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Updated: June 28, 2025
I hope and trust, with all my heart and soul!" cried Old Hurricane, with emphasis, as he approached and looked down the opening. "Uncle, what is below there?" asked Capitola anxiously, pointing down the abyss. "An old cellar, as I have told you long ago, and Black Donald, as you have just told me. Hilloe there!
I am tired of all this nonsense! I mean to carry you off and there's an end of it!" said the outlaw, doggedly, rising from his seat. "Stop!" said Capitola, turning ashen pale. "Stop sit down and hear me for just five minutes I will not tax your patience longer."
The knocking continued more loudly and impatiently, accompanied by the voice of Mrs. Condiment, crying: "Miss Capitola Miss Capitola why, what can be the matter with her? Miss Capitola!" "Eh? What? Yes!" answered Capitola, pressing her hands to her feverish forehead, and putting back her dishevelled hair. "Why, how soundly you sleep, my dear!
"It will hang heavier if you take a long fit of illness by standing in wet clothes," muttered the woman. "Why, so 'twill, missus! So here goes," assented the man, hurrying across the hall and passing out through the door opposite that by which he entered. Dorcas returned to her guest. Eying her closely for a while, she at length inquired: "Capitola, how long have you lived at Hurricane Hall?"
Come, now, my child; come to the heart of your old uncle." Now, the soul of Capitola naturally abhorred sentiment. If ever she gave way to serious emotion, she was sure to avenge herself by being more capricious than before.
"Oh, I know now!" exclaimed Capitola, with sudden delight; "you just spread your saddle-cloth down there, and that will make a beautiful seat, and I'll sit and talk with you so nicely only you must not want me to stay long, because if I don't get home soon I shall catch a scolding."
He maintained a self-possessed good-humored and laughingly defiant manner, and when asked to give up his accomplices, he answered gaily: That treachery was a legal virtue which outlaws could not be expected to know anything about. Capitola was everywhere lauded for her brave part in the capture of the famous desperado. But Cap was too sincerely sorry for Black Donald to care for the applause.
Another time, when old Major Warfield was out with his dogs, the chase led him past the haunted house, and as he swept by he caught a glimpse of a pale, wan, sorrowful female face pressed against the window pane of an upper room, which vanished in an instant. "But might not that have been some young woman staying at the house?" asked Capitola.
I do spy a kind of hope, Which craves as desperate an execution As that is desperate, which we would prevent And if thou darest, I'll give thee remedy! Hold, then! go home, be merry, give consent To marry Paris! Wednesday is to-morrow! Shakespeare. As the autumn weather was now very pleasant, Capitola continued her rides, and, without standing on ceremony, repeated her visit to the Hidden House.
Why, look out of that window the very birds and beasts know it, and instinctively seek shelter look at that flock of crows flying home! See how the dumb beasts come trooping toward their sheds! Capitola, you had better give up going altogether, my dear!" "There! I thought all this talk tended to keeping me within doors, but I can't stay, Mrs. Condiment! Good Mrs. Condiment, I can't!"
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