The speech would have stung him had he not remembered her behavior in his cell, twelve days before, and her evident persuasion that monks and nuns were only picturesque archaisms, with no serious existence outside the pages of novelists and the dreams of pious sentimentalists. But he did not give her time to expand her flippancy.
"Let us go," he said.
They went. For about twenty paces the paved causeway which led to the little door gave them dry foothold. Thenceforward, however, the paths to the guest-house had become rushing streams. Even without the aid of the lightning one could see gleaming water everywhere. Isabel glanced down dolefully at her feet.
"We can't," she said.
"We must," he insisted.
"Look at my shoes," she moaned.
Antonio considered again. Then he asked:
"You will let me carry you?"
"If we can't wait," she answered, after a long pause, "and if you're sure there's no other way ... you may carry me."
He stepped down from the causeway and bent his back so that she could seat herself upon his shoulder.