"Oh, Miss, I daren't stay here—indeed I daren't!"
"Then you'll have to come along with me, and so no more about it," said Capitola, sharply, as she passed out from the door. The poor little maid followed, bemoaning the fate that bound her to so capricious a mistress.
Capitola drew the key from the hall door and locked it on the outside. Then clasping her hands and raising her eyes to heaven, she fervently ejaculated:
"Thank God—oh, thank God that we are safe!"
"Lors, miss, was we in danger?"
"We are not now at any rate, Pitapat! Come along!" said Capitola, hurrying across the lawn toward the open fields.
"Oh, my goodness, miss, where is yer-a-goin' of? Don't less us run so fur from home dis lonesome, wicked, onlawful hour o' de night!" whimpered the distressed little darkey, fearing that her mistress was certainly crazed.
"Now, then, what are you afraid of?" asked Capitola, seeing her hold back.
"Lors, miss, you knows—eberybody knows—Brack Dunnel!"
"Patty, come close—listen to me—don't scream—Black Donald and his men are up there at the house—in my chamber, under the bed," whispered Capitola.