CAPITOLA CAPS THE CLIMAX.
Oh! when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd;
She was a vixen when she went to school;
And though she is but little she is fierce.
--Shakespeare.
It was quite late in the evening when Jem, her messenger, returned.
"Have you an answer?" she impetuously demanded, rising to meet him as
he entered.
"Yes, miss, here it is," replied the boy, handing a neatly folded,
highly perfumed little note.
"Go," said Cap, curtly, as she received it.
And when the boy had bowed and withdrawn, she threw herself into a
chair, and with little respect for the pretty device of the pierced
heart with which the note was sealed, she tore it open and devoured its
contents.
Why did Capitola's cheeks and lips blanch white as death? Why did her
eyes contract and glitter like stilettoes? Why was her breath drawn
hard and laboriously through clenched teeth and livid lips?
That note was couched in the most insulting terms.
Capitola's first impulse was to rend the paper to atoms and grind those
atoms to powder beneath her heel. But a second inspiration changed her
purpose.
"No--no--no! I will not destroy you, precious little note! No legal
document involving the ownership of the largest estate, no cherished
love letter filled with vows of undying affection, shall be more
carefully guarded! Next to my heart shall you lie. My shield and
buckler shall you be! My sure defense and justification! I know what to
do with you, my precious little jewel! You are the warrant for the
punishment of that man, signed by his own hand." And so saying Capitola
carefully deposited the note in her bosom.
Then she lighted her chamber lamp, and, taking it with her, went
down-stairs to her uncle's bedroom.
Taking advantage of the time when she knew he would be absorbed in a
game of chess with John Stone, and she should be safe from interruption
for several hours if she wished, she went to Major Warfield's little
armory in the closet adjoining his room, opened his pistol case and
took from it a pair of revolvers, closed and locked the case, and
withdrew and hid the key that they might not chance to be missed until
she should have time to replace them.
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,
burst 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.