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CHAPTER IX. CUDGELS TO THE FRONT.

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van curter did not intend to give up without a struggle. the attempt to take the officers prisoners was made at the instigation of captain van zandt, who argued that they were to the garrison at windsor what the head is to the body, and that the head once off the body is useless. how poorly they succeeded has been seen. still at their posts within the fort, holmes knew that they were gathering to attack him. he passed the word to the men to fight steadily.

van curter’s men advanced from four sides, bearing ladders hastily constructed, with which to scale the walls. even now holmes did not like to use his rifles on them, and called on them to stay. they only answered by yells of defiance, and quickened their pace. holmes reluctantly gave the order to fire.

the balls whistled about the ears of the dutch. several of them were wounded, but none killed. the injured were hurried to the rear, and the rest planted their ladders and begun the ascent. holmes, who did not like to kill any of them, ordered his men to throw down the ladders as fast as they were placed. as there were generally two or three men on each ladder when they fell, bruises and broken ribs resulted.

“cudgels to the front!” cried out a laughing voice at this juncture.

the men turned. boston bainbridge was just coming[82] out of the cabin, carrying an armful of stout oak cudgels, which he had been smoothing so as to fit the hand. these he distributed to the men, who received them with lusty cheers.

“throw open the gate,” cried boston. “we shall show these knaves that we do not fear them. what do they mean by coming against us with empty hands. they will bring guns next time.”

the gates were flung open with a will, and the eighteen men of the garrison found themselves opposed by about twenty-five dutchmen, the rest having been placed hors de combat in various ways. but, they were not the men to yield tamely, and catching up clubs and stones, they met the sortié bravely. foremost among the party from the stockade, boston bainbridge came—not the boston who sold his wares in good hope, but an active forester, eager for a fray. carl anselm, with his bruised and distorted face, looking fiendlike under the glare of the fires, rushed at him with a knife in his hand. but he went down at once like an ox under the ax of the butcher. the dutch tried in vain to stand up before the men of windsor. they were driven from the field, and made their way back to camp, dragging their wounded with them.

next day they went back to good hope. they wanted to be as far as possible from the long-armed men of windsor. with curses both loud and deep, van curter led his men home, closed his gates, and sat down to think.

“who is boston bainbridge?” he asked of captain van zandt.

“the devil himself,” replied that worthy.

“at least, he is something more than a peddler. did you see him fight? our men went down like grass before the mower. he has powerful arms.”

“poor carl is disfigured for life. first, that blow he took from barlow spread his nose all over his face, and now his head is broken. he will go mad if he does not get revenge.”

“where is he?”

“the surgeon has him.”

“that was a bad failure.”

[83]

“bad! i should think so. but who, i ask you, would have thought it possible for two men to escape from such a net? i would have periled my soul on my power to hold barlow; but my head struck a stone. that will be settled sometime. when we meet again with swords in our hands, one or the other must die. where is theresa?”

van curter pointed to the door of the next room. the young man rose, pushed open the door, and entered. theresa sat at a table, engaged in some household duty. she looked up with an odd sort of smile as he entered.

“have you no welcome for me, theresa?” he asked, in a tone of passionate entreaty.

“would it not be better, joseph, for us to cease at once at playing friendship, when i, at least, have not a spark of respect for you in my heart?”

“when did i become so hateful to you?” he asked, in a low tone.

“i was afraid of you always; but the time from which i ceased to hold even respect toward you was when you struck your hand upon this table, and swore to kill willie barlow.”

“you do not remember, theresa, that those words were spoken in the heat of passion, aroused by your refusal of me. would a man with any heart have said less? listen to me, theresa van curter, and mark my words well. you have it in your power to make for yourself and for me a glorious destiny. i have influence in the old world. there is nothing i can not claim in the way of honor and wealth. my love for you is so entire that you can shape me as you will. my nature only needs a guiding hand—a loving, tender, womanly hand like yours. be my wife. we will turn our backs forever upon this new country and all its bad associations, and make a new life in our own fatherland.”

theresa mused. his appeal had been so impassioned, so full of heart, that it was not in her nature to hurt his feelings. he noted her indecision:

“you hesitate, my darling! i have not given you time enough. you want more. take it. weeks, months, a year! i can wait, only give me some hope, and promise that you will no longer listen to this plotting englishman.”

