"I promise," said Antonio, deeply moved. And, try as he would, he could say no more.
After a long time she raised her head abruptly and challenged his eyes. By the pallor which blanched her cheeks he divined her question, and he knew that the bitterest moment of his life was come.
"So there is no room for me?" she asked in low, vibrating tones. "No room for Isabel as well as for your Bride? You send me away?"
He tried to be cool; but the flame of her pure heart's yearning so scorched him that he cried out:
"No, I do not send you away. It is not my will; it is God's. He knows, Isabel, He knows that all the sacrifices I have ever made and all the trials I have ever borne are as a few grains of dust compared with this. I do not send you away. But you must go. Our spirits are willing to take high and holy vows, here and now; but we are flesh and we are weak. You must go. You must. You will."
She arose slowly and stood upright. Instantly he did the same. He seized her hand; but before he could speak, she said quietly:
"I will go. After this, unless miracles happen, you will only see me with Mrs. Baxter or with my father. But, before I go, do me one little kindness. I promise that, so long as I live, it shall be a secret between us. I know your heart. Once, only once, let me hear you say that you love me."
Antonio knew that he loved her indeed, with a love whereof he had no cause to be ashamed, and that he must speak the three little words she craved. He began to frame a prudent preface which should precisely qualify them and empty them of all their association with profane passion. But his knightly blood stirred in time and saved him. Besides, he knew that he might safely speak the words and trust Isabel not to abuse them. He bent to her ear and said simply:
"I love you."
For a long moment she stood with closed eyes and did not stir. Then she gently freed her hand and moved away. Antonio followed her. Wherever the paths were wide enough they walked side by side; but although the way was long they did not speak. Here and there in the wood there were low boughs to be held aside, and once the monk had to lift her bodily across a little brook; but he did all these things as a matter of course, without a word. When the guest-house gleamed through the trees, Antonio halted and would have uttered the few sentences he had been arranging in his brain; but she silenced him with a gentle gesture and walked across the broad path, up the sunny steps, and through the wide-open doorway, without a glance behind.