"Your oath is accepted," said the guide. Consuelo was led, as before, into the cavern. Presently she was told to halt, and an unknown voice said:
"Remove the bandage yourself. Henceforth none will watch you, and you will have no guardian but your own word."
Consuelo found herself in an arched room, lighted by a single lamp hanging from the roof. A single judge, in a red cloak and livid mask, sat in an old arm-chair, by the side of a table. He was bowed with age, and a few grey locks escaped from his hood. His voice was broken and trembling. The aspect of age changed into respectful deference the fear Consuelo could not repress when she met one of the Invisibles.
"Listen to me," said he, as he bade her seat herself on a stool at some distance. "You are now before your confessor. I am the oldest of the council, and the quiet of my whole life has made my mind as chaste as that of the purest of Catholic priests. I do not lie. If you wish to reject me, however, you are at liberty to do so."
"I receive you," said Consuelo, "with this understanding, that my confession does not implicate that of another!"
"Vain scruple," said the old man. "A scholar does not reveal to a schoolmaster the fault of his comrade, yet a son hurries to tell a father where a brother has erred, because he is aware that the parent represses and corrects the fault, without chastising it. Such, at least, should be the law of every family which seeks to practise this idea. Have you any confidence?"
This question, which sounded not a little arbitrary in the mouth of a stranger, was uttered with such gentleness, and in such a sympathetic tone, that Consuelo, led astray, and moved, replied unhesitatingly, "I have entire confidence."
"Listen then," said the old man. "When you first appeared before us, you made use of the following expression, which we have remembered and weighed:—'It is a strange moral torture for a woman to confess herself before eight men.' Your modesty has been considered. You will confess yourself to me alone, and I will not betray your confidence. I have received full power, (and I am the highest of the council,) to direct you in an affair of a delicate nature, and which has not an indirect connection with your initiation. Will you answer me freely? Will you open your whole heart to me?"
"I will."
"I will not inquire into the past. You have been told that the past does not belong to us. But you have been warned to purify your soul from the moment which marked the commencement of your adoption. You must think of the difficulties and the consequences of this adoption. You are not accountable to me alone, but other things are at stake. Reply then."