The awful peril of Capitola
Out of this nettle, danger,
I’ll pluck the flower, safety!
Shakespeare.
Capitola’s blood seemed turned
to ice, and her form to stone by the sight! Her
first impulse was to scream and let fall the waiter!
She controlled herself and repressed the scream though
she was very near dropping the waiter.
Black Donald looked at her and laughed
aloud at her consternation, saying with a chuckle:
“You did not expect to see me
here to-night, did you now, my dear?”
She gazed at him in a silent panic for a moment.
Then her faculties, that had been
suddenly dispersed by the shock, as suddenly rallied
to her rescue.
In one moment she understood her real position.
Black Donald had locked her in with
himself and held the key so she could not
hope to get out.
The loudest scream that she might
utter would never reach the distant chamber of Major
Warfield, or the still more remote apartment of Mrs.
Condiment; so she could not hope to bring any one to
her assistance.
She was, therefore, entirely in the
power of Black Donald. She fully comprehended
this, and said to herself:
“Now, my dear Cap, if you don’t
look sharp your hour is come! Nothing on earth
will save you, Cap, but your own wits! For if
ever I saw mischief in any one’s face, it is
in that fellow’s that is eating you up with
his great eyes at the same time that he is laughing
at you with his big mouth! Now, Cap, my little
man, be a woman! Don’t you stick at trifles!
Think of Jael and Sisera! Think of Judith and
Holofernes! And the devil and Doctor Faust, if
necessary, and don’t you blanch! All stratagems
are fair in love and war especially in war,
and most especially in such a war as this is likely
to be a contest in close quarters for dear
life!”
All this passed through her mind in
one moment, and in the next her plan was formed.
Setting her waiter down upon the table
and throwing herself into one of the armchairs, she
said:
“Well, upon my word! I
think a gentleman might let a lady know when he means
to pay her a domiciliary visit at midnight!”
“Upon my word, I think you are
very cool!” replied Black Donald, throwing himself
into the second armchair on the other side of the
stand of refreshments.
“People are likely to be cool
on a December night, with the thermometer at zero,
and the ground three feet under the snow,” said
Cap, nothing daunted.
“Capitola, I admire you!
You are a cucumber! That’s what you are,
a cucumber!”
“A pickled one?” asked Cap.
“Yes, and as pickled cucumbers
are good to give one an appetite, I think I shall
fall to and eat.”
“Do so,” said Cap, “for
heaven forbid that I should fail in hospitality!”
“Why, really, this looks as
though you had expected a visitor doesn’t
it?” asked Black Donald, helping himself to a
huge slice of ham, and stretching his feet out toward
the fire.
“Well, yes, rather; though,
to say the truth, it was not your reverence I expected,”
said Cap.
“Ah! somebody else’s reverence,
eh? Well, let them come! I’ll be ready
for them!” said the outlaw, pouring out and quaffing
a large glass of brandy. He drank it, set down
the glass, and turning to our little heroine, inquired:
“Capitola did you ever have
Craven Le Noir here to supper with you?”
“You insult me! I scorn to reply!”
said Cap.
“Whe-ew! What long whiskers
our Grimalkin’s got! You scorn to reply!
Then you really are not afraid of me?” asked
the robber, rolling a great piece of cheese in his
mouth.
“Afraid of you? No, I guess
not!” replied Cap, with a toss of her head.
“Yet, I might do you some harm.”
“But, you won’t!”
“Why won’t I?”
“Because it won’t pay!”
“Why wouldn’t it?”
“Because you couldn’t
do me any harm, unless you were to kill me, and you
would gain nothing by my death, except a few trinkets
that you may have without.”
“Then, you are really not afraid
of me?” he asked, taking another deep draught
of brandy.
“Not a bit of it I rather like you!”
“Come, now, you’re running
a rig upon a fellow,” said the outlaw, winking
and depositing a huge chunk of bread in his capacious
jaws.
“No, indeed! I liked you,
long before I ever saw you! I always did like
people that make other people’s hair stand on
end! Don’t you remember when you first
came here disguised as a peddler, though I did not
know who you were, when we were talking of Black Donald,
and everybody was abusing him, except myself?
I took his part and said that for my part I liked
Black Donald and wanted to see him.”
“Sure enough, my jewel, so you
did! And didn’t I bravely risk my life
by throwing off my disguise to gratify your laudable
wish?”
“So you did, my hero!”
“Ah, but well as you liked me,
the moment you thought me in your power didn’t
you leap upon my shoulders like a catamount and cling
there, shouting to all the world to come and help
you, for you had caught Black Donald and would die
before you would give him up? Ah! you little
vampire, how you thirsted for my blood! And you
pretended to like me!” said Black Donald, eying
her from head to foot, with a sly leer.
Cap returned the look with interest.
