I passed all the next morning in a kind of moral somnolence. I tried to lose myself by working; impossible, I could do nothing. I tried to force myself to think of nothing; that succeeded no better. I wandered about the town; I re-entered the house, then came out again. "Are you not Monsieur N----?" said suddenly behind me the voice of a little boy. I turned about,--a child had accosted me. "From Mademoiselle Anna." And he handed me a letter. I opened it and recognized her handwriting, hasty and indistinct:-- "I must see you. Meet me to-day at four o'clock in the stone chapel, on the road that leads to the ruins.--I have been very imprudent. Come, for heaven's sake! You shall know everything. Say to the bearer, Yes." "Is there any answer?" asked the little boy. "Say to the young lady, _Yes_," I replied. And he ran away. XIV. I went back to my room, and, sitting down, began to reflect. My heart beat quickly. I read Annouchka's letter over several times. I looked at my watch; it was not yet noon. The door opened and Gaguine entered. He looked gloomy. He took my hand and pressed it fervently. You could see that he was under the influence of a deep emotion. "What has happened?" I asked him. Gaguine took a chair, and seated himself by my side. "Three days ago," he said to me, with an uneasy smile and a constrained voice, "I told you some things that surprised you; to-day I am going to astonish you still more. To another than you, I would not speak so frankly; but you are a man of honor, and a friend, I hope; then listen. My sister Annouchka loves you." I started, and rose quickly. "Your sister, you tell me--?" "Yes," he replied bruskly, "I said so. It is foolish; she will drive me mad. Fortunately, she cannot lie, and confides everything to me. Ah! what a heart that child has; but she will surely ruin herself!" "You are certainly in error," I exclaimed, interrupting him. "No, I am not mistaken. Yesterday she remained in bed the entire day without taking anything. It is true she did not complain; but she never does complain. I felt no uneasiness, but towards evening she had a little fever. About two in the morning our landlady came and awoke me. "'Go and see your sister,' she said to me; 'I think she is ill.' "I ran to Annouchka's room, and found her still dressed, consumed with fever, in tears; her head was on fire; her teeth chattered. "'What is the matter with you?' I asked.