As he said this, Gabriel felt a thrill, for he remembered a Mysterious Woman who had saved his life in America.  After a moment’s silence, he resumed:  “My mission terminated, I returned hither to beg, father, that you would release me from my vows.  Many times but in vain, I solicited an interview.  Yesterday, it pleased Providence that I should have a long conversation with my adopted mother; from her I learned the trick by which my vocation had been forced upon me—­and the sacrilegious abuse of the confessional, by which she had been induced to entrust to other persons the orphans that a dying mother had confided to the care of an honest soldier.  You understand, father, that, if even I had before hesitated to break these bonds, what I have heard yesterday must have rendered my decision irrevocable.  But at this solemn moment, father, I am bound to tell you, that I do not accuse the whole Society; many simple, credulous, and confiding men, like myself, must no doubt form part of it.  Docile instruments, they see not in their blindness the work to which they are destined.  I pity them, and pray God to enlighten them, as he has enlightened me.”

“So, my son,” said Father d’Aigrigny, rising with livid and despairing look, “you come to ask of me to break the ties which attach you to the Society?”

“Yes, father; you received my vows—­it is for you to release me from them.”

“So, my son, you understand that engagements once freely taken by you, are now to be considered as null and void?”

“Yes, father.”

“So, my son, there is to be henceforth nothing in common between you and our Company?”

“No, father—­since I request you to absolve me of my vows.”

“But, you know, my son, that the Society may release you—­but that you cannot release yourself.”

“The step I take proves to you, father, the importance I attach to an oath, since I come to you to release me from it.  Nevertheless, were you to refuse me, I should not think myself bound in the eyes of God or man.”

“It is perfectly clear,” said Father d’Aigrigny to Rodin, his voice expiring upon his lips, so deep was his despair.

Suddenly, whilst Gabriel, with downcast eyes, waited for the answer of Father d’Aigrigny, who remained mute and motionless, Rodin appeared struck with a new idea, on perceiving that the reverend father still held in his hand the note written in pencil.  The socius hastily approached Father d’Aigrigny, and said to him in a whisper, with a look of doubt and alarm:  “Have you not read my note?”

“I did not think of it,” answered the reverend father, mechanically.

Rodin appeared to make a great effort to repress a movement of violent rage.  Then he said to Father d’Aigrigny, in a calm voice:  “Read it now.”

Hardly had the reverend father cast his eyes upon this note, than a sudden ray of hope illumined his hitherto despairing countenance.  Pressing the hand of the socius with an expression of deep gratitude, he said to him in a low voice:  “You are right.  Gabriel is ours.”