It was now the young man’s turn to be perplexed. The lieutenant, who had been listening to the argument, knit his brows. The little man with the black beard made ready to combat or support Father Dámaso’s arguments, while the Dominican was content to remain entirely neutral.
“But do you believe——,” the young man finally asked in a curious mood, and looking straight at the friar.
“Do I believe it? As I do the Gospel! The native is so indolent!”
“Ah! Pardon me for interrupting you,” said the young blonde, lowering his voice and drawing his chair closer, “but you have spoken a word that arouses my interest. Is this indolence an inherent characteristic of the native, or is it true, as a foreign traveller has said in speaking of a country whose inhabitants are of the same race as these, that this indolence is only a fabrication to excuse our own laziness, our backwardness and the faults of our celestial system?”
“Bah! That is nothing but envy! Ask Señor Laruja, who knows this country very well, whether the native has his equal in the world for indolence and ignorance.”
“It is a fact,” replied the little man referred to, “that nowhere in the world can any one be found more indolent than the native. Positively nowhere!”
“Nor more vicious and ungrateful!”
“Nor with less education!”
Somewhat uneasy, the blonde man began to glance about the room. “Gentlemen,” he said in a low voice, “I believe that we are in the house of a native, and these young ladies may——”
“Bah! Don’t be so sensitive. How long have you been in the country?”