“This was decided some time since,” she returned, quietly gathering up some things from the table, and placing them in a box at her side. “It then remains for me to tell you what may result, if you push me too far. Remember, I can bear, and have borne much for your sake. There is only one way by which you can save yourself and him.” “You have no power over him,” she answered, with a curl of her proud lip. “What may be the way in which we may be _saved_?” “By being my wife.” “Death before such a redemption! Do you use threats to me?” “Not at all. I never threaten. I act, as you and your minion shall find. I bid you good-night, Theresa Van Curter—as a lover, forever. In after times we may meet again, and you shall say that I am not a man to be despised. Give you good-night.” The door closed behind him, and Theresa was alone. Once rid of his presence, and the firmness which had sustained her through the interview gave way; she dropped her head upon the table, and gave way to a flood of tears. The night came, dark and gloomy, and Theresa retired early. The men of Good Hope, tired by their fruitless expedition, sunk into repose. There was no rain, though the clouds covered the whole face of the sky. Theresa could not sleep; she rose, threw on a light wrapper, and sat at the latticed casement, the place where Willie had so often come. A dark figure rose outside the window, and a scream rose to her lips, which was hushed by a low “hist” from the stranger. She threw open the casement with care. It was Willie. “I have not time to exchange a word,” he said, kissing her. “Whatever happens to-night, keep to your room. Warn Katrine, also; but be cautious.” With these words he was gone, and she sat in breathless expectation. An hour dragged by, when, all at once, there rose upon the still night air the shouts of men in combat. The Windsor men had turned the tables and attacked Good Hope! Cheers and execrations mingled upon the sultry air. Dark forms flitted to and fro in the gloom. The Windsor men had followed close upon the trail of the men of Good Hope, and attacked them at the hour when the senses of all but the guards were locked in slumber. Indeed, some of the men yet lingered in the works before the assault came. In a very short space the outer work was won, and the Dutch driven into the houses within the works. These they barricaded, and prepared to make a vigorous resistance. At the first alarm, Van Zandt and Van Curter were upon their feet and seized their weapons. In the _melée_ outside, they were separated in some way, and were driven into different houses. The one in which the captain took refuge was that of the commandant. Carl was with him.