He rushed from the room, closing the door violently behind him. Carl stood with his face against the wall of the room, gnawing his nether lip with such energy that the blood started from beneath his white teeth. The two men saw in each other’s faces the mirror wherein to read their own hearts.
“I hear strange sounds,” said Carl; “and blood seems to run before my eyes. If she were to open that door now, I should kill her. I am getting mad, I think. Was I not right about that devil upon earth? I will kill him yet, for he is the cause of all this.”
“You were right enough. He is a brave fellow, in his gay clothes.”
“To see him now, with his hair curled and his sword at his thigh! To hear the grand tone in which he speaks! Will he take her, now that she is in a more lowly station than he? It would be much to hope that he would slight her now. Oh, that he would?”
“But he will not. These Puritans have queer ideas of honor, and would think it a shame to their manhood to break faith plighted to a woman. I have given your little fool a bitter pill to swallow. I told her he was dead. She heard enough of our conversation to hear us say that, and she believes it. Do these rascals show any signs of a desire to attack us?”
“I have lost sight of some of them, and can not tell where they are gone. The rest sit out yonder by the other houses, eating breakfast.”
“Whom do you miss?”
“Robert Holmes is gone, and so is your friend Barlow. What if they should set the girls free.”
“The windows are bolted.”
“I know it, on the inside. What is to hinder the girls from opening them?”
“They are spiked down. I tell you they have not the strength to open one, even if they could get a signal from the outside. Did you see those fellows go away?”
“They slipped out of sight, and I think went out of the gate. After that, I came to this door and tried to get in.”
“And failed.”
“Yes; it is bolted.”
“I didn’t think Katrine would do it. I begin to respect her. What is that, Jan?”
The man who was at the window spoke:
“The truce is over, sir.”
“Are they coming?”
“Yes, captain.”
“Get your guns ready, then. Where is your rifle, Carl?”
“Here, sir.”
“Mark that Barlow.”
“I can not. My bullet has another work to do. When Robert Holmes is dead it is at your service.”
“Say you so. Well, I do not care. I have no love for him. These rascals come on slowly. They are well versed in woodcraft. Something different from the way our blockheads came up to the stockade at Windsor. Fire whenever you get a chance, boys.”
The men of Windsor came forward with care, sheltering themselves as well as they could behind the buildings in the works. As they came to the last one, they paused and begun a close fire upon the house. Every head which showed itself at a loop-hole became the mark of a bullet. One of Van Zandt’s men was shot through the head before they had been in action five minutes. The defenders saw that it was no boys’-play now, and hesitated about approaching the windows. The captain ordered them all to lie down, knowing that their fire could do no harm unless the men exposed themselves. He took his place at one of the loops to watch, taking care not to give any of the marksmen a shot. But a lively fire was kept up, and he dared not go away.
“Watch that side, Carl,” he said, pointing to the other loop. “If they get under the walls we shall have trouble.”
The moment Joseph left the room Theresa was upon her feet, and the strong bar dropped into its place before the door. Then, looking into the other room, she called to Katrine.
“Rouse up, dear,” she said. “Do not lie down like a child. You have bolted your door—good. When these dear creatures in the next room come for us we may not be here. Bring me that stool. We will give them the slip yet. See if we do not.”
“Oh, Theresa,” said Katrine, rising, “he is dead!”
“Don’t you believe it. That fellow can lie, and you know it. Hold this stool steady so that I shall not fall.”
Katrine obeyed, and Theresa mounted the stool, and took down a stout saber which hung from a pair of branching antlers over her head. She lifted the stout weapon, and looked at it with beaming eyes.
“My grandfather’s sword,” she said. “It has struck good blows for the honor of his nation. May it do as much for the honor of his granddaughter.”
Assisted by Katrine, Theresa mounted the wide window-sill, and strove to pry up the spikes which had been driven in to close the lattice. But they were strong and resisted her best efforts. Seeing the uselessness of this attempt, she begun to cut away the inner fastenings of the lattice bars, and with the aid of the now active Katrine, at length succeeded with but little noise, in detaching the ends of these bars. The way of escape was then gained, since it was hardly five feet from the ground.
“We are safe,” whispered Theresa. “Let us thank God.”
The two fell upon their knees for a moment, before they attempted an escape. The shots had begun to fall about the building. Katrine passed out first, and Theresa followed, still bearing her grandfather’s sword.
CHAPTER XI.
IT IS FINISHED.
Passing around the house to escape from the rear, the two girls suddenly came upon two men, whom, in the darkness, they conceived to be Van Zandt and Carl.
Theresa, in the excitement of the moment, lifted her sword in her hand and pointed it at the breast of the nearest, who rushed toward her.
“Stand back,” she cried; “I will not be taken alive.”
“Theresa!”
“Willie!”
The strength which had sustained her until this moment gave way, and she sunk into the arms of her lover.
“Let us away,” said Willie. “Come, Robert, you are slow.”
Robert Holmes dropped the bar with which he had been prying open the window, and came forward, saying:
“Our work is taken out of our hands. Katrine, have you no greeting for me, now that I am no longer Boston Bainbridge, but Robert Holmes?”
His voice broke the spell; she was in his arms in a moment, sobbing. “They told me you were dead. I thought I knew your voice.”
“Let us get out of this, Robert,” said Willie. “You had better carry Katrine. How much they must have endured.”
“Preserve the sword, Willie,” whispered Theresa, “it has saved me.”
Keeping in the rear of the house, they stole out of the postern gate through which they had entered, and soon placed the girls in safety in the house which was first taken. This done, the young men went back to their duty. Van Curter was there.
“Have you succeeded?” he cried, taking his cue from their happy faces.
