"I daren't, Missus Compliment. Old marse forbid me to show my face to him until I fetch Miss Caterpillar home safe," said Wool, turning his horse's head as if to go. In doing so he saw Capitola galloping toward the house, and with an exclamation of joy pointed her out to the old lady and rode on to meet her. "Oh, Miss Caterpillar, I'se so glad I've found you! I'se done been out looking for you all night long!" exclaimed Wool, as he met her. Capitola pulled up her horse and surveyed the speaker with a comical expression, saying: "Been out all night looking for me! Well, I must say you seem in a fine state of preservation for a man who has been exposed to the storm all night. You have not a wet thread on you." "Lor', miss, it rained till one o'clock, and then the wind riz and blowed till six and blowed me dry," said Wool, as he sprang off his horse and helped his young mistress to alight. Then, instead of taking the beasts to the stable, he tied them to the tree and hurried into the house and upstairs to his master's room, to apprise him of the return of the lost sheep, Capitola. Old Hurricane was lying awake, tossing, groaning and grumbling with anxiety. On seeing Wool enter he deliberately raised up and seized a heavy iron candlestick and held it ready to hurl at the head of that worthy, whom he thus addressed: "Ah, you have come, you atrocious villain! You know the conditions. If you have dared to show your face without bringing your young mistress----" "Please, marse, I wur out looking for her all night." "Have you brought her?" thundered Old Hurricane, rising up. "Please, marse, yes, sir; I done found her and brought her home safe." "Send her up to me," said Old Hurricane, sinking back with a sigh of infinite relief. Wool flew to do his bidding. In five minutes Capitola entered her uncle's chamber. Now, Old Hurricane had spent a night of almost intolerable anxiety upon his favorite's account, bewailing her danger and praying for her safety; but no sooner did he see her enter his chamber safe and sound and smiling than indignation quite mastered him, and jumping out of his bed in his nightgown, he made a dash straight at Capitola. Now, had Capitola run there is little doubt but that, in the blindness of his fury, he would have caught and beat her then and there. But Cap saw him coming, drew up her tiny form, folded her arms and looked him directly in the face. This stopped him; but, like a mettlesome old horse suddenly pulled up in full career, he stamped and reared and plunged with fury, and foamed and spluttered and stuttered before he could get words out. "What do you mean, you vixen, by standing there and popping your great eyes out at me? Are you going to bite, you tigress? What do you mean by facing me at all?" he roared, shaking his fist within an inch of Capitola's little pug nose. "I am here because you sent for me, sir," was Cap's unanswerable rejoinder.