negroes running down the hill were
still making eve hideous with yells of "Black Donald!" and Capitola
still clinging and hanging on at the back of his neck, continued to cry,
"I've caught him! help! help!" something like the truth flashed in a
blinding way upon Old Hurricane's perceptions.

Roaring forth something between a recognition and a defiance, the old
man threw up his fat arms, and as fast as age and obesity would permit,
ran up the hill to intercept the outlaw.

There was no time for trifling now! The army of negroes was at his
heels; the old veteran in his path; the girl clinging a dead weight to
his jacket behind. An idea suddenly struck him which he wondered had not
done so before--quickly unbuttoning and throwing off his garment he
dropped both jacket and captor behind him on the ground.

And before Capitola had picked herself up, Black Donald, bending his
huge head and shoulders forward and making a battering ram of himself,
ran with all his force and butted Old Hurricane in the stomach, pitching
him into the horse pond, leaped over the park fence and disappeared in
the forest.

What a scene! what a row followed the escape and flight of the famous
outlaw!

Who could imagine, far less describe it!--a general tempest in which
every individual was a particular storm!

There stood the baffled Capitola, extricating her head from the
pea-jacket, and with her eyes fairly flashing out sparks of anger,
exclaiming, "Oh, wretches! wretches that you are! If you'd been worth
salt you could have caught him while I clung to him so!"

There wallowed Old Hurricane, spluttering, floundering, half drowning,
in the horse pond, making the most frantic efforts to curse and swear as
he struggled to get out.

There stood the crowd of negroes brought to a sudden stand by a panic of
horror at seeing the dignity of their master so outraged!

And, most frenzied of all, there ran Wool around and around the margin
of the pond, in a state of violent perplexity how to get his master out
without half drowning himself!

"Blurr-urr-rr! flitch! flitch! Blurr!-ur!" spluttered and sneezed and
strangled, Old Hurricane, as he floundered to the edge of the
pond--"Burr-urr-rr! Help me out, you scoundrel! I'll break every bone in
your--flitch! body! Do you hear me--ca-snish!--villain you! flitch!
flitch! ca-snish! oh-h!"

Wool with his eyes starting from his head and his hair standing up with
terrors of all sorts, plunged at last int