Washington, Dec. 14, 18—My Dear Craven—You are losing time. Do not hope to win the girl by the means you propose. She is too acute to be deceived, and too firm to be persuaded. We must not hesitate to use the only possible means by which we can coerce her into compliance. I shall follow this letter by the first stage coach, and before the beginning of the next month Clara Day shall be your wife. Your Affectionate Father,Gabriel Le Noir,C. Le Noir, Esq., Hidden House.
Washington, Dec. 14, 18—
My Dear Craven—You are losing time. Do not hope to win the girl by the means you propose. She is too acute to be deceived, and too firm to be persuaded. We must not hesitate to use the only possible means by which we can coerce her into compliance. I shall follow this letter by the first stage coach, and before the beginning of the next month Clara Day shall be your wife. Your Affectionate Father,
Gabriel Le Noir,
C. Le Noir, Esq., Hidden House.
When Craven Le Noir read this letter his thin, white face and deep-set eyes lighted up with triumph. But Craven Le Noir huzzaed before he was out of the woods. He had not calculated upon Capitola.
The next day Colonel Le Noir came to the Hidden House. He arrived late in the afternoon.
After refreshing himself with a bath, a change of clothing and a light luncheon, he went to the library, where he passed the remainder of the evening in a confidential conference with his son. Their supper was ordered to be served up to them there; and for that evening Clara had the comfort of taking her tea alone.
The result of this conference was that the next morning, after breakfast, Colonel Le Noir sent for Miss Day to come to him in the library.
When Clara, nerving her gentle heart to resist a sinful tyranny, entered the library, Colonel Le Noir arose and courteously handed her to a chair, and then, seating himself beside her, said:
"My dear Clara, the responsibilities of a guardian are always very onerous, and his duties not always very agreeable, especially when his ward is the sole heiress of a large property and the object of pursuit by fortune hunters and maneuverers, male and female. When such is the case, the duties and responsibilities of the guardian are augmented a hundredfold."
"Sir, this cannot be so in my case, since you are perfectly aware that my destiny is, humanly speaking, already decided," replied Clara, with gentle firmness.
"As—how, I pray you, my fair ward?"
"You cannot possibly be at a loss to understand, sir. You have been already advised that I am betrothed to Doctor Rocke, who will claim me as his wife upon the day that I shall complete my twenty-first year."
"Miss Clara Day! no more of that, I beseech you! It is folly, perversity, frenzy! But, thanks to the wisdom of legislators, the law very properly invests the guardian with great latitude of discretionary power of the person and property of his ward—to be used, of course, for that ward's best interest. And thus, my dear Clara, it is my duty, while holding this power over you, to exercise it for preventing the possibility of your ever—either now or at any future time, throwing yourself away upon a mere adventurer. To do this, I must provide you with a suitable husband. My son, Mr. Craven Le Noir, has long loved and wooed you. He is a young man of good reputation and fair prospects. I entirely approve his suit, and as your guardian I command you to receive him for your destined husband."
"Colonel Le Noir, this is no time 'for bated breath and whispered humbleness.' I am but a simple girl of seventeen, but I understand your purpose and that of your son just as well as though I were an old man of the world. You are the fortune hunters and maneuverers! It is the fortune of the wealthy heiress and friendless orphan that you are in pursuit of! But that fortune, like my hand and heart, is already promised to one I love; and, to speak very plainly to you, I would die ere I would disappoint him or wed your son," said Clara, with invincible firmness.
"Die, girl! There are worse things than death in the world!" said Colonel Le Noir, with a threatening glare.
"I know it! and one of the worst things in the world would be a union with a man I could neither esteem nor even endure!" exclaimed Clara.
Colonel Le Noir saw that there was no use in further disguise. Throwing off, then, the last restraints of good breeding, he said:
"And there are still more terrible evils for a woman than to be the wife of one she 'can neither esteem nor endure!'"
Clara shook her head in proud scorn.
"There are evils to escape which such a woman would go down upon her bended knees to be made the wife of such a man."
Clara's gentle eyes flashed with indignation.
"Infamous!" she cried. "You slander all womanhood in my person!"
"The evils to which I allude are—comprised in—a life of dishonor!" hissed Le Noir through his set teeth.
"This to my father's daughter!" exclaimed Clara, growing white as death at the insult.
"Aye, my girl! It is time we understood each other. You are in my power, and I intend to coerce you to my will!"
These words, accompanied as they were by a look that left no doubt upon her mind that he would carry out his purpose to any extremity, so appalled the maiden's soul that she stood like one suddenly struck with catalepsy.