Dropping her head on one side, she glanced upward
from the corner of her eye, with an expression of
“infinite” mischief and roguery, saying:
“Lor, didn’t you know why I did that?”
“Because you wanted me captured, I suppose.”
“No, indeed, but, because ”
“Well, what?”
“Because I wanted you to carry me off!”
“Well, I declare! I never
thought of that!” said the outlaw, dropping
his bread and cheese, and staring at the young girl.
“Well, you might have thought
of it then! I was tired of hum-drum life, and
I wanted to see adventures!” said Cap.
Black Donald looked at the mad girl
from head to foot and then said, coolly:
“Miss Black, I am afraid you are not good.”
“Yes I am before folks!” said
Cap.
“And so you really wished me to carry you off?”
“I should think so! Didn’t I stick
to you until you dropped me?”
“Certainly! And now if
you really like me as well as you say you do, come
give me a kiss.”
“I won’t!” said
Cap, “until you have done your supper and washed
your face! Your beard is full of crumbs!”
“Very well, I can wait awhile!
Meantime just brew me a bowl of egg-nog, by way of
a night-cap, will you?” said the outlaw, drawing
off his boots and stretching his feet to the fire.
“Agreed, but it takes two to
make egg-nog; you’ll have to whisk up the whites
of the eggs into a froth, while I beat the yellows,
and mix the other ingredients,” said Cap.
“Just so,” assented the
outlaw, standing up and taking off his coat and flinging
it upon the floor.
Cap shuddered, but went on calmly
with her preparations. There were two little
white bowls setting one within the other upon the table.
Cap took them apart and set them side by side and
began to break the eggs, letting the whites slip into
one bowl and dropping the yellows into the other.
Black Donald sat down in his shirt
sleeves, took one of the bowls from Capitola and began
to whisk up the whites with all his might and main.
Capitola beat up the yellows, gradually
mixing the sugar with it. In the course of her
work she complained that the heat of the fire scorched
her face, and she drew her chair farther towards the
corner of the chimney, and pulled the stand after
her.
“Oh, you are trying to get away
from me,” said Black Donald, hitching his own
chair in the same direction, close to the stand, so
that he sat immediately in front of the fireplace.
Cap smiled and went on beating her
eggs and sugar together. Then she stirred in
the brandy and poured in the milk and took the bowl
from Black Donald and laid on the foam. Finally,
she filled a goblet with the rich compound and handed
it to her uncanny guest.
Black Donald untied his neck cloth,
threw it upon the floor and sipped his egg-nog, all
the while looking over the top of the glass at Capitola.
“Miss Black,” he said, “it must
be past twelve o’clock.”
“I suppose it is,” said Cap.
“Then it must be long past your usual hour of
retiring.”
“Of course it is,” said Cap.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
“For my company to go home,” replied Cap.
“Meaning me?”
“Meaning you.”
“Oh, don’t mind me, my dear.”
“Very well,” said Cap,
“I shall not trouble myself about you,”
and her tones were steady, though her heart seemed
turned into a ball of ice, through terror.
Black Donald went on slowly sipping
his egg-nog, filling up his goblet when it was empty,
and looking at Capitola over the top of his glass.
At last he said:
“I have been watching you, Miss Black.”
“Little need to tell me that,” said Cap.
“And I have been reading you.”
“Well, I hope the page was entertaining.”
“Well, yes, my dear, it was, rather so.
But why don’t you proceed?”
“Proceed with what?”
“With what you are thinking of, my darling.”
“I don’t understand you!”
“Why don’t you offer to go down-stairs
and bring up some lemons?”
“Oh, I’ll go in a moment,” said
Cap, “if you wish.”
“Ha ha ha ha ha!
Of course you will, my darling! And you’d
deliver me into the hands of the Philistines, just
as you did my poor men when you fooled them about
the victuals! I know your tricks and all your
acting has no other effect on me than to make me admire
your wonderful coolness and courage; so, my dear,
stop puzzling your little head with schemes to baffle
me! You are like the caged starling! You
can’t get out!”
chuckled Black Donald, hitching his chair nearer to
hers. He was now right upon the center of the
rug.
Capitola turned very pale, but not
with fear, though Black Donald thought she did, and
roared with laughter.
“Have you done your supper?” she asked,
with a sort of awful calmness.
“Yes my duck,” replied
the outlaw, pouring the last of the egg-nog into his
goblet, drinking it at a draught and chuckling as he
set down the glass.
Capitola then lifted the stand with
the refreshments to remove it to its usual place.
“What are you going to do, my dear?” asked
Black Donald.
“Clear away the things and set
the room in order,” said Capitola, in the same
awfully calm tone.
“A nice little housewife you’ll make,
my duck!” said Black Donald.
Capitola set the stand in its corner
and then removed her own armchair to its place before
the dressing bureau.
