* * * * * The next morning, as I drew near the familiar little house, one circumstance seemed strange: all its windows were open, and the door as well. Scraps of paper lay strewn about the threshold, and behind the door a maid was visible with her broom. I stepped up to her. "They're off!" she volunteered, before I could ask her if the Gagins were at home. "Off!" I repeated. "What, gone? Where?" "They went at six o'clock this morning, and did not say where. But stop. You are surely Mr. N." "I am Mr. N." "There is a letter for you inside." She went in and returned with a letter. "Here it is, if you please." "But it isn't possible. How can it be?" I said. The maid stared at me stupidly, and began to sweep. I opened the letter. It was Gagin who wrote. From Assja not a line. He began with a hope that I would not be angry with him on account of his sudden departure. He felt assured that, after mature thought, I would agree to his decision. He had found no other way out of a situation which might easily become difficult, even dangerous. "Yesterday," he wrote, "as we were both waiting silently for Assja, I convinced myself fully that a separation was necessary. There are prejudices which I know how to respect. I understand that you cannot marry Assja. She has told me everything. For her own sake I am compelled to yield to her repeated, desperate prayers." In conclusion he expressed his regret that our acquaintance should be broken off so abruptly; wished me happiness; shook my hand affectionately; and assured me that it would be useless for me to try to find them. "What prejudices?" I cried out, as if he could hear me. "Nonsense! Who has given him the right to rob me of her?" I clutched my head with my hands. The maid began to call loudly for the landlady. Her terror rendered me my self control. One thought took possession of me--to find them, to find them at whatever cost. To submit to this stroke, to calmly accept it, was impossible. I learned from the landlady that they had taken a steamboat about six o'clock in the morning to go down the Rhine. I went to the office. There I was told that they had taken tickets for Cologne. I went home with the intention to pack at once and follow them. My way led me by Frau Luise's house. All at once I heard some one call me. I raised my head, and saw the Burgomaster's widow at the window of the very room where, the day before, I had met Assja. She summoned me with her disagreeable smile. I turned away, and would have gone on, but she called after me that something was there for me. This brought me to a standstill, and I entered the house. How shall I describe my feelings as I again beheld that little room? "To tell the truth," the old woman said to me, handing me a little note, "I was only to give you that if you came here of your own free will. But you are such a handsome young gentleman. Take it." I took the letter.