Feared, shunned, belied ere youth had lost her force,
He hated men too much to feel remorse,
And thought the vice of wrath a sacred call,
To pay the injuries of some on all.
There was a laughing devil in his sneer,
That caused emotions both of rage and fear:
And where his frown of hatred darkly fell,
Hope, withering fled and mercy sighed farewell!
Byron
Herbert Greyson had been correct in his conjecture concerning the cause
of Colonel Le Noir's conduct in absenting himself from the trial, or
appearing there only in the person of his attorney. A proud, vain,
conceited man, full of Joseph Surfacisms, he could better have borne to
be arraigned upon the charge of murder than to face the accusation of
baseness that was about to be proved upon him. Being reasonably certain
as to what was likely to be the decision of the Orphans' Court, he was
not disappointed in hearing that judgment had been rendered in favor of
his ward and her friends. His one great disappointment had been upon
discovering the flight of Clara. For when he had ascertained that she
had fled, he knew that all was lost--and lost through Capitola, the
hated girl for whose destruction he had now another and a stronger
motive--revenge!
In this mood of mind three days before his departure to join his
regiment he sought the retreat of the outlaw. He chose an early hour of
the evening as that in which he should be most likely to find Black
Donald.
It was about eight o'clock when he wrapped his large cloak around his
tall figure, pulled his hat low over his sinister brow and set out to
walk alone to the secret cavern in the side of the Demon's Punch Bowl.
The night was dark and the path dangerous; but his directions had been
careful, so that when he reached the brink of that awful abyss he knew
precisely where to begin his descent with the least danger of being
precipitated to the bottom.
And by taking a strong hold upon the stunted saplings of pine and cedar
that grew down through the clefts of the ravine, and placing his feet
firmly upon the points of projecting rocks, he contrived to descend the
inside of that horrible abyss, which from the top seemed to be fraught
with certain death to any one daring enough to make the attempt.
When about half-way down the precipice he reached the clump of cedar
bushes growing in the deep cleft, and concealing the hole that formed
the entrance to the cavern.
Here he paused, and, looking through the entrance into a dark and
apparently fathomless cavern, he gave the peculiar signal whistle,
which was immediately answered from within by the well-known voice of
the outlaw chief, saying: "All right, my colonel! Give us your hand! Be careful, now, the floor
of this cavern is several feet below the opening."