CAP'S RAGE.
Is he not approved to the height of a villain, who hath slandered,
scorned, dishonored thy kinswoman. Oh! that I were a man for his
sake, or had a friend who would be one for mine!
--Shakespeare.
Autumn brought the usual city visitors to Hurricane Hall to spend the
sporting season and shoot over Major Warfield's grounds. Old Hurricane
was in his glory, giving dinners and projecting hunts.
Capitola also enjoyed herself rarely, enacting with much satisfaction
to herself and guests her new role of hostess, and not unfrequently
joining her uncle and his friends in their field sports.
Among the guests there were two who deserve particular attention, not
only because they had been for many years annual visitors of Hurricane
Hall, but more especially because there had grown up between them and
our little madcap heroine a strong mutual confidence and friendship.
Yet no three persons could possibly be more unlike than Capitola and
the two cousins of her soul, as she called these two friends. They were
both distant relatives of Major Warfield, and in right of this
relationship invariably addressed Capitola as "Cousin Cap."
John Stone, the elder of the two, was a very tall, stout, squarely
built young man, with a broad, good-humored face, fair skin, blue eyes
and light hair. In temperament he was rather phlegmatic, quiet and
lazy. In character he was honest, prudent and good-tempered. In
circumstances he was a safe banker, with a notable wife and two healthy
children. The one thing that was able to excite his quiet nerves was
the chase, of which he was as fond as he could possibly be of any
amusement. The one person who agreeably stirred his rather still
spirits was our little Cap, and that was the secret of his friendship
for her.
Edwin Percy, the other, was a young West Indian, tall and delicately
formed, with a clear olive complexion, languishing dark hazel eyes and
dark, bright chestnut hair and beard. In temperament he was ardent as
his clime. In character, indolent, careless and self-indulgent. In
condition he was the bachelor heir of a sugar plantation of a thousand
acres. He loved not the chase, nor any other amusement requiring
exertion. He doted upon swansdown sofas with springs, French plays,
cigars and chocolate. He came to the country to find repose, good air
and an appetite. He was the victim of constitutional ennui that yielded
to nothing but the exhilaration of Capitola's company; that was the
mystery of his love for her, and doubtless the young Creole would have
proposed for Cap, had he not thought it too much trouble to get
married, and dreaded the bustle of a bridal. Certainly Edwin Percy was
as opposite in character to John Stone, as they both were to Capitola,
yet great was the relative attraction among the three. Cap impartially
divided her kind offices as hostess between them.
John Stone joined Old Hurricane in many a hard day's hunt, and Capitola
was often of the party.
Edwin Percy spent many hours on the luxurious lounge in the parlor,
where Cap was careful to place a stand with chocolate, cigars, wax
matches and his favorite books.
One day Cap had had what she called "a row with the governor," that is
to say, a slight misunderstanding with Major Warfield; a very uncommon
occurrence, as the reader knows, in which that temperate old gentleman
had so freely bestowed upon his niece the names of "beggar, foundling,
brat, vagabond and vagrant," that Capitola, in just indignation,
refused to join the birding party, and taking her game bag, powder
flask, shot-horn and fowling piece, and calling her favorite pointer,
walked off, as she termed it, "to shoot herself." But if Capitola's by
no means sweet temper had been tried that morning, it was destined to
be still more severely tested before the day was over.
Her second provocation came in this way: John Stone, another deserter
of the birding party had that day betaken himself to Tip-top upon some
private business of his own. He dined at the Antlers in company with
some sporting gentlemen of the neighborhood, and when the conversation
naturally turned upon field sports, Mr. John Stone spoke of the fine
shooting that was to be had around Hurricane Hall, when one of the
gentlemen, looking straight across the table to Mr. Stone, said:
"Ahem! That pretty little huntress of Hurricane Hall--that niece or
ward, or mysterious daughter of Old Hurricane, who engages with so much
enthusiasm in your field sports over there, is a girl of very free and
easy manners I understand--a Diana in nothing but her love of the
chase!"
