At the station of the next officer to whom it
brought him, the nature of faith was explained to him, and he was given
the password, "Ichthus," whispered so that all in that part of the room
could hear the interdicted syllables. But he was adjured never, never to
utter it, unless to the Guardian of the Portal on entering the lodge, to
the Deacon Militant on the opening thereof, or to a member, when he,
Stevens, should become Sovereign Pontiff. Then he was faced toward the
Vice-Pontiff, and told to answer loudly and distinctly the questions
asked him.
"What is the lesson inculcated in this Degree?" asked the Vice-Pontiff
from the other end of the room.
"Obedience!" shouted Stevens in reply.
"What is the password of this Degree?"
"Ichthus!" responded Stevens.
A roll of stage-thunder sounded deafeningly over his head. The piano was
swept by a storm of bass passion; and deep cries of "Treason! Treason!"
echoed from every side. Poor Stevens tottered, and fell into a chair
placed by the Deacon Militant.
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