I could
never be happy again if on my wedding-day you should die a felon's
death! Here! here are tools with the use of which you must be
acquainted, for they were found in the woods near the Hidden House!"
said Capitola, producing from her pockets a burglar's lock-pick,
saw, chisel, file, etc.
Black Donald seized them as a famished wolf might seize his prey.
"Will they do?" inquired Capitola, in breathes anxiety.
"Yes--yes--yes! I can file off my irons, pick every lock, drive back
every bolt, and dislodge every bar between myself and freedom with
these instruments! But, child, there is one thing you have
forgotten: suppose a turnkey or a guard should stop me? You have
brought me no revolver!"
Capitola turned pale.
"Donald, I could easily have brought you a revolver; but I would
not, even to save you from to-morrow's death! No, Donald, no! I give
you the means of freeing yourself, if you can do it, as you may,
without bloodshed! But, Donald, though your life is not justly
forfeited, your liberty is, and so I cannot give you the means of
taking any one's life for the sake of saving your own! "
"You are right," said the outlaw.
"Listen further, Donald. Here are a thousand dollars! I thought
never to have taken it from the bank, for I would never have used
the price of blood! But I drew it to-day for you.
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