"There are not so many but that one might look in all of them in the course of a year," said Philip, attentively studying the map. "They seem to have roads, too." "What are you thinking of, my son?" said his mother. "I can see that you have some plan in your head?" "First tell me, dear mother, is it still your wish to go and live in America?" "It is, more than ever if that were possible," said Gertrude, firmly. "I wish we were ready to depart when Brother Gotthold goes next month, but that cannot be." "Then, mother, this is my plan," said Philip: "Let me go out with Brother Gotthold. Once in America, I will visit in turn every town and village in Jersey, and seek everywhere for news of my father. Meantime, I can also be seeking out a home for the rest of you, and making it ready against your coming. Or should I find the country totally unfit for us, I can return, and the loss will be less than if we all went." "How can you come back when you have spent all your money?" asked Greta. "I will go to work and earn more," answered Philip. "I remember Count Maurice said labour was never to seek there." "And if you are burned by the Indians or hung by the Yankees?" said Greta. "There is little danger of that," remarked Brother Gotthold. "The Indians are only troublesome on the western border, and the Americans are a kind and humane people, and very hospitable to strangers." "So old Martin says. He told me that at first, when the Hessian prisoners were sent through the country to the place where they were to be kept, the people railed at them. But the great American general—Washington is his name—caused notice to be published everywhere that the Hessians had not come to fight of their own free will, but because they were forced to do so. After that they were treated with the greatest kindness, the country-people bringing out provisions for them and comforts for the sick and wounded. * If they would do that in time of war, they would not be less kind in time of peace." * See "The Journal of a Hessian Officer," quoted by Irving. "But the people speak English, I understand, Philip, and you know no English." "I must learn what I can on the voyage. I presume some one on the ship will speak it." "I will teach you," said Brother Gotthold. "English is regularly studied in all our schools, as the missionaries never know when they may be sent to some of the English-speaking colonies. I have been making a business of perfecting myself in the language of late, and it will help me greatly to impart what I have learned." It struck Philip as curious that both the preacher and his mother spoke of his proposed journey as already a settled matter. "Perhaps we have talked enough for to-night," said he. "To-morrow we will take it up again." "And if you do go on this wild-goose chase—for such I must say it seems to me—who is to take care of my mother and the farm while you are away?"