Books: Capitola The Madcap
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Emma D. E. N. Southworth >> Capitola The Madcap
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Then she hurried back into her own chamber, locked the pistols up in
her own drawer, and, wearied out with so much excitement, prepared
to go to rest. 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. She then threw around her shoulders a short circular
cape that concealed the weapons, and put on her hat and gloves and
went below.
She found her little groom already at the door with the horses. She
sprang into her saddle, and, bidding Jem follow her, took the road
toward Tip-Top.
She knew that Mr. Le Noir was in the habit of riding to the village
every morning, and she determined to meet him. She knew, from the
early hour of the day, that he could not possibly be ahead of her,
and she rode on slowly to give him an opportunity to overtake her.
Probably Craven Le Noir was later that morning than usual, for
Capitola had reached the entrance of the village before she heard
the sound of his horse's feet approaching behind her.
She did not wish that their encounter should be in the streets of
the village, so she instantly wheeled her horse and galloped back to
meet him.
As both were riding at full speed, they soon met.
She first drew rein, and, standing in his way, accosted him with:
"Mr. Le Noir!"
"Your most obedient, Miss Black!" he said, with a deep bow.
"I happen to be without father or brother to protect me from
affront, sir, and my uncle is an invalid veteran whom I will not
trouble! I am, therefore, under the novel necessity of fighting my
own battles! Yesterday, sir, I sent you a note demanding
satisfaction for a heinous slander you circulated against me! You
replied by an insulting note. You do not escape punishment so! Here
are two pistols; both are loaded; take either one of them; for, sir,
we have met, and now we do not part until one of us falls from the
horse!"
And so saying, she rode up to him and offered him the choice of the
pistols.
He laughed--partly in surprise and partly in admiration, as he said,
with seeming good humor:
"Miss Black, you are a very charming young woman, and delightfully
original and piquant in all your ideas; but you outrage all the laws
that govern the duello. You know that, as the challenged party, I
have the right to the choice of time, place and arms. I made that
choice yesterday. I renew it to-day. When you accede to the terms of
the meeting I shall endeavor to give you all the satisfaction you
demand! Good-morning, miss."
And with a deep bow, even to the flaps of his saddle, he rode past
her.
"That base insult again!" cried Capitola, with the blood rushing to
her face.
Then lifting her voice, she again accosted him: "Mr. Le Noir!"
He turned, with a smile.
She threw one of the pistols on the ground near him, saying: "Take
that up and defend yourself."
He waved his hand in negation, bowed, smiled, and rode on.
"Mr. Le Noir!" she called, in a peremptory tone.
Once more he turned.
She raised her pistol, took deliberate aim at his white forehead,
and fired--
Bang! bang! bang! bang! bang! bang!
Six times without an instant's intermission, until her revolver was
spent.
When the smoke cleared away, a terrible vision met her eyes!
It was Craven Le Noir with his face covered with blood, reeling in
his saddle, from which he soon dropped to the ground.
In falling his foot remained in the hanging stirrup. The well-
trained cavalry horse stood perfectly still, though trembling in a
panic of terror, from which he might at any moment start to run,
dragging the helpless body after him.
Capitola saw this danger, and not being cruel, she tempered justice
with mercy, threw down her spent pistol, dismounted from her horse,
went up to the fallen man, disengaged his foot from the stirrup,
and, taking hold of his shoulders, tried with all her might to drag
the still breathing form from the dusty road where it lay in danger
of being run over by wagons, to the green bank, where it might lie
in comparative safety.
But that heavy form was too much for her single strength. And,
calling her terrified groom to assist her, they removed the body.
Capitola then remounted her horse and galloped rapidly into the
village, and up to the "ladies' entrance" of the hotel, where, after
sending for the proprietor she said:
"I have just been shooting Craven Le Noir for slandering me; he lies
by the roadside at the entrance of the village; you had better send
somebody to pick him up."
"Miss!" cried the astonished inn-keeper.
