It was the beginning of September, and the weather super till they neared the Apennines, where they felt the approach of winter. A soft air is seldom united with the pleasure of looking on picturesque mountains. One evening, a terrible hurricane arose: the thickest darkness closed around them; and the horses, so wild there that they are even harnessed by stratagem, set off with inconceivable rapidity. Our lovers felt much excited by being thus hurried on together. "Ah!" cried Oswald, "if they could bear us from all I know on earth--if they could climb these hills, and dash into another life, where we should regain my father, who would receive and bless us, would you not go with me, beloved?" He pressed her vehemently to his bosom. Corinne, enamored as himself, replied: "Dispose of me as you will; chain me like a slave to your fate: had not the slaves of other days talents that soothed their masters? Such would I be to thee. But, Oswald, yet respect her who thus trusts thee: condemned by all the world, she must not blush to meet thine eye."--"No," he exclaimed, "I will lose all, or all obtain. I ought, I must either live thy husband, or die in stifling the transports of my passion: but I will hope to be thine before the world, and glory in thy tenderness. Yet tell me, I conjure thee, have I not sunk in thine esteem by all these struggles? Canst thou believe thyself less dear than ever?" His accents were so sincere, that, for awhile, they gave her back her confidence, and the purest, sweetest rapture animated them both.