“O God, if thou dost exist, let this maiden love me, and let my love for her be always as great as at this moment.”
He felt slightly ashamed at his own emotion, and sought to dismiss it with a smile.
“It’s all nonsense, after all,” he thought.
“Come,” said Sina in a whisper that sounded like a sigh.
Solemnly, as if in their souls they bore away with them all the chanting, and the prayers, the sighs and mystic lights, they went out across the court-yard, side by side, and passed through the little door leading to the mountain-slope. Here there was no living soul. The high white wall and time-worn turrets seemed to shut them out from the world of men. At their feet lay the oak forest; far below shone the river like a mirror of silver, while in the distance fields and meadows were merged in the dim horizon-line.
In silence they advanced to the edge of the slope, aware that they ought to do something, to say something, yet feeling all the while that they had not sufficient courage. Then Sina raised her head, when, unexpectedly yet quite simply and naturally, her lips met Yourii’s. She trembled and grew pale as he gently embraced her, and for the first time felt her warm, supple body in his arms. A bell chimed in that silence. To Yourii it seemed to celebrate the moment in which each had found the other. Sina, laughing, broke away from him and ran back.
“Auntie will wonder what has become of me! Wait here, and I’ll be back soon.”
Afterwards Yourii could never remember if she had said this to him in a loud, clear voice that echoed through the woodland, or if the words had floated to him like a soft whisper on the evening breeze. He sat down on the grass and smoothed his hair with his hand.
“How silly, and yet how delightful it all is!” he thought, smiling. In the distance he heard Sina’s voice.
“I’m coming, auntie, I’m coming.”