‘The sun seems very low,’ said Laura, as she pointed to the west, where already a blaze of red golden light was spreading over the horizon: ‘I think we must hasten our departure.’ ‘Follow me, then,’ said the _père_, ‘and I ‘ll conduct you by an easier path than we came up by.’ With that he unlocked a small postern in the curtain wall, and led us across a neatly-shaven lawn to a little barbican, where, again unlocking the door, we descended a flight of stone steps into a small garden terraced in the native rock. The labour of forming it must have been immense, as every shovelful of earth was carried from the plain beneath; and here were fruit-trees and flowers, shrubs and plants, and in the midst a tiny _jet d’eau_, which, as we entered, seemed magically to salute us with its refreshing plash. A little bench, commanding a view of the river from a different aspect, invited us to sit down for a moment. Indeed, each turn of the way seduced us by some beauty, and we could have lingered on for hours. As for me, forgetful of the past, careless of the future, I was totally wrapped up in the enjoyment of the moment, and Laura herself seemed so enchanted by the spot that she sat silently gazing on the tranquil scene, apparently lost in delighted reverie. A low, faint sigh escaped her as she looked; and I thought I could see a tremulous motion of her eyelid, as though a tear were struggling within it My heart beat powerfully against my side. I turned to see where was the _père_. He had gone. I looked again, and saw him standing on a point of rock far beneath us, and waving his handkerchief as a signal to some one in the valley. Never was there such a situation as mine; never was mortal man so placed. I stole my hand carelessly along the bench till it touched hers; but she moved not away--no, her mind seemed quite preoccupied. I had never seen her profile before, and truly it was very beautiful. All the vivacity of her temperament calmed down by the feeling of the moment, her features had that character of placid loveliness which seemed only wanting to make her perfectly handsome. I wished to speak, and could not. I felt that if I could have dared to say ‘Laura,’ I could have gone on bravely afterwards--but it would not come. ‘Amen stuck in my throat.’ Twice I got half-way, and covered my retreat by a short cough. Only think what a change in my destiny another syllable might have caused! It was exactly as my second effort proved fruitless that a delicious sound of music swelled up from the glen beneath, and floated through the air--a chorus of young voices singing what seemed to be a hymn. Never was anything more charming. The notes, softened as they rose on high, seemed almost like a seraph’s song--now lifting the soul to high and holy thoughts, now thrilling within the heart with a very ecstasy of delight. At length they paused, the last cadence melted slowly away, and all was still.