"How was his villainy found out?"

"Well, it was said he married, had a family and prospered for a long
while; but that the poor Succapoos always suspected him, and bore a long
grudge, and that when the sons of the murdered warriors grew up to be
powerful braves, one night they set upon the house and massacred the
whole family except the eldest son, a lad of ten, who escaped and ran
away and gave the alarm to the block-house, where there were soldiers
stationed. It is said that after killing and scalping father, mother and
children, the savages threw the dead bodies down that trap-door. And
they had just set fire to the house and were dancing their wild dance
around it, when the soldiers arrived and dispersed the party and put out
the fire."

"Oh, what bloody, bloody days!"

"Yes, my dear, and as I told you before, if that horrible pit has any
bottom, that bottom is strewn with human skeletons!"

"It is an awful thought----"

"As I said, my dear, if you feel at all afraid you can have another
room."

"Afraid! What of? Those skeletons, supposing them to be there, cannot
hurt me! I am not afraid of the dead! I only dread the living, and not
them much, either!" said Capitola.

"Well, my dear, you will want a waiting-woman, anyhow; and I think I
will send Pitapat to wait on you; she can sleep on a pallet in your
room, and be some company."

"And who is Pitapat, Mrs. Condiment?"

"Pitapat? Lord, child, she is the youngest of the housemaids. I've
called her Pitapat ever since she was a little one beginning to walk,
when she used to steal away from her mother, Dorcas, the cook, and I
would hear her little feet coming pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, up the dark
stairs up to my room. As it was often the only sound to be heard in the
still house, I grew to call my little visitor Pitapat."

"Then let me have Pitapat by all means. I like company, especially
company that I can send away when I choose."

"Very well, my dear; and now I think you'd better smooth your hair and
come down with me to tea, for it is full time, and the major, as you may
know, is not the most patient of men."

Capitola took a brush from her traveling-bag, hastily arranged her black
ringlets and announced herself ready.

They left the room and traversed the same labyrinth of passages, stairs,
empty rooms and halls back to the dining-room, where a comfortable fire
burned and a substantial supper was spread.

Old Hurricane took Capitola's hand with a