"How glorious stand the valiant, sword in hand,
In front of battle for their native land!"

It was into this thundery atmosphere of coming conflict, of hopes and
doubts, of sundering ties and fearful looking forward, that Richard and
Katherine Hyde came, from the idyllic peace and beauty of their Norfolk
house. But there was something in it that fitted Hyde's real
disposition. He was a natural soldier, and he had arrived at the period
of life when the mere show and pomp of the profession had lost all
satisfying charm. He had found a quarrel worthy of his sword, one that
had not only his deliberate approval, but his passionate sympathy. In
fact, his first blow for American independence had been struck in the
duel with Lord Paget; for that quarrel, though nominally concerning Lady
Suffolk, was grounded upon a dislike engendered by their antagonism
regarding the government of the Colonies.

It was an exquisite April morning when they sailed up New York bay once
more. Joris had been watching for the "Western Light;" and when she came
to anchor at Murray's Wharf, his was the foremost figure on it. He had
grown a little stouter, but was still a splendid-looking man; he had
grown a little older, but his tenderness for his daughter was still
young and fresh and strong as ever. He took her in his arms, murmuring,
"Mijn Katrijntje, mijn Katrijntje! Ach, mijn kind, mijn kind!"