The room into which they had been shown was a large one. At one end was an enormous fireplace, over which was a marble piece containing a store of curiosities, such as shells and stones of peculiar shape. There was no carpet on the floor, but a number of home-made rugs covered the middle of it. The chairs were old-fashioned, high-backed, rush-seated constructions, singularly comfortable, however, and in every way adapted to carry out the intention of a chair to the utmost perfection. A large wooden settee stood opposite the fireplace. Overhead the rafters were bare, and nails were driven in them, from which hung a store of domestic goods, such as skeins of yarn and flitches of bacon. The partitions of the room were of boards, and upon these were pasted a great variety of pictures, which Mr. Grousset had probably obtained from some stray illustrated paper, that had penetrated to this place, and fallen into his hands. These pictures had a modern character, which was somewhat out of keeping with the rest of the interior; but after all, there was a simplicity in such a mode of decoration which took away the sense of discord that might otherwise have been felt. After a short absence the old man returned, and, seating himself, began to talk with the boys, occasionally translating to his wife and granddaughter what they said. He asked them all where they came from, and Bart narrated their recent adventures, while the old man listened with the greatest interest. “We all belong to the same school,” said Bart, at length, in answer to the old man’s question; for he was puzzled to know how they had come together from such remote places. “We belong to the same school. Our school is in a place that you may have heard of. It is Grand Pré.” At this name the old man started and stared at them. “What?” he asked. “Grand Pré,” repeated Bart. “Grand Pré!” exclaimed the old man. “Grand Pré? What! On the Basin of Minas?” “Yes.” “Grand Ciel!” exclaimed the other. “And you have been there! And you have lived there! How easy it must be to go there! And I was never there--never! Alas! why did I not go to see, that place when I was a young man?” His emotion was so strong that his wife asked him the cause. He explained. And Bart noticed that the old lady and the granddaughter both looked at them with deeper interest as they repeated the name--Grand Pré! “None of my countrymen live there now, I suppose.” said the old man, looking at Bart interrogatively. Bart shook his head. “Ah, I thought so,” said the old man. “All gone. They had to go. They were banished. They dared not return to that place. They came back, but could not get their homes again. Their houses were burnt up, and their farms were given away to strangers. Ah, Grand Ciel! what injustice! And they so good, so pious, so innocent!” “They were shamefully wronged,” exclaimed Bart, in a burst of indignation,--“most shamefully, most foully wronged!”