CAP "RESTS ON HER LAURELS" AND "SPOILS FOR A FIGHT."
'Tis hardly in a body's power,
To keep at times frae being sour,
To see how things are shared;
How best o' chiels are whiles in want,
While coofs on countless thousands rant,
And ken na how to wear 't.
--Burns.
Leaving Clara Day and Marah Rocke in a home of safety, plenty and
kindness, in the old doctor's house, we must run down to Hurricane Hall
to see what mischief Cap has been getting into since we left her! In
truth, none! Cap had had such a surfeit of adventures that she was fain
to lie by and rest upon her laurels. Besides, there seemed just now
nothing to do--no tyrants to take down, no robbers to capture, no
distressed damsels to deliver, and Cap was again in danger of "spoiling
for a fight." And then Herbert Greyson was at the Hall--Herbert Greyson
whom she vowed always did make a Miss Nancy of her! And so Cap had to
content herself for a week with quiet mornings of needlework at her
workstand, with Herbert to read to or talk with her; sober afternoon
rides, attended by Herbert and Old Hurricane; and hum-drum evenings at
the chess board, with the same Herbert, while Major Warfield dozed in a
great "sleepy hollow" of an armchair.
One afternoon when they were out riding through the woods beyond the
Demon's Run, a Sheriff's officer rode up, and bowing to the party,
presented a suspicious-looking document to Capitola and a similar one
to Herbert Greyson. And while Old Hurricane stared his eyes half out,
the parties most interested opened the papers, which they found to be
rather pressing invitations to be present at a certain solemnity at
Staunton. In a word, they were subpoenaed to give testimony in the
case of Williams vs. Le Noir.
"Here's a diabolical dilemma!" said Old Hurricane to himself, as soon
as he learned the purport of these documents.
"Here I shall have to bring Cap into court face to face with that demon
to bear witness against him! Suppose losing one ward, he should lay
claim to another! Ah, but he can't, without foully criminating himself!
Well, well, we shall see!"
While Old Hurricane was cogitating Cap was exulting.
"Oh, won't I tell all I know! Yes, and more, too!" she exclaimed, in
triumph.
"'More, too!' Oh, hoity-toity! Never say more, too!" said Herbert
laughing.
"I will, for I'll tell all I suspect!" said Cap, galloping on ahead, in
her eagerness to get home and pack up for her journey.
The next day Old Hurricane, Herbert Greyson, Capitola, Pitapat and Wool
went by stage to Staunton. They put up at the Planters' and Farmers'
Hotel, whence Herbert Greyson and Capitola soon sallied forth to see
Clara and Mrs. Rocke. They soon found the doctor's house, and were
ushered into the parlor in the presence of their friends.
The meeting between Capitola and Clara and between Mrs. Rocke and
Herbert was very cordial. And then Herbert introduced Capitola to Mrs.
Rocke and Cap presented Herbert to Clara. And they all entered into
conversation upon the subject of the coming lawsuit, and the
circumstances that led to it. And Clara and Capitola related to each
other all that had happened to each after their exchanging clothes and
parting. And when they had laughed over their mutual adventures and
misadventures, Herbert and Capitola took leave and returned to their
hotel.
Herbert Greyson was the most serious of the whole family. Upon reaching
the hotel he went to his own room and fell into deep reflection. And
this was the course of his thought:
"Ira Warfield and Marah Rocke are here in the same town--brought hither
upon the same errand--to-morrow to meet in the same court-room! And yet
not either of them suspects the presence of the other! Mrs. Rocke does
not know that in Capitola's uncle she will behold Major Warfield! He
does not foresee that in Clara's matronly friend he will behold Marah
Rocke! And Le Noir, the cause of all their misery, will be present
also! What will be the effect of this unexpected meeting? Ought I not
to warn one or the other? Let me think--no! For were I to warn Major
Warfield he would absent himself. Should I drop a hint to Marah she
would shrink from the meeting! No, I will leave it all to
Providence--perhaps the sight of her sweet, pale face and soft,
appealing eyes, so full of constancy and truth, may touch that stern
old heart! Heaven grant it may!" concluded Herbert Greyson.
The next day the suit came on.
At an early hour Doctor Williams appeared, having in charge Clara Day,
who was attended by her friend Mrs. Rocke. They were accommodated with
seats immediately in front of the judge.
