Bernard and his sister, on their arrival, found only Mr. Armstrong
and his daughter, but were joined, in the course of the evening, by
Pownal, at whose arrival all expressed pleasure. The whole company
united with Miss Armstrong in requesting Bernard to read the legend,
who, at last, produced the manuscript from his pocket.

"I must entreat your indulgence," he said, "for the defects of which
the piece is full. The author is an inexperienced writer, and
unable, like an accomplished hand, to atone by elegance of style for
improbability or poverty of incident. You will expect no more than
that he should observe the proprieties of his subject, nor require him
to introduce into a tale of the children of Nature the refinement
of language or delicacy of sentiment, to be met with in the modern
romance. The stories of an uncivilized people must be rude, even
approaching in simplicity tales designed for children."

"The writer could not have an audience more ready to be pleased," said
Mr. Armstrong; "and are we not all children of various growths?"

"I do not believe any excuses are necessary," said Faith, "and am
expecting a great deal of pleasure."

"The more extravagant, the better," cried Anne. "What can equal the
Arabian Nights Entertainment?"

"We are all attention," said Pownal; "so whistle your apprehensions,
Bernard, to the wind."

Thus encouraged, the young man opened his manuscript, and commenced
reading.