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He not only won the heart of his master, but what proved of far greater importance to him he also won the heart of his master's pretty housemaid, Sarah Tindel by name, whom he married, and she went hand-in-hand with him through life, an admirable "help meet," in every way worthy of the noble character of the great mechanic.
The desperate party beneath the stairs at last broke open the back door there and rushed forth, only to receive handfuls of red pepper dust thrown by Miles Tindel, as he cried, "Tackle 'em, Cap'n Van!" They screamed with anguish, and rolled in the wet grass, and yet, with fears stronger than pain, sought the road in blindness, and some way to leave the town.
"I love him," muttered Sorden, admiringly, "as I never loved A male," and collected his party. "Whitecar, you and your brother hold the back door with your staves. If it is forced, Miles Tindel " "Tackle 'em, Cap'n Van!" "Will throw his red-pepper dust into the eyes of any that come out." "Oh, tackle 'em, Cap'n Van!" "Derrick Molleston!" "See me, O see me!" the powerful negro muttered.
He twisted, by main strength, a panel out of the palings near the house, and led the way to the great front door. A dozen desperate hands seized the heavy panel and ran with it. The door flew open, but at that moment every light in Cowgill House went out. "Dar's ghosts in dar," the hoarse voice of Derrick Molleston was heard to say, and the negro element stopped and shrank. "Tindel, your torch!"
Thus, even to ignorance, love brings understanding, and Levin began to ask himself the cause of his own misery. He knew it was liquor, yet what made him drink if not a disposition too easily led? Even now he was under almost voluntary subjection to the bandit in the wagon, whose voice he heard blandly command again to some pair he had caught up to: "Tindel?" "Tackle 'em, Cap'n Van! Tackle 'em!"
After descending the steps of the station, he asked to be directed, and for a long time his way lay through a street, made by red brick houses with stucco porches; but at length these commenced to divide into cottages, and after many inquiries, he was shown into what he was told was an old Roman road, called 'Going over Tindel. The wind blew bitterly, and against a murky sky the fretted trees on the higher ridges were like veils of grey lace.
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