"Black Donald was in my room last night. He stole from his concealment and locked the door on the inside and withdrew the key, thus locking me in with himself, and—" She ceased and struck both hands to her face, shuddering from head to foot.
"Go on, girl!" thundered Old Hurricane, in an agony of anxiety.
"I escaped harmless—oh, I did, sir—but at what a fearful price!"
"Explain! Explain!" cried Old Hurricane, in breathless agitation.
"I drew him to sit upon the chair on the rug, and"—again she shuddered from head to foot, "and I sprang the trap and precipitated him to—oh, heaven of heavens!—where? I know not!"
"But you—you were unharmed?"
"Yes—yes!"
"Oh, Cap! Oh, my dear Cap! Thank heaven for that!"
"But, uncle, where—oh, where did he go?" inquired Capitola, almost wildly.
"Who the demon cares? To perdition. I hope and trust, with all my heart and soul!" cried Old Hurricane, with emphasis, as he approached and looked down the opening.