Very soon afterward Major Warfield, Herbert Greyson and Capitola
entered, and took their places on the witness's bench, at the right
side of the court-room.
Herbert watched Old Hurricane, whose eyes were spellbound to the bench
where sat Mrs. Rocke and Clara. Both were dressed in deep mourning,
with their veils down and their faces toward the judge. But Herbert
dreaded every instant that Marah Rocke should turn her head and meet
that fixed, wistful look of Old Hurricane. And he wondered what strange
instinct it could be that riveted the old man's regards to that
unrecognized woman.
At last, to Herbert's great uneasiness, Major Warfield turned and
commenced questioning him:
"Who is that woman in mourning?"
"Hem--m--that one with the flaxen curls under her bonnet is Miss Day."
"I don't mean the girl, I mean the woman sitting by her?"
"That is--hem--hem--that is Doctor Williams sitting----"
Old Hurricane turned abruptly around and favored his nephew with a
severe, scrutinizing gaze, demanding:
"Herbert, have you been drinking so early in the morning? Demmy, sir,
this is not the season for mint juleps before breakfast! Is that great,
stout, round-bodied, red-faced old Doctor Williams a little woman? I
see him sitting on the right of Miss Day. I didn't refer to him! I
referred to that still, quiet little woman sitting on her left, who has
never stirred hand or foot since she sat down there. Who is she?"
"That woman? Oh, she?--yes--ah, let me see--she is a--Miss Day's
companion!" faltered Herbert.
"To the demon with you! Who does not see that? But who is she? What is
her name?" abruptly demanded Old Hurricane.
"Her name is a--a--did you ever see her before, sir?"
"I don't know! That is what I am trying to remember; but, sir, will you
answer my question?"
"You seem very much interested in her."
"You seem very much determined not to let me know who she is! Hang it,
sir, will you or will you not tell me that woman's name?"
"Certainly," said Herbert. "Her name is----" He was about to say Marah
Rocke, but moral indignation overpowered him and he paused.
"Well, well, her name is what?" impatiently demanded Old Hurricane.
"Mrs. Warfield!" answered Herbert, doggedly.
And just at that unfortunate moment Marah turned her pale face and
beseeching eyes around and met the full gaze of her husband!
In an instant her face blanched to marble and her head sank upon the
railing before her bench. Old Hurricane was too dark to grow pale, but
his bronzed cheek turned as gray as his hair, which fairly lifted
itself on his head. Grasping his walking stick with both his hands, he
tottered to his feet, and, muttering:
"I'll murder you for this, Herbert!" he strode out of the court-room.
Marah's head rested for about a minute on the railing before her and
when she lifted it again her face was as calm and patient as before.
This little incident had passed without attracting attention from any
one except Capitola, who, sitting on the other side of Herbert Greyson,
had heard the little passage of words between him and her uncle, and
had seen the latter start up and go out, and who now, turning to her
companion, inquired:
"What is the meaning of all this, Herbert?"
"It means--Satan! And now attend to what is going on! Mr. Sauter has
stated the case, and now Stringfellow, the attorney for the other side,
is just telling the judge that he stands there in the place of his
client, Lieutenant-Colonel Le Noir, who, being ordered to join General
Taylor in Mexico, is upon the eve of setting out and cannot be here in
person!"
"And is that true? Won't he be here?"
"It seems not. I think he is ashamed to appear after what has happened,
and just takes advantage of a fair excuse to absent himself."
"And is he really going to Mexico?"
"Oh, yes! I saw it officially announced in this morning's papers. And,
by the bye, I am very much afraid he is to take command of our
regiment, and be my superior officer!"
"Oh, Herbert, I hope and pray not! I think there is wickedness enough
packed up in that man's body to sink a squadron or lose an army!"
"Well, Cap, such things will happen. Attention! There's Sauter, ready
to call his witnesses!" And, in truth, the next moment Capitola Black
was called to the stand.
Cap took her place and gave her evidence con amore, and with such vim
and such expressions of indignation, that Stringfellow reminded her she
was there to give testimony, and not to plead the cause.
Cap rejoined that she was perfectly willing to do both! And so she
continued not only to tell the acts, but to express her opinions as to
the motives of Le Noir, and give her judgment as to what should be the
decision of the court.