The unscrupulous wretch then approached her and said:
"I am now going to the county seat to take out a marriage license for you and my son. I shall have the carriage at the door by six o'clock this evening, when I desire that you shall be ready to accompany us to church, where a clerical friend will be in attendance to perform the marriage ceremony. Clara Day, if you would save your honor, look to this!"
All this time Clara had neither moved nor spoken nor breathed. She had stood cold, white and still as if turned to stone.
"Let no vain hope of escape delude your mind. The doors will be kept locked; the servants are all warned not to suffer you to leave the house. Look to it, Clara, for the rising of another sun shall see my purpose accomplished!"
And with these words the atrocious wretch left the room. His departure took off the dreadful spell that had paralyzed Clara's life; her blood began to circulate again; breath came to her lungs and speech to her lips.
"Oh, Lord," she cried, "oh, Lord, who delivered the children from the fiery furnace, deliver thy poor handmaiden now from her terrible foes!"
While she thus prayed she saw upon the writing table before her a small penknife. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes brightened as she seized it.
"This! this!" she said, "this small instrument is sufficient to save me! Should the worst ensue, I know where to find the carotid artery, and even such a slight puncture as my timorous hand could make would set my spirit free! Oh, my father! oh, my father! you little thought when you taught your Clara the mysteries of anatomy to what a fearful use she would put your lessons! And would it be right? Oh, would it be right? One may desire death, but can anything justify suicide? Oh, Father in heaven, guide me! guide me!" cried Clara, falling upon her knees and sobbing forth this prayer of agony.
Soon approaching footsteps drew her attention. And she had only time to rise and put back her damp, disheveled hair from her tear-stained face before the door opened and Dorcas Knight appeared and said:
"Here is this young woman come again."
"I declare, Miss Day," said Cap, laughing, "you have the most accomplished, polite and agreeable servants here that I ever met with! Think with what a courteous welcome this woman received me—'Here you are again!' she said. 'You'll come once too often for your own good, and that I tell you.' I answered that every time I came it appeared to be once too often for her liking. She rejoined, 'The colonel has come home, and he don't like company, so I advise you to make your call a short one.' I assured her that I should measure the length of my visit by the breadth of my will—— But good angels, Clara! what is the matter? You look worse than death!" exclaimed Capitola, noticing for the first time the pale, wild, despairing face of her companion.
Clara clasped her hands as if in prayer and raised her eyes with an appealing gaze into Capitola's face.
"Tell me, dear Clara, what is the matter? How can I help you? What shall I do for you?" said our heroine.
Before trusting herself to reply, Clara gazed wistfully into Capitola's eyes, as though she would have read her soul.
Cap did not blanch nor for an instant avert her own honest, gray orbs; she let Clara gaze straight down through those clear windows of the soul into the very soul itself, where she found only truth, honesty and courage.
The scrutiny seemed to be satisfactory for Clara soon took the hand of her visitor and said:
"Capitola, I will tell you. It is a horrid, horrid story, but you shall know all. Come with me to my chamber."
Cap pressed the hand that was so confidingly placed in hers and accompanied Clara to her room, where, after the latter had taken the precaution to lock the door, the two girls sat down for a confidential talk.
Clara, like the author of Robin Hood's Barn, "began at the beginning" of her story, and told everything—her betrothal to Traverse Rocke; the sudden death of her father; the decision of the Orphans' Court; the departure of Traverse for the far West; her arrival at the Hidden House; the interruption of all her epistolary correspondence with her betrothed and his mother; the awful and mysterious occurrences of that dreadful night when she suspected some heinous crime had been committed; and finally of the long, unwelcome suit of Craven Le Noir and the present attempt to force him upon her as a husband.
Cap listened very calmly to this story, showing very little sympathy, for there was not a bit of sentimentality about our Cap.
"And now," whispered Clara, while the pallor of horror overspread her face, "by threatening me with a fate worse than death, they would drive me to marry Craven Le Noir!"
"Yes, I know I would!" said Cap, as if speaking to herself, but by her tone and manner clothing these simple words in the very keenest sarcasm.
"What would you do, Capitola?" asked Clara, raising her tearful eyes to the last speaker.
"Marry Mr. Craven Le Noir and thank him, too!" said Cap. Then, suddenly changing her tone, she exclaimed:
"I wish—oh! how I wish it was only me in your place—that it was only me they were trying to marry against my will!"
"What would you do?" asked Clara, earnestly.