Nothing now remained upon the rug
except Black Donald seated in the armchair!
Capitola paused; her blood seemed
freezing in her veins; her heart beat thickly; her
throat was choked; her head full nearly to bursting,
and her eyes were veiled by a blinding film.
“Come come my
duck make haste; it is late; haven’t
you done setting the room in order yet?” said
Black Donald, impatiently.
“In one moment,” said
Capitola, coming behind his chair and leaning upon
the back of it.
“Donald,” she said, with
dreadful calmness, “I will not now call you
Black Donald! I will call you as your poor mother
did, when your young soul was as white as your skin,
before she ever dreamed her boy would grow black with
crime! I will call you simply Donald, and entreat
you to hear me for a few minutes.”
“Talk on, then, but talk fast,
and leave my mother alone! Let the dead rest!”
exclaimed the outlaw, with a violent convulsion of
his bearded chin and lip that did not escape the notice
of Capitola, who hoped some good of this betrayal
of feeling.
“Donald,” she said, “men
call you a man of blood; they say that your hand is
red and your soul black with crime!”
“They may say what they like I
care not!” laughed the outlaw.
“But I do not believe all this
of you! I believe that there is good in all,
and much good in you; that there is hope for all, and
strong hope for you!”
“Bosh! Stop talking poetry!
’Tain’t in my line, nor yours, either!”
laughed Black Donald.
“But truth is in all our lines.
Donald, I repeat it, men call you a man of blood!
They say that your hands are red and your soul black
with sin! Black Donald, they call you! But,
Donald, you have never yet stained your soul with
a crime as black as that which you think of perpetrating
to-night!”
“It must be one o’clock,
and I’m tired,” replied the outlaw, with
a yawn.
“All your former acts,”
continued Capitola, in the same voice of awful calmness,
“have been those of a bold, bad man! This
act would be that of a base one!”
“Take care, girl no
bad names! You are in my power at my
mercy!”
“I know my position, but I must
continue. Hitherto you have robbed mail coaches
and broken into rich men’s houses. In doing
thus you have always boldly risked your life, often
at such fearful odds that men have trembled at their
firesides to hear of it. And even women, while
deploring your crimes, have admired your courage.”
“I thank ’em kindly for
it! Women always like men with a spice of the
devil in them!” laughed the outlaw.
“No, they do not!” said
Capitola, gravely. “They like men of strength,
courage and spirit but those qualities do
not come from the Evil One, but from the Lord, who
is the giver of all good. Your Creator, Donald,
gave you the strength, courage and spirit that all
men and women so much admire; but He did not give
you these great powers that you might use them in
the service of his enemy, the devil!”
“I declare there is really something
in that! I never thought of that before.”
“Nor ever thought, perhaps,
that however misguided you may have been, there is
really something great and good in yourself that might
yet be used for the good of man and the glory of God!”
said Capitola, solemnly.
“Ha, ha, ha! Oh, you flatterer!
Come, have you done? I tell you it is after one
o’clock, and I am tired to death!”
“Donald, in all your former
acts of lawlessness your antagonists were strong men;
and as you boldly risked your life in your depredations,
your acts, though bad, were not base! But now
your antagonist is a feeble girl, who has been unfortunate
from her very birth; to destroy her would be an act
of baseness to which you never yet descended.”
“Bosh! Who talks of destruction?
I am tired of all this nonsense! I mean to carry
you off and there’s an end of it!” said
the outlaw, doggedly, rising from his seat.
“Stop!” said Capitola,
turning ashen pale. “Stop sit
down and hear me for just five minutes I
will not tax your patience longer.”
The robber, with a loud laugh, sank
again into his chair, saying:
“Very well, talk on for just
five minutes, and not a single second longer; but
if you think in that time to persuade me to leave this
room to-night without you, you are widely out of your
reckoning, my duck, that’s all.”
“Donald, do not sink your soul
to perdition by a crime that heaven cannot pardon!
Listen to me! I have jewels here worth several
thousand dollars! If you will consent to go I
will give them all to you and let you quietly out
of the front door and never say one word to mortal
of what has passed here to-night.”
“Ha, ha, ha! Why, my dear,
how green you must think me! What hinders me
from possessing myself of your jewels, as well as of
yourself!” said Black Donald, impatiently rising.
“Sit still! The five minutes’
grace are not half out yet,” said Capitola,
in a breathless voice.
“So they are not! I will
keep my promise,” replied Black Donald, laughing,
and again dropping into his seat.
“Donald, Uncle pays me a quarterly
sum for pocket money, which is at least five times
as much as I can spend in this quiet country place.
It has been accumulating for years until now I have
several thousand dollars all of my own. You shall
have it if you will only go quietly away and leave
me in peace!” prayed Capitola.
“My dear, I intend to take that
anyhow take it as your bridal dower, you
know! For I’m going to carry you off and
make an honest wife of you!”
