Capitolas Peril - Page 139/218

"An old cellar, as I have told you long ago, and Black Donald, as you

have just told me. Hilloe there! Are you killed, as you deserve to be,

you atrocious villain?" roared Old Hurricane, stooping down into the

opening.

A feeble distant moan answered him.

"Oh, heaven! He is living! He is living! I have not killed him!" cried

Capitola, clasping her hands.

"Why, I do believe you are glad of it!" exclaimed Old Hurricane, in

astonishment.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes! For it was a fearful thought that I had been

compelled to take a sacred life! to send an immortal soul unprepared to

its account!"

"Well! his neck isn't broken, it appears, or he couldn't groan; but I

hope and trust every other bone in his body is! Mrs. Condiment, mum!

I'll trouble you to put on your bonnet and walk to Ezy's and tell him

to come here directly! I must send for the constable," said Old

Hurricane, going to the door and speaking to his housekeeper, who, with

an appalled countenance had been a silent spectator of all that had

passed.

As soon as the old woman had gone to do her errand he turned again, and

stooping down the hole, exclaimed: "I say, you scoundrel down there! What do you think of yourself now?

Are you much hurt, you knave? Is every one of your bones broken, as

they deserve to be, you villain? Answer me, you varlet!"

A low, deep moan was the only response.

"If that means yes, I'm glad to hear it, you wretch. You'll go to the

camp-meeting with us again, won't you, you knave? You'll preach against

evil passions and profane swearing, looking right straight at me all

the time, until you bring the eyes of the whole congregation upon me as

a sinner above all sinners, you scoundrel? You'll turn me out of my own

bed and away from my own board, won't you, you villain? Won't you,

precious Father Grey? Oh, we'll Father Grey you! Demmy, the next time a

trap-door falls under you, you rascal, there shall be a rope around

your neck to keep you from the ground, precious Father Grey!"

"Uncle! Uncle! that is cowardly!" exclaimed Capitola.

"What is cowardly, Miss Impertinence?"

"To insult and abuse a fallen man who is in your power! The poor man is

badly hurt, may be dying, for aught you know, and you stand over him

and berate him when he cannot even answer you!"

"Umph, umph, umph; demmy, you're--umph, well, he is fallen, fallen

pretty badly, eh? and if he should come round after this, the next fall

he gets will be likely to break his neck, eh?--I say, you gentleman

below there--Mr. Black Donald--precious Father Grey--you'll keep quiet,

won't you, while we go and get our breakfast? do, now! Come, Cap, come

down and pour out my coffee, and by the time we get through, Old Ezy

will be here."