"What would I do? Oh! wouldn't I make them know the difference between their Sovereign Lady and Sam the Lackey? If I had been in your place and that dastard Le Noir had said to me what he said to you, I do believe I should have stricken him dead with the lightning of my eyes! But what shall you do, my poor Clara?"
"Alas! alas! see here! this is my last resort!" replied the unhappy girl, showing the little pen-knife.
"Put it away from you! put it away from you!" exclaimed Capitola earnestly, "suicide is never, never, never justifiable! God is the Lord of life and death! He is the only judge whether a mortal's sorrows are to be relieved by death, and when He does not Himself release you, He means that you shall live and endure! That proves that suicide is never right, let the Roman pagans have said and done what they pleased. So no more of that! There are enough other ways of escape for you!"
"Ah! what are they? You would give me life by teaching me how to escape!" said Clara, fervently.
"The first and most obvious means that suggests itself to my mind," said Cap, "is to—run away!"
"Ah! that is impossible. The servants are warned; the doors are all locked; I am watched!"
"Then the next plan is equally obvious. Consent to go with them to the church, and when you get there, denounce them and claim the protection of the clergyman!"
"Ah! dear girl, that is still more impracticable. The officiating clergyman is their friend, and even if I could consent to act a deceitful part, and should go to church as if to marry Craven and upon getting there denounce him, instead of receiving the protection of the clergyman I should be restored to the hands of my legal guardian and be brought back here to meet a fate worse than death," said Clara, in a tone of despair.
Capitola did not at once reply, but fell into deep thought, which lasted many minutes. Then, speaking more gravely than she had spoken before, she said:
"There is but one plan of escape left, your only remaining chance, and that full of danger!"
"Oh, why should I fear danger? What evil can befall me so great as that which now threatens me?" said Clara.
"This plan requires on your part great courage, self-control and presence of mind."
"Teach me! teach me, dear Capitola. I will be an apt pupil!"
"I have thought it all out, and will tell you my plan. It is now eleven o'clock in the forenoon, and the carriage is to come for you at six this evening, I believe?"
"Yes! yes!"
"Then you have seven hours in which to save yourself! And this is my plan: First, Clara, you must change clothes with me, giving me your suit of mourning and putting on my riding habit, hat and veil! Then, leaving me here in your place, you are to pull the veil down closely over your face and walk right out of the house! No one will speak to you, for they never do to me. When you have reached the park, spring upon my horse and put whip to him for the village of Tip Top. My servant, Wool, will ride after you, but not speak to you or approach near enough to discover your identity—for he has been ordered by his master to keep me in sight, and he has been forbidden by his mistress to intrude upon her privacy. You will reach Tip Top by three o'clock, when the Staunton stage passes through. You may then reveal yourself to Wool, give my horse into his charge, get into the coach and start for Staunton. Upon reaching that place, put yourself under the protection of your friends, the two old physicians, and get them to prosecute your guardian for cruelty and flagrant abuse of authority. Be cool, firm and alert, and all will be well!"
Clara, who had listened to this little Napoleon in petticoats with breathless interest, now clasped her hands in a wild ecstasy of joy and exclaimed:
"I will try it! Oh, Capitola, I will try it! Heaven bless you for the counsel!"
"Be quick, then; change your dress! provide yourself with a purse of money, and I will give you particular directions how to make a short cut for Tip Top. Ha, ha, ha! when they come for the bride she will be already rolling on the turnpike between Tip Top and Staunton!"
"But you! Oh, you, my generous deliverer?"
"I shall dress myself in your clothes and stay here in your place to keep you from being missed, so as to give you full time to make your escape."
"But—you will place yourself in the enraged lion's jaws! You will remain in the power of two men who know neither justice nor mercy! Who, in their love or their hate, fear neither God nor man! Oh, Capitola! how can I take an advantage of your generosity, and leave you here in such extreme peril? Capitola, I cannot do it!"
"Well, then, I believe, you must be anxious to marry Craven Le Noir!"
"Oh, Capitola!"
"Well, if you are not, hurry and get ready; there is no time to be lost!"
"But you! but you, my generous friend!"
"Never mind me. I shall be safe enough! I am not afraid of the Le Noirs. Bless their wigs; I should like to see them make me blanch. On the contrary, I desire above all things to be pitted against these two! How I shall enjoy their disappointment and rage! Oh, it will be a rare frolic!"
While Capitola was speaking she was also busily engaged doing. She went softly to the door and turned the key in the lock, to prevent any one from looking through the keyhole, murmuring as she did it:
"I wasn't brought up among the detective policemen for nothing!"