Stringfellow, the attorney for Colonel Le Noir, evidently thought that
in this rash, reckless, spirited witness he had a fine subject for
sarcastic cross-examination! But he reckoned "without his host." He did
not know Cap! He, too, "caught a Tartar." And before the
cross-examination was concluded, Capitola's apt and cutting replies had
overwhelmed him with ridicule and confusion, and done more for the
cause of her friend than all her partisans put together!
Other witnesses were called to corroborate the testimony of Capitola,
and still others were examined to prove the last expressed wishes of
the late William Day, in regard to the disposal of his daughter's
person during the period of her minority.
There was no effective rebutting evidence, and after some hard arguing
by the attorneys on both sides, the case was closed, and the judge
deferred his decision until the third day thereafter.
The parties then left the court and returned to their several lodgings.
Old Hurricane gave no one a civil word that day. Wool was an atrocious
villain, an incendiary scoundrel, a cut-throat, and a black demon. Cap
was a beggar, a vagabond and a vixen. Herbert Greyson was another
beggar, besides being a knave, a fop and an impudent puppy. The
innkeeper was a swindler, the waiters thieves, the whole world was
going to ruin, where it well deserved to go, and all mankind to the
demon--as he hoped and trusted they would!
And all this tornado of passion and invective arose just because he had
unexpectedly met in the court-room the patient face and beseeching eyes
of a woman, married and forsaken, loved and lost, long ago!
Was it strange that Herbert, who had so resented his treatment of Marah
Rocke, should bear all his fury, injustice and abuse of himself and
others with such compassionate forbearance? But he not only forbore to
resent his own affronts, but also besought Capitola to have patience
with the old man's temper and apologized to the host by saying that
Major Warfield had been very severely tried that day, and when calmer
would be the first to regret the violence of his own words.
Marah Rocke returned with Clara to the old doctor's house. She was more
patient, silent and quiet than before. Her face was a little paler, her
eyes softer, and her tones lower--that was the only visible effect of
the morning's unexpected rencounter.
The next day but one all the parties concerned assembled at the
court-house to hear the decision of the judge. It was given, as had
been anticipated, in favor of Clara Day, who was permitted, in
accordance with her father's approved wishes, to reside in her
patrimonial home under the care of Mrs. Rocke. Colonel Le Noir was to
remain trustee of the property, with directions from the court
immediately to pay the legacies left by the late Doctor Day to Marah
Rocke and Traverse Rocke, and also to pay to Clara Day, in quarterly
instalments, from the revenue of her property, an annual sum of money
sufficient for her support.
This decision filled the hearts of Clara and her friends with joy.
Forgetting time, and place, she threw herself into the arms of Marah
Rocke and wept with delight. All concerned in the trial then sought
their lodgings.
Clara and Mrs. Rocke returned to the cottage to make preparations for
removing to Willow Heights.
Doctor Williams went to the agent of the property to require him to
give up the keys, which he did without hesitation.
Old Hurricane and his party packed up to be ready for the stage to take
them to Tip-Top the next day.
But that night a series of mysterious events were said to have taken
place at the deserted house at Willow Heights that filled the whole
community with superstitious wonder. It was reported by numbers of
gardeners and farmers, who passed that road, on their way to early
market, that a perfect witches' sabbath had been held in that empty
house all night; that lights had appeared, flitting from room to room;
that strange, weird faces had looked out from the windows; and wild
screams had pierced the air!
The next day when this report reached the ears of Clara, and she was
asked by Doctor Williams whether she would not be afraid to live there,
she laughed gaily and bade him try her.
Cap, who had come over to take leave of Clara, joined her in her
merriment, declared that she, for her part, doted on ghosts, and that
after Herbert Greyson's departure she should come and visit Clara and
help her to entertain the specters.
Clara replied that she should hold her to her promise. And so the
friends kissed and separated.
That same day saw several removals.
Clara and Mrs. Rocke took up their abode at Willow Heights and seized
an hour even of that busy time to write to Traverse and apprise him of
their good fortune.
Old Hurricane and his party set out for their home, where they arrived
before nightfall.
And the next day but one Herbert Greyson took leave of his friends and
departed to join his company on their road to glory.