The next morning, while Capitola was dressing; her groom rapped at
the door and, in great dismay, begged that he might speak to Miss
Cap one minute.
"Well, what is it, Jem?" said Capitola.
"Oh, Miss Cap, you'll kill me! I done been got up long afore day and
gone to Tip-Top arter Gyp, but somebody done been stole him away
afore I got there!"
"Thank heaven!" cried Capitola, to little Jem's unspeakable
amazement. For to Capitola the absence of her horse meant just the
escape of Black Donald!
The next minute Cap sighed and said:
"Poor Gyp! I shall never see you again!"
That was all she knew of the future!
That morning while they were all at breakfast a groom from the
stables came in with a little canvas bag in his hand, which he laid,
with a bow, before his master.
Major Warfield took it up; it was full of gold, and upon its side
was written, in red chalk:
"Three hundred dollars, to pay for Fleetfoot.--Black Donald,
Reformed Robber."
While Old Hurricane was reading this inscription, the groom said
that Fleetfoot was missing from his stall, and that Miss Cap's pony,
that was supposed to have been stolen, was found in his place, with
this bag of gold tied around his neck!
"It is Black Donald--he has escaped!" cried Old Hurricane, about to
fling himself into a rage, when his furious eyes encountered the
gentle gaze of Marah, that fell like oil on the waves of his rising
passion.
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