Then she began to take off her riding-habit. Quickly she dressed Clara, superintending all the details of her disguise as carefully as though she were the costumer of a new debutante. When Clara was dressed she was so nearly of the same size and shape of Capitola that from behind no one would have suspected her identity.
"There, Clara! tuck your light hair out of the way; pull your cap over your eyes; gather your veil down close; draw up your figure; throw back your head; walk with a little springy sway and swagger, as if you didn't care a damson for anybody, and—there! I declare no one could tell you from me!" exclaimed Capitola in delight, as she completed the disguise and the instructions of Clara.
Then Capitola dressed herself in Clara's deep mourning robes. And then the two girls sat down to compose themselves for a few minutes, while Capitola gave new and particular directions for Clara's course and conduct, so as to insure as far as human foresight could do it, the safe termination of her perilous adventure. By the time they had ended their talk the hall clock struck twelve.
"There! it is full time you should be off! Be calm, be cool, be firm, and God bless you, Clara! Dear girl! if I were only a young man I would deliver you by the strength of my own arms, without subjecting you to inconvenience or danger!" said Cap, gallantly, as she led Clara to the chamber door and carefully gathered her thick veil in close folds over her face, so as entirely to conceal it.
"Oh, may the Lord in heaven bless and preserve and reward you, my brave, my noble, my heroic Capitola!" said Clara, fervently, with the tears rushing to her eyes.
"Bosh!" said Cap. "If you go doing the sentimental you won't look like me a bit, and that will spoil all. There! keep your veil close, for it's windy, you know; throw back your head and fling yourself along with a swagger, as if you didn't care, ahem! for anybody, and—there you are!" said Cap, pushing Clara out and shutting the door behind her.
Clara paused an instant to offer up one short, fervent prayer for her success and Capitola's safety, and then following her instructions, went on.
Nearly all girls are clever imitators, and Clara readily adopted Capitola's light, springy, swaying walk, and met old Dorcas Knight in the hall, without exciting the slightest suspicion of her identity.
"Humph!" said the woman; "so you are going! I advise you not to come back again!"
Clara threw up her head with a swagger, and went on.
"Very well, you may scorn my words, but if you know your own good you'll follow my advice!" said Dorcas Knight, harshly.
Clara flung up her head and passed out.
Before the door Wool was waiting with the horses. Keeping her face closely muffled, Clara went to Capitola's pony. Wool came and helped her into the saddle, saying:
"Yer does right, Miss Cap, to keep your face kivered; it's awful windy, ain't it, though? I kin scarcely keep the har from blowing offen my head."
With an impatient jerk after the manner of Capitola, Clara signified that she did not wish to converse. Wool dropped obediently behind, mounted his horse and followed at a respectful distance until Clara turned her horse's head and took the bridle-path toward Tip Top. This move filled poor Wool with dismay. Riding toward her, he exclaimed:
"'Deed, Miss Cap, yer mus' scuse me for speakin' now! Whar de muschief is yer a-goin' to?"
For all answer Clara, feigning the temper of Capitola, suddenly wheeled her horse, elevated her riding whip and galloped upon Wool in a threatening manner.
Wool dodged and backed his horse with all possible expedition, exclaiming in consternation:
"Dar! dar! Miss Cap, I won't go for to ax you any more questions—no—not if yer rides straight to Old Nick or Black Donald!"
Whereupon, receiving this apology in good part, Clara again turned her horse's head and rode on her way.
Wool followed, bemoaning the destiny that kept him between the two fierce fires of his old master's despotism and his young mistress's caprice, and muttering:
"I know old marse and dis young gal am goin' to be the death of me! I knows it jes' as well as nuffin at all! I 'clare to man, if it ain't nuf to make anybody go heave themselves right into a grist mill and be ground up at once."
Wool spoke no more until they got to Tip Top, when Clara still closely veiled, rode up to the stage office just as the coach, half filled with passengers, was about to start. Springing from her horse, she went up to Wool and said:
"Here, man, take this horse back to Hurricane Hall! Tell Major Warfield that Miss Black remains at the Hidden House in imminent danger! Ask him to ride there and bring her home! Tell Miss Black when you see her that I reached Tip Top safe and in time to take the coach. Tell her I will never cease to be grateful! And now, here is a half eagle for your trouble! Good-by, and God bless you!" And she put the piece in his hand and took her place in the coach, which immediately started.
