“I am glad you have spoken,” said he. “We now understand each other. While I fought with you a few moments since, I was angry at myself, because I fought with a man with whom I had no quarrel. I am best pleased that you have told me what cause we have to be bad friends. And yet, I can not feel that it is necessary to fight. Let the one who can win the heart of Theresa Van Curter take her for a wife, and let the other do as best he may. If you win her, I shall bid you God-speed. If I win, you may do the same. Is not this the nobler way?” “Such sickly philosophy may do for you Englishmen,” answered the other, coldly. “As for me, I am not of such blood. I love Theresa. She has been a guide to me through life—my leading star. I will not lose her now, when the time has come when she was promised to me. Will you give her up?” “Not I. If I have any place in her heart, I would not yield it for any living man.” “Be it so then. We are enemies from this hour. When we fight again it shall be where no man can come between. Do you intend to detain me, sir? I do not know your name.” “Not at all. Go your way and leave us to go ours,” said Boston. The captain turned hastily away, for it was now quite dark in the forest, and made his way to the river-side, where he expected to meet a party from the House of Good Hope, sent to meet him by Van Curter. The two men, being left alone in the forest, did not remain in the place where they stood, but hastened away to the river-side, by a different route. Here they entered one of the limestone caves, found on the river’s bank. The peddler lighted a pine torch. Then the two sat down to talk. CHAPTER V. BOSTON AS A MISCHIEF-MAKER. Theresa had met the young Englishman on an embassay to Manhattan, as Captain Van Zandt had said. Their love had been a plant of quick growth, and her father learned too late that her heart was given to Willie. She had been betrothed in youth to young Van Zandt, the son of an old comrade in arms. Hence the knowledge made the fiery colonel particularly angry. In his rage, Van Curter had sent a messenger to Joseph, desiring his presence at Good Hope. Every thing being remarkably quiet in the Manhattan settlement, just then, the captain readily obtained leave of absence. While on his way to the House of Good Hope, by the river, he met the young lieutenant, who was evidently waiting for somebody, on the river’s bank. Retiring as the boat-load of Manhattaners approached, Barlow was followed into the forest by the captain. Not being a man to run from a Manhattaner, Barlow paused, and, as we have seen, closed in mortal combat.