"Sir, it is a base calumny! And the man who endorses it is a shameless
slanderer! There is my card! I may be found at my present residence,
Hurricane Hall," said John Stone, throwing his pasteboard across the
table, and rising to leave it.
"Nay, nay," said the stranger, laughing and pushing the card away. "I
do not endorse the statement--I know nothing about it! I wash my hands
of it," said the young man. And then upon Mr. Stone's demanding the
author of the calumny, he gave the name of Mr. Craven Le Noir, who, he
said, had "talked in his cups," at a dinner party recently given by one
of his friends.
"I pronounce--publicly, in the presence of all these witnesses, as I
shall presently to Craven Le Noir himself--that he is a shameless
miscreant, who has basely slandered a noble girl! You, sir, have
declined to endorse those words; henceforth decline to repeat them! For
after this I shall call to a severe account any man who ventures, by
word, gesture or glance to hint this slander, or in any other way deal
lightly with the honorable name and fame of the lady in question.
Gentlemen, I am to be found at Hurricane Hall, and I have the honor of
wishing you a more improving subject of conversation, and--a very good
afternoon," said John Stone, bowing and leaving the room.
He immediately called for his horse and rode home.
In crossing the thicket of woods between the river and the rising
ground in front of Hurricane Hall, he overtook Capitola, who, as we
have said, had been out alone with her gun and dog, and was now
returning home with her game bag well laden.
Now, as John Stone looked at Capitola, with her reckless, free and
joyous air, he thought she was just the sort of girl, unconsciously, to
get herself and friends into trouble. And he thought it best to give
her a hint to put an abrupt period to her acquaintance, if she had even
the slightest, with the heir apparent of the Hidden House.
While still hesitating how to begin the conversation, he came up with
the young girl, dismounted, and, leading his horse, walked by her side,
asking carelessly:
"What have you bagged, Cap?"
"Some partridges! Oh, you should have been out with me and Sweetlips!
We've had such sport! But, anyhow, you shall enjoy your share of the
spoils! Come home and you shall have some of these partridges broiled
for supper, with currant sauce--a dish of my own invention for uncle's
sake, you know! He's such a gourmand!"
"Thank you, yes--I am on my way home now. Hem--m! Capitola, I counsel
you to cut the acquaintance of our neighbor, Craven Le Noir."
"I have already done so; but--what in the world is the matter that you
should advise me thus?" inquired Capitola, fixing her eyes steadily
upon the face of John Stone, who avoided her gaze as he answered:
"The man is not a proper associate for a young woman."
"I know that, and have cut him accordingly; but, Cousin John, there is
some reason for your words, that you have not expressed; and as they
concern me, now I insist upon knowing what they are!"
"Tut! it is nothing!" said the other evasively.
"John Stone, I know better! And the more you look down and whip your
boot the surer I am that there is something I ought to know, and I will
know!"
"Well, you termagant! Have your way! He has been speaking lightly of
you--that's all! Nobody minds him--his tongue is no scandal."
"John Stone--what has he said?" asked Capitola, drawing her breath
hardly between her closed teeth.
"Oh, now, why should you ask? It is nothing--it is not proper that I
should tell you," replied that gentleman, in embarrassment.
"'It is nothing,' and yet 'it is not proper that you should tell me!'
How do you make that out? John Stone, leave off lashing the harmless
bushes and listen to me! I have to live in the same neighborhood with
this man, after you have gone away, and I insist upon knowing the whole
length and breadth of his baseness and malignity, that I may know how
to judge and punish him!" said Capitola, with such grimness of
resolution that Mr. Stone, provoked at her perversity, answered:
"Well, you wilful girl, listen!" And commencing, he mercilessly told
her all that had passed at the table.
To have seen our Cap then! Face, neck and bosom were flushed with the
crimson tide of indignation!
"You are sure of what you tell me, Cousin John?"
"The man vouches for it!"
"He shall bite the dust!"
"What?"
"The slanderer shall bite the dust!"
