Again the other young man moved uneasily, the more so as he saw the look of disdain and scorn flitting over the pretty face of Susanna.

“Thee does us an injustice, friend,” he said.  “Was it not Benjamin Franklin who a few months back gave such notable help to General Braddock that he called him the only man of honesty and vigour in all the western world?  But the Lord showed that He would not have us attack our brother men, and Braddock’s army was cut to pieces, and he himself slain.  When the Lord shows us His mind, it is not for us to persist in our evil courses; we must be patient beneath His chastenings.”

“Tush, man! the whole campaign was grossly mismanaged; all the world knows that by now.  But why hark back to the past? it is the present, the future that lie before us.  Are we to let our province become overrun and despoiled by hordes of savage Indians, or are we to rise like men and sweep them back whence they came?  There is the case in a nutshell.  And instead of facing it like men, the Assembly talks and squabbles and wrangles like a pack of silly women!”

“Oh no, Cousin Jack,” quoth Susanna saucily, “say not like women!  Women would make up their minds to action in an hour.  Say rather like men, like men such as Ebenezer loves—­men with the tongues of giants and the spirit of mice; men who speak great swelling words, and boast of their righteousness, but who are put to shame by the brute beasts themselves.  Even a timid hen will be brave when her brood is attacked; but a Quaker cannot be anything but a coward, and will sit with folded hands whilst his own kinsmen perish miserably!”

This was rather too much even for Ebenezer’s phlegmatic spirit.  He seized his broad-brimmed hat and clapped it on his head.

“Thee will be sorry some day, Susanna, for making game of the Quakers, and of the godly ones of the earth,” he spluttered.

“Go thee to the poultry yard, friend Ebenezer,” called Susanna after him; “the old hen there will give thee a warm welcome.  Go and learn from her how to fight.  I warrant thee will learn more from her than thee has ever known before—­more than thine own people will ever teach thee.  Go to the old hen to learn; only I fear thee will soon flee from her with a text in thy mouth to aid thy legs to run!”

“Susanna, Susanna!” cried a voice from within, whilst Jack doubled himself up in a paroxysm of delight, “what are you saying so loud and free?  Come hither, child.  You grow over bold, and I cannot have you in the public room.  With whom are you talking there?”

“There is only Jack here now,” answered Susanna meekly, although the sparkle still gleamed in her eyes; “Ebenezer has just gone out.  I was saying farewell to him.”

“Come back now, and finish setting the table; and if John will stay to supper, he will be welcome.”

John was only too glad, for he took keen pleasure in the society of Susanna, and was fond of the quaint old house where his kinsman lived.  He rose and went into the inner room, where Hannah received him with a smile and a nod.