And so, without wishing, almost without knowing it, she had descended two or three steps, and drawn on by an invincible power, had come so much nearer to Gabriel.
"Listen," said he. "This cruel misunderstanding which is rending our hearts must come to an end. I can no longer bear the thought that you do not understand me, that you believe in my indifference to you or (who knows?) in my hatred for you. That terrible suspicion worries me even in the midst of the sacred and difficult task which it is for me to accomplish. But come a little apart, my sister. You still trust in me, do you not? Let us move away from this spot, I beg you. Even if we cannot be seen, we may be overheard; and I have reason to fear that some one may desire to interrupt our interview,—this interview which, I tell you, my sister, is essential to my reason and my peace of mind."
Diane reflected no longer. Such words from such lips were omnipotent with her. She ascended two steps to look into the hall and see if she was needed; and finding everything quiet, she at once went back to Gabriel, resting her hand confidingly in the loyal one of her faithful knight.
"Thanks," said Gabriel. "Moments are precious; for what I fear, do you know, is that the superior, who knows of my love now, would object to our having this explanation, deep and pure though my love for you is, my sister."
"That explains, then," said Diane, "why, after having told me of your arrival and of your wish to see me, good Mother Monique, informed by some one, no doubt, of the past, which I confess I had partly concealed from her, has kept me from leaving the convent for three days, and would have kept me in this evening too if my turn to do night duty in the ambulance had not arrived, and I had not insisted upon fulfilling my sad duty. Oh, Gabriel, is it not wrong in me to deceive her,—my sweet and venerable friend?"
"Must I then tell you again that with me it is as if you were with your brother, alas! that I ought to and will hush the impulses of my heart, and speak to you only as a friend should speak, but a friend who is ever devoted to you, and would gladly die for you, but who will listen to his melancholy rather than his love, never fear?"
"Speak, then, my brother!" said Diane.
"My brother!"—that horrible and yet delightful name always reminded Gabriel of the strange and mysterious alternative which his destiny had laid before him, and like a magic word drove away the burning thoughts which the silent night and the ravishing beauty of his beloved might well have awakened in the young man's heart.
"My sister," said he, in a steady voice, "it was absolutely necessary that I should see you and speak with you, so that I might address two prayers to you. One relates to the past, the other to the future. You are kind and obliging, Diane; and I know you will grant them both to a dear friend who may perhaps never meet you more on his path through life, and whom a fatal and perilous mission exposes to the risk of death at every moment."
"Oh, don't say that! don't say that!" cried Madame de Castro, almost fainting, and proving the extent of her love in her distraction and horror at the thought.