A PANIC IN THE OUTLAW'S DEN.
Imagination frames events unknown,
In wild, fantastic shapes of hideous ruin,
And what it fears creates!
--Hannah More.
Dark doubt and fear, o'er other spirits lower,
But touch not his, who every waking hour,
Has one fixed hope and always feels its power.
--Crabbe.
Upon the very same night, that the three robbers were surprised and
captured by the presence of mind of Capitola at Hurricane Hall, Black
Donald, disguised as a negro, was lurking in the woods around the
mansion, waiting for the coming of his three men with their prize.
But as hour after hour passed and they came not, the desperado began
heartily to curse their sloth--for to no other cause was he enabled to
attribute the delay, as he knew the house, the destined scene of the
outrage, to be deserted by all for the night, except by the three
helpless females.
As night waned and morning began to dawn in the east, the chief grew
seriously uneasy at the prolonged absence of his agents--a circumstance
that he could only account for upon the absurd hypothesis that those
stupid brutes had suffered themselves to be overtaken by sleep in their
ambuscade.
While he was cursing their inefficiency, and regretting that he had not
himself made one of the party, he wandered in his restlessness to
another part of the woods, and the opposite side of the house.
He had not been long here before his attention was arrested by the
tramping of approaching horsemen. He withdrew into the shade of the
thicket and listened while the travelers went by.
The party proved to consist of Old Hurricane, Herbert Greyson and the
Sheriff's officers, on their way from the town to Hurricane Hall to take
the captured burglars into custody. And Black Donald, by listening
attentively, gathered enough from their conversation to know that his
men had been discovered and captured by the heroism of Capitola.
"That girl again!" muttered Black Donald, to himself. "She is doomed to
be my destruction, or I hers! Our fates are evidently connected! Poor
Steve! Poor Dick! Poor Hal! Little did I think that your devotion to
your captain would carry you into the very jaws of death--pshaw! hang
it! Let boys and women whine! I must act!"
And with this resolution Black Donald dogged the path of the horsemen
until he had reached that part of the woods skirting the road opposite
the park gate. Here he hid himself in the bushes to watch events. Soon
from his hiding place he saw the wagon approach, containing the three
men, heavily ironed and escorted by a strong guard of county constables
and plantation negroes, all well armed, and under the command of the
Sheriff and Herbert Greyson.
"Ha, ha, ha! They must dread an attempt on our part of rescue, or they
never would think of putting such a formidable guard over three wounded
and handcuffed men!" laughed Black Donald to himself.
"Courage, my boys," he muttered. "Your chief will free you from prison
or share your captivity! I wish I could trumpet that into your ears at
this moment, but prudence, 'the better part of valor,' forbids! For the
same words that would encourage you would warn your captors into greater
vigilance." And so saying Black Donald let the procession pass, and then
made tracks for his retreat.
It was broad daylight when he reached the Old Inn. The robbers, worn out
with waiting and watching for the captain and his men with the fair
prize, had thrown themselves down upon the kitchen floor, and now lay in
every sort of awkward attitude, stretched out or doubled up in heavy
sleep. The old beldame had disappeared--doubtless she had long since
sought her night lair.
Taking a poker from the corner of the fireplace, Black Donald went
around among the sleeping robbers and stirred them up, with vigorous
punches in the ribs and cries of:
"Wake up!--dolts! brutes! blockheads! Wake up! You rest on a volcano
about to break out! You sleep over a mine about to be exploded! Wake
up!--sluggards that you are! Your town is taken! Your castle is stormed!
The enemy is at your throats with drawn swords! Ah, brutes, will you
wake, then, or shall I have to lay it on harder?"
"What the demon?"
"How now?"
"What's this?" were some of the ejaculations of the men as they slowly
and sulkily roused themselves from their heavy slumber.
"The house is on fire! The ship's sinking! The cars have run off the
track! The boiler's burst, and the devil's to pay!" cried Black Donald,
accompanying his words with vigorous punches of the poker into the ribs
of the recumbent men.
"What the foul fiend ails you, captain? Have you got the girl and drunk
too much liquor on your wedding night?" asked one of the men.
"No, Mac, I have not got the girl! On the contrary, the girl, blame her,
has got three of my best men in custody! In one word, Hal, Dick and
Steve are safely lodged in the county jail!"
"What?"
"Perdition!"
"My eye!"
"Here's a go!" were the simultaneous exclamations of the men as they
sprang upon their feet.
