You have not a wet thread on you."
"Lor', miss, it rained till one o'clock, and then the wind riz and
blowed till six and blowed me dry," said Wool, as he sprang off his
horse and helped his young mistress to alight.
Then, instead of taking the beasts to the stable, he tied them to
the tree and hurried into the house and upstairs to his master's
room, to apprise him of the return of the lost sheep, Capitola.
Old Hurricane was lying awake, tossing, groaning and grumbling with
anxiety.
On seeing Wool enter he deliberately raised up and seized a heavy
iron candlestick and held it ready to hurl at the head of that
worthy, whom he thus addressed:
"Ah, you have come, you atrocious villain! You know the conditions.
If you have dared to show your face without bringing your young
mistress--"
"Please, marse, I wur out looking for her all night."
"Have you brought her?" thundered Old Hurricane, rising up.
"Please, marse, yes, sir; I done found her and brought her home
safe."
"Send her up to me," said Old Hurricane, sinking back with a sigh of
infinite relief.
Wool flew to do his bidding.
In five minutes Capitola entered her uncle's chamber.
Now, Old Hurricane had spent a night of almost intolerable anxiety
upon his favorite's account, bewailing her danger and praying for
her safety but no sooner did he see her enter his chamber safe and
sound and smiling than indignation quite mastered him, and jumping
out of his bed in his nightgown, he made a dash straight at
Capitola.
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