"Dear Capitola! I am so glad to come to see you!"
"Dear Herbert, just fancy you have said that a hundred times over and that I have replied to the same words a hundred times—for we haven't a moment to spare," said Capitola, shaking his hands, and then, in an eager, vehement manner, recounting her discovery and escape from the robbers whom she had locked up in the house.
"Go, now," she said, in conclusion, "and help Mr. Ezy to rouse up and arm the farm hands and come immediately to the house! I am in agony lest my prolonged absence should excite the robbers' suspicion of my ruse, and that they should break out and perhaps murder poor Mrs. Condiment. Her situation is awful, if she did but know it! For the love of mercy, hasten!"
Not an instant more of time was lost. Mr. Ezy and Herbert Greyson, accompanied by Capitola and Patty, hurried at once to the negro quarters, roused up and armed the men with whatever was at hand, and, enjoining them to be as stealthy as cats in their approach, set out swiftly for the Hall, where they soon arrived.
"Take off all your shoes and walk lightly in your stocking feet—do not speak—do not breathe—follow me as silent as death," said Herbert Greyson, as he softly unlocked the front door and entered the house.
Silently and stealthily they passed through the middle hall, up the broad staircase, and through the long, narrow passages and steep stairs that led to Capitola's remote chamber.
There at the door they paused awhile to listen.
All was still within.
Herbert Greyson unlocked the door, withdrew the key, and opened it and entered the room, followed by all the men. He had scarcely time to close the door and lock it on the inside, and withdraw the key, before the robbers, finding themselves surprised, burst out from their hiding place and made a rush for the passage; but their means of escape had been already cut off by the forethought of Herbert Greyson.
A sharp conflict ensued.