It was an awful abyss, scooped out as it were from the very bowels of
the earth, with its steep sides rent open in dreadful chasms, and far
down in its fearful depths a boiling whirlpool of black waters.
Urging her reluctant steed through a thicket of stunted thorns and over
a chaos of shattered rocks, Capitola approached as near as she safely
could to the brink of this awful pit. So absorbed was she in gazing
upon this terrible phenomenon of natural scenery that she had not
noticed, in the thicket on her right, a low hut that, with its
brown-green moldering colors, fell so naturally in with the hue of the
surrounding scenery as easily to escape observation. She did not even
observe that the sky was entirely overcast, and the thunder was
muttering in the distance. She was aroused from her profound reverie by
a voice near her asking: "Who are you, that dares to come without a guide to the Devil's Punch
Bowl?"
Capitola looked around and came nearer screaming than she ever had been
in her life, upon seeing the apparition that stood before her. Was it
man, woman, beast or demon? She could not tell! It was a very tall,
spare form, with a black cloth petticoat tied around the waist, a blue
coat buttoned over the breast, and a black felt hat tied down with a
red handkerchief, shading the darkest old face she had ever seen in her
life.
"Who are you, I say, who comes to the Devil's Punch Bowl without leave
or license?" repeated the frightful creature, shifting her cane from
one hand to the other.
"I? I am Capitola Black, from Hurricane Hall; but who, in the name of
all the fates and furies, are you?" inquired Capitola, who, in getting
over the shock, had recovered her courage.
"I am Harriet the Seeress of Hidden Hollow!" replied the apparition, in
a melodramatic manner that would not have discredited the queen of
tragedy herself. "You have heard of me?"
"Yes, but I always heard you called Old Hat, the Witch," said Cap.
"The world is profane--give me your hand!" said the beldame, reaching
out her own to take that of Capitola.
"Stop! Is your hand clean? It looks very black!"
"Cleaner than yours will be when it is stained with blood, young
maiden!"
"Tut! If you insist on telling my fortune, tell me a pleasant one, and
I will pay you double," laughed Capitola.
"The fates are not to be mocked. Your destiny will be that which the
stars decree. To prove to you that I know this, I tell you that you are
not what you have been!"