Without more ado, down was thrown gun, game bag, powder flask and
shot-horn, and, bounding from point to point over all the intervening
space, Capitola rushed into Hurricane Hall, and without an instant's
delay ran straight into the parlor, where her epicurean friend, the
young Creole, lay slumbering upon the lounge.
With her face now livid with concentrated rage, and her eyes glittering
with that suppressed light peculiar to intense passion, she stood
before him and said:
"Edwin! Craven Le Noir has defamed your cousin! Get up and challenge
him!"
"What did you say, Cap?" said Mr. Percy, slightly yawning.
"Must I repeat it? Craven Le Noir has defamed my character--challenge
him!"
"That would be against the law, coz; they would indict me sure!"
"You--you--you lie there and answer me in that way! Oh that I were a
man!"
"Compose yourself, sweet coz, and tell me what all this is about!
Yaw-ooo!--really I was asleep when you first spoke to me!"
"Asleep! Had you been dead and in your grave, the words that I spoke
should have roused you like the trump of the archangel!" exclaimed
Capitola, with the blood rushing back to her cheeks.
"Your entrance was sufficiently startling, coz, but tell me over
again--what was the occasion?"
"That caitiff, Craven Le Noir, has slandered me! Oh, the villain! He is
a base slanderer! Percy, get up this moment and challenge Le Noir! I
cannot breathe freely until it is done!" exclaimed Capitola,
impetuously.
"Cousin Cap, duelling is obsolete; scenes are passe; law settles
everything; and here there is scarcely ground for action for libel. But
be comforted, coz, for if this comes to Uncle Hurricane's ears, he'll
make mince-meat of him in no time. It is all in his line; he'll chaw
him right up!"
"Percy, do you mean to say that you will not call out that man?" asked
Capitola, drawing her breath hardly.
"Yes, coz."
"You won't fight him?"
"No, coz."
"You won't?"
"No."
"Edwin Percy, look me straight in the face!" said Cap, between her
closed teeth.
"Well, I am looking you straight in the face--straight in the two
blazing gray eyes, you little tempest in a teapot--what then?"
"Do I look as though I should be in earnest in what I am about to
speak?"
"I should judge so."
"Then listen, and don't take your eyes off mine until I am done
speaking!"
"Very well, don't be long, though, for it rather agitates me."
"I will not! Hear me, then! You say that you decline to challenge Le
Noir. Very good! I, on my part, here renounce all acquaintance with
you! I will never sit down at the same table--enter the same room, or
breathe the same air with you--never speak to you--listen to you, or
recognize you in any manner, until my deep wrongs are avenged in the
punishment of my slanderer, so help me----"
"Hush-sh! don't swear, Cap--it's profane and unwomanly; and nothing on
earth but broken oaths would be the result!"
But Cap was off! In an instant she was down in the yard, where her
groom was holding her horse, ready in case she wished to take her usual
ride.
"Where is Mr. John Stone?" she asked.
"Down at the kennels, miss," answered the boy.
She jumped into her saddle, put whip to her horse and flew over the
ground between the mansion house and the kennels.
She pulled up before the door of the main building, sprang from her
saddle, threw the bridle to a man in attendance, and rushed into the
house and into the presence of Mr. John Stone, who was busy in
prescribing for an indisposed pointer.
He looked up in astonishment, exclaiming:
"Hilloe! All the witches! Here's Cap! Why, where on earth did you shoot
from? What's up now? You look as if you were in a state of spontaneous
combustion and couldn't stand it another minute."
"And I can't--and I won't! John Stone, you must call that man out!"
"What man, Cap--what the deuce do you mean?"
"You know well enough--you do this to provoke me! I mean the man of
whom you cautioned me this afternoon--the wretch who slandered me--the
niece of your host!"
"Whe--ew!"
"Will you do it?"
"Where's Percy?"
"On the lounge with an ice in one hand and a novel in the other! I
suppose it is no use mincing the matter, John--he is a--mere
epicure--there is no fight in him! It is you who must vindicate your
cousin's honor!"
