“Why, Aunt Rachel? What difference does that make? Has she ever done anything bad?”

Rachel looked down. “No, probably not, but there’s been talk. Quakers bring trouble wherever they go. They speak against our faith. In Boston, I’ve heard, they even hanged some Quakers. This Hannah Tupper and her husband were branded and forced to leave Massachusetts. They were thankful just to be let alone here in Wethersfield. Kit, I know your uncle would be very angry about this. Promise me that you won’t go there again.”

All Kit’s fine thoughts about trying to understand and to be patient have disappeared, and already she felt rebellious again. “I can’t promise that, Aunt Rachel,” she said unhappily. “Hannah was good to me, and she’s very lonely.”

“You are very young, child,” insisted Rachel. “You don’t understand how sometimes evil can seem innocent. It is dangerous for you to see that woman. You must believe me.”

On the way home through the meadow everything had seemed so simple, and here it was all complicated again. Only one thing Kit was sure of. She had found a secret place, a place of freedom, clear sunlight and peace. Nothing and no one would stop her from going back to that place again.

Should she tell William Ashby about Hannah? No, he would probably be horrified. William was still a stranger to her, although he came every Saturday evening and even on some evenings during the week. She would like to tell John Holbrook, she thought, but there was never a moment when she could speak to him alone. John often joined the family as they sat outside in the evening. He had never asked formal permission to come. There had never been any sign that John was seeing Judith, but sometimes he agreed to her proposal to go for a walk in the twilight. That was all Judith needed to show the whole family John’s intentions. Even her father could tell that Judith was in love, although she had never said anything. Kit thought that, compared to ambitious William, the young biblical scholar was unsuitable for Judith’s high hopes. Probably, Kit decided now, it wouldn’t be good to tell John about Hannah Tupper.

Soon Kit started waiting for another opportunity to visit the Meadows. With Mr. Kimberley’s permission she was teaching the school again. There were no more stories, no games, not even small poems. After school the girls weeded the gardens and helped to harvest the first crop. Finally, one hot afternoon, Kit and Judith finished their weeding of onion rows a little early. As they started walking back along the path, Kit looked across the fields to the house by Blackbird Pond and knew what she would do now. “I am going there to see Hannah Tupper,” she informed Judith.

“The witch? Are you crazy, Kit?” her cousin protested.

“She’s not a witch! She’s just a lonely old woman, and you would like her if you knew her,” Kit said. “Come with me now and see for yourself.”

“I would never step inside that house, and I don’t think you should either. Father would be furious,” refused Judith.

“Then go home without me. I won’t be long,” said Kit and started walking through the long grass, leaving her cousin standing in the path.

“Sit down, child,” Hannah welcomed Kit in, smiling as if she was expecting her. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, I think so. The schoolmaster let me teach again, but forbade any plays. Mr. Kimberley says that children are evil by nature and that they need a firm hand. But it’s not much fun to be so solemn all day.”

Hannah was sorting some flax now. Kit picked up the sleeping cat. The late afternoon sun shone through the open door. Peace flowed into Kit, and she felt warm and happy. “Did you grow the flax yourself?” she asked.

“Some of the families in town bring me their flax to spin,” Hannah explained. “I don’t charge them much – just enough to pay the land taxes and the fines for not going to Meeting.”

“Fines?” Kit was surprised. “Maybe you should go to Meeting instead?”

“They wouldn’t welcome me,” Hannah said, “even if I decided to go. In Massachusetts we, Quakers, had our own meetings.”

“Actually, I’d rather pay fines than go to Meeting. Can I become a Quaker too?”

But before the old woman could answer, a shadow fell across the sunlit floor.

A tall figure was standing in the doorway. Kit jumped up. There, at the door, unbelievably, was Nathaniel Eaton, the captain’s son, with a smile in his blue eyes. “I might have known,” he said, “that you two would find each other.”

Hannah’s face shone with pleasure. “I knew you would come today,” she said. “I saw the Dolphin pass the island this morning. Kit, my dear, this is the sailor friend I told you about.”

Nat bowed. “Mistress Tyler and I are already acquainted,” he said.