“Is this right?” asked Van Curter, slipping a couple of gold pieces into his hand. “Double it,” said the other, shortly. The commandant obeyed. Boston clinked the pieces upon the floor, tried them with his teeth, and, being satisfied that they were good, put them in his pouch and turned to the commandant. “That _is_ the right argument. What do you want?” “Did Barlow send any message to my daughter?” “Y-a-a-s, he did.” “Have you got it?” “Not in writin’.” “What did he say?” “Assured her that he was hers till death.” “Ha!” “That his love would never grow cold.” “The insufferable Englishman!” “That he had not yet given up hope.” “He had better.” “Hopes to win your good will.” “Never!” “Bids her trust in him, and they will meet again.” “Is that all?” “Yes.” The commandant mused for some moments, with his head bowed upon his hand. Van Curter was one of those obstinate men, found often among soldiers, who loved or hated with vindictive energy. His hatred of the Yankees was intense, and it offended him greatly that his daughter should fix her affections upon one of the despised race. It would have pleased him better to have seen her married to some fat burgher of New Netherlands—one of his own nation. “Listen, sir,” said he, at last. “I have a few words to say to you. I love my child as well as any man can do. But I would sooner see her dead at my feet than married to a Yankee.” “Now, see here, squire. Don’t talk that way. ’Tain’t proper. We are an odd kind of people; I calculate we always get even with any one who hurts us. You don’t know the lieutenant very well, I see. I do. There ain’t a finer boy from the Floridas to Penobscot. He is brave, of good family, and I really don’t see what you have against him.” “Let that pass. I have told you what I think about this matter. He shall never again see Theresa Van Curter.” Boston hummed a low tune. “What do you mean by that?” “Don’t you believe any such thing, squire. You can’t keep two young people apart. If I want to hurry on a marriage, I always get some old maid, old woman, or old man, no matter which, to _oppose_ the match. _That_ will bring it on, as sure as a gun!” “You think so?” “It stands to reason. It’s just the way of human nature. They always want to eat forbidden fruit. Your best way would be to laugh the girl out of the idea, if you are so set against it.” “What a nation you will make some day,” cried the other, in a tone of admiration. “You can not fail. There is nothing which you can not compass, for your desires are boundless. I seem to see with a prophet’s eye. This great continent will one day bear a great nation famous for its liberal ideas, a nation of cunning men, who will hold the world in their grasp. My nation will contribute to make up _this_ nation; for where liberal ideas and freedom to mankind hold sway, the Dutch must have a hand.”