Capitola distinctly repeated her words and then, leaving the inn-
keeper, transfixed with consternation, she crossed the street and
entered a magistrate's office, where a little, old gentleman, with a
pair of green spectacles resting on his hooked nose, sat at a
writing-table, giving some directions to a constable, who was
standing hat in hand before him.
Capitola waited until this functionary had his orders and a written
paper, and had left the office, and the magistrate was alone, before
she walked up to the desk and stood before him.
"Well, well, young woman! Well, well, what do you want?" inquired
the old gentleman, impatiently looking up from folding his papers.
"I have come to give myself up for shooting Craven Le Noir, who
slandered me," answered Capitola, quietly.
The old man let fall his hands full of papers, raised his head and
stared at her over the tops of his green spectacles.
"What did you say, young woman?" he asked, in the tone of one who
doubted his own ears.
"I say that I have forestalled an arrest by coming here to give
myself up for the shooting of a dastard who slandered, insulted and
refused to give me satisfaction," answered Capitola, very
distinctly.
"Am I awake? Do I hear aright? Do you mean to say that you have
killed a man?" asked the dismayed magistrate.
"Oh, I can't say as to the killing! I shot him off his horse and
then sent Mr. Merry and his men to pick him up, while I came here to
answer for myself!"
"Unfortunate girl! And how can you answer for such a dreadful deed?"
exclaimed the utterly confounded magistrate.
"Oh, as to the dreadfulness of the deed, that depends on
circumstances," said Cap, "and I can answer for it very well! He
made addresses to me. I refused him. He slandered me. I challenged
him. He insulted me. I shot him!"
"Miserable young woman, if this be proved true, I shall have to
commit you!"
"Just as you please," said Cap, "but bless your soul, that won't
help Craven Le Noir a single bit!"
As she spoke several persons entered the office in a state of high
excitement--all talking at once, saying:
"That is the girl!"
"Yes, that is her!"
"She is Miss Black, old Warfield's niece."
"Yes, he said she was," etc., etc., etc.
"What is all this, neighbors, what is all this?" inquired the
troubled magistrate, rising in his place.
"Why, sir, there's been a gentleman, Mr. Craven Le Noir, shot. He
has been taken to the Antlers, where he lies in articulus mortis,
and we wish him to be confronted with Miss Capitola Black, the young
woman here present, that he may identify her, whom he accuses of
having shot six charges into him, before his death. She needn't deny
it, because he is ready to swear to her!" said Mr. Merry, who
constituted himself spokesman.
"She accuses herself," said the magistrate, in dismay.
"Then, sir, had she not better be taken at once to the presence of
Mr. Le Noir, who may not have many minutes to live?"
"Yes, come along," said Cap. "I only gave myself up to wait for
this; and as he is already at hand, let's go and have it all over,
for I have been riding about in this frosty morning air for three
hours, and I have got a good appetite, and I want to go home to
breakfast."
"I am afraid, young woman, you will scarcely get home to breakfast
this morning," said Mr. Merry.
"We'll see that presently," answered Cap, composedly, as they all
left the office, and crossed the street to the Antlers.
They were conducted by the landlord to a chamber on the first floor,
where upon a bed lay stretched, almost without breath or motion, the
form of Craven Le Noir. His face was still covered with blood, that
the bystanders had scrupulously refused to wash off until the
arrival of the magistrate. His complexion, as far as it could be
seen, was very pale. He was thoroughly prostrated, if not actually
dying.
Around his bed were gathered the village doctor, the landlady and
several maid-servants.
"The squire has come, sir; are you able to speak to him?" asked the
landlord, approaching the bed.
"Yes, let him swear me," feebly replied the wounded man, "and then
send for a clergyman."
The landlady immediately left to send for Mr. Goodwin, and the
magistrate approached the head of the bed, and, speaking solemnly,
exhorted the wounded man, as he expected soon to give an account of
the works done in his body, to speak the truth, the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth, without reserve, malice or exaggeration, both
as to the deed and its provocation.
"I will I will--for I have sent for a minister and I intend to try
to make my peace with heaven," replied Le Noir.
The magistrate then directed Capitola to come and take her stand at
the foot of the bed, where the wounded man, who was lying on his
back, could see her without turning.
