Capitola complied, and they left the room together.
The overseer came in while they were at breakfast, and with his hair
standing on end, listened to the account of the capture of the outlaw
by our heroine.
"And now saddle Fleetfoot and ride for your life to Tip-Top and bring a
pair of constables," were the last orders of Old Hurricane.
While Mr. Ezy was gone on his errand, Major Warfield, Capitola and Mrs.
Condiment remained below stairs.
It was several hours before the messenger returned with the constables,
and with several neighbors whom interest and curiosity had instigated
to join the party.
As soon as they arrived, a long ladder was procured and carried up into
Capitola's chamber, and let down through the trap-door. Fortunately it
was long enough, for when the foot of the ladder found the floor of the
cellar, the head rested securely against the edge of the opening.
In a moment the two constables began singly to descend, the foremost
one carrying a lighted candle in his hand.
The remaining members of the party, consisting of Major Warfield,
Capitola, Mrs. Condiment, and some half dozen neighbors, remained
gathered around the open trap-door, waiting, watching, and listening
for what might next happen.
Presently one of the constables called out: "Major Warfield, sir!"
"Well!" replied Old Hurricane.
"He's a-breathing still, sir; but seems badly hurt, and may be a-dying,
seeing as he's unsensible and unspeakable. What shall we do long of
him?"
"Bring him up! let's have a look at the fellow, at any rate!" exclaimed
Old Hurricane, peremptorily.
"Just so, sir! but some of the gem-men up there'll have to come down on
the ladder and give a lift. He's a dead weight now, I tell your honor!"
Several of the neighbors immediately volunteered for the service, and
two of the strongest descended the ladder to lend their aid.
On attempting to move the injured man he uttered a cry of pain, and
fainted, and then it took the united strength and skill of four strong
men to raise the huge insensible form of the athlete, and get him up
the ladder. No doubt the motion greatly inflamed his inward wounds, but
that could not be helped. They got him up at last, and laid out upon
the floor a ghastly, bleeding, insensible form, around which every one
gathered to gaze. While they were all looking upon him as upon a
slaughtered wild beast, Capitola alone felt compassion.
"Uncle, he is quite crushed by his fall. Make the men lay him upon the
bed. Never think of me; I shall never occupy this room again; its
associations are too full of horrors. There, uncle, make them at once
lay him upon the bed."