“I cannot believe that,” I replied; “look at the martyrs who have perished in the flames for an opinion.”

“Yes,” he said, “it is easy to die in an ecstasy of enthusiasm for a creed, with all the world looking on; to exchange life for eternal glory; but put the virgin, who would face without shrinking the flames or the wild beasts of the arena, into some wretched garret, in some miserable alley, surrounded by the low, the ignorant, the vile; close every avenue and prospect of hope; shut off every ennobling thought or sight or deed; and then subject the emaciated frame to endless toil and hopeless hunger, and the very fibers of the soul will rot under the debasing ordeal; and there is nothing left but the bare animal, that must be fed at whatever sacrifice.  And remember, my dear fellow, that chastity is a flower of civilization.  Barbarism knows nothing of it.  The woman with the least is, among many tribes, mostly highly esteemed, and sought after by the young men for wedlock.”

“My dear Maximilian,” I said, “these are debasing views to take of life.  Purity is natural to woman.  You will see it oftentimes among savages.  But, to recur to the subject we were speaking of.  I feel very confident that the younger of those two women I saw in that carriage is pure.  God never placed such a majestic and noble countenance over a corrupt soul.  The face is transparent; the spirit looks out of the great eyes; and it is a spirit of dignity, nobleness, grace and goodness.”

“Why,” said he, laughing, “the barbed arrow of Master Cupid, my dear Gabriel, has penetrated quite through all the plates of your philosophy.”

“I will not confess that,” I replied; “but I will admit that I would like to know something more about that young lady, for I never saw a face that interested me half so much.”

“Now,” said he, “see what it is to have a friend.  I can find out for you all that is known about her.  We have members of our society in the household of every rich man in New York.  I will first find out who she is.  I will ask the Master of the Servants, who is a member of our Brotherhood, who were the two ladies out riding at the time of our adventure.  I can communicate with him in cipher.”

He went to the wall; touched a spring; a door flew open; a receptacle containing pen, ink and paper appeared; he wrote a message, placed it in an interior cavity, which connected with a pneumatic tube, rang a bell, and in a few minutes another bell rang, and he withdrew from a similar cavity a written message.  He read out to me the following: 

“The elder lady, Miss Frederika Bowers; the younger, Miss Estella Washington; both members of the Prince of Cabano’s household.”

“Estella Washington,” I repeated; “a noble name.  Can you tell me anything about her?”

“Certainly,” he replied; “we have a Bureau of Inquiry connected with our society, and we possess the most complete information, not only as to our own members, but as to almost every one else in the community of any note.  Wait a moment.”