but Uzal be right about her husband and the Committee, Ma—Master Hedden's daughter—o' the Town by the River—she did tell me Samuel Williams was under watch! Master Hedden hath been appointed to enforce the oath o' allegiance, ye mind!"
"Is't true, indeed!" Mistress Ball's voice was shocked. "Well, mayhap 'tis best to be watchful o' our tongues this day. Ye, too, Sally," she turned to the listening girl, "for we do not know friend from foe this hard year!"
But that afternoon, looking around the Williamses' big, pleasant kitchen where Mistress Mary's guests—a dozen or so neighbor women—had informally gathered, Sally thought there could be no doubt that all were friends. Such a hum of voices, such merry laughter, such a click of knitting needles that flashed in the sunshine stealing in through tiny-paned windows, for pleasure gatherings were few and far between, nowadays, and everyone was determined to get the most fun possible out of this. The dusk came early to that house, however—soon shadows were stealing out from every corner, for, built long ago, in 1730, by old Amos Williams, it nestled so near to the foot of the First Mountain, and had so few windows in its thick stone walls—glass was too expensive!—that the sunshine departed early, and even the brightest day found the house interior gloomy and dark.
