For a long time both were silent, Juan in amazement, perhaps in consternation; Carlos in deep thankfulness. His confession was made, and his brother loved him still.
At last Juan spoke, slowly and as if half bewildered. "The Sieur de Ramenais believes in God, and in our Lord and his passion. And you?"
Carlos repeated the Apostles' Creed in the vulgar tongue.
"And in Our Lady, Mary, Mother of God?"
"I believe that she was the most blessed among women, the holiest among the holy saints. Yet I ask her intercession no more. I am too well assured of His love who says to me; and to all who keep his word, 'My brother, my sister, my mother.'"
"I thought devotion to Our Lady was the surest mark of piety," said Juan, in utter perplexity. "Then, I am only a man of the world. But oh, my brother, this is frightful!" He paused a moment, then added more calmly, "Still, I have learned that Huguenots are not beasts with horns and hoofs; but, possibly, brave and honourable men enough, as good, for this world, as their neighbours. And yet--the disgrace!" His dark cheek flushed, then grew pale, as there rose before his mind's eye an appalling vision--his brother robed in a hideous sanbenito, bearing a torch in the ghastly procession of an auto-da-fé! "You have kept your secret as your life? My uncle and his family suspect nothing?" he asked anxiously.
"Nothing, thank God."
"And who taught you this accursed--these doctrines?"
Carlos briefly told the story of his first acquaintance with the Spanish New Testament; suppressing, however, all mention of the personal sorrow that had made its teaching so precious to him; nor did he think it expedient to give the name of Juliano Hernandez.
"The Church may need reform. I am sure she does," Juan candidly admitted. "But Carlos, my brother," he added, while the expression of his face softened gradually into mournful, pitying tenderness, "little brother, in old times so gentle, so timid, hast thou dreamed--of the peril? I speak not now of the disgrace--God wot that is hard enough to think of--hard enough," he repeated bitterly. "But the peril?"