“I took you in,” continued my tormenter. “Now you may go. Perhaps he will murder you.” How this struck home in the light of what he had already done. “Perhaps he will give you his daughter in marriage.” “I don’t want his daughter.” “Hoity toity, child. Don’t break your china doll now it is in your hands. What will you have in exchange for your peerless sister?” “I want revenge.” “And refuse to take it! Bah, you talk like a fool.” “I have talked like a fool. But now I swear to hound this hell-cat to his death.” “And Miriam?” “As we sow, so must we reap. Let us spare her if we can, but—” “Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, my Michael. I come not to bring peace into the world, but a sword. This is the word of God, my child.” She had slipped her arm about me and was talking in the gentler manner in which she had comforted me the time I first learned the news of my sister’s fate. Half an hour later I left the hall, sullen, resolved and conquered. Yes; once more the strength of her spirit had proved greater than the strength of mine. I must see more and be tried again before the final break should come. And when it came, like a flash, like a thief in the night, some who were upon the housetop came not down, but were taken in their sins. And others like myself were spared to learn the glory of God through goodness and mercy in return for sin and evil. CHAPTER XXIII VAN VOLKENBERG AND THE EARL The next day was the beginning of that period that led rapidly to the end. A few days later and all was over; there was no Red Band left to threaten New York, and I—I had suffered untold remorse for my cunning and deceit. Meantime the uncertain breath of rumor that I had heard upon the Slip had grown into a gale of certainty. People stopped at corners in a frightened sort of way to discuss the former invasions of the French. The Coffee-House was full to overflowing, and the conversation always turned upon the last invasion of the County Frontenac, or upon our long immunity from northward danger. But at last, we all thought, peace was at an end. Certainty of the coming of danger was quickly followed by fear of what would follow in case of a descent from the Canadian frontier. It was a long way to Albany, to be sure, but the fort at Albany was weak. If that were once taken the enemy would have a free path to our very doors. So the people fell to work in haste to repair the wall which toppled across the island in a miserable state of repair. The trench on the inside was cleaned out and deepened. New palisades were put in to replace some of the old ones that had rotted through and were ready to fall from their own weight. The gates were hung anew and a guard stationed at them. Sunrise and sunset saw them securely locked. While the gates were locked no one was allowed to leave the city without a pass signed by the governor and stamped with the great seal of the province.