E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) HIDDEN HAND by MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH Author of THE CURSE OF CLIFTON New York Hurst & Company Publishers CONTENTS. I. The Nocturnal Visit II. The Masks III. The Quest IV. Capitola V. The Discovery VI. A Short, Sad Story VII. Metamorphosis of the Newsboy VIII. Herbert Greyson IX. Marah Rocke X. The Room of the Trap-Door XI. A Mystery and a Storm at Hurricane Hall XII. Marah's Dream XIII. Marah's Memories XIV. The Wasting Heart XV. Cap's Country Capers XVI. Cap's Fearful Adventure XVII. Another Storm at Hurricane Hall XVIII. The Doctor's Daughter XIX. The Resigned Soul XX. The Outlaw's Rendezvous XXI. Gabriel LeNoir XXII. The Smuggler and Capitola XXIII. The Boy's Love XXIV. Capitola's Mother XXV. Cap's Tricks and Perils XXVI. The Peril and the Pluck of Cap XXVII. Seeking his Fortune XVIII. A Panic in the Outlaw's Den XXIX. The Victory Over Death XXX. The Orphan THE HIDDEN HAND. CHAPTER I. THE NOCTURNAL VISIT. * * * Whence is that knocking? How is't with me when every sound appals me? * * * I hear a knocking In the south entry! Hark!--More knocking! --Shakespeare. Hurricane Hall is a large old family mansion, built of dark-red sandstone, in one of the loneliest and wildest of the mountain regions of Virginia. The estate is surrounded on three sides by a range of steep, gray rocks, spiked with clumps of dark evergreens, and called, from its horseshoe form, the Devil's Hoof. On the fourth side the ground gradually descends in broken, rock and barren soil to the edge of the wild mountain stream known as the Devil's Run. When storms and floods were high the loud roaring of the wind through the wild mountain gorges and the terrific raging of the torrent over its rocky course gave to this savage locality its ill-omened names of Devil's Hoof, Devil's Run and Hurricane Hall. Major Ira Warfield, the lonely proprietor of the Hall, was a veteran officer, who, in disgust at what he supposed to be ill-requited services, had retired from public life to spend the evening of his vigorous age on this his patrimonial estate. Here he lived in seclusion, with his old-fashioned housekeeper, Mrs. Condiment, and his old family servants and his favorite dogs and horses. Here his mornings were usually spent in the chase, in which he excelled, and his afternoons and evenings were occupied in small convivial suppers among his few chosen companions of the chase or the bottle.