Cap came as she was commanded and stood there with some
irrepressible and incomprehensible mischief gleaming out from under
her long eye-lashes and from the corners of her dimpled lips.
The magistrate then administered the oath to Craven Le Noir, and
bade him look upon Capitola and give his evidence.
He did so, and under the terrors of a guilty conscience and of
expected death, his evidence partook more of the nature of a
confession than an accusation. He testified that he had addressed
Capitola, and had been rejected by her; then, under the influence of
evil motives, he had circulated insinuations against her honor,
which were utterly unjustifiable by fact; she, seeming to have heard
of them, took the strange course of challenging him--just as if she
had been a man. He could not, of course, meet a lady in a duel, but
he had taken advantage of the technical phraseology of the
challenged party, as to time, place and weapons, to offer her a deep
insult; then she had waylaid him on the highway, offered him his
choice of a pair of revolvers, and told him that, having met, they
should not part until one or the other fell from the horse; he had
again laughingly refused the encounter except upon the insulting
terms he had before proposed. She had then thrown him one of the
pistols, bidding him defend himself. He had laughingly passed her
when she called him by name, he had turned and she fired--six times
in succession, and he fell. He knew no more until he was brought to
his present room. He said in conclusion he did not wish that the
girl should be prosecuted, as she had only avenged her own honor;
and that he hoped his death would be taken by her and her friends as
a sufficient expiation of his offenses against her; and, lastly he
requested that he might be left alone with the minister.
"Bring that unhappy young woman over to my office, Ketchum," said
the magistrate, addressing himself to a constable. Then turning to
the landlord, he said:
"Sir, it would be a charity in you to put a messenger on horseback
and send him to Hurricane Hall for Major Warfield, who will have to
enter into a recognizance for Miss Black's appearance at court."
"Stop," said Cap, "don't be too certain of that! 'Be always sure
you're right--then go ahead!' Is not any one here cool enough to
reflect that if I had fired six bullets at that man's forehead and
every one had struck, I should have blown his head to the sky? Will
not somebody at once wash his face and see how deep the wounds are?"
The doctor who had been restrained by others now took a sponge and
water and cleaned the face of Le Noir, which was found to be well
peppered with split peas!
Cap looked around, and seeing the astonished looks of the good
people, bust into an irrepressible fit of laughter, saying, as soon
as she had got breath enough:
"Upon my word, neighbors, you look more shocked, if not actually
more disappointed, to find that, after all he is not killed, and
there'll be no spectacle, than you did at first when you thought
murder had been done."
"Will you be good enough to explain this, young woman?" said the
magistrate, severely.
"Certainly, for your worship seems as much disappointed as others!"
said Cap. Then turning toward the group around the bed, she said:
"You have heard Mr. Le Noir's 'last dying speech and confession,' as
he supposed it to be; and you know the maddening provocations that
inflamed my temper against him. Last night, after having received
his insulting answer to my challenge, there was evil in my heart, I
do assure you! I possessed myself of my uncle's revolvers and
resolved to waylay him this morning and force him to give me
satisfaction, or if he refused--well, no matter! I tell you, there
was danger in me! But, before retiring to bed at night, it is my
habit to say my prayers; now the practice of prayer and the purpose
of 'red-handed violence' cannot exist in the same person at the same
time! I wouldn't sleep without praying, and I couldn't pray without
giving up my thoughts of fatal vengeance upon Craven Le Noir. So at
last I made up my mind to spare his life, and teach him a lesson.
The next morning I drew the charges of the revolvers and reloaded
them with poor powder and dried peas! Everything else has happened
just as he has told you! He has received no harm, except in being
terribly frightened, and in having his beauty spoiled! And as for
that, didn't I offer him one of the pistols, and expose my own face
to similar damage? For I'd scorn to take advantage of any one!" said
Cap, laughing.
Craven Le Noir had now raised himself up in a sitting posture, and
was looking around with an expression of countenance which was a
strange blending of relief at this unexpected respite from the
grave, and intense mortification at finding himself in the
ridiculous position which the address of Capitola and his own weak
nerves, cowardice and credulity had placed him.
