le
of the hall. With the agile leap of a little terrier she sprang up
behind him, seized the thick collar of his pea-jacket with both hands,
and, drawing up her feet, hung there with all her weight, crying:

"Help! murder! murder! help! Come to my aid! I've caught Black Donald!"

He could have killed her instantly in any one of a dozen ways. He could
have driven in her temples with a blow of his sledge-hammer fist; he
could have broken her neck with the grip of his iron fingers; he only
wished to shake her off without hurting her--a difficult task, for there
she hung, a dead weight, at the collar of his coat at the back of his
neck.

"Oh, very well!" he cried, laughing aloud! "Such adhesiveness I never
saw! You stick to me like a wife to her husband. So if you won't let go,
I shall have to take you along, that's all! So here I go like Christian
with his bundle of sin on his back!"

And loosing the upper button of his pea-jacket so as to give him more
breath, and, putting down his peddler's pack to relieve himself as much
as possible, the outlaw strode through the hall door, down the steps,
and down the evergreen avenue leading to the woods.

Capitola still clinging to the back of his coat-collar, with feet drawn
up, a dead weight, and still crying:

"Help! Murder! I've caught Black Donald, and I'll die before I'll let
him go!"

"You're determined to be an outlaw's bride, that's certain! Well, I've
no particular objection!" cried Black Donald, roaring with laughter as
he strode on.

It was a "thing to see, not hear"--that brave, rash, resolute imp
clinging like a terrier, or a crab, or a briar, on to the back of that
gigantic ruffian, whom, if she had no strength to stop, she was
determined not to release.

They had nearly reached the foot of the descent, when a great noise and
hallooing was heard behind them. It was the negroes, who, having
recovered from their panic, and armed themselves with guns, pistols,
swords, pokers, tongs and pitchforks, were now in hot pursuit!

And cries of "Black Donald! Black Donald! Black Donald!" filled the air.

"I've got him! I've got him! help! help! quick! quick!" screamed
Capitola, clinging closer than ever.

Though still roaring with laughter at the absurdity of his position,
Black Donald strode on faster than before, and was in a fair way of
escape, when lo! suddenly coming up the path in front of him, he
met--Old Hurricane!!!

As the troop of miscellaneously armed