d the knocker with both hands and exerting all her
strength, made the welkin ring again!

This brought a response. The door was unlocked and angrily jerked open
by a short, squarely formed, beetle-browed, stern-looking woman,
clothed in a black stuff gown and having a stiff muslin cap upon her
head.

"Who are you? What do you want here?" harshly demanded this woman, whom
Capitola instinctively recognized as Dorkey Knight, the morose
housekeeper of the Hidden House.

"Who am I? What do I want? Old Nick fly away with you! It's plain
enough to be seen who I am and what I want. I am a young woman caught
out in the storm and I want shelter!" said Cap, indignantly. And her
words were endorsed by a terrific burst of the tempest in lightning,
thunder, wind and rain!

"Come in then and when you ask favors learn to keep a civil tongue in
your head!" said the woman sternly, taking the guest by the hand and
pulling her in and shutting and locking the door.

"Favors! Plague on you for a bearess! I asked no favor! Every
storm-beaten traveler has a right to shelter under the first roof that
offers, and none but a curmudgeon would think of calling it a favor!
And as for keeping a civil tongue in my head, I'll do it when you set
me the example!" said Cap.

"Who are you?" again demanded the woman.

"Oh, I see you are no Arabian in your notions of hospitality! Those
pagans entertain a guest without asking him a single question; and
though he were their bitterest foe, they consider him while he rests
beneath their tent sacred from intrusion."

"That's because they were pagans!" said Dorkey. "But as I am a
Christian, I'd thank you to let me know who it is that I have received
under this roof."

"My name," said our heroine, impatiently, "is Capitola Black! I live
with my uncle, Major Warfield, at Hurricane Hall! And now, I should
thank your ladyship to send some one to put away my horse, while you
yourself accommodate me with dry clothes."

While our saucy little heroine spoke the whole aspect of the
dark-browed woman changed.

"Capitola--Capitola," she muttered, gazing earnestly upon the face of
the unwelcome guest.

"Yes, Capitola! That is my name! You never heard anything against it,
did you?"

For all answer the woman seized her hand, and while the lightning
flashed and the thunder rolled, and the wind and rain beat down, she
drew her the whole length of the hall before a back window that
overlooked the neglected garde