"Why, Grandmother, he was a friend to my father. They wrote to one another. Once Uncle John sent me a book."
"He did?" She sat down slowly, little white hands stiff as ivory on the arms of the chair. "That may serve to explain much.... Benjamin, I require you to listen to me if only this once. I have reason to believe that my poor brother John is an atheist. I will trust you did not know this; now you do. He is an old man—as I'm old—and hardened, corrupt with false learning, evil conversation, a blasphemer, often fuddled with drink, a—a fornicator. He hath kept a mistress, at Roxbury, quite openly, under the name of housekeeper—for all I know the whore is there yet. Being wealthy, with friends in high places, none dares deal with him—that's the pass our colony hath arrived at. We builded a Zion; it becometh an abomination, a pen of swine, a nest of adulterers, blasphemers, sodomites, worshippers of the golden calf—vipers.... And now you wish me to allow you and that poor child your brother to go into that—that filthiness. Benjamin, I will hear nothing more about going to my brother at Roxbury. I will not send you to an even worse darkness than you dwelt in at Deerfield."
"We dwelt in no darkness there!"
"Benjamin, be careful!"
The avalanche had him, all fences of caution swept aside. "You have no right to speak so of my father! We will go to Roxbury!"
"Benjamin, stop!"
"And you'll bury Jesse like a dead dog—your Christian charity! Judgments—my father—you lie, lie!"
"Jonas!"
"Wasn't he your son? I believe nothing."
"Jonas! Jonas!"