In the first place, for the very natural and obvious reason that he
grudged every moment of immunity from punishment enjoyed by men who
had put him to such an open shame. The other and less obvious reason
was the expected return of Squire Sedgwick from Boston. Sedgwick had
been gone a week. He might be absent a week or two weeks more, but he
might return any day. One thing was evident to Jahleel Woodbridge.
Before this man returned, of whose growing and rival influence he had
already so much reason to be jealous, he must have put an end to
anarchy in Stockbridge, and once more stand at the head of its
government. Sedgwick had warned him of the explosive state of popular
feeling: he had resented that warning, and the event had proved his
rival right. The only thing now left him was to show Sedgwick that if
he had not been able to foresee the rebellion, he had been able to
suppress it. Nevertheless he would proceed cautiously.
The red flag of the sheriff had for some weeks waved from the gable
end of a small house on the main street, owned by a Baptist cobbler,
one David Joy. There were quite a number of Baptists among the Welsh
iron-workers at West Stockbridge, and some Methodists, but none of
either heresy save David in Stockbridge, which, with this exception
was, as a parish, a Congregational lamb without blemish.
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