At these words he clasped her in his arms. "I shall go with her. Nothing
shall shake my resolution!" he declared, in a terrible voice.

We ran towards them, and Paul turned savagely on Madame de la Tour. "Do
you act the part of a mother," he cried, "you who separate brother and
sister? Pitiless woman! May the ocean never give her back to your arms!"
His eyes sparkled; sweat ran down his countenance.

"Oh, my friend," cried Virginia to him in terror, "I swear by all that
could ever unite two unhappy beings that if I remain here I will only
live for you; and if I depart, I will one day return to be yours!"

His head drooped; a torrent of tears gushed from his eyes.

"Come to-night to my home, my friend," I said. "We will talk this matter
over to-morrow."

"I cannot let her go!" cried madame, in distraction.

Paul accompanied me in silence. After a restless night he arose at
daybreak, and returned to his own home.

Virginia had gone! The vessel had sailed at daybreak, and she was on
board.

By intricate paths Paul climbed to the summit of a rock cone, from which
a vast area of sea was visible. From here he perceived the vessel that
bore away Virginia; and here I found him in the evening, his head
leaning against the rock, his eyes fixed on the ground.