II.

Many people, no doubt, are ignorant of what this word _commersch_ means.

Thus they designate a _fête_ to which come all the students of the same

country or of the same society to take part (_Landsmannschaft_). Most of

the young men who resort to these gatherings wear the traditional

costume of the German students, a frogged surtout, large boots, and a

small cap, the lace of which is of the color of the country. The

students assemble for the banquet, over which presides a _Senior_, or

the oldest of the band, and remain at table until morning. They drink;

they sing the _Landesvater_, the _Gaudeamus_; they smoke; they laugh at

the Philistines, and often indulge in the luxury of an orchestra.

It was a gathering of this kind that was taking place in the garden of

the hotel, with the sign of the _Soleil_. The house and garden, which

looked upon the street, were draped with flags; the students were seated

at tables under the lindens; an enormous bull-dog was lying under one

of the tables; in a corner, under a thicket of ivy, were seated the

musicians, who were playing their best, imbibing quantities of beer to

keep themselves in working order. A great number of curious townspeople

were assembled in the street, before the rather high railing of the

garden, the good citizens of the town of L. not wishing to let slip an

occasion to examine closely the guests who had come among them. I joined

the group of spectators. I could observe with pleasure the faces of the

students; their embracings, their exclamations, the innocent presumption

of youth, their enthusiastic glances, their impulsive laughter,--the

best kind of laughter, that joyful ebullition of a life yet full, that

impetuous flight towards no matter what aim, providing it was forward,

that _abandon_ full of thoughtlessness, touched and captivated me. Why

should I not join them? I asked myself.

"Annouchka, have you not had enough of this?" suddenly said in Russian a

man's voice behind me. "Stay a little longer," answered a woman's voice

in the same language. I turned quickly, and my looks fell upon a man

some young man in a riding-coat and cap; he had on his arm a young girl,

very small, whose straw hat almost concealed her features.

"You are a Russian?" I asked of them, with a start which I could not

help.

"Yes, we are Russian," answered the young man, smiling.

"I did not expect," I said to him, "in a foreign country to meet"--

"Nor we either," said he, interrupting me. "Allow me," continued he, "to

make ourselves known to you; my name is Gaguine, and here is"--he

hesitated a moment--"here is my sister. And you, monsieur?"

I in turn told him my name, and we engaged in conversation. I learned

that Gaguine was travelling, like myself, for pleasure, and that, having

arrived about a week ago at L., he had settled himself there for the

time being.

I must confess I do not like to become intimate with Russians in a

foreign country. As far as I can see them, I easily recognize their

walk, the cut of their clothes, principally the expression of their

face. This expression, supercilious and scornful in its nature, at

times imperious, suddenly assumes a cautious and even a timid air. They

appear seized with a kind of restlessness; their eyes disclose a strange

anxiety: "Seigneur! have I not said something foolish; are they laughing

at me by chance?" their look seems to ask. Then one sees them again

assume their majestic calmness, until a new feeling of uneasiness

comes to trouble them. Yes, I say it again, I avoid all intercourse with

my fellow-countrymen; nevertheless, at first sight, I felt attracted

towards Gaguine. There are in the world such happy faces that one takes

pleasure in looking at them, they reflect a warmth which attracts and

does one good, as if one had received a caress. Such was Gaguine's, with

large eyes as soft as the curls of his hair, and a voice whose sound

made you divine that he had a smile upon his lips.

The young girl whom he called his sister at first sight appeared to me

charming. There was an expression quite peculiar, piquant and pretty at

times, upon her round and slightly brown face; her nose was small and

slender, her cheeks chubby as a child's, her eyes black and clear.

Though well proportioned, her figure had not yet entirely developed.

Withal there was no resemblance to her brother.

"Will you come home with us?" said Gaguine to me. "It seems to me that

we have looked long enough at these Germans. Russians by this time would

have broken up the glasses and chairs; but these young fellows before us

are too reserved. Come, Annouchka, is it not time to return home?"

The young girl assented by a nod of the head.

"We live out of town," added Gaguine, "in a small isolated house upon a

hill, surrounded by vines. You shall see whether it is pretty! Come, our

landlady has promised to make us some cheese-rennet. Besides the day is

on the wane, and you will cross the Rhine more securely by moonlight."

We proceeded. A few moments after we passed through the low gate of the

town, which was surrounded by an old stone wall that still preserved

some battlements. We advanced into the country; after going along by the

side of an old wall a hundred paces, we stopped before a little door;

Gaguine opened it and made us ascend a steep path, upon the sides of

which were rows of vines.

