Well, you see Capitola, I came down in
the stage to Tip Top, which I reached about three o'clock. And there
I found Wool in the hands of the Philistines, suspected of being
mad, from the manner in which he raved about losing sight of you.
Well, of course, like a true knight, I delivered my lady's squire,
comforted and reassured him and made him mount his own horse and
take charge of yours. After which I mounted the best beast that I
had hired to convey me to Hurricane Hall, and we all set off
thither. I confess that I was excessively anxious upon your account,
for I could make nothing whatever of Wool's wild story of your
supposed metamorphosis! I thought it best to make a circuit and take
the Hidden House in our course, to make some inquiries there as to
what had really happened. I had got a little bewildered between the
dark night and the strange road, and, seeing the light in the
church, I had just ridden up to inquire my way, when to my
astonishment I saw you within, before the altar, struggling in the
grasp of that ruffian. And you know the rest! And now let us ride on
quickly, for I have a strong presentiment that Major Warfield is
suffering the tortures of a lost soul through anxiety upon your
account," concluded Herbert Greyson.
"Please, Marse Herbert and Miss Cap, don't you tell ole marse nuffin
'tall 'bout my loosin' sight of you!" pleaded Wool.
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