"Gyp, my boy, the storm is upon us sure enough! We shall catch it
all around, get well drowned, beaten and buffeted here and well
abused when we get home! Meantime, Gyp, which is the worst, the full
fury of the tempest or the mysterious terrors of the Haunted House!"
Another blinding flash of lightning, a stunning crash of thunder, a
flood of rain and tornado of wind decided her.
"We'll take the Haunted House, Gyp, my friend! That spectral lady of
the lighted window looked rather in sorrow than in anger, and who
knows but the ghosts may be hospitable? So gee up, Dobbin!" said
Capitola, and, urging her horse with one hand and holding on her cap
with the other, she went on against wind and rain until she reached
the front of the old house.
Not a creature was to be seen; every door and window was closely
shut. Dismounting, Capitola led her horse under the shelter of a
thickly leaved oak tree, secured him, and then holding up her
saturated skirt with one hand and holding on her cap with the other,
she went up some moldering stone steps to an old stone portico and,
seizing the heavy iron knocker of a great black oak double door, she
knocked loudly enough to awaken all the mountain echoes.
She waited a few minutes for an answer, but receiving none, she
knocked again, more loudly than before. Still there was no reply.
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