As for Wool! From the time that Clara had thrown aside her veil and began to speak to him he had stood staring and staring—his consternation growing and growing—until it had seemed to have turned him into stone—from which state of petrefaction he did not recover until he saw the stage coach roll rapidly away, carrying off—whom?—Capitola, Clara or the evil one?—Wool could not have told which! He presently astounded the people about the stage office by leaving his horses and taking to his heels after the stage coach, vociferating:
"Murder! murder! help! help! stop thief! stop thief! stop the coach! stop the coach!"
"What is the matter, man?" said a constable, trying to head him.
But Wool incontinently ran over that officer, throwing him down and keeping on his headlong course, hat off, coat-tail streaming and legs and arms flying like the sails of a windmill, as he tried to overtake the coach, crying:
"Help! murder! head the horses! Stop the coach! Old marse told me not to lose sight of her! Oh, for hebben's sake, good people, stop the coach!"
When he got to a gate, instead of taking time to open it, he rolled himself somersault-like right over it! When he met man or woman, instead of turning from his straight course, he knocked them over and passed on, garments flying and legs and arms circulating with the velocity of a wheel.
The people whom he had successively met and overthrown in his course, picking themselves up and getting into the village, reported that there was a furious madman broke loose, who attacked every one he met.
And soon every man and boy in the village who could mount a horse started in pursuit. Only race horses would have beaten the speed with which Wool ran, urged on by fear. It was nine miles on the turnpike road from Tip Top that the horsemen overtook and surrounded Wool, who, seeing himself hopelessly environed, fell down upon the ground and rolled and kicked, swearing that he would not be taken alive to have his eyelids cut off!
It was not until after a desperate resistance that he was finally taken, bound, put in a wagon and carried back to the village, where he was recognized as Major Warfield's man and a messenger was despatched for his master.
And not until he had been repeatedly assured that no harm should befall him did Wool gain composure enough to say, amid tears of cruel grief and fear:
"Oh, marsers! my young missus, Miss Black, done been captured and bewitched and turned into somebody else, right afore my own two looking eyes and gone off in dat coach! 'deed she is! and ole marse kill me! 'deed he will, gemmen! He went and ordered me not to take my eyes offen her, and no more I didn't! But what good that do, when she turned to somebody else, and went off right afore my two looking eyes? But ole marse won't listen to reason. He kill me, I know he will!" whimpered Wool, refusing to be comforted.
CHAPTER X.
CAP IN CAPTIVITY.
I lingered here and rescue plannedFor Clara and for me.—Scott.
I lingered here and rescue plannedFor Clara and for me.
I lingered here and rescue planned
For Clara and for me.
—Scott.
—Scott.
Meanwhile how fared it with Capitola in the Hidden House?
"I am in for it now!" said Cap, as she closed the door behind Clara; "I am in for it now! This is a jolly imprudent adventure! What will Wool do when he discovers that he has 'lost sight' of me? What will uncle say when he finds out what I've done? Whe—ew! Uncle will explode! I wonder if the walls at Hurricane Hall will be strong enough to stand it! Wool will go mad! I doubt if he will ever do a bit more good in this world!
"But above all, I wonder what the Le Noirs, father and son, will say when they find that the heiress is flown and a 'beggar,' as uncle flatters me by calling me, will be here in her place! Whe—ew—ew—ew! There will be a tornado! Cap, child, they'll murder you! That's just what they'll do! They'll kill and eat you, Cap, without any salt! or they may lock you up in the haunted room to live with the ghost, Cap, and that would be worse!
"Hush! here comes Dorcas Knight! Now I must make believe I'm Clara, and do the sentimental up brown!" concluded Capitola, as she seated herself near the door where she could be heard, and began to sob softly.
Dorcas rapped.
Cap sobbed in response.
"Are you coming to luncheon, Miss Day?" inquired the woman.
"Ee—hee! Ee—hee! Ee—hee! I do not want to eat," sobbed Cap, in a low and smothered voice. Any one would have thought she was drowned in tears.
"Very well; just as you like," said the woman harshly, as she went away.
"Well, I declare," laughed Cap, "I did that quite as well as an actress could! But now what am I to do? How long can I keep this up? Heigh-ho 'let the world slide!' I'll not reveal myself until I'm driven to it, for when I do——! Cap, child, you'll get chawed right up!"
A little later in the day Dorcas Knight came again and rapped at the door.
"Ee—hee! Eeh—hee! Ee—hee!" sobbed Cap.
"Miss Day, your cousin, Craven Le Noir, wishes to speak with you alone."
