nanted rooms, and into another passage, and finally through a side
door leading into Capitola's chamber.

Here he looked around for a safe hiding-place--there was a high
bedstead curtained; two deep windows also curtained; two closets, a
dressing bureau, workstand, washstand and two arm chairs. The
forethought of little Pitapat had caused her to kindle a fire on the
hearth and place a waiter of refreshments on the workstand, so as to
make all comfortable before she had left with the other negroes to go
to the banjo break-down.

Among the edibles Pitapat had been careful to leave a small bottle of
brandy, a pitcher of cream, a few eggs and some spice, saying to
herself, "Long as it was Christmas time Miss Caterpillar might want a
sup of egg-nog quiet to herself, jes' as much as old marse did his
whiskey punch"--and never fancying that her young mistress would
require a more delicate lunch than her old master.

Black Donald laughed as he saw this outlay, and remarking that the
young occupant of the chamber must have an appetite of her own, he put
the neck of the brandy bottle to his lips and took what he called "a
heavy swig."

Then vowing that old Hurricane knew what good liquor was, he replaced
the bottle and looked around to find the best place for his
concealment.

He soon determined to hide himself behind the thick folds of the window
curtain, nearest the door, so that immediately after the entrance of
Capitola he could glide to the door, lock it, withdraw the key and have
the girl at once in his power.

He took a second "swig" at the brandy bottle and then went into his
place of concealment to wait events.

That same hour Capitola was her uncle's partner in a prolonged game of
chess. It was near eleven o'clock before Cap, heartily tired of the
battle, permitted herself to be beaten in order to get to bed.

With a satisfied chuckle, Old Hurricane arose from his seat, lighted
two bed-chamber lamps, gave one to Capitola, took the other himself,
and started off for his room, followed by Cap as far as the head of the
first flight of stairs, where she bade him good night.

She waited until she saw him enter his room, heard him lock his door on
the inside and throw himself down heavily into his arm chair, and then
she went on her own way.

She hurried up the second flight of stairs and along the narrow
passages, empty rooms, and steep steps and dreary halls, until she
reached the door of her own dormitory.