"Very true, sister," says the prior.
She put a hundred questions, one after another, and the traveler answered always pertinently.
The report was soon spread that there was a Huron at the priory. All the genteel company of the country came to supper. The abbot of St. Yves came with Miss, his sister, a fine, handsome, well-educated girl. The bailiff, the tax-gatherer, and their wives, came all together. The foreigner was seated between Miss Kerkabon and Miss St. Yves. The company eyed him with admiration. They all questioned him together. This did not confound the Huron. He seemed to have taken Lord Bolingbroke's motto, Nil admirari. But at last, tired out with so much noise, he told them in a sweet, but serious tone:
"Gentlemen, in my country one talks after another. How can I answer you, if you will not allow me to hear you?"
Reasoning always brings people to a momentary reflection. They were all silent.
Mr. Bailiff, who always made a property of a foreigner wherever he found him, and who was the first man for asking questions in the province, opening a mouth of large size, began:
"Sir, what is your name?"
"I have always been called the Ingenu," answered the Huron; "and the English have confirmed that name, because I always speak as I think, and act as I like."
"But, being born a Huron, how could you come to England?"
"I have been carried thither. I was made prisoner by the English after some resistance, and the English, who love brave people, because they are as brave and honest as we, proposed to me, either to return to my family, or go with them to England. I accepted the latter, having naturally a relish for traveling."