"Not come any more! not see you any more, Isaure! Do you think that it would be possible for me to exist away from you?"
As he spoke, Edouard took the girl’s hands and pressed them fondly in his; then they sat down together at the foot of a tree, and gazed at each other for some time in silence. But one can speak so eloquently with the eyes!
"You did not come yesterday?" said the girl at last.
"No, it was impossible; there was company, a party, at the château at which we are staying! But how long the day seemed to me, amid all that noise, with those people for whom I care nothing, those pleasures in which I could take no part, because I was thinking of you, of you alone, with whom I am so happy!"
"The time seemed very long to me, too; I was bored. I looked very often at the road by which you come. You have accustomed me to seeing you; you have done wrong, for after all, you will not always remain in this region, and then I shall not see you any more, and it seems to me that I shall not be so happy as I used to be."
"Dear Isaure! But would it be to me or to Alfred that you would give the keenest regrets? To-day I have come without him, I am defying his anger, for I am determined to know at last what I may hope. Yes, yes, I love you, Isaure; I feel for you the most passionate, the most sincere love; I have tried for some time to fight against it; but I feel that it is impossible for me, I feel that this love is now a part of my existence. And why should I fear to give myself up to it? I am free, I am my own master; and if you love me, who can object to our union? But it is necessary that you should love me, that you should prefer me to Alfred. Oh! speak, confess to me frankly what is taking place in your heart. Isaure, you would not, you could not, deceive me."
Isaure timidly cast down her eyes, and withdrew her hand from Edouard’s, faltering:
"So it is true! You do love me? He did not deceive me?"
"Who, pray?"
"That poor man—you know, that stranger who is wandering about our mountains."