She did not
even observe that the sky was entirely overcast, and the thunder was
muttering in the distance. She was aroused from her profound reverie
by a voice near her asking:
"Who are you, that dares to come without a guide to the Devil's
Punch Bowl?"
Capitola looked around and came nearer screaming than she ever had
been in her life, upon seeing the apparition that stood before her.
Was it man, woman, beast or demon? She could not tell! It was a very
tall, spare form, with a black cloth petticoat tied around the
waist, a blue coat buttoned over the breast, and a black felt hat
tied down with a red handkerchief, shading the darkest old face she
had ever seen in her life.
"Who are you, I say, who comes to the Devil's Punch Bowl without
leave or license?" repeated the frightful creature, shifting her
cane from one hand to the other.
"I? I am Capitola Black, from Hurricane Hall; but who, in the name
of all the fates and furies, are you?" inquired Capitola, who, in
getting over the shock, had recovered her courage.
"I am Harriet the Seeress of Hidden Hollow!" replied the apparition,
in a melodramatic manner that would not have discredited the queen
of tragedy herself. "You have heard of me?"
"Yes, but I always heard you called Old Hat, the Witch," said Cap.
"The world is profane--give me your hand!" said the beldame,
reaching out her own to take that of Capitola.
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