While Robin deliberated of whom to inquire respecting his kinsman's dwelling, he was accosted by
the innkeep-er, a little man in a stained white apron, who had come to pay his professional welcome
to the stranger. Being in the second generation from a French Protestant, he seemed to have
inherited the courtesy of his parent nation; but no variety of circumstances was ever known to
change his voice from the one shrill note in which he now addressed Robin.