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At his command she gave him all the information he required, not even withholding the fact of Capitola's strange story of having seen the apparition of the pale-faced lady in her chamber, together with the subsequent discovery of the loss of her ring. Colonel Le Noir sternly reprimanded his domestic manager for her neglect of his orders and dismissed her from his presence.
And this was the course of his thought: "Ira Warfield and Marah Rocke are here in the same town brought hither upon the same errand to-morrow to meet in the same court-room! And yet not either of them suspects the presence of the other! Mrs. Rocke does not know that in Capitola's uncle she will behold Major Warfield! He does not foresee that in Clara's matronly friend he will behold Marah Rocke!
That he has not at present legal proof enough to establish her identity and her rights before a court of justice I infer from the fact of his continuing inactive in the matter. But who can foresee how soon he may obtain all the proof that is necessary to establish Capitola's claims and wrest the whole of this property from me?
And then, with a deep bow, he left her, mounted his horse and rode on his way. He did not believe that Capitola was more than half in earnest, or that any girl in Capitola's circumstances would do such a mad thing as to refuse the position he offered her.
But after supper, when Capitola's wonder was at its climax, and while she was sitting by the little wood fire that that chilly evening required, Old Hurricane came in, looking very unlike himself, in an humble, confused, deprecating, yet happy manner, like one who had at once a mortifying confession to make, a happy secret to tell.
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.
"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.
"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.
He was the victim of constitutional ennui that yielded to nothing but the exhilaration of Capitola's company; that was the mystery of his love for her, and doubtless the young Creole would have proposed for Cap, had he not thought it too much trouble to get married, and dreaded the bustle of a bridal.
That night, if any watchman had been on guard near the stables of Hurricane Hall, he might have seen a tall man mounted upon Capitola's pony, ride up in hot haste, dismount and pick the stable lock, take Gyp by the bridle and lead him in, and presently return leading out Fleetfoot, Old Hurricane's racer, upon which he mounted and rode away.
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