y tale!

Something of what was passing in her mind was perceived by Old
Hurricane, who frequently burst into uproarious fits of laughter as he
watched her.

At last, when the dinner and the dessert were removed, and the nuts,
raisins and wine placed upon the table, and the waiters had retired from
the room and left them alone, sitting one on each side of the fire, with
the table and its luxuries between them, Major Warfield suddenly looked
up and asked:

"Capitola, whom do you think that I am?"

"Old Hurricane, to be sure. I knew you from Granny's description, the
moment you broke out so in the police office," answered Cap.

"Humph! Yes, you're right; and it was your Granny that bequeathed you to
me, Capitola."

"Then she is really dead?"

"Yes. There--don't cry about her. She was very old, and she died happy.
Now, Capitola, if you please me I mean to adopt you as my own daughter."

"Yes, father."

"No, no; you needn't call me father, you know, because it isn't true.
Call me uncle, uncle, uncle."

"Is that true, sir?" asked Cap, demurely.

"No, no, no; but it will do, it will do. Now, Cap, how much do you know?
Anything? Ignorant as a horse, I am afraid."

"Yes, sir; even as a colt."

"Can you read at all?"

"Yes, sir; I learned to read at Sunday-school."

"Cast accounts and write?"

"I can keep your books at a pinch, sir."

"Humph! Who taught you these accomplishments?"

"Herbert Greyson, sir."

"Herbert Greyson! I've heard that name before; here it is again. Who is
that Herbert Greyson?"

"He's second mate on the Susan, sir, that is expected in every day."

"Umph! umph! Take a glass of wine, Capitola."

"No, sir; I never touch a single drop."

"Why? Why? Good wine after dinner, my child, is a good thing, let me
tell you."

"Ah, sir, my life has shown me too much misery that has come of drinking
wine."

"Well, well, as you please. Why, where has the girl run off to!"
exclaimed the old man, breaking off, and looking with amazement at
Capitola, who had suddenly started up and rushed out of the room.

In an instant she rushed in again, exclaiming:

"Oh, he's come! he's come! I heard his voice!"

"Whose come, you madcap?" inquired the old man.

"Oh, Herbert Greyson! Herbert Greyson! His ship is in, and he has come
here! He always comes here--most of the sea officers do," exclaimed Cap,
dancing around until all her black ringlets flew up and down. Then
suddenly pausing, she came quiet