ission 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