Now, without being the least of a coward, Capitola thought of the loneliness of the woods, the lateness of the hour, her own helplessness, and--Black Donald! And thinking "discretion the better part of valor," she urged her horse once more into a gallop for a few hundred yards; but the jaded beast soon broke into a trot and subsided into a walk that threatened soon to come to a standstill. The invisible pursuer gained on her. In vain she urged her steed with whip and voice; the poor beast would obey and trot for a few yards, and then fall into a walk. The thundering footfalls of the pursuing horse were close in the rear. "Oh, Gyp, is it possible that, instead of my capturing Black Donald, you are going to let Black Donald or somebody else catch me?" exclaimed Capitola, in mock despair, as she urged her wearied steed. In vain! The pursuing horseman was beside her; a strong hand was laid upon her bridle; a mocking voice was ringing in her ear: "Whither away so fast, pretty one?" CHAPTER XVI. CAP'S FEARFUL ADVENTURE. Who passes by this road so late? Companion of the Majolaine! Who passes by this road so late? Say! oh, say? --Old French Song. Of a naturally strong constitution and adventurous disposition, and inured from infancy to danger, Capitola possessed a high degree of courage, self-control and presence of mind. At the touch of that ruthless hand, at the sound of that gibing voice, all her faculties instantly collected and concentrated themselves upon the emergency. As by a flash of lightning she saw every feature of her imminent danger--the loneliness of the woods, the lateness of the hour, the recklessness of her fearful companion and her own weakness. In another instant her resolution was taken and her course determined. So, when the stranger repeated his mocking question: "Whither away so fast, pretty one?" she answered with animation: "Oh, I am going home, and so glad to have company; for, indeed, I was dreadfully afraid of riding alone through these woods to-night." "Afraid, pretty one--of what?" "Oh, of ghosts and witches, wild beasts, runaway negroes, and--Black Donald." "Then you are not afraid of me?" "Lors, no, indeed! I guess I ain't! Why should I be afraid of a respectable-looking gentleman like you, sir?" "And so you are going home? Where is your home, pretty one?" "On the other side of the river. But you need not keep on calling me 'pretty one;' it must be as tiresome to you to repeat it as it is to me to hear it." "What shall I call you, then, my dear?" "You may call me Miss Black; or, if you are friendly, you may call me Capitola." "Capitola!" exclaimed the man, in a deep and changed voice, as he dropped her bridle. "Yes--Capitola; what objection have you got to that? It is a pretty name, isn't it? But if you think it is too long, and if you feel very friendly, you may call me Cap."