"Leave thee! Nevermore!" cried passionately the youth; "now thou art mine for ever. Thou shalt flee with me, and no power on earth shall tear thee from me. Thou art mine, mine till death!"
"And my oath," cried Lina—"the oath I have taken?"
Lindor turned pale. "So thou hast already taken the vows, art no longer novice? Art irrevocably chained to the convent?" he cried in horror, for even love started back from the gulf that such an oath had made between them, opposing their union. "Then I am lost, my life-happiness is annihilated!"
"And mine too!" sobbed Lina in his arms.
"Or wilt thou flee with me? We will hide ourselves far from our native land, where no searcher can find us, and undisturbed we will be happy."
But Lina refused, "My oath, my oath, would it leave us peace? Would I not draw down thy soul to perdition? See, my anguish will soon be over, and I will wait for thee above. Give me up for this life, that God may grant us a blessed future, Lindor."
He gazed on the ground and was silent. At last he gave her the hand. "Let it be so," he said, struggling for firmness. "Thou art still mine; if not here, there above."
Meanwhile the storm-clouds had blackened, and a loud clap of thunder rolled over the heads of the parting lovers. Both looked up, but did not see the Abbess, who was watching them for their destruction.
"Now let us part for this life," said Lina, who felt her soul elevated and strengthened.
"Must it be so? Must I lose thee, when I have just found thee?"