At the hour agreed upon I crossed the Rhine, and the first person I met
on the bank was the same little boy who had found me in the morning. He
seemed to be waiting for me. "From Mademoiselle Anna," he said to me, in
a low voice, and he gave me another note.
Annouchka announced to me that she had changed the place of the
rendezvous. She told me to meet her in an hour and a half--not at the
chapel, but at Dame Louise's; I was to knock at the door, enter, and go
up three flights.
"Again _Yes_?" asked the little boy.
"Yes," I replied, and walked along the river bank. I had not time enough
to return to my house, and did not wish to wander about the streets.
Behind the walls of the town stretched a little garden, with a
bowling-alley covered with a roof, and some tables for beer-drinkers. I
entered it.
Several middle-aged Germans were bowling; the balls rolled noisily
along; exclamations could be heard from time to time. A pretty little
waiting-maid, her eyes swollen from crying, brought me a jug of beer; I
looked her in the face, she turned away bruskly and withdrew.
"Yes, yes!" muttered a stout German with very red cheeks, who was seated
near me; "our Hannchen is in great distress to-day; her sweetheart is
drawn in the conscription." I looked at her at this moment; retiring
into a corner, she was resting her cheek upon her hand, and great tears
slowly rolled between her fingers. Some one asked for beer; she brought
him a jug, and went back to her place. This grief reacted upon me, and I
began to think of my rendezvous with sadness and uneasiness.
It was not with a light heart that I was going to this interview. I must
not give myself up to the joys of a reciprocal love. Must keep to my
word, fulfil a difficult duty. "_It is not safe to play with fire._"
This expression, which Gaguine had used in speaking of his sister,
pierced me like a sharp arrow to the bottom of my soul. Yet three days
before, in that boat carried along by the stream, was I not tormented by
a thirst for happiness? Now I could satisfy it, and I hesitated. I
thrust back this happiness; it was my duty to do so; the unforeseen
something which it presented frightened me. Annouchka herself, with her
impulsive nature, her education, this girl strange and full of
fascination, I confess it, frightened me.
I struggled a long time with these feelings. The moment fixed upon
approached. "I can not marry her," at last I said to myself; "she will
not know that I have loved her."
I arose, put a thaler into poor Hannchen's hand (she did not even thank
me), and proceeded towards the house of Dame Louise.
The shades of night were already in the air, and above the dark street
stretched a narrow band of sky, reddened by the setting sun. I gently
tapped at the door; it was immediately opened.