of her guardian, forif she knew him as he is she would surely treat him in such a way as toget his enmity--his dangerous, fatal enmity!--doubly fatal since herperson 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 weeping. 

"Your guardian has arrived, love, " she said, sitting down beside the bedand 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; itwill answer quite well if you meet your guardian at table, " said Marah, who had particular reasons for wishing that Clara should first seeColonel Le Noir with other company, to have an opportunity of observinghim well and possibly forming an estimate of his character (as a younggirl of her fine instincts might well do) before she should be exposedin a tête-a-tête to those deceptive blandishments he knew so well how tobring into play. 

"That is a respite. Oh, dear Mrs. Rocke, you don't know how I dread tosee any one!"

"My dear Clara, you must combat grief by prayer, which is the only thingthat 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 oversee the preparation of the dinner. 

And it was at the dinner-table that Marah, with the quiet and gentledignity for which she was distinguished, introduced the younger membersof 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 ofcondolence, sympathy and melancholy pleasure, from which Clara, with agentle bend of her head, withdrew to take her seat. 

"Colonel Le Noir, my son, Doctor Rocke, " said Marah, presentingTraverse. 

The colonel stared superciliously, bowed with ironical depth, said hewas "much honored, " and, turning his back on the young man, placedhimself at the table. 

During the dinner he exerted himself to be agreeable to Miss Day andMrs. Rocke, but Traverse he affected to treat with supercilious neglector ironical deference. 

Our young physician had too much self-respect to permit himself to be inany 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 thismanner, so that Clara should be enabled to form some correct idea of hisdisposition. 

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 toneas indifferent as she could make it. 

"I do not like him at all!" exclaimed Clara, her gentle blue eyesflashing with indignation through her tears; "I do not like him at all, the scornful, arrogant, supercilious--Oh! I do not wish to use suchstrong language, or to grow angry when I am in such deep grief; but mydear father could not have known this man, or he never would have chosenhim for my guardian; do you think he would, Mrs. Rocke?"

"My dear, your excellent father must have thought well of him, or henever would have intrusted him with so precious a charge. Whether yourfather's confidence in this man will be justified as far as you areconcerned, time will show. Meanwhile, my love, as the guardian appointedby your father, you should treat him with respect; but, so far asreposing any trust in him goes, consult your own instincts. "

"I shall; and I thank heaven that I have not got to go and live withColonel Le Noir!" said Clara, fervently. 

Mrs. Rocke sighed. She remembered that the arrangement that permittedClara to live at her own home with her chosen friends was but a verbalone, not binding upon the guardian and executor unless he chose toconsider it so. 

Their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a servant with amessage from Colonel Le Noir, expressing a hope that Miss Day feltbetter from her afternoon's repose, and desiring the favor of hercompany in the library. 

Clara returned an answer pleading indisposition, and begging upon thataccount to be excused. 

At tea, however, the whole family met again. As before, Colonel Le Noirexerted himself to please the ladies and treated the young physicianwith marked neglect. This conduct offended Miss Day to such a degreethat she, being a girl of truth in every thought, word and deed, couldonly exhibit toward the guest the most freezing politeness that wasconsistent with her position as hostess, and she longed for the time tocome that should deliver their peaceful home and loving little circlefrom the unwelcome presence of this arrogant intruder. 

"How can he imagine that I can be pleased with his deference andcourtesy and elaborate compliments, when he permits himself to be sorude to Traverse? I hope Traverse will tell him of our engagement, whichwill, perhaps, suggest to him the propriety of reforming his mannerswhile he remains under a roof of which Traverse is destined to bemaster, " said Clara to herself, as she arose from the table and, with acold bow, turned to retire from the room. 

"And will not my fair ward give me a few hours of her company thisevening?" inquired Colonel Le Noir in an insinuating voice, as he tookand pressed the hand of the doctor's orphan daughter. 

"Excuse me, sir; but, except at meal times, I have not left my roomsince"--here her voice broke down; she could not speak to him of herbereavement, or give way in his presence to her holy sorrow. "Besides, sir, " she added, "Doctor Rocke, I know, has expressed to you his desirefor an early interview. "

"My fair young friend, Doctor Rocke, as you style the young man, willplease to be so condescending as to tarry the leisure of his most humbleservant, " replied the colonel, with an ironical bow in the direction ofTraverse. 

"Perhaps, sir, when you know that Doctor Rocke is charged with the lastuttered will of my dear father, and that it is of more importance thanyou are prepared to anticipate, you may be willing to favor us all bygranting this 'young man' an early audience, " said Clara. 

"The last uttered will! I had supposed that the will of my latebrother-in-law was regularly drawn up and executed and in the hands ofhis confidential attorney at Staunton. "

"Yes, sir; so it is; but I refer to my father's last dying wishes, hisverbal directions entrusted to his confidential friend Doctor Rocke, "said Clara. 

"Last verbal directions, entrusted to Doctor Rocke. Humph! Humph! thiswould require corroborative evidence, " said the colonel. 

"Such corroborative evidence can be had, sir, " said Clara, coldly "andas I know that Doctor Rocke has already requested an interview for thesake of an explanation of these subjects, I must also join my ownrequest to his, and assure you that by giving him an early opportunityof coming to an understanding with you, you will greatly oblige me. "

"Then, undoubtedly, my sweet young friend, your wishes shall becommands--Eh! you--sir! Doctor--What's-your-name! meet me in the libraryat ten o'clock to-morrow morning, " said Le Noir, insolently. 

"I have engagements, sir, that will occupy me between the hours of tenand three; before or after that period I am at your disposal, " saidTraverse, coldly. 

"Pardieu! It seems to me that I am placed at yours!" replied thecolonel, lifting his eyebrows; "but as I am so placed by the orders ofmy fair little tyrant here, so be it--at nine to-morrow I am your mostobedient servant. "

"At nine, then, sir, I shall attend you, " said Traverse, with a coldbow. 

Clara slightly curtsied and withdrew from the room, attended by Mrs. Rocke. 

Traverse, as the only representative of the host, remained for a shorttime with his uncourteous guest, who, totally regardless of hispresence, threw himself into an armchair, lighted a cigar, took up abook and smoked and read. 

Whereupon Traverse, seeing this, withdrew to the library to employhimself with finishing the arranging and tying up of certain papers leftto his charge by Doctor Day.