He had gathered thus much from his father, that Capitola Black was
supposed to be Capitola Le Noir, the rightful heiress of all that vast
property in land, houses, iron and coal mines, foundries and furnaces,
railway shares, etc., and bank stocks, from which his father drew the
princely revenue that supported them both in their lavish extravagance
of living.
As the heiress--or, rather, the rightful owner--of all this vast
fortune, Capitola was a much greater "catch" than poor Clara, with her
modest estate, had been. And Mr. Craven Le Noir was quite willing to
turn the tables on his father by running off with the great heiress,
and step from his irksome position of dependent upon Colonel Le Noir's
often ungracious bounty to that of the husband of the heiress and the
master of the property. Added to that was another favorable
circumstance--namely, whereas he had had a strong personal antipathy to
Clara he had as strong an attraction to Capitola, which would make his
course of courtship all the pleasanter.
In one word, he resolved to woo, win and elope with, or forcibly
abduct, Capitola Le Noir, marry her and then turn upon his father and
claim the fortune in right of his wife. The absence of Colonel Le Noir
in Mexico favored his projects, as he could not fear interruption.
Meanwhile our little madcap remained quite unconscious of the honors
designed her. She had cried every day of the first week of Herbert's
absence; every alternate day of the second; twice in the third; once in
the fourth; not at all in the fifth, and the sixth week she was quite
herself again, as full of fun and frolic and as ready for any mischief
or deviltry that might turn up.
She resumed her rides, no longer followed by Wool, because Old
Hurricane, partly upon account of his misadventure in having had the
misfortune inadvertently "to lose sight of" his mistress upon that
memorable occasion of the metamorphosis of Cap into Clara and partly
because of the distant absence of Le Noir, did not consider his
favorite in danger.
He little knew that a subtle and unscrupulous agent had been left sworn
to her destruction, and that another individual, almost equally
dangerous, had registered a secret vow to run off with her.
Neither did poor Cap when, rejoicing to be free from the dogging
attendance of Wool, imagine the perils to which she was exposed; nor is
it even likely that if she had she would have cared for them in any
other manner than as promising piquant adventures. From childhood she
had been inured to danger, and had never suffered harm; therefore, Cap,
like the Chevalier Bayard, was "without fear and without reproach."