“What’s that you’re saying, Caleb?” said Martha, now perceived back at her house-door.
“He was telling me about the Lightstand,” said Jinny glibly.
Martha beamed again. “Ah, it won’t be long before that light spreads, though now the world is all shrouded in darkness and superstition. But salvation is of the Jews.”
“That ain’t writ in the Book?” inquired Caleb anxiously.
“Salvation is of the Jews,” repeated Martha implacably. “John iv. 22. There’s nine of us now in Essex alone, the Lightstand says, not reckoning London. They don’t know about another that’s on the way Zionwards,” she added mysteriously.
“Meaning me?” said Caleb nervously.
“Meaning a man with brains and book-learning,” said Martha sternly, “and he’s ready to see you now, Jinny.”
“Well, nine ain’t no great shakes,” Caleb murmured.
“We are the salt of the earth,” Martha reminded him. “A pinch of salt goes a long way.”
“Ay, when it rolls in a pill-box,” Caleb reflected ruefully. “And hows the old chapel, Jinny?” he said aloud. “Willy never goos now.”