"My cousin's honor cannot need vindication! It is unquestioned and
unquestionable!"
"No smooth words, if you please, cousin John! Will you, or will you not
fight that man?"
"Tut, Cap, no one really questions your honor--that man will get
himself knocked into a cocked hat if he goes around talking of an
honest girl!"
"A likely thing, when her own cousins and guests take it so quietly."
"What would you have them do, Cap? The longer an affair of this sort is
agitated, the more offensive it becomes! Besides, chivalry is out of
date! The knights-errant are all dead."
"The men are all dead! If any ever really lived!" cried Cap, in a fury.
"Heaven knows I am inclined to believe them to have been a fabulous
race like that of the mastodon or the centaur! I certainly never saw a
creature that deserved the name of man! The very first of your race was
the meanest fellow that ever was heard of--ate the stolen apple and
when found out laid one half of the blame on his wife and the other
on his Maker--'The woman whom thou gavest me' did so and so--pah! I
don't wonder the Lord took a dislike to the race and sent a flood to
sweep them all off the face of the earth! I will give you one more
chance to retrieve your honor--in one word, now--will you fight that
man?"
"My dear little cousin, I would do anything in reason to vindicate the
assailed manhood of my whole sex, but really, now----"
"Will you fight that man? One word--yes, or no?"
"Tut, Cap! you are a very reckless young woman! You--it's your
nature--you are an incorrigible madcap! You bewitch a poor wretch until
he doesn't know his head from his heels--puts his feet into his hat and
covers his scalp with his boots! You are a will-o'-the-wisp who lures a
poor fellow on through woods, bogs and briars, until you land him in
the quicksands! You whirl him around and around until he grows dizzy
and delirious, and talks at random, and then you'd have him called out,
you blood-thirsty little vixen! I tell you, Cousin Cap, if I were to
take up all the quarrels your hoydenism might lead me into, I should
have nothing else to do!"
"Then you won't fight!"
"Can't, little cousin! I have a wife and family, which are powerful
checks upon a man's duelling impulses!"
"Silence! You are no cousin of mine--no drop of your sluggish blood
stagnates in my veins--no spark of the liquid fire of my life's current
burns in your torpid arteries, else at this insult would it set you in
a flame! Never dare to call me cousin again." And so saying, she flung
herself out of the building and into her saddle, put whip to her horse
and galloped away home.
Now, Mr. Stone had privately resolved to thrash Craven Le Noir; but he
did not deem it expedient to take Cap into his confidence. As Capitola
reached the horse-block, her own groom came to take the bridle.
"Jem," she said, as she jumped from her saddle, "put Gyp up and then
come to my room, I have a message to send by you."
And then, with burning cheeks and flashing eyes, she went to her own
sanctum, and after taking off her habit, did the most astounding thing
that ever a woman of the nineteenth or any former century attempted--she
wrote a challenge to Craven Le Noir--charging him with falsehood in
having maligned her honor--demanding from him "the satisfaction of a
gentleman," and requesting him as the challenged party to name the
time, place and weapons with which he would meet her.
By the time she had written, sealed and directed this war-like
defiance, her young groom made his appearance.
"Jem," she asked, "do you know the way to the Hidden House?"
"Yes, miss, sure."
"Then take this note thither, ask for Mr. Le Noir, put it into his
hands, and say that you are directed to wait an answer. And listen! You
need not mention to any one in this house where you are going--nor when
you return, where you have been; but bring the answer you may get
directly to this room, where you will find me."
"Yes, miss," said the boy, who was off like a flying Mercury.
Capitola threw herself into her chair to spend the slow hours until the
boy's return as well as her fierce impatience and forced inaction would
permit.
At tea time she was summoned; but excused herself from going below upon
the plea of indisposition.
"Which is perfectly true," she said to herself, "since I am utterly
indisposed to go. And besides, I have sworn never again to sit at the
same table with my cousins, until for the wrongs done me I have
received ample satisfaction."