The sun was just setting; a faint purple hue tinged the vines, the props

that sustained them, the parched earth covered with pieces of slate, as

well as the white walls of a little house, all the bright windows of

which were framed in black bars, and towards which the footpath that we

were climbing guided us.

"Here is our stopping-place!" cried Gaguine, when were a little way from

the house, "and there's our landlady, too, bringing us some milk. _Guten

abend_, madam," cried he. "We are going to have our frugal repast at

once; but first," said he, "look about you and tell me what you think of

the view."

The site that he showed me was, indeed, admirable. At our feet the

silvery waters of the Rhine, illumined by the purple of the setting sun,

flowed between the verdant banks. The town, peacefully placed on the

river banks, displayed to our eyes all its houses and all its streets;

the hills and fields stretched out about it.

If that which was at our feet was beautiful, more lovely still was the

sight above our heads. One was struck by the depth and clearness of the

heavens, the transparency and brilliancy of the atmosphere. Clear and

light, the undulations of the breeze moved softly about us; that also

seemed to take delight in the heights.

"You have chosen an admirable place to live in," I said to Gaguine.

"It is Annouchka who found it out," he replied to me. "Come, Annouchka,

give your orders. Have them bring everything here; we will sup in the

open air, that we may hear the music better. Have you noticed," added

he, turning to me, "that such music as a waltz near at hand seems

detestable; heard at a distance, charms and makes all the poetic chords

of your heart vibrate."

Annouchka directed her steps towards the house, and soon returned

accompanied by the landlady. They brought an enormous dish of milk,

spoons, plates, sugar, fruits, and bread. We seated ourselves and began

to eat. Annouchka took off her hat; her black hair, cut short, fell in

large curls over her ears and her neck. My presence appeared to

embarrass her; but Gaguine said to her, "don't be shy; he will not bite

you."

These words made her smile, and a few moments after she spoke to me

without the least embarrassment. She did not remain quiet a moment.

Hardly was she seated than she arose, ran towards the house, and

reappeared again, singing in a low voice; often she laughed, and her

laugh had something strange about it--one would say that it was not

provoked by anything that was said, but by some thoughts that were

passing through her mind. Her large eyes looked one in the face openly,

with boldness, but at times she half closed her eyelids, and her looks

became suddenly deep and caressing.

We chatted for about two hours. It was some time since the sun had gone

down, and the evening light, at first resplendent with fire, then calm

and red, later on confused and dim, mingled little by little with the

shades of night. Yet our conversation still went on. Gaguine had a

bottle of Rhine wine brought; we drank it slowly. The music had not

stopped, but the sounds that the wind brought us seemed sweeter. In the

town and upon the river lights began to spring up. Annouchka suddenly

lowered her head, her curly hair fell over her brow, then she became

silent and sighed. In a few moments she told us that she was sleepy and

went into the house. I followed her with my eyes, and saw her sitting a

long time motionless in the shadow behind the closed window. At last the

moon appeared on the horizon, and its rays made the waters of the Rhine

scintillate softly. Everything before us suddenly changed; brightness,

then darkness, sprang up in every direction, and the wine, even in our

glasses, assumed a mysterious appearance. There was no longer any wind;

it ceased suddenly, like a bird that folds its wings; a delicate and

warm perfume arose from the ground.

"It is time to go!" I exclaimed, "otherwise I shall not find a boatman."

"Yes, it is time," replied Gaguine. We took the path that came down the

mountain. Suddenly we heard some pebbles rolling behind us; it was

Annouchka, who was coming to rejoin us.

"You did not go to bed then?" said her brother.

She did not reply, but ran down before us. Some of the lamps that the

students had to light up the garden still threw a dying glimmer, which

lighted up the foliage of the trees, at the foot of which they burnt,

and gave to them a solemn and fantastic appearance. We found Annouchka

upon the bank; she was talking with the boatman. I jumped into the boat

and took leave of my new friends. Gaguine promised me a visit the next

day. I gave him my hand, which he pressed; I offered the other to

Annouchka, but she contented herself by looking at me and nodding her

head. The boat was set loose from the bank, and the current carried it

along with rapidity. The boatman, a robust old man, plunged his oars

energetically into the dark waters of the river.

"You are going into the reflection of the moon," cried Annouchka; "you

have broken it."