"In the fiend's name, captain, tell us all about it!" said Mac,
anxiously.
"I have no time to talk much, nor you to tarry long! It was all along of
that blamed witch, Capitola!" said Black Donald, who then gave a rapid
account of the adventure, and the manner in which Capitola entrapped and
captured the burglars, together with the way in which he himself came by
the information.
"I declare, one can't help liking that girl! I should admire her even if
she should put a rope about my neck!" said Mac.
"She's a brick!" said another, with emphasis.
"She's some pumpkins, now, I tell you!" assented a third.
"I am more than ever resolved to get her into my possession! But in the
mean time, lads, we must evacuate the Old Inn! It is getting too hot to
hold us!"
"Aye, captain!"
"Aye, lads, listen! We must talk fast and act promptly; the poor fellows
up there in jail are game, I know! They would not willingly peach, but
they are badly wounded. If one of them should have to die, and be
blessed with a psalm-singing parson to attend him, no knowing what he
may be persuaded to confess! Therefore, let us quickly decide upon some
new rendezvous that will be unsuspected, even by our poor caged birds!
If any of you have any place in your eye, speak!"
"We would rather hear what you have to say, captain," said Mac; and all
the rest assented.
"Well, then, you all know the Devil's Punch Bowl!"
"Aye, do we, captain!"
"Well, what you do not know--what nobody knows but myself is this--that
about half-way down that awful chasm, in the side of the rock, is a
hole, concealed by a clump of evergreens; that hole is the entrance to a
cavern of enormous extent! Let that be our next rendezvous! And now,
avaunt! Fly! Scatter! and meet me in the cavern to-night, at the usual
hour! Listen--carry away all our arms, ammunition, disguises and
provisions--so that no vestige of our presence may be left behind. As
for dummy, if they can make her speak, the cutting out of her tongue was
lost labor--vanish!"
"But our pals in prison!" said Mac.
"They shall be my care. We must lie low for a few days, so as to put the
authorities off their guard. Then if our pals recover from their wounds,
and have proved game against Church and State, I shall know what
measures to take for their deliverance! No more talk now--prepare for
your flitting and fly!"
The captain's orders were obeyed, and within two hours from that time no
vestige of the robbers' presence remained in the deserted Old Inn.
If any Sheriff's officer had come there with a search-warrant, he would
have found nothing suspicious; he would have seen only a poor old dumb
woman, busy at her spinning wheel; and if he had questioned her would
only have got smiles and shakes of the head for an answer, or the
exhibitions of coarse country gloves and stockings of her own knitting,
which she would, in dumb-show, beg him to purchase.
Days and weeks passed and the three imprisoned burglars languished in
jail, each in a separate cell.
Bitterly each in his heart complained of the leader that had,
apparently, deserted them in their direst need. And if neither betrayed
him it was probably because they could not do so without deeply
criminating themselves, and for no better motive.
There is said to be "honor among thieves." It is, on the face of it,
untrue; there can be neither honor, confidence nor safety among men
whose profession is crime. The burglars, therefore, had no confidence in
their leader, and secretly and bitterly reproached him for his desertion
of them.
Meanwhile the annual camp meeting season approached. It was rumored that
a camp meeting would be held in the wooded vale below Tip-Top, and soon
this report was confirmed by announcements in all the county papers. And
all who intended to take part in the religious festival or have a tent
on the ground began to prepare provisions--cooking meat and poultry,
baking bread, cakes, pies, etc. And preachers from all parts of the
country were flocking in to the village to be on the spot for the
commencement.
Mrs. Condiment, though a member of another church, loved in her soul the
religious excitement--"the warming up," as she called it, to be had at
the camp meeting! But never in the whole course of her life had she
taken part in one, except so far as riding to the preaching in the
morning and returning home in the evening.
But Capitola, who was as usual in the interval between her adventures,
bored half to death with the monotony of her life at Hurricane Hall--and
praying not against but wishing for--fire, floods or thieves, or
anything to stir her stagnant blood, heard of the camp meeting, and
expressed a wish to have a tent on the camp ground and remain there from
the beginning to the end, to see all that was to be seen; hear all that
was to be heard; feel all that was to be felt, and learn all that was to
be known!
And as Capitola, ever since her victory over the burglars, had been the
queen regnant of Hurricane Hall, she had only to express this wish to
have it carried into immediate effect.