"Ee—hee! Ee—hee! Ee—hee! I cannot see him!" sobbed Cap, in a low and suffocating voice.
The woman went away, and Cap suffered no other interruption until six o'clock, when Dorcas Knight once more rapped saying:
"Miss Day, your uncle is at the front door with the carriage, and he wishes to know if you are ready to obey him.
"Ee—hee! Ee—hee! Ee—hee!—te—te—tell him yes!" sobbed Cap, as if her heart would break.
The woman went off with this answer, and Capitola hastily enveloped her form in Clara's large, black shawl, put on Clara's black bonnet and tied her thick mourning veil closely over her face.
"A pretty bridal dress, this; but, however, I suppose these men are no more particular about my costume than they are about their own conduct," said Cap.
She had just drawn on her gloves when she heard the footsteps of two men approaching. They rapped at the door.
"Come in," she sobbed, in a low, broken voice, that might have belonged to any girl in deep distress, and she put a white cambric handkerchief up to her eyes and drew her thick veil closely over her face.
The two Le Noirs immediately entered the room. Craven approached her and whispered, softly:
"You will forgive me this, my share in these proceedings after awhile, sweet Clara! The Sabine women did not love the Roman youths the less that they were forcibly made wives by them."
"Ee—hee! Ee—hee! Ee—hee!" sobbed Cap, entirely concealing her white cambric handkerchief under her impenetrable veil.
"Come, come! we lose time!" said the elder Le Noir. "Draw her arm within yours, Craven, and lead her out."
The young man did as he was directed and led Cap from the room. It was now quite dark—the long, dreary passage was only dimly lighted by a hanging lamp, so that with the care she took there was scarcely a possibility of Capitola's being discovered. They went on, Craven Le Noir whispering hypocritical apologies and Cap replying only by low sobs.
When they reached the outer door they found a close carriage drawn up before the house.
To this Craven Le Noir led Capitola, placed her within and took the seat by her side. Colonel Le Noir followed and placed himself in the front seat opposite them. And the carriage was driven rapidly off.
An hour's ride brought the party to an obscure church in the depths of the forest, which Capitola recognized by the cross on its top to be a Roman Catholic chapel.
Here the carriage drew up and the two Le Noirs got out and assisted Capitola to alight.
They then led her into the church, which was dimly illumined by a pair of wax candles burning before the altar. A priest in his sacerdotal robes was in attendance. A few country people were scattered thinly about among the pews, at their private devotions.
Guarded by Craven Le Noir on the right and Colonel Le Noir on the left, Capitola was marched up the aisle and placed before the altar.
Colonel Le Noir then went and spoke apart to the officiating priest, saying, in a tone of dissatisfaction:
"I told you, sir, that as our bride was an orphan, recently bereaved, and still in deep mourning, we wished the marriage ceremony to be strictly private, and you gave me to understand, sir, that at this hour the chapel was most likely to be vacant. Yet, here I find a half a score of people! How is this?"
"Sir," replied the priest, "it is true that at this hour of the evening the chapel is most likely to be vacant, but it is not therefore certain to be so! nor did I promise as much! Our chapel is, as you know, open at all hours of the day and night, that all who please may come and pray. These people that you see are hard-working farm laborers, who have no time to come in the day, and who are now here to offer up their evening prayers, and also, some of them, to examine their consciences preparatory to confession! They can certainly be no interruption to this ceremony."
"Egad, I don't know that!" muttered Colonel Le Noir between his teeth.
As for Cap, the sight of other persons present in the chapel filled her heart with joy and exultation, inasmuch as it insured her final safety. And so she just abandoned herself to the spirit of frolic that possessed her, and anticipated with the keenest relish the dénouement of her strange adventure.
"Well, what are we waiting for? Proceed, sir, proceed!" said Colonel Le Noir as he took Cap by the shoulders and placed her on the left side of his son, while he himself stood behind ready to "give the bride away."
The ceremony immediately commenced.
The prologue beginning, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here," etc., etc., etc., was read.
The solemn exhortation to the contracting parties, commencing "I require and charge ye both, as ye shall answer in the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any just cause or impediment why ye may not lawfully be joined together," etc., etc., etc., followed.
Capitola listened to all this with the deepest attention, saying to herself: "Well, I declare, this getting married is really awfully interesting! If it were not for Herbert Greyson, I'd just let it go right straight on to the end and see what would happen next!"
While Cap was making these mental comments the priest was asking the bridegroom:
"Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife," etc., etc., etc., "so long as ye both shall live?"
To which Craven Le Noir, in a sonorous voice responded:
"I will."
