“While your honour was away I took upon myself to despatch his carriage with our luggage, to meet us, I said, at Dresden. That will be two false scents for them—and we, it seems, take the south road to Prague! We shall puzzle Budissin yet.”
On we tramped through the deserted bye-streets. It was only when we were stopped at last, in that self-same poor little mean lane, before the self-same poor little mean shop, faintly lit inside by a dull oil lamp, that I recognised the scene of my morning’s interview with Anna—that interview which seemed already to have passed into the far regions of my memory, so much had I lived through since.
We met but few folk upon our way, who paid little attention to us. As we entered into the evil-smelling room, stepping down into it from the street, and as Anna shot back the slide of the lantern and turned upon us a triumphant smiling face, I felt that our chief peril was over. The shop was empty, but she was not disposed to allow us even a little halt: she marshalled us through the dank narrow passages with which I had already made acquaintance, across the courtyard into the back street. There stood a country waggon with a leathern tent. By the flash of the lantern I saw that to it were harnessed a pair of great raw-boned chestnuts that hung their heads patiently beneath the snow, yet seemed to have known better service in their days—no doubt at one time had felt the trooper’s spurs.
Beside them stood a squat man, enveloped to the ears in sheepskin, with a limp felt hat drawn over his brow till only some three-quarters of a shrewd, empurpled, not unkindly visage was left visible. The waggoner was evidently expecting us, for he came forward, withