Hidden Hand Part 27

"Good morning, Cap."

Without taking the slightest notice of the salutation, Cap sailed on to her seat.

"Humph. Did you hear me say 'Good morning,' Cap?"

Without paying the least attention, Capitola reached out her hand and took a cup of coffee from Mrs. Condiment.

"Humph! Humph! Good morning, Capitola!" said Old Hurricane, with marked emphasis. Apparently without hearing him. Cap helped herself to a buckwheat cake and daintily b.u.t.tered it.

"Humph! humph! humph! Well as you said yourself, 'a dumb devil is better than a speaking one,'" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Old Hurricane, as he sat down and subsided into silence.

Doubtless the old man would have flown into another pa.s.sion, had that been possible; but, in truth, he had spent so much vitality in rage number one that he had none left to sustain rage number two. Besides, he knew it would be necessary to blow up Bill Ezy, his lazy overseer, before night, and perhaps saved himself for that performance. He finished his meal in silence and went out.

Cap finished hers, and, 'tempering justice with mercy,' went up-stairs to his room and looked over all his appointments and belongings to find what she would do for his extra comfort, and found a job in newly lining his warm slippers and the sleeves of his dressing-gown.

They met again at the dinner-table.

"How do you do, Cap?" said Old Hurricane, as he took his seat.

Capitola poured out a gla.s.s of water and drank it in silence.

"Oh, very well, 'a dumb devil,' etc.," exclaimed Old Hurricane, addressing himself to his dinner. When the meal was over they again separated. The old man went to his study to examine his farm books, and Capitola back to her chamber to finish lining his warm slippers.

Again at tea they met.

"Well, Cap is 'the dumb devil' cast out yet?" he said, sitting down.

Capitola took a cup of tea from Mrs. Condiment and pa.s.sed it on to him in silence.

"Humph! not gone yet, eh? Poor girl, how it must try you," said Old Hurricane.

After supper the old man found his dressing-gown and slippers before the fire all ready for his use.

"Cap, you monkey, you did this," he said, turning around. But Capitola had already left the room.

Next morning at breakfast there was a repet.i.tion of the same scene.

Early in the forenoon Major Warfield ordered his horses and, attended by Wool rode up to Tip-Top. He did not return either to dinner or tea, but as that circ.u.mstance was not unusual, it gave no uneasiness. Mrs.

Condiment kept his supper warm, and Capitola had his dressing-gown and slippers ready.

She was turning them before the fire when the old man arrived. He came in quite gayly, saying:

"Now, Cap, I think I have found a talisman at last to cast out that 'dumb devil.' I heard you wis.h.i.+ng for a watch the other day. Now, as devils belong to eternity, and have no business with time, of course the sight of this little time-keeper must put yours to flight," and so saying he laid upon the table, before the eyes of Capitola, a beautiful little gold watch and chain. She glanced at it as it lay glittering and sparkling in the lamplight, and then turned abruptly and walked away.

"Humph! that's always the way the devils do--fly when they can't stand shot."

Capitola deliberately walked back, laid a paper over the little watch and chain, as if to cover its fascinating sparkle and glitter, and said:

"Uncle, your bounty is large and your present is beautiful; but there is something that poor Capitola values more than----"

She paused, dropped her head upon her bosom, a sudden blush flamed up over her face, and tear-drops glittered in her downcast eyes. She put both hands before her burning face for a moment, and then, dropping them, resumed:

"Uncle, you rescued me from misery and, perhaps--perhaps, early death; you have heaped benefits and bounties upon me without measure; you have placed me in a home of abundance, honor and security. For all this if I were not grateful I should deserve no less than death. But, uncle, there is a sin that is worse, at least, more ungenerous, than ingrat.i.tude; it is to put a helpless fellow-creature under heavy obligations and then treat that grateful creature with undeserved contempt and cruel unkindness." Once more her voice was choked with feeling.

For some reason or other Capitola's tears--perhaps because they were so rare--always moved Old Hurricane to his heart's center. Going toward her softly, he said:

"Now, my dear; now, my child; now, my little Cap, you know it was all for your own good. Why, my dear, I never for one instant regretted bringing you to the house, and I wouldn't part with you for a kingdom.

Come, now, my child; come to the heart of your old uncle."

Now, the soul of Capitola naturally abhorred sentiment. If ever she gave way to serious emotion, she was sure to avenge herself by being more capricious than before. Consequently, flinging herself out of the caressing arms of Old Hurricane, she exclaimed:

"Uncle, I won't be treated with both kicks and half-pennies by the same person, and so I tell you. I am not a cur to be fed with roast beef and beaten with a stick, nor--nor--nor a Turk's slave to be caressed and oppressed as her master likes. Such abuse as you heaped upon me I never heard--no, not even in Rag Alley!"

"Oh, my dear! my dear! my dear! for heaven's sake forget Rag Alley?"

"I won't! I vow I'll go back to Rag Alley for a very little more.

Freedom and peace is even sweeter than wealth and honors."

"Ah, but I won't let you, my little Cap."

"Then I'd have you up before the nearest magistrate, to show by what right you detained me. Ah, ha! I wasn't brought up in New York for nothing."

"Whee-eu! and all this because, for her own good, I gave my own niece and ward a little gentle admonition."

"Gentle admonition! Do you call that gentle admonition? Why, uncle, you are enough to frighten most people to death with your fury. You are a perfect dragon! a griffin! a Russian bear! a Bengal tiger! a Numidian lion! You're all Barnum's beasts in one! I declare, if I don't write and ask him to send a party down here to catch you for his museum! You'd draw, I tell you!"

"Yes, especially with you for a keeper to stir me up once in a while with a long pole."

"And that I'd engage to do--cheap."

The entrance of Mrs. Condiment with the tea-tray put an end to the controversy. It was, as yet, a drawn battle.

"And what about the watch, my little Cap?"

"Take it back, uncle, if you please."

"But they won't have it back; it has got your initials engraved upon it.

Look here," said the old man, holding the watch to her eyes. "'C. L.

N.'--those are not my initials," said Capitola, looking up with surprise.

"Why, so they are not; the blamed fools have made a mistake. But you'll have to take it, Cap."

"No, uncle; keep it for the present," said Capitola, who was too honest to take a gift that she felt she did not deserve, and yet too proud to confess as much.

Peace was proclaimed--for the present.

Alas! 'twas but of short continuance. During these two days of coolness and enforced quietude Old Hurricane had gathered a store of bad humors that required expenditure.

So the very next day something went wrong upon the farm, and Old Hurricane came storming home, driving his overseer, poor, old, meek Billy Ezy, and his man Wool before him.