Old Hurricane himself went up to Tip-Top and purchased the canvas and
set two men to work under his own immediate direction to make the tent.
And as Major Warfield's campaigning experience was very valuable here,
it turned out that the Hurricane Hall tent was the largest and best on
the camp ground. As soon as it was set up under the shade of a grove of
oak trees a wagon from Hurricane Hall conveyed to the spot the simple
and necessary furniture, cooking materials and provisions. And the same
morning the family carriage, driven by Wool, brought out Major Warfield,
Mrs. Condiment, Capitola and her little maid Patty.
The large tent was divided into two compartments--one for Major Warfield
and his man Wool--the other for Mrs. Condiment, Capitola and Patty.
As the family party stepped out of the carriage, the novelty, freshness
and beauty of the scene called forth a simultaneous burst of admiration.
The little snow-white tents were dotted here and there through the
woods, in beautiful contrast with the greenness of the foliage, groups
of well-dressed and cheerful-looking men, women and children were
walking about; over all smiled a morning sky of cloudless splendor. The
preachings and the prayer meetings had not yet commenced. Indeed, many
of the brethren were hard at work in an extensive clearing, setting up a
rude pulpit, and arranging rough benches to accommodate the women and
children of the camp congregation.
Our party went into their tent, delighted with the novelty of the whole
thing, though Old Hurricane declared that it was nothing new to his
experience, but reminded him strongly of his campaigning days.
Wool assented, saying that the only difference was, there were no ladies
in the old military camp.
I have neither time nor space to give a full account of this camp
meeting. The services commenced the same evening. There were preachers
of more or less fervor, of piety and eloquence of utterance. Old
Christians had their "first love" revived; young ones found their zeal
kindled, and sinners were awakened to a sense of their sin and danger.
Every Christian there said the season had been a good one!
In the height of the religious enthusiasm there appeared a new preacher
in the field. He seemed a man considerably past middle age and broken
down with sickness or sorrow. His figure was tall, thin and stooping;
his hair white as snow, his face pale and emaciated; his movements slow
and feeble, and his voice low and unsteady! He wore a solemn suit of
black, that made his thin form seem of skeleton proportions; a
snow-white neck-cloth, and a pair of great round iron-rimmed spectacles,
that added nothing to his good looks.
Yet this old, sickly and feeble man seemed one of fervent piety and of
burning eloquence. Every one sought his society; and when it was known
that Father Gray was to hold forth, the whole camp congregation turned
out to hear him.
It must not be supposed that in the midst of this great revival those
poor "sinners above all sinners," the burglars imprisoned in the
neighboring town, were forgotten! no, they were remembered, prayed for,
visited and exhorted. And no one took more interest in the fate of these
men than good Mrs. Condiment, who, having seen them all on that great
night at Hurricane Hall, and having with her own kind hands plastered
their heads and given them possets, could not drive out of her heart a
certain compassion for their miseries.
No one, either, admired Father Gray more than did the little old
housekeeper of Hurricane Hall, and as her table and her accommodations
were the best on the camp ground, she often invited and pressed good
Father Gray to rest and refresh himself in her tent. And the old man,
though a severe ascetic, yielded to her repeated solicitations, until at
length he seemed to live there altogether.
One day Mrs. Condiment, being seriously exercised upon the subject of
the imprisoned men, said to Father Gray, who was reposing himself in the
tent:
"Father Gray, I wished to speak to you, sir, upon the subject of those
poor wretched men who are to be tried for their lives at the next term
of the Criminal Court. Our ministers have all been to see them, and
talked to them, but not one of the number can make the least impression
on them, or bring them to any sense of their awful condition!"
"Ah, that is dreadful!" sighed the aged man.
"Yes, dreadful, Father Gray! Now I thought if you would only visit them
you could surely bring them to reason!"
"My dear friend, I would willingly do so, but I must confess to you a
weakness--a great weakness of the flesh--I have a natural shrinking from
men of blood! I know it is sinful, but indeed I cannot overcome it."
"But, my dear Father Gray, a man of your experience knows full well that
if you cannot overcome that feeling you should act in direct opposition
to it! And, I assure you, there is no danger! Why, even I should not be
at all afraid of a robber when he is double-ironed and locked up in a
cell, and I should enter guarded by a pair of turnkeys!"
"I know it, my dear lady, I know it, and I feel that I ought to overcome
this weakness or do my duty in its despite."
