“Society is fast rushing on its ruin,” the general agreed, “and though some deluded minds refuse to see it, it is none the less certain. You have only to observe one thing, one most significant fact.”
Every one turned to look at the speaker, awaiting the announcement, which might have been a declaration of war to judge from the grave truculence of his face.
“Observe, I say, one fact. When there is any scandal, or rumour of a scandal, who gives rise to it? Mark, I say, who gives rise to it. It is always a man devoid of religion; one of those conceited and infatuated beings who dare to despise the Christian faith, and who may be seen every day flaunting their insolence, and lifting their heads to defy the stars.”
This speech was received with the silence of grave consent; then a question arose between the deputy and the journalist as to whether Leon sinned from indifference or from perversity.
“There is no doubt of it,” said the deputy, “corruption is universal. But while those who cling to the faith are in a position to amend and save their souls, the rationalists are going on straight to ruin. Like Samson, they have pulled the temple about their ears, and, like him, they must perish in the ruins.”
Meanwhile Gustavo and the Marquesa de San Salomó were talking together in too low a voice to be overheard.
“You ought—you must,” she said. “Tell the whole truth to María.”
“The truth? But I cannot trust to appearances. I have not at all made up my mind as to Leon’s guilt. Until I have seen him and talked to him I shall say nothing to my sister.”
“Then I will.”