"Nothing for now, except you should rest.... I suppose Grandmother will have room for us. If not there's Uncle John at Roxbury."
"Last night I saw a part of his letter that Father didn't read aloud. Uncle John must be a great infidel."
"What did he write?"
"'Nor no man, by threat of damnation nor promise of paradise, shall ever betray me into the folly of hating my neighbor, whether in the name of princes who are but men or in the name of a God I know not....' How could anyone write such a thing, unless he...."
"Marry, I don't know. I think—oh, let it be, Ru. He's a good man, we know that.... I suppose he only meant that the general opinion is not his own, that his own religion is in some manner different."
"Yes, maybe.... Ben, is it true 'tis a hundred miles to Boston and Roxbury?"
"More than a hundred, I believe."
"Will the French be coming down this way, you think?"
"They'd be here now, Ru, if that was their mind. Though I did hear Captain Wells saying a few days ago that if the French found the wit and the forces to drive down the river and hold it, they could cut the Massachusetts in half. But, he said, he thought they hadn't the men, nor the wit to think of it. There'll be no Inj'ans here."
"What'll we do—I mean in Springfield, or Roxbury?"