"Yes, and if you would consent to go, Father Gray, I would not mind
going with you myself, if that would encourage you any!"
"Of course it would, my dear friend; and if you will go with me, and if
the brethren think that I could do any good I will certainly endeavor to
conquer my repugnance and visit these imprisoned men."
It was arranged that Father Gray, accompanied by Mrs. Condiment, should
go to the jail upon the following morning; and, accordingly, they set
out immediately after breakfast. A short ride up the mountain brought
them to Tip-Top, in the center of which stood the jail. It was a simple
structure of gray stone, containing within its own walls the apartments
occupied by the warden. To these Mrs. Condiment, who was the leader in
the whole matter, first presented herself, introducing Father Gray as
one of the preachers of the camp meeting, a very pious man, and very
effective in his manner of dealing with hardened offenders.
"I have heard of the Rev. Mr. Gray and his powerful exhortations," said
the warden, with a low bow; "and I hope he may be able to make some
impression on these obdurate men and induce them, if possible, to 'make
a clean breast of it,' and give up the retreat of their band. Each of
them has been offered a free pardon on condition of turning State's
evidence and each has refused."
"Indeed! have they done so, case-hardened creatures?" mildly inquired
Father Gray.
"Aye, have they; but you, dear sir, may be able to persuade them to do
so."
"I shall endeavor! I shall endeavor!" said the mild old man.
The warden then requested the visitors to follow him and led the way
up-stairs to the cells.
"I understand that the criminals are confined separately?" said Mr. Gray
to the warden.
"No, sir; they were so confined at first, for better security, but as
they have been very quiet, and as since those rowdies that disturbed the
camp meeting have been sent to prison and filled up our cells, we have
had to put those three robbers into one cell."
"I'm afraid I--" began the minister, hesitating.
"Father Gray is nervous, good Mr. Jailor; I hope there's no danger from
these dreadful men--all of them together--for I promised Father Gray
that he should be safe, myself," said Mrs. Condiment.
"Oh, ma'am, undoubtedly; they are double-ironed," said the warden, as he
unlocked a door and admitted the visitors, into rather a darkish cell,
in which were the three prisoners.
Steve the mulatto was stretched upon the floor in a deep sleep.
Hal was sitting on the side of the cot, twiddling his fingers.
Dick sat crouched up in a corner, with his head against the wall.
"Peace be with you, my poor souls," said the mild old man, as he entered
the cell.
"You go to the demon!" said Dick, with a hideous scowl.
"Nay, my poor man, I came in the hope of saving you from that enemy of
souls!"
"Here's another! There's three comes reg'lar! Here's the fourth! Go it,
old fellow! We're gettin' used to it! It's gettin' to be entertainin'!
It's the only diversion we have in this blamed hole," said Hal.
"Nay, friend, if you use profane language, I cannot stay to hear it,"
said the old man.
"Yaw-aw-aw-ow!" yawned Steve, half rising and stretching himself.
"What's the row? I was just dreaming our captain had come to deliver
us--yow-aw-aw-ooh! It's only another parson!" and with that Steve turned
himself over and settled to sleep.
"My dear Mr. Jailer, do you think that these men are safe--for if you
do, I think we had better leave excellent Mr. Gray to talk to them
alone--he can do them so much more good if he has them all to himself,"
said Mrs. Condiment, who was, in spite of all her previous boasting,
beginning to quail and tremble under the hideous glare of Demon Dick's
eyes.
"N-no! n-no! n-no!" faltered the preacher, nervously taking hold of the
coat of the warden.
"You go along out of this the whole of you! I'm not a wild beast in a
cage to be stared at!" growled Demon Dick with a baleful glare that sent
Mrs. Condiment and the preacher, shuddering to the cell door.
"Mr. Gray, I do assure you, sir, there is no danger! The men are
double-ironed, and, malignant as they may be, they can do you no harm.
And if you would stay and talk to them you might persuade them to
confession and do the community much service," said the warden.
"I--I--I'm no coward, but--but--but--" faltered the old man, tremblingly
approaching the prisoners.
"I understand you, sir. You are in bad health, which makes you nervous."
"Yes--yes. Heaven forgive me, but if you, Mr. Jailer, and the good lady
here will keep within call, in case of accidents, I don't mind if I do
remain and exhort these men, for a short time," said the old man.
