There a vision met his eyes that arrested his steps upon the very
threshold; the remains of a bacchanalian supper; a man's coat and
hat and boots upon the floor; in the midst of the room the great,
square, black opening; and beyond it standing upon the hearth, the
form of Capitola, with disordered dress, dishevelled hair and wild
aspect!
"Oh, uncle, see what I have been obliged to do!" she exclaimed,
extending both her arms down toward the opening with a look of
blended horror and inspiration, such as might have sat upon the
countenance of some sacrificial priestess of the olden time.
"What--what--what!" cried the old man, nearly dumb with amazement.
"Black Donald was in my room last night. He stole from his
concealment and locked the door on the inside and withdrew the key,
thus locking me in with himself, and--" She ceased and struck both
hands to her face, shuddering from head to foot.
"Go on, girl!" thundered Old Hurricane, in an agony of anxiety.
"I escaped harmless--oh, I did, sir--but at what a fearful price!"
"Explain! Explain!" cried Old Hurricane, in breathless agitation.
"I drew him to sit upon the chair on the rug, and"--again she
shuddered from head to foot, "and I sprang the trap and precipitated
him to--oh, heaven of heavens!--where? I know not!"
"But you--you were unharmed?"
"Yes--yes!"
"Oh, Cap! Oh, my dear Cap! Thank heaven for that!"
"But, uncle, where--oh, where did he go?" inquired Capitola, almost
wildly.
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