Out of this nettle, danger,

I'll pluck the flower, safety!

Shakespeare

Capitola's blood seemed turned to ice, and her form to stone by the

sight! Her first impulse was to scream and let fall the waiter! She

controlled herself and repressed the scream though she was very near

dropping the waiter.

Black Donald looked at her and laughed aloud at her consternation,

saying with a chuckle: "You did not expect to see me here to-night, did you now, my dear?"

She gazed at him in a silent panic for a moment.

Then her faculties, that had been suddenly dispersed by the shock, as

suddenly rallied to her rescue.

In one moment she understood her real position.

Black Donald had locked her in with himself and held the key--so she

could not hope to get out.

The loudest scream that she might utter would never reach the distant

chamber of Major Warfield, or the still more remote apartment of Mrs.

Condiment; so she could not hope to bring any one to her assistance.

She was, therefore, entirely in the power of Black Donald. She fully

comprehended this, and said to herself: "Now, my dear Cap, if you don't look sharp your hour is come! Nothing

on earth will save you, Cap, but your own wits! For if ever I saw

mischief in any one's face, it is in that fellow's that is eating you

up with his great eyes at the same time that he is laughing at you with

his big mouth! Now, Cap, my little man, be a woman! Don't you stick at

trifles! Think of Jael and Sisera! Think of Judith and Holofernes! And

the devil and Doctor Faust, if necessary, and don't you blanch! All

stratagems are fair in love and war--especially in war, and most

especially in such a war as this is likely to be--a contest in close

quarters for dear life!"

All this passed through her mind in one moment, and in the next her

plan was formed.

Setting her waiter down upon the table and throwing herself into one of

the armchairs, she said: "Well, upon my word! I think a gentleman might let a lady know when he

means to pay her a domiciliary visit at midnight!"

"Upon my word, I think you are very cool!" replied Black Donald,

throwing himself into the second armchair on the other side of the

stand of refreshments.

"People are likely to be cool on a December night, with the thermometer

at zero, and the ground three feet under the snow," said Cap, nothing

daunted.




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