"Indeed you will? We'll see that presently!" said Cap to herself.
The priest then turning toward the bride, inquired:
"Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, etc., etc., etc., so long as ye both shall live?"
To which the bride, throwing aside her veil, answered, firmly:
"No! not if he were the last man and I the last woman on the face of the earth and the human race was about to become extinct and the angel of Gabriel came down from above to ask it of me as a personal favor."
The effect of this outburst, this revelation, this explosion, may be imagined but can never be adequately described.
The priest dropped his book and stood with lifted hands and open mouth and staring eyes as though he had raised a ghost!
The two Le Noirs simultaneously sprang forward, astonishment, disappointment and rage contending in their blanched faces.
"Who are you, girl?" exclaimed Colonel Le Noir.
"Capitola Black, your honor's glory!" she replied, making a deep curtsey.
"What the foul fiend is the meaning of all this?" in the same breath inquired the father and son.
Cap put her thumb on the side of her nose, and, whirling her four fingers, replied:
"It means, your worships' excellencies, that—you—can't come it! it's no go! this chicken won't fight. It means that the fat's in the fire, and the cat's out of the bag! It means confusion! distraction! perdition! and a tearing off of our wigs! It means the game's up, the play's over, villainy is about to be hanged and virtue about to be married, and the curtain is going to drop and the principal performer—that's I—is going to be called out amid the applause of the audience!" Then, suddenly changing her mocking tone to one of great severity, she said:
"It means that you have been outwitted by a girl! It means that your purposed victim has fled, and is by this time in safety! It means that you two, precious father and son, would be a pair of knaves if you had sense enough; but, failing in that, you are only a pair of fools!"
By this time the attention of the few persons in the church was aroused. They all arose to their feet to look and listen, and some of them left their places and approached the altar. And to these latter Capitola now suddenly turned and said, aloud:
"Good people, I am Capitola Black, the niece and ward of Major Ira Warfield, of Hurricane Hall, whom you all know, and now I claim your protection while I shall tell you the meaning of my presence here!"
"Don't listen to her. She is a maniac!" cried Colonel Le Noir.
"Stop her mouth!" cried Craven, springing upon Capitola and holding her tightly in the grasp of his right arm, while he covered her lips and nostrils with his large left hand.
Capitola struggled so fiercely to free herself that Craven had enough to do to hold her, and so was not aware of a ringing footstep coming up the aisle, until a stunning blow dealt from a strong arm covered his face with blood and stretched him out at Capitola's feet.
Cap flushed, breathless and confused, looked up and was caught to the bosom of Herbert Greyson, who, pale with concentrated rage, held her closely and inquired:
"Capitola! What violence is this which has been done you? Explain! who is the aggressor?"
"Wai—wai—wait until I get my breath! There! that was good! That villain has all but strangled me to death? Oh, Herbert, I'm so delighted you've come! How is it that you always drop right down at the right time and on the right spot?" said Cap, while gasping for breath.
"I will tell you another time! Now I want an explanation."
"Yes, Herbert; I also wish to explain—not only to you but to these gaping, good people! Let me have a hearing!" said Cap.
"She is mad! absolutely mad!" cried Colonel Le Noir, who was assisting his son to rise.
"Silence, sir!" thundered Herbert Greyson, advancing toward him with uplifted and threatening hand.
"Gentlemen! gentlemen! pray remember that you are within the walls of a church!" said the distressed priest.
"Craven, this is no place for us; let us go and pursue our fugitive ward," whispered Colonel Le Noir to his son.
"We might as well; for it is clear that all is over here!" replied Craven. And the two baffled villains turned to leave the place. But Herbert Greyson, speaking up, said:
"Good people, prevent the escape of those men until we hear what this young lady has to say! that we may judge whether to let them go or to take them before a magistrate."
The people flew to the doors and windows and secured them, and then surrounded the two Le Noirs, who found themselves prisoners.
"Now, Capitola, tell us how it is that you are here!" said Herbert Greyson.
"Well, that elder man," said Cap, "is the guardian of a young heiress who was betrothed to a worthy young man, one Doctor Traverse Rocke."
"My friend!" interrupted Herbert.
