"Oh, my God!" murmured Antonine, turning pale and leaning for support on the back of the rustic bench. "Oh, my God!"
And, unable to utter another word, she burst into tears. After a heartrending silence, she said:
"And you hoped for the consent of the prince, Frantz."
"Alas! I hoped to obtain it by simply telling him how much I loved you, and how much you deserved that love. The prince is inflexible."
"To go away,—to be separated from each other, Frantz," murmured Antonine, in a broken voice; "but it is not possible,—it would kill us both with sorrow, and the prince would not do that."
"His will is inflexible; but whatever may happen," cried Frantz, falling at the young girl's knees, "yes, although I am a foreigner here, without family, without knowing what may be the consequence, I will stay in spite of the prince. Have courage, Antonine—"
Frantz could not continue; he saw a light shining in the distance, and a voice in great pain called:
"Mlle. Antonine!"
"My God! that is my uncle's nurse,—she is looking for me!" cried the young girl; then, turning to Frantz, she said, "Frantz, if you go away, I shall die."