“Yes, thank God, the girls are out of that villain’s power, and we have nothing to restrain us from an attack upon the house. Give me that white scarf, and I will speak to them.”
“Be careful, Robert,” said his brother; “they are desperate men, and may not respect the flag.”
“Robert took a ramrod, and fastened the white scarf upon it. Ordering his men to cease firing, the young man passed into the parade and called to Van Zandt.
“Why are you here again?” he demanded, angrily.
“To ask you to yield. Why should we shed blood, when nothing can be gained? Open your doors and let us enter.”
“You ask in vain,” was the stern answer; “you want the girls, I suppose; but you shall never see the face of Katrine, and Theresa has bid good-by forever to your friend Barlow. So away with you if you would save them trouble.”
“If you could look into the room where you placed the girls, you would see a broken casement and an empty cage. The girls are safe in our hands.”
“A Yankee horse-trader’s lie.”
“Go and see.”
Van Zandt rushed away and tried the door of Theresa’s room; it was fast bolted. He soon dashed a hole in it with the butt of his heavy rifle, and saw the empty cage of which the other had spoken: the nest was warm, but the birds had flown.
He went back and whispered to Carl; their conference over, Van Zandt went again to the window.
“What terms can we make?”
“The terms shall be the same as those given to Van Curter.”
“To all?”
“To every one.”
“I ask no more,” said the Dutch captain. “Go down and open the door, Jan.”
The doors opened and they passed out, Joseph and Carl looking back with strange meaning on the shattered window from which the girls had escaped. The countenance of the young German, Anselm, pale with contending passions, looked absolutely hideous under the glare of the rising sun. He had been foiled at every point; the revenge he had hoped for was torn from his grasp.
“Bear up, Carl,” whispered the young captain; “do not let these villains see how you are moved.”
He controlled his feelings by an effort of his powerful will. “It shall be as you say,” he replied in a hushed tone. “They shall be aroused only by the blow I shall strike them. Do your best, so that we shall pass another night in this place.”
“I will set about it,” answered the young captain. “I can read your thoughts.”
“That is well; then I need not speak. Where are the girls.”
“In one of the houses, as I think.”
“Do you see that accursed Holmes? He is going to her, now that he has triumphed over me. Would it not be a pleasant thing to plunge a knife into his heart? If he gives me time, I shall do it.”
The two separated, and set about their preparations for departure. It was found impossible for the former occupants to leave that day, so they were assigned places outside the fort in the cabins they had built.
Robert slept in the fort, in the room next to that in which the maidens were, and from which they had escaped. This man was always on his guard. He never lay down unarmed. His slumber was light, and only needed the slightest sound to break it. At midnight, he was wakened by a sound as if some fastening was broken. He raised himself upon his elbow and listened. The sound was continued. It evidently proceeded from the girls’ room. He rose with care, and, stepping softly into their apartment, discovered a dark figure—that of a man—with something gleaming between his closed teeth, climbing into the window. Robert’s plan was formed in a moment.
The figure was that of Carl. By slow approaches he advanced his body, until he stood upon the floor of the chamber. He now took the knife, which he had held in his teeth, from his mouth, and approached the bedside.
The girls slept soundly. The perils of the night had wearied them entirely, and they gave themselves wholly to slumber. The murderer, for he had no less a thought in his heart, bent over them. The clear moonlight—for the storm of the night before had been succeeded by a remarkably bright evening—stole through the broken lattice, and fell upon the upturned faces of the two. In his mad desire to be revenged upon Robert and Willie, Carl could think of nothing which could wound them deeper than the death of these pure beings. “They shall die,” he muttered, “and I will never again look a white man in the face.” The heart of a demon would have been touched by the beauty of those over whom he lifted his steel; but the heart of Carl was harder than adamant. The knife was lifted when a pistol cracked. The murderer, wounded unto death, dropped the knife and staggered to the window.
“You have triumphed, devil that you are—you have triumphed. I have nothing left but to die. I curse you with my latest breath,” he said, recognizing the man who had shot him.
As he spoke his hold upon the window-sill relaxed, and he fell backward upon the floor. The strong limbs stiffened, and the moon’s rays fell upon the face of the dead.
Robert quieted the frightened girls, and calling in help, removed the body. He had, in some way, eluded the guard, and made an entrance into the works, an unlucky thing for him.
The garrison was permitted, the next morning, to march away, according to the terms of surrender, with the understanding that by that surrender they conceded all claims to the occupancy of the Connecticut Valley.
But, all the captives did not retire. The captives Theresa and Katrine very wisely preferred to remain at Good Hope, which fortress Robert Holmes had resolved to retain against a future need. But, as preliminary to such occupancy, the minister was put into requisition, and a double marriage was consummated that morning at which Colonel Van Curter was present. Though much against his will, he gave the hand of his child away, bestowing upon her his benediction in good old Dutch fashion: “If thee will marry an Englishman, he is the man I shall be content to see thee wed; so God bless you.” And, the ceremony over, he passed away, heavy-hearted enough—having lost both fortress and daughter in the unlucky Good Hope. He soon forgot his sorrows by sailing away to Holland.
Paul Swedlepipe lived to a good old age, ever retaining an unconquerable aversion to Ten Eyck. To escape persecution, this last-named worthy removed further up the Hudson river, where he became rich and powerful, cursing the Yankees with his last breath. Wampset kept his band together until his death, when it was broken up and merged into the Nipmuck tribe. For years the Dutch settlers missed Boston Bainbridge, and could hardly bring themselves to believe that the gallant soldier, of whose fame they heard so much, was the same man who had supplied them with small goods and poor horses; nor could they ever understand that his disguise had been assumed in order to break forever the power of the Dutch in Connecticut Valley, by gaining information of their designs in their own houses.
THE END.