Hidden Hand Part 44

"I'd like to know who'll prevent me," said Cap.

"I will, Miss Vixen! Demmy, I'll not be set at naught by a beggar! Mrs.

Condiment, leave the room, mum, and don't be sitting there listening to every word I have to say to my ward. Wool, be off with yourself, sir; what do you stand there gaping and staring for? Be off, or----" the old man looked around for a missile, but before he found one the room was evacuated except by himself and Capitola.

"Now, minion," he began, as soon as he found himself alone with the little rebel, "I did not choose to mortify you before the servants, but, once for all, I will have you to understand that I intend to be obeyed."

And Old Hurricane "gathered his brows like a gathering storm."

"Sir, if you were really my uncle, or my father, or my legal guardian, I should have no choice but obey you; but the same fate that made me desolate made me free--a freedom that I would not exchange for any gilded slavery," said Cap, gaily.

"Pis.h.!.+ tus.h.!.+ pshaw! I say I will have no more of this nonsense. I say I will be obeyed," cried Old Hurricane, striking his cane down upon the floor, "and in proof of it I order you immediately to go and take off that gala dress and settle yourself down to your studies for the day."

"Uncle, I will obey you as far as taking off this dress goes, for, since you won't give me a seat in your carriage, I shall have to put on my habit and ride Gyp," said Cap, good humoredly.

"What! Do you dare to hint that you have the slightest idea of going to the fair against my will?"

"Yes, sir," said Cap, gaily. "Sorry it's against your will, but can't help it; not used to being ordered about and don't know how to submit, and so I'm going."

"Ungrateful girl; actually meditating disobedience on the horse I gave her!"

"Easy now, uncle--fair and easy. I did not sell my free will for Gyp! I wouldn't for a thousand Gyps! He was a free gift," said Capitola, beginning an impatient little dance about the floor.

"Come here to me; come--here--to--me!" exclaimed the old man peremptorily, rapping his cane down upon the floor with every syllable.

Capitola danced up to him and stood half smiling and fingering and arranging the lace of her under sleeves.

"Listen to me, you witch! Do you intend to obey me or not?"

"Not," said Cap, good-humoredly adjusting her cameo bracelet and holding up her arm to see its effect.

"You will not! Then, demmy, miss, I shall know how to make you!"

thundered Old Hurricane, bringing the point of his stick down with a sharp rap.

"Eh!" cried Capitola, looking up in astonishment.

"Yes, miss; that's what I said--make you!"

"I should like to know how," said Cap, returning to her cool good humor.

"You would, would you? Demmy, I'll tell you! I have broken haughtier spirits than yours in my life. Would you know how?"

"Yes," said Cap, indifferently, still busied with her bracelets.

"Stoop and I will whisper the mystery."

Capitola bent her graceful head to hear.

"With the rod!" hissed Old Hurricane, maliciously.

Capitola sprang up as if she had been shot, wave after wave of blood tiding up in burning blushes over neck, face and forehead; then, turning abruptly, she walked off to the window.

Old Hurricane, terrified at the effect of his rude, rash words, stood excommunicating himself for having been provoked to use them; nor was the next aspect of Capitola one calculated to rea.s.sure his perturbed feelings.

She turned around. Her face was as white as marble, excepting her glittering eyes; they, half sheathed under their long lashes, flashed like stilettoes. Raising her hand and keeping her eyes fixed upon him, with a slow and gliding motion, and the deep and measured voice that scarcely seemed to belong to a denizen of earth, she approached and stood before him and spoke these words:

"Uncle, in all the sorrows, shames and sufferings of my dest.i.tute childhood, no one ever dishonored my person with a blow; and if ever you should have the misfortune to forget your manhood so far as to strike me--" She paused, drew her breath hard between her set teeth, grew a shade whiter, while her dark eyes dilated until a white ring flamed around the iris.

"Oh, you perilous witch! what then!" cried Old Hurricane, in dismay.

"Why, then," said Capitola, speaking in a low, deep and measured tone, and keeping her gaze upon his astonished face, "the--first--time--I-- should--find--you--asleep--I--would--take--a--razor--and----"

"Cut my throat! I feel you would, you terrible termagant!" shuddered Old Hurricane.

"Shave your beard off smick, smack, smoove!" said Cap, bounding off and laughing merrily as she ran out of the room.

In an instant she came bounding back, saying, "Uncle, I will meet you at the fair; _au revoir, au revoir_!" and, kissing her hand, she dashed away and ran off to her room.

"She'll kill me; I know she will. If she don't do it one way she will in another. Whew! I'm perspiring at every pore. Wool! Wool, you scoundrel!"

exclaimed the old man, jerking the bell-rope as if he would have broken the wires.

"Yes, sir; here I am, ma.r.s.e," exclaimed that worthy, hastening in in a state of perturbation, for he dreaded another storm.

"Wool, go down to the stables and tell every man there that if either of them allows a horse to be brought out for the use of Miss Black to-day.

I'll flay them alive and break every bone in their skins. Away with you."

"Yes, sir," cried the shocked and terrified Wool, hurrying off to convey his panic to the stables.

Old Hurricane's carriage being ready, he entered it and drove off for the fair.

Next the house servants, with the exception of Pitapat, who was commanded to remain behind and wait upon her mistress, went off in a wagon.

When they were all gone, Capitola dressed herself in her riding-habit and sent Pitapat down to the stables to order one of the grooms to saddle Gyp and bring him up for her.

Now, when the little maid delivered this message, the unfortunate grooms were filled with dismay--they feared their tyrannical little mistress almost as much as their despotic old master, who, in the next change of his capricious temper, might punch all their heads for crossing the will of his favorite, even though in doing so they had followed his directions. An immediate private consultation was the consequence, and the result was that the head groom came to Pitapat, told her that he was sorry, but that Miss Black's pony had fallen lame.

The little maid went back with the answer.

When she was gone the head groom, calling to his fellows, said:

"That young gal ain't a-gwine to be fooled either by ole ma.r.s.e or we.

She'll be down here herself nex' minute and have the horse walked out.

Now we must make him lame a little. Light a match here, Jem, and I'll burn his foot."

This was immediately done. And, sure enough, while poor Gyp was still smarting with his burn, Capitola came, holding up her riding train and hurrying to the scene, and asking indignantly:

"Who dares to say that my horse is lame? Bring him out here this instant, that I may see him!"

The groom immediately took poor Gyp and led him limping to the presence of his mistress.