"Yes, Mr. Greyson, your friend! Their engagement was approved by the young lady's father, who gave them his dying blessing. Nevertheless, in the face of all this, this 'guardian' here, appointed by the Orphans' Court to take charge of the heiress and her fortune, undertakes, for his own ends, to compel the young lady to break her engagement and marry his own son! To drive her to this measure, he does not hesitate to use every species of cruelty. This night he was to have forced her to this altar! But in the interval, to-day, I chanced to visit her at the house where she was confined. Being informed by her of her distressing situation, and having no time to help her in any better way, I just changed clothes with her. She escaped unsuspected in my dress. And those two heroes there, mistaking me for her, forced me into a carriage and dragged me hither to be married against my will. And instead of catching an heiress, they caught a Tartar, that's all! And now, Herbert, let the two poor wretches go hide their mortification, and do you take me home, for I am immensely tired of doing the sentimental, making speeches and piling up the agonies!"
While Cap was delivering this long oration, the two Le Noirs had made several essays to interrupt and contradict her, but were effectually prevented by the people, whose sympathies were all with the speaker. Now, at Herbert Greyson's command, they released the culprits, who, threatening loudly took their departure.
Herbert then led Capitola out and placed her upon her own pony, Gyp, which, to her unbounded astonishment, she found there in charge of Wool, who was also mounted upon his own hack.
Herbert Greyson threw himself into the saddle of a third horse, and the three took the road to Hurricane Hall.
"And now," said Capitola, as Herbert rode up to her side, "for mercy sake tell me, before I go crazy with conjecture, how it happened that you dropped down from the sky at the very moment and on the very spot where you were needed? and where did you light upon Wool and the horses?"
"It is very simple when you come to understand it," said Herbert, smiling. "In the first place, you know, I graduated at the last commencement."
"Yes."
"Well, I have just received a lieutenant's commission in a regiment that is ordered to join General Scott in Mexico."
"Oh, Herbert, that is news, and I don't know whether to be in despair or in ecstasy!" said Cap, ready to laugh or cry, as a feather's weight might tip the scales in which she balanced Herbert's new honors with his approaching perils.
"If there's any doubt about it, I decidedly recommend the latter emotion," said Herbert, laughing.
"When do you go?" inquired Cap.
"Our regiment embarks from Baltimore on the first of next month. Meanwhile I got leave of absence to come and spend a week with my friends at home!"
"Oh, Herbert, I—I am in a quandary! But you haven't told me yet how you happened to meet Wool and to come here just in the nick of time!"
"I am just going to do so. Well, you see Capitola, I came down in the stage to Tip Top, which I reached about three o'clock. And there I found Wool in the hands of the Philistines, suspected of being mad, from the manner in which he raved about losing sight of you. Well, of course, like a true knight, I delivered my lady's squire, comforted and reassured him and made him mount his own horse and take charge of yours. After which I mounted the best beast that I had hired to convey me to Hurricane Hall, and we all set off thither. I confess that I was excessively anxious upon your account, for I could make nothing whatever of Wool's wild story of your supposed metamorphosis! I thought it best to make a circuit and take the Hidden House in our course, to make some inquiries there as to what had really happened. I had got a little bewildered between the dark night and the strange road, and, seeing the light in the church, I had just ridden up to inquire my way, when to my astonishment I saw you within, before the altar, struggling in the grasp of that ruffian. And you know the rest! And now let us ride on quickly, for I have a strong presentiment that Major Warfield is suffering the tortures of a lost soul through anxiety upon your account," concluded Herbert Greyson.
"Please, Marse Herbert and Miss Cap, don't you tell ole marse nuffin 'tall 'bout my loosin' sight of you!" pleaded Wool.
"We shall tell your old master all about it, Wool, for I would not have him miss the pleasure of hearing this adventure upon any account; but I promise to bear you harmless through it," said Herbert, as they galloped rapidly toward home.
They reached Hurricane Hall by eight o'clock, and in good time for supper. They found Old Hurricane storming all over the house, and ordering everybody off the premises in his fury of anxiety upon Capitola's account. But when the party arrived, surprise at seeing them in the company of Herbert Greyson quite revolutionized his mood, and, forgetting to rage, he gave them all a hearty welcome.
And when after supper was over and they were all gathered around the comfortable fireside, and Herbert related the adventures and feats of Capitola at the Hidden House, and in the forest chapel, the old man grasped the hand of his favorite and with his stormy old eyes full of rain said:
"You deserve to have been a man, Cap! Indeed you do, my girl!"
That was his highest style of praise.
Then Herbert told his own little story of getting his commission and being ordered to Mexico.
"God bless you, lad, and save you in the battle and bring you home with victory!" was Old Hurricane's comment.
Then seeing that the young people were quite worn out with fatigue, and feeling not averse to his own comfortable couch, Old Hurricane broke up the circle and they all retired to rest.