The Witch of Blackbird Pond - Elizabeth George Speare [24]
"Is it always so chilly in New England, even in May?"
William considered this. "I think this spring is a bit warmer than usual," he decided.
As though in answer to her urgent prayer for relief, a knock sounded on the outside door, and as Aunt Rachel went to answer, Kit heard John Holbrook's voice. Her aunt welcomed him cordially, and in a few moments put her head in at the parlor door, her understanding glance taking in the two silent young people.
"Why don't you both come and join us?" she suggested. "John Holbrook has come to call, and we can pop some corn for a treat." Bless Aunt Rachel!
Over a handful of fluffy white kernels William relaxed a trifle. There was something irresistible about popcorn. John, his pale cheeks flushed with the heat, managed the long shaker with a practiced hand. Judith blossomed suddenly in the firelight, and her laughter was infectious. Mercy's eyes were shining with pleasure. Rachel, with a ghost of the charm she must once have possessed, succeeded in drawing William, if not actually into the circle, at least to its warm circumference. Even Matthew unbent enough to ask courteously, "Does your father have all his field sown?"
"Yes, sir," replied William.
"Notice he's cutting some trees up Vexation way."
"Yes, I'm planning to build my house come autumn. We have marked some good white oak for the clapboards."
Kit stared at him. William had not spoken so many words all the evening. Aunt Rachel encouraged him.
"My husband tells me you have been appointed a Viewer of Fences," she smiled. "That is a fine honor for so young a man."
"Thank you, ma'am."
"With all the new land grants I've been hearing of, that will be an important duty," added Mercy helpfully.
"Yes," agreed William. "The Assembly has voted that there should be no unclaimed land left in all Hartford County."
"A wise move," put in Matthew. "Why should we leave land for the King's governor to grant to his favorites?"
William turned to the older man respectfully. "Are you not afraid, sir," he asked, "that we are likely to anger the King the more by such hasty actions?"
"Are you so afraid to anger the King?" scoffed Matthew.
"No, sir, but we cannot hope to hold out against him. If we submit to his governor now, without a struggle, are we not more likely to retain for ourselves some rights and privileges? By provoking his anger we may lose them all."
Kit could scarcely believe her ears. William Ashby was neither speechless nor dim-witted. He even dared to stand up to her uncle! With new respect she moved to pass him the wooden bowl of popcorn, and to it she added a smile that caused him to lapse again into scarlet-faced silence. Matthew Wood did not notice the interruption.
"Surrender our charter and we lose all," he thundered. "That charter was given to Connecticut by King Charles twenty-five years ago. It guarantees every right and privilege we have earned, the very ground we stand on and the laws we have made for ourselves. King James has no right to go back on his brother's pledge. What do you say, Master Holbrook? Or has your teacher poisoned your mind as well?"
"I believe we should keep the charter, sir," John's eyes were on the fire, and his voice sounded troubled. "But Dr. Bulkeley says that Connecticut has misinterpreted the charter. His knowledge of the law is so wide. He says that justice is not always served by our courts and—"
"Bah!" Matthew Wood pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. "Justice! What do you young men? know about rights and justice? A soft life is all you have ever known. Have you felled the trees in a wilderness and built a home with your bare hands? Have you fought off the wolves and the Indians? Have you frozen and starved through a single winter? The men who made this town understood justice. They knew better than to look for it in the King's favor. The only rights worth all that toil and sacrifice are the rights of free men, free and equal under God to decide their own