And, in fact, between his master and his mistress, Wool had a hot time of it. The weather, after the storm had cleared the atmosphere, was delightful, and Cap rode out that very day. Poor Wool kept his eyeballs metaphorically "skinned," for fear they should be treated literally so—held his eyes wide open, lest Old Hurricane should keep his word and make it impossible for him ever to shut them.
When Cap stole out, mounted her horse and rode away, in five minutes from the moment of starting she heard a horse's hoofs behind her, and presently saw Wool gallop to her side.
At first Cap bore this good-humoredly enough, only saying:
"Go home, Wool, I don't want you; I had much rather ride alone."
To which the groom replied:
"It is old marse's orders, miss, as I should wait on you."
Capitola's spirit rebelled against this; and, suddenly turning upon her attendant, she indignantly exclaimed:
"Wool, I don't want you, sir; I insist upon being left alone, and I order you to go home, sir!"
Upon this Wool burst into tears and roared.
Much surprised, Capitola inquired of him what the matter was.