The monk treated this as an excellent jest and repeated it to his companion, as though Edward's fluent Chinese needed translation. He asked the other usual questions, how old they were, who were their family, where they were going, but to every word he gave an impertinent accent which Nancy could not keep from resenting.
"Let's go," she said to Edward in English, "I don't want any more tea."
"You are foreigners," exclaimed the monk in triumph, convinced by this utterance of an unfamiliar tongue.
"We are not foreigners," Edward stoutly objected; "my father is a Chinese official."
The man laughed again.
"I don't like him," said Nancy, again in English.
"Pooh," was Edward's response, "you can't expect manners from a priest."
"I don't care. I am not going to stay any longer. We shall never get home."
Edward stood up too, apologizing profusely because he had brought no money and promising faithfully that he would recompense their trouble on his next visit. The monks would not hear of excuses; they would never have considered taking money for so mean an act of simple hospitality. The boy, of course, knew their words were spoken merely from politeness, but he felt so encouraged by their affable courtesy as to inquire the shortest way to the ridge they were seeking.
"Oh, from our back door it is only a few steps," replied his yellow-toothed host. "I'll show you."