“Draw your sword,” continued Van Curter, “and if this fellow attempts again to speak of his beggarly pack, run him through the body.” The eyes of the hawker begun to flash, and he folded his arms upon his breast. “Your questions?” he cried. “Let me hear them.” “First, then, who sent you here?” “I have told you already.” “What did you come to do?” “You will make nothing out of me while a man stands over me with a drawn sword. I am only a poor man—one of the poorest in his majesty’s colony—but the threats of no _Dutchman_ under heaven can scare _me_.” “What would you have me do?” “Send away this fellow with the sword, and let me talk in my own way. We shall get along quite as well. And don’t try to bully. I ain’t used to it. There are those who will see me righted if I am ill-treated—_that_ you must know.” “Do you threaten?” “Will you send this fellow away?” “Retire, Hans, and stand at the door. Enter when I call.” The orderly obeyed. “Now speak,” said Van Curter. “You see, squire, I had been to Boston, and I calculated it was about time you were out of nicknacks, so I came out.” “You stick to that story? Have you been to Windsor?” “Wal, I calculate I have.” “What is Holmes doing?” “That’s rather a hard question. The last time I saw him, he was eatin’. He _has_ got a mouth to put away the provisions in, now I tell you.” “Pish, man; you know what I want to know. Tell me what they are doing at Windsor.” “They are building a mighty big stock-house there, I reckon—nigh as big as Good Hope. But law, what _can_ they do? You could eat them up!” “Are they preparing to attack me?” “No, I calculate not. They have all they kin do to keep the Indians friendly.” “Do they talk much about us?” “Yes, more or less. Not any thing to count, howsumdever.” “_What_ do they say?” “I reckon they think you are pretty strong here. They talk about that some.” “Do you think, if they were to attempt it, they would drive us out of Good Hope?” “Now, I don’t know as to _that_. I am a bit of a Boston man myself, and don’t care so much for Windsor. I don’t say they wouldn’t if they got the chance. You see, it’s a pretty bit of land, and you asked them to come out here.” “So we did, fools that we were to do it. What would you advise us to do?” “You want me to tell you?” “Yes.” “Honest?” “Yes.” “Then _this_ is what I think: Don’t stir us up. We are good folks, if you let us alone; but if you rile us up, we git hornety. I don’t say this to scare you, or any thing. But we are tough colts to ride without a halter.” “Do you think we fear you?” “I don’t say it. You may or you may not. But, you ask my advice, and I give it. Don’t cut up rough. Don’t go to smoothing us against the grain. Go with the nap of the cloth, and you’ll find it’ll work better.” “Ah! How many men have you at Windsor?” “Don’t keep mixing me up with the Windsor folks, squire. I don’t belong there. I am a Boston man, myself.”