[84]

“do not deceive yourself, joseph,” she said. “it is not in my power to do as you ask. spare me any longer speech upon the subject. it is only just to me that you should cease.”

“you are hasty; you should take time.”

“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.”

[85]

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.

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.

[86]

“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.

but fire soon burns out when the fuel is scant. hans,[87] conceiving that he had done his duty to the state of holland, submitted to be bound, after knocking down his man. this left four men to two. paul was overpowered in a moment; but ten eyck retreated to a corner, from which he menaced all who dared approach with the poker. this at first excited laughter on the part of the men, but soon turned to anger at his pertinacity. he stood near the fire and thrust the poker into the hot coals when it was likely to become cool.

“this dutchman is too hot,” said one of the men. “let us cool him.”

a large tub of dirty water stood in one corner of the room. two of the men brought this and placed it in front of the obdurate hollander.

“will you give up?” cried the leader.

“nein!” replied ten eyck. “never so long as i pe shoost as i am.”

“lift her, boys!” was the order. the two men raised the tub from the floor. “one—two—three—and away!”

the contents of the tub were discharged upon the person of ten eyck, cooling his ardor and poker at the same time. as he stood there, with the water running in streams from every angle upon his figure, the men threw themselves upon him, and tied him neck and heels.

“that job is done,” said the leader. “now, boys, follow me, but you, seth mather, had better stay with the prisoners.”

one of the men sat down to keep guard, and the rest passed out into the open space within the works. the rest of the men stood there, waiting for the issue of the work upon the first house. the leader reported.

“you have done well,” said holmes. “very well, indeed. let us hail this house.”

he approached the building in which van curter was, with the strongest party in the works. in answer to his hail, van curter himself came to the window.

“who is there?” he cried.

“king george and captain holmes, of windsor.”

“to what am i to attribute the honor of this visit?”

“to my ardent desire to return your late courteous visit to my quarters. it’s a reciprocation of favors. we yankees never like to be in debt long for such things.”

[88]

“bah! you talk too much, like all englishmen. do you design to take this post?”

“i do. i have now more men than you. counting the wounded, those taken prisoners at the first rush, and those in yonder house, half your force is out of the battle. you have just seventeen men.”

“you are well informed.”

“i always aim to be so. do you surrender?”

“give me an hour to consider?”

“i will give you five minutes.”

“your demands are hard. what are your terms?”

“you will find them easy. you shall have permission to march out under your own colors, with your arms and personal property. we want nothing but the house of good hope.”

“we shall keep our colors?”

“yes, even to the red color of your noses.”

“and our side-arms?”

“every thing that is dutch.”

“in short, all you demand is the surrender of the work itself?”

“precisely; clear out—that is all.”

“then i will open the door; your terms are generous, and i believe are made in good faith.”

“you must submit to be imprisoned in one of the houses until all your men are in my hands.”

“i will attend to that,” said van curter. “place a guard upon my men here and come with me.”

the doors were thrown open. the ten men were placed in a room by themselves and a guard placed over them. holmes, willie and van curter now proceeded toward the other house, and van curter called the name of captain van zandt. he knew the voice and came to the window immediately.

“is that you, van curter?” he asked.

“it is i; open.”

“are the english gone?”

“no.”

“then why are you here?”

“i have surrendered.”

[89]

“coward!”

“be careful, sir! i repeat, i have surrendered the place. it was useless to resist. the terms are noble. we are to be allowed to march out with drums and colors, and make our way to the islands. our private property is ours. in short, better terms were never given. therefore open your doors and give yourselves up.”

“i never drew a cowardly breath in my life, van curter. this house is my castle; i will keep it against all who come against it.”

“i tell you i have surrendered,” shouted van curter.

“and i tell you that i have not! and, what is more, i don’t intend to. i have a strong house, and the best of your men, and the morning is at hand. i will give a good account of myself, and drive the ragamuffins of captain holmes back to their filthy quarters.”

“you use modest terms,” said holmes.

“ah-ha. you are there, yankee? i give you good-night.”

“you refuse to surrender?”

“yes; refuse to the bitter end.”

“then we must make you do it.”

“do it if you can.”

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