The next time Cap met Craven and saw again that deep, sorrowful,

appealing gaze as he bowed and passed her, she glanced after him,

saying to herself: "Poor soul, I wonder what he means by looking at me in that piteous

manner? I can do nothing to relieve him. I'm sure if I could I would.

But 'the way of the transgressor is hard,' Mr. Le Noir, and he who sins

must suffer."

For about three weeks their seemingly accidental meetings continued in

this silent manner, so slowly did Craven make his advances. Then,

feeling more confidence, he made a considerably long step forward.

One day, when he guessed that Capitola would be out, instead of meeting

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her as heretofore, he put himself in her road and, riding slowly toward

a five-barred gate, allowed her to overtake him.

He opened the gate and, bowing, held it open until she had passed.

She bowed her thanks and rode on; but presently, without the least

appearance of intruding, since she had overtaken him, he was at her

side and, speaking with downcast eyes and deferential manner, he said: "I have long desired an opportunity to express the deep sorrow and

mortification I feel for having been hurried into rudeness toward an

estimable young lady at the Forest Chapel. Miss Black, will you permit

me now to assure you of my profound repentance of that act and to

implore your pardon?"

"Oh, I have nothing against you, Mr. Le Noir. It was not I whom you

were intending to marry against my will; and as for what you said and

did to me, ha! ha! I had provoked it, you know, and I also afterwards

paid it in kind. It was a fair fight, in which I was the victor, and

victors should never be vindictive," said Cap, laughing, for, though

knowing him to have been violent and unjust, she did not suspect him of

being treacherous and deceitful, or imagine the base designs concealed

beneath his plausible manner. Her brave, honest nature could understand

a brute or a despot, but not a traitor.

"Then, like frank enemies who have fought their fight out, yet bear no

malice toward each other, we may shake hands and be friends, I hope,"

said Craven, replying in the same spirit in which she had spoken.

"Well, I don't know about that, Mr. Le Noir. Friendship is a very

sacred thing, and its name should not be lightly taken on our tongues.

I hope you will excuse me if I decline your proffer," said Cap, who had

a well of deep, true, earnest feeling beneath her effervescent surface.




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