There were three of these houses in the works, built of logs, notched and squared at the end. They were solid structures, capable of resisting a very strong force. About twenty in the garrison were fit for duty, of whom ten were in one house, under Van Curter, seven under Van Zandt, while, by a series of unlucky accidents, Paul Swedlepipe, Ten Eyck and Hans Drinker were by themselves. As neither of these worthies would be dictated to by the other, the house was divided against itself. All the rest of the men were either wounded or prisoners. “You look a little out,” said Hans, “unt see if dem Yankees out dar’, Paul Swedlepipe.” The Dutchmen, as if the occasion called for it, now talked in English. “Vat you dink, Hans Drinker? You dells _me_ vas I must do? No. _You_ go look mit your own eyes, schoost like pung in a peer barrel.” “I pe de oldest; I commands dis house,” said Ten Eyck. “Don’t you vant to puy a _horse_?” demanded Paul, in a threatening tone, by way of reminding his adversary of the battle they had fought in the horse-corral. Ten Eyck subsided instanter. “I commands dish house,” asserted Drinker, “by orders mit te commandant.” “You’s a liar,” said Ten Eyck. “So he is,” said Paul, “and you’s a pigger liar.” At this moment a sound was heard like the ripping up of a bark roof. All three cast their eyes upward. “Vat’s dat?” asked Ten Eyck. “You go and see,” replied Paul. “I’ll see you in—Amsterdam first,” answered the other, stoutly. “You go, Hans Drinker.” “I won’t,” said Hans. He lighted his pipe, and sat down to smoke. Paul and Ten Eyck followed his example. The ripping of boards continued, and something could be heard dropping upon the floor above. “Something cooms into dis ’ous’,” quoth Hans, taking his pipe from his mouth to say it. “Dink so myself,” rejoined Paul. “Yaw, den vas shall happen?” “You go see.” “Nix—nay—_no_! You go, Ten Eyck.” “Nein!” thundered Ten Eyck, puffing away with great vigor at the long pipe. As he spoke, the doorway was darkened, and four of the detested Windsor men sprung into the room. They had mounted the roof, torn off the bark roofing, and dropped into the garret. “Surrender!” cried the foremost, as he drew near. “No use of fighting. Who commands here?” “Me!” burst simultaneously from three pair of lips. “All of you, eh? A corporate body, this. Come, boys, let’s bind these fellows fast and leave them.” With this benevolent intention he approached Hans Drinker. When he came near enough, it suddenly occurred to the Dutchman that it would be no more than his duty to fight a little. Accordingly, he unexpectedly let go his right fist, taking the Yankee under the ear. This prowess excited the others to feats of valor. Paul seized a stool upon which he had been seated, and hurled it at the head of his adversary. Ten Eyck grabbed the poker from the wide fireplace, and attacked his adversary with great zeal.