The two men rose slowly and sullenly to their feet, casting looks of hate at each other. One, however, recognizing Boston, extended a hand, giving him a cheerful welcome. “But what means this, William Barlow? How is it that I find you brawling like a boy with a stranger, when you have weighty affairs to attend to? By my faith, I did not look for this at your hands!” The person he addressed was young, and clad in the uniform of the early Connecticut soldiery. His form was erect, and his bearing that of a soldier. He bent down his eyes, wonderful as it may seem, at the words of the peddler. “You are right, Boston, in saying that I had no right to quarrel. But it was forced upon me against my will. Yonder man will tell you that this quarrel is none of my seeking.” The person of whom he spoke had stood upon his guard, drawing his sword, and expecting to fight both men when they had done with their conference. He, too, had the erect bearing of the soldier, and _his_ dress was that of captain of the soldiers at Manhattan. His face was a study. Seen in repose, it was beautiful, for a man. But now, with his anger fresh upon him, it seemed the face of a fiend. This was Joseph Van Zandt, captain in the army of the governor at New Netherlands, a brave soldier, but an unscrupulous foe. “If it will aid you,” said he, “I do not hesitate to say that I forced this quarrel upon Lieutenant Barlow.” “So sure as my name is Boston Bainbridge,” said that worthy, “I could give you no worse punishment than to leave you in the hands of Willie Barlow. I have not the least doubt he would give a good account of you. But, it may not be. How came this quarrel about?” “I met him here,” said Barlow, “and he talked in a friendly tone at first; but when I gave my name he drew upon me with the utmost fury.” “Why was this, sir?” asked Boston, turning to the captain. “Can not men meet in the forest, but they must fight like dogs?” “Ask me no questions. I do not recognize your right to do so. It is enough for me to know that the name of the man who stands by your side is so hateful to me that I am his enemy to the death.” “You are over bold, sir,” said Boston, setting his teeth hard. “What hope have you, if we two set upon you together.” “The hope of a man and a soldier,” replied Captain Van Zandt, quickly. “I may fall, or I may conquer. Set on!” “I did not say we would attack you. We are peaceful men, and do not pick quarrels with every man whose name does not suit us.” “Let _him_ ask me why I hate the name he bears,” replied the other, “and I will tell him. That is, if he cares to know.” “If you choose to tell,” said Willie, “I should like to hear; for, by my faith, I never offended you in the slightest degree.” “I will tell you. Because you took advantage of your position as ambassador from the Plymouth Colony, and tried to win away from me my affianced wife, Theresa Van Curter.” Willie took a forward step, and addressed the young man boldly: