Here a grave and unexpected obstacle met her; she had
always been accustomed to kneel and offer up to heaven her evening's
tribute of praise and thanksgiving for the mercies of the day, and
prayers for protection and blessing through the night.
Now she knelt as usual, but thanksgiving and prayer seemed frozen on
her lips! How could she praise or pray with such a purpose as she
had in her heart?
For the first time Capitola doubted the perfect righteousness of
that purpose which was of a character to arrest her prayers upon her
lips.
With a start of impatience and a heavy sigh, she sprang up and
hurried into bed.
She did not sleep, but lay tossing from side to side in feverish
excitement the whole night--having, in fact, a terrible battle
between her own fierce passions and her newly awakened conscience.
Nevertheless, she arose by daybreak in the morning, dressed herself,
went and unlocked her drawer, took out the pistols, carefully loaded
them, and laid them down for service.
Then she went down-stairs, where the servants were only just
beginning to stir, and sent for her groom, Jem, whom she ordered to
saddle her pony, and also to get a horse for himself, to attend her
in a morning ride.
After which she returned up-stairs, put on her riding habit, and
buckled around her waist a morocco belt, into which she stuck the
two revolvers.
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