ry depraved? He
must come to one or the other conclusion," thought Capitola.

They rode on very slowly for a mile further, and then, having arrived at
an open glade, the stranger drew rein and said:

"Come, pretty lark, hop down; here's a nice place to sit and rest."

"Very well; come help me off," said Capitola, pulling up her horse;
then, as by a sudden impulse, she exclaimed: "I don't like this place
either; it's right on top of the hill; so windy, and just see how rocky
the ground is. No, I'll not sit and rest here, and that I tell you."

"I am afraid you are trifling with me, my pretty bird. Take care; I'll
not be trifled with," said the man.

"I don't know what you mean by trifling with you any more than the dead.
But I'll not sit down there on those sharp rocks, and so I tell you. If
you will be civil and ride along with me until we get to the foot of the
hill, I know a nice place where we can sit down and have a good talk,
and I will tell you all my travels and you shall tell me all yours."

"Ex-actly; and where is that nice place?"

"Why, in the valley at the foot of the hill."

"Come--come on, then."

"Slowly, slowly," said Capitola; "I won't tire my horse."

They rode over the hill, down the gradual descent and on toward the
center of the valley.

They were now within a quarter of a mile of the river, on the opposite
side of which was Hurricane Hall and--safety! The stranger drew rein,
saying:

"Come, my cuckoo; here we are at the bottom of the valley; now or
never."

"Oh, now, of course; you see, I keep my promise," answered Capitola,
pulling up her horse.

The man sprang from his saddle and came to her side.

"Please be careful, now; don't let my riding-skirt get hung in the
stirrup," said Capitola, cautiously disengaging her drapery, rising in
the saddle and giving the stranger her hand. In the act of jumping she
suddenly stopped and looked down, exclaiming:

"Good gracious! how very damp the ground is here, in the bottom of the
valley!"

"More objections, I suppose, my pretty one; but they won't serve you any
longer. I am bent upon having a cozy chat with you upon that very turf,"
said the stranger, pointing to a little cleared space among the trees
beside the path.

"Now, don't be cross; just see how damp it is there; it would spoil my
riding-dress and give me my death of cold."

"Humph!" said the stranger, looking at her with a sly, grim, cruel
resolve.

"I'll tell you what it