Summary

Portrait of Voltaire Voltaire The Huron; or, Pupil of Nature

The merciless bailiff had now grown so furious that he even asked the Huron what religion he was of; whether he had chosen the English, the French, or that of the Huguenots?
"I am of my own religion," said he, "just as you are of yours."
"Lord!" cried Miss Kerkabon, "I see already that those wretched English have not once thought of baptizing him!"
"Good heavens!" said Miss St. Yves, "how is it possible? How is it possible the Hurons should not be Roman Catholics? Have not those reverend fathers, the Jesuits, converted all the world?"
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Voltaire Voltaire The Huron; or, Pupil of Nature

Yves almost kissed the knees of the ingenuous Huron, who, by the by, was no longer ingenuous. The language of the eyes formed all the discourse of the two lovers, who, nevertheless, expressed every sentiment with which they were penetrated. Satisfaction and acknowledgment sparkled in the countenance of the one, while embarrassment was depicted in Miss St. Yves's melting, but half averted, eyes. Every one was astonished that she should mingle grief with so much joy.
The venerable Gordon soon endeared himself to the whole family.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Voltaire Voltaire The Huron; or, Pupil of Nature

Sentiment had made as rapid a progress in her mind as reason had in that of her lover.
Her dress was dictated by the greatest simplicity. She viewed with horror the trappings with which she had appeared before her fatal benefactor. Her companion had taken the earrings without her having looked at them. Anxious and confused, idolizing the Huron and detesting herself, she at length arrived at the gate of that dreadful castle—the palace of vengeance—where crimes and innocence are alike immured.
Source: Wikisource

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