"Of course we will. Come, Mrs. Condiment, mum! There's a good bench in
the lobby and I'll send for my old woman and we three can have a good
talk while the worthy Mr. Gray is speaking to the prisoners," said the
warden, conducting the housekeeper from the cell.
As soon as they had gone the old man went to the door and peeped after
them, and having seen that they went to the extremity of the lobby to a
seat under an open window, he turned back to the cell, and, going up to
Hal, said in a low, voice:
"Now, then, is it possible that you do not know me?"
Hal stopped twiddling his fingers and looked up at the tall, thin,
stooping figure, the gray hair, the white eyebrows and the pale face,
and said gruffly:
"No! May the demon fly away with me if I ever saw you before!"
"Nor you, Dick?" inquired the old man, in a mild voice, turning to the
one addressed.
"No, burn you, nor want to see you now!"
"Steve! Steve!" said the old man, in a pitiful voice, waking the sleeper.
"Don't you know me, either?"
"Don't bother me," said that worthy, giving himself another turn and
another settle to sleep.
"Dolts! blockheads! brutes! Do you know me now?" growled the visitor,
changing his voice.
"Our captain!"
"Our captain!"
"Our captain!" they simultaneously cried.
"Hush! sink your souls! Do you want to bring the warden upon us?"
growled Black Donald, for it was unquestionably him in a new
metamorphosis.
"Then all I have to say, captain, is that you have left us here a blamed
long time!"
"And exposed to sore temptation to peach on me! Couldn't help it, lads!
Couldn't help it! I waited until I could do something to the purpose!"
"Now, may Satan roast me alive if I know what you have done to turn
yourself into an old man! Burn my soul, if I should know you now,
captain, if it wa'n't for your voice," grumbled Steve.
"Listen, then, you ungrateful, suspicious wretches! I did for you what
no captain ever did for his men before! I had exhausted all manner of
disguises, so that the authorities would almost have looked for me in an
old woman's gown! See, then, what I did! I put myself on a month's
regimen of vegetable diet, and kept myself in a cavern until I grew as
pale and thin as a hermit! Then I shaved off my hair, beard, mustaches
and eyebrows! Yes, blame you, I sacrificed all my beauty to your
interests! Fate helps those who help themselves! The camp meeting
gathering together hosts of people and preachers gave me the opportunity
of appearing without exciting inquiry. I put on a gray wig, a black
suit, assumed a feeble voice, stooping gait and a devout manner,
and--became a popular preacher at the camp meeting."
"Captain, you're a brick! You are indeed! I do not flatter you!" said
Hal. It was a sentiment in which all agreed.
"I had no need of further machination!" continued the captain; "they
actually gave me the game! I was urged to visit you here--forced to
remain alone and talk with you!" laughed Black Donald.
"And now, captain, my jewel, my treasure, my sweetheart--that I love
with 'a love passing the love of woman'--how is your reverence going to
get us out?"
"Listen!" said the captain, diving into his pockets, "you must get
yourselves out! This prison is by no means strongly fastened or well
guarded! Here are files to file off your fetters! Here are tools to pick
the locks, and here are three loaded revolvers to use against any of the
turnkey who might discover and attempt to stop you! To-night, however,
is the last of the camp meeting, and the two turnkeys are among my
hearers! I shall keep them all night! Now you know what to do! I must
leave you! Dick, try to make an assault on me that I may scream, but
first conceal your tools and arms!"
Hal hid the instruments and Dick, with an awful roar, sprang at the
visitor, who ran to the grating crying:
"Help--help!"
The warden came hurrying to the spot.
"Take 'im out o' this, then!" muttered Dick, sulkily getting back into
his corner.
"Oh, what a wretch!" said Mrs. Condiment.
"I shall be glad when he's once hanged!" said the jailer.
"I--I--fear that I can do them but little good, and--and I would rather
not come again, being sickly and nervous," faltered Father Gray.
"No, my dear good sir! I for one shall not ask you to risk your precious
health for such a set of wretches! They are Satan's own! You shall come
home to our tent and lie down to rest, and I will make you an egg-caudle
that will set you up again," said Mrs. Condiment, tenderly, as the whole
party left the cell.
That day the outrageous conduct of the imprisoned burglars was the
subject of conversation, even dividing the interest of the religious
excitement.
But the next morning the whole community was thrown into a state of
consternation by the discovery that the burglars had broken jail and
fled, and that the notorious outlaw Black Donald had been in their very
midst, disguised as an elderly field preacher.