He took a second "swig" at the brandy bottle and then went into his
place of concealment to wait events.
That same hour Capitola was her uncle's partner in a prolonged game of
chess. It was near eleven o'clock before Cap, heartily tired of the
battle, permitted herself to be beaten in order to get to bed.
With a satisfied chuckle, Old Hurricane arose from his seat, lighted
two bed-chamber lamps, gave one to Capitola, took the other himself,
and started off for his room, followed by Cap as far as the head of the
first flight of stairs, where she bade him good night.
She waited until she saw him enter his room, heard him lock his door on
the inside and throw himself down heavily into his arm chair, and then
she went on her own way.
She hurried up the second flight of stairs and along the narrow
passages, empty rooms, and steep steps and dreary halls, until she
reached the door of her own dormitory.
She turned the latch and entered the room.
The first thing that met her sight was the waiter of provisions upon
the stand. And at this fresh instance of her little maid's forethought,
she burst into a uncontrollable fit of laughter.
She did not see a dark figure glide from behind the window curtains,
steal to the door, turn the lock and withdraw the key!
But still retaining her prejudice against the presence of food in her
bed-chamber, she lifted up the waiter in both hands to carry it out
into the passage, turned and stood face to face with--Black Donald!