Hurricane, attended by Wool, walked down to his kennels and his
stables to look after the well-being of his favorite hounds and horses.
It was while going through this interesting investigation that Major
Warfield was informed--principally by overhearing the gossip of the
grooms with Wool--of the appearance of a new inmate of the Hidden
House--a young girl, who, according to their description, must have
been the very pearl of beauty.

Old Hurricane pricked up his ears! Anything relating to the "Hidden
House" possessed immense interest for him.

"Who is she, John?" he inquired of the groom.

"Deed I dunno, sir, only they say she's a bootiful young creature, fair
as any lily, and dressed in deep mourning."

"Humph! humph! humph! another victim! Ten thousand chances to one,
another victim! who told you this, John?"

"Why, Marse, you see Tom Griffith, the Rev. Mr. Goodwill's man, he's
very thick long of Davy Hughs, Colonel Le Noir's coachman. And Davy he
told Tom how one day last month his marse ordered the carriage, and
went two or three days' journey up the country beyant Staunton, there
he stayed a week and then came home, fetching along with him in the
carriage this lovely young lady, who was dressed in the deepest
mourning, and wept all the way. They 'spects how she's an orphan, and
has lost all her friends, by the way she takes on."

"Another victim! My life on it--another victim! Poor child! She had
better be dead than in the power of that atrocious villain and
consummate hypocrite!" said Old Hurricane, passing on to the
examination of his favorite horses, one of which, the swiftest in the
stud, he found galled on the shoulders. Whereupon he flew into a
towering passion, abusing his unfortunate groom by every opprobrious
epithet blind fury could suggest, ordering him, as he valued whole
bones, to vacate the stable instantly, and never dare to set foot on
his premises again as he valued his life, an order which the man meekly
accepted and immediately disobeyed, muttered to himself:

"Humph! If we took ole marse at his word, there'd never be man or 'oman
left on the 'state," knowing full well that his tempestuous old master
would probably forget all about it, as soon as he got comfortably
seated at the supper table of Hurricane Hall, toward which the old man
now trotted off.

Not a word did Major Warfield say at supper in regard to the new inmate
of the Hidden House, for he had particular reasons for keeping