Part 15 (1/2)

”Do you think that beef will soon be here?”

”Yes; immediately”; the waitress opens the trapdoor, and looks down into the kitchen.

But suppose the affair did crop up some day? If the shop-boy were to get suspicious and begin to think over the transaction about the bread, and the florin of which the woman got the change? It was not impossible that he would discover it some day, perhaps the next time I went there.

Well, then, Lord!... I shrugged my shoulders un.o.bserved.

”If you please,” says the waitress, kindly placing the beef on the table, ”wouldn't you rather go to another compartment, it's so dark here?”

”No, thanks; just let me be here,” I reply; her kindliness touches me at once. I pay for the beef on the spot, put whatever change remains into her hand, close her fingers over it. She smiles, and I say in fun, with the tears near my ears, ”There, you're to have the balance to buy yourself a farm.... Ah, you're very welcome to it.”

I commenced to eat, got more and more greedy I as I did so, swallowed whole pieces without chewing them, enjoyed myself in an animal-like way at every mouthful, and tore at the meat like a cannibal.

The waitress came over to me again.

”Will you have anything to drink?” she asks, bending down a little towards me. I looked at her. She spoke very low, almost shyly, and dropped her eyes. ”I mean a gla.s.s of ale, or whatever you like best ...

from me ... without ... that is, if you will....”

”No; many thanks,” I answer. ”Not now; I shall come back another time.”

She drew back, and sat down at the desk. I could only see her head.

What a singular creature!

When finished, I made at once for the door. I felt nausea already. The waitress got up. I was afraid to go near the light--afraid to show myself too plainly to the young girl, who never for a moment suspected the depth of my misery; so I wished her a hasty good-night, bowed to her, and left.

The food commenced to take effect. I suffered much from it, and could not keep it down for any length of time. I had to empty my mouth a little at every dark corner I came to. I struggled to master this nausea which threatened to hollow me out anew, clenched my hands, and tried to fight it down; stamped on the pavement, and gulped down furiously whatever sought to come up. All in vain. I sprang at last into a doorway, doubled up, head foremost, blinded with the water which gushed from my eyes, and vomited once more. I was seized with bitterness, and wept as I went along the street.... I cursed the cruel powers, whoever they might be, that persecuted me so, consigned them to h.e.l.l's d.a.m.nation and eternal torments for their petty persecution.

There was but little chivalry in fate, really little enough chivalry; one was forced to admit that.

I went over to a man staring into a shop-window, and asked him in great haste what, according to his opinion, should one give a man who had been starving for a long time. It was a matter of life and death, I said; he couldn't even keep beef down.

”I have heard say that milk is a good thing--hot milk,” answered the man, astonished. ”Who is it, by the way, you are asking for?”

”Thanks, thanks,” I say; ”that idea of hot milk might not be half a bad notion;” and I go.

I entered the first cafe I came to going along, and asked for some boiled milk. I got the milk, drank it down, hot as it was, swallowed it greedily, every drop, paid for it, and went out again. I took the road home.

Now something singular happened. Outside my door, leaning against the lamp-post, and right under the glare of it, stands a person of whom I get a glimpse from a long distance--it is the lady dressed in black again. The same black-clad lady of the other evenings. There could be no mistake about it; she had turned up at the same spot for the fourth time. She is standing perfectly motionless. I find this so peculiar that I involuntarily slacken my pace. At this moment my thoughts are in good working order, but I am much excited; my nerves are irritated by my last meal. I pa.s.s her by as usual; am almost at the door and on the point of entering. There I stop. All of a sudden an inspiration seizes me. Without rendering myself any account of it, I turn round and go straight up to the lady, look her in the face, and bow.

”Good-evening.”

”Good-evening,” she answers.

Excuse me, was she looking for anything? I had noticed her before; could I be of a.s.sistance to her in any way? begged pardon, by-the-way, so earnestly for inquiring.

Yes; she didn't quite know....

No one lived inside that door besides three or four horses and myself; it was, for that matter, only a stable and a tinker's workshop.... She was certainly on a wrong track if she was seeking any one there.

At this she turns her head away, and says: ”I am not seeking for anybody. I am only standing here; it was really only a whim. I” ... she stops.