“Donald, give up this heinous
purpose!” cried Capitola, in an agony of supplication,
as she leaned over the back of the outlaw’s
chair.
“Yes, you know I will ha ha ha!”
laughed the robber.
“Man, for your own sake give it up!”
“Ha, ha, ha! for my sake!”
“Yes, for yours! Black
Donald, have you ever reflected on death?” asked
Capitola, in a low and terrible voice.
“I have risked it often enough;
but as to reflecting upon it it will be
time enough to do that when it comes! I am a powerful
man, in the prime and pride of life,” said the
athlete, stretching himself exultingly.
“Yet it might come death
might come with sudden overwhelming power, and hurl
you to destruction! What a terrible thing for
this magnificent frame of yours, this glorious handiwork
of the Creator, to be hurled to swift destruction,
and for the soul that animates it to be cast into
hell!”
“Bosh again! That is a
subject for the pulpit, not for a pretty girl’s
room. If you really think me such a handsome man,
why don’t you go with me at once and say no
more about it,” roared the outlaw laughing.
“Black Donald will
you leave my room?” cried Capitola, in an agony
of prayer.
“No!” answered the outlaw, mocking her
tone.
“Is there no inducement that I can hold out
to you to leave me?”
“None!”
Capitola raised herself from her leaning
posture, took a step backward, so that she stood entirely
free from the trap-door, then slipping her foot under
the rug, she placed it lightly on the spring-bolt,
which she was careful not to press; the ample fall
of her dress concealed the position of her foot.
Capitola was now paler than a corpse,
for hers was the pallor of a living horror! Her
heart beat violently, her head throbbed, her voice
was broken as she said:
“Man, I will give you one more
chance! Oh, man, pity yourself as I pity you,
and consent to leave me!”
“Ha, ha, ha! It is quite
likely that I will! Isn’t it, now?
No, my duck, I haven’t watched and planned for
this chance for this long time past to give it up,
now that you are in my power! A likely story
indeed! And now the five minutes’ grace
are quite up!”
“Stop! Don’t move
yet! Before you stir, say: ’Lord, have
mercy on me!” said Capitola, solemnly.
“Ha, ha, ha! That’s
a pretty idea! Why should I say that?”
“Say it to please me! Only say it, Black
Donald!”
“But why to please you?”
“Because I wish not to kill
both your body and soul because I would
not send you prayerless into the presence of your Creator!
For, Black Donald, within a few seconds your body
will be hurled to swift destruction, and your soul
will stand before the bar of God!” said Capitola,
with her foot upon the spring of the concealed trap.
She had scarcely ceased speaking before
he bounded to his feet, whirled around and confronted
her, like a lion at bay, roaring forth:
“You have a revolver there,
girl move a finger and I shall throw myself
upon you like an avalanche?”
“I have no revolver watch
my hands as I take them forth, and see!” said
Capitola, stretching her arms out toward him.
“What do you mean, then, by
your talk of sudden destruction?” inquired Black
Donald, in a voice of thunder.
“I mean that it hangs over you that
it is imminent! That it is not to be escaped!
Oh, man, call on God, for you have not a minute to
live!”
The outlaw gazed on her in astonishment.
Well he might, for there she stood
paler than marble sterner than fate with
no look of human feeling about her, but the gleaming
light of her terrible eyes, and the beading sweat
upon her death-like brow.
For an instant the outlaw gazed on
her in consternation, and then, recovering himself
he burst into a loud laugh, exclaiming:
“Ha, ha, ha! Well, I suppose
this is what people would call a piece of splendid
acting! Do you expect to frighten me, my dear,
as you did Craven Le Noir, with the peas!”
“Say ’Lord have mercy
on my soul’ say it. Black Donald say
it. I beseech you!” she prayed.
“Ha, ha, ha, my dear! You
may say it for me! And to reward you, I will
give you, such a kiss! It will put life into those
marble cheeks of yours!” he laughed.
“I will say it for you!
May the Lord pity and save Black Donald’s soul,
if that be yet possible, for the Saviour’s sake!”
prayed Capitola, in a broken voice, with her foot
upon the concealed and fatal spring.
He laughed aloud, stretched forth
his arms and rushed to clasp her.
She pressed the spring.
The drop fell with a tremendous crash!
The outlaw shot downwards there
was an instant’s vision of a white and panic-stricken
face, and wild, uplifted hands as he disappeared, and
then a square, black opening, was all that remained
where the terrible intruder had sat.
No sight or sound came up from that
horrible pit, to hint of the secrets of the prison
house.
One shuddering glance at the awful
void and then Capitola turned and threw herself, face
downward, upon the bed, not daring to rejoice in the
safety that had been purchased by such a dreadful deed,
feeling that it was an awful, though a complete victory!