Cap went up to him and said, in a consoling voice:
"Come, thank heaven that you are not going to die this bout! I'm
glad you repented and told the truth; and I hope you may live long
enough to offer heaven a truer repentance than that which is the
mere effect of fright! For I tell you plainly that if it had not
been for the grace of the Lord, acting upon my heart last night,
your soul might have been in Hades now!"
Craven Le Noir shut his eyes, groaned and fell back overpowered by
the reflection.
"Now, please your worship, may I go home?" asked Cap, demurely,
popping down a mock courtesy to the magistrate.
"Yes--go! go! go! go! go!" said that officer, with an expression as
though he considered our Cap an individual of the animal kingdom
whom neither Buffon nor any other natural philosopher had ever
classified, and who, as a creature of unknown habits, might
sometimes be dangerous.
Cap immediately availed herself of the permission, and went out to
look for her servant and horses.
But Jem, the first moment he had found himself unwatched, had put
out as fast as he could fly to Hurricane Hall, to inform Major
Warfield of what had occurred.
And Capitola, after losing a great deal of time in looking for him,
mounted her horse and was just about to start, when who should ride
up in hot haste but Old Hurricane, attended by Wool.
"Stop there!" he shouted, as he saw Cap.
She obeyed, and he sprang from his horse with the agility of youth,
and helped her to descend from hers.
Then drawing her arm within his own, he led her into the parlor,
and, putting an unusual restraint upon himself, he ordered her to
tell him all about the affair.
Cap sat down and gave him the whole history from beginning to end.
Old Hurricane could not sit still to hear. He strode up and down the
room, striking his stick upon the floor, and uttering inarticulate
sounds of rage and defiance.
When Cap had finished her story he suddenly stopped before her,
brought down the point of his stick with a resounding thump upon the
floor and exclaimed:
"Demmy, you New York newsboy! Will you never be a woman? Why the
demon didn't you tell me, sirrah? I would have called the fellow out
and chastised him to your heart's content! Hang it, miss, answer me
and say!"
"Because you are on the invalid list and I am in sound condition and
capable of taking my own part!" said Cap.
"Then, answer me this, while you were taking your own part, why the
foul fiend didn't you pepper him with something sharper than dried
peas?"
"I think he is quite as severely punished in suffering from extreme
terror and intense mortification and public ridicule," said Cap.
"And now, uncle, I have not eaten a single blessed mouthful this
morning, and I am hungry enough to eat up Gyp, or to satisfy Patty."
Old Hurricane, permitting his excitement to subside in a few
expiring grunts, rang the bell and gave orders for breakfast to be
served.
And after that meal was over he set out with his niece for Hurricane
Hall.
And upon arriving at home he addressed a letter to Mr. Le Noir, to
the effect that as soon as the latter should have recovered from the
effect of his fright and mortification, he, Major Warfield, should
demand and expect satisfaction.
CHAPTER XVIII.
BLACK DONALD'S LAST ATTEMPT.
Who can express the horror of that night,
When darkness lent his robes to monster fear?
And heaven's black mantle, banishing the light,
Made everything in fearful form appear.
--BRANDON.
Let it not be supposed that Black Donald had forgotten his promise
to Colonel Le Noir, or was indifferent to its performance.
But many perilous failures had taught him caution.
He had watched and waylaid Capitola in her rides. But the girl
seemed to bear a charmed safety; for never once had he caught sight
of her except in company with her groom and with Craven Le Noir. And
very soon by eavesdropping on these occasions, he learned the secret
design of the son to forestall the father, and run off with the
heiress.
And as Black Donald did not foresee what success Craven Le Noir
might have with Capitola, he felt the more urgent necessity for
prompt action on his own part.
He might, indeed, have brought his men and attacked and overcome
Capitola's attendants, in open day; but the enterprise must needs
have been attended with great bloodshed and loss of life, which
would have made a sensation in the neighborhood that Black Donald,
in the present state of his fortunes, was by no means ambitious of
daring.
In a word, had such an act of unparalleled violence been attempted,
the better it succeeded the greater would have been the indignation
of the people, and the whole country would probably have risen and
armed themselves and hunted the outlaws, as so many wild beasts,
with horses and hounds.
Therefore, Black Donald preferred quietly to abduct his victim, so
as to leave no trace of her "taking off," but to allow it to be
supposed that she had eloped.
He resolved to undertake this adventure alone, though to himself
personally this plan was even more dangerous than the other.
He determined to gain access to her chamber, secrete himself
anywhere in the room (except under the bed, where his instincts
informed him that Capitola every night looked), and when the
household should be buried in repose, steal out upon her, overpower,
gag and carry her off, in the silence of the night, leaving no trace
of his own presence behind.
By means of one of his men, who went about unsuspected among the
negroes, buying up mats and baskets, that the latter were in the
habit of making for sale, he learned that Capitola occupied the same
remote chamber, in the oldest part of the house; but that a guest
slept in the room next, and another in the one opposite hers. And
that the house was besides full of visitors from the city, who had
come down to spend the sporting season, and that they were hunting
all day and carousing all night from one week's end to another.
On hearing this, Black Donald quickly comprehended that it was no
time to attempt the abduction of the maiden, with the least
probability of success. All would be risked and most probably lost
in the endeavor.
He resolved, therefore, to wait until the house should be clear of
company, and the household fallen into their accustomed carelessness
and monotony.
He had to wait much longer than he had reckoned upon--through
October and through November, when he first heard of and laughed
over Cap's "duel" with Craven Le Noir, and congratulated himself
upon the fact that that rival was no longer to be feared. He had
also to wait through two-thirds of the month of December, because a
party had come down to enjoy a short season of fox-hunting. They
went away just before Christmas.
And then at last came Black Donald's opportunity! And a fine
opportunity it was! Had Satan himself engaged to furnish him with
one to order, it could not have been better!
The reader must know that throughout Virginia the Christmas week,
from the day after Christmas until the day after New-year, is the
negroes' saturnalia! There are usually eight days of incessant
dancing, feasting and frolicking from quarter to quarter, and from
barn to barn. Then the banjo, the fiddle and the "bones" are heard
from morning until night, and from night until morning.
And nowhere was this annual octave of festivity held more sacred
than at Hurricane Hall. It was the will of Major Warfield that they
should have their full satisfaction out of their seven days'
carnival. He usually gave a dinner party on Christmas day, after
which his people were free until the third of January.
"Demmy, mum!" he would say to Mrs. Condiment, "they wait on us
fifty-one weeks in the year, and it's hard if we can't wait on
ourselves the fifty-second!"
Small thanks to Old Hurricane for his self-denial! He did nothing
for himself or others, and Mrs. Condiment and Capitola had a hot
time of it in serving him. Mrs. Condiment had to do all the cooking
and housework. And Cap had to perform most of the duties of Major
Warfield's valet. And that was the way in which Old Hurricane waited
on himself.
It happened, therefore, that about the middle of the Christmas week,
being Wednesday, the twenty-eighth of December, all the house-
servants and farm laborers from Hurricane. Hall went off in a body
to a banjo break-down given at a farm five miles across the country.
And Major Warfield, Mrs. Condiment and Capitola were the only living
beings left in the old house that night.
Black Donald, who had been prowling about the premises evening after
evening, watching his opportunity to effect his nefarious object,
soon discovered the outward bound stampede of the negroes, and the
unprotected state in which the old house, for that night only, would
be left. And he determined to take advantage of the circumstance to
consummate his wicked purpose.
In its then defenceless condition he could easily have mustered his
force and carried off his prize without immediate personal risk.
But, as we said before, he eschewed violence, as being likely to
provoke after effects of a too fatal character.
He resolved rather at once to risk his own personal safety in the
quieter plan of abduction which he had formed.
He determined that as soon as it should be dark he would watch his
opportunity to enter the house, steal to Cap's chamber, secrete
himself in a closet, and when all should be quiet, "in the dead
waste and middle of the night," he would come out, master her, stop
her mouth and carry her off.
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