"Love them, sir! They are infidels, and therefore the good Christian must only hate them.

They are thieves--they will steal from you before your very face, so devoid are they of all shame.

And also murderers; gladly would they burn this poor thatch above my head, and kill me and my poor grandchild, who shares this solitary life with me, if they had the courage.

But they are all arrant cowards, and fear to approach me--fear even to come into this wood.

You would laugh to hear what they are afraid of--a child would laugh to hear it!" "What do they fear ?" I said, for his words had excited my interest in a great degree.
"Why, sir, would you believe it?
They fear this child--my granddaughter, seated there before you.