They ran in silence until they reached the edge of the woods, when Van Zandt turned, and took his companion by the throat. The epithets he exhausted upon him were of the most fearful nature. Carl shook him off with an angry gesture. “Take your hand from my throat, Captain Joseph. You ought to know, by this time, that the blood of the Anselms is hot, and can not brook an insult. Hands off, I said!” “You infernal hound! Did I not order you not to fire?” “I know it. If I had expected to die the next moment, I would have fired that pistol. I will have him yet. He is doomed. Either he or I.” “Little cares he for such as you are. Fool, do you not see the immense advantage this man has over you in every point. He is cool; your blood is like fire. He calculates every chance; you act upon the first thought which enters your crazy head. You have, doubtless, by this rash act, spoiled our chance of taking the stockade. If you have, I am not the man to shield you from the rage of Van Curter.” “Take your own course,” replied Carl, angrily. “I care not. You had better look to it, or you will cancel the bond between us.” This was what Van Zandt did not care to do, and he begun to conciliate the man. This led him back to the subject of Bainbridge. “The unquiet beast stooped for a paper he had dropped just as I fired. What has happened to me? Is my aim gone? When was I ever known to miss such shots as these?” They hurried back to camp, and put the men in order for the attack. When they approached a change had taken place in the aspect of affairs. The works were now brilliantly lighted. Pitch-pine torches blazed in every crevice; the bright barrels of guns glistened along the wall. Van Curter halted his men and came forward, demanding a parley. “It shall be granted,” cried a voice from within. “Wait.” In a few moments the door of the stockade swung open, and two men came out. They were Captain Holmes and Barlow. Calling Van Zandt to his side, Van Curter advanced to meet them. “You have seen me once before,” said Holmes, “and know I have authority. What has the commandant to say to me.” “I am in the service of the Dutch republic. When you passed up the river, on your way to this place, I warned you to strike and stay. You refused, and kept on your course! I was not in a position then to enforce my commands. I had even made up my mind to tolerate you, as well as I might. But, since you have been here, the riot and disturbance caused by your men are beyond the power of my nature to endure longer.” “Of what do you complain?” “You are a cheating set.” “Ah!” “You sell my men horses which are good for nothing.” “They ought to know better than to buy.” “But they don’t. Your men make a very bad horse look beautiful. There is one vagabond among you whom I will give forty stripes save one, if he ever comes to Good Hope. I have sworn it.” “What is his name?” “Boston Bainbridge.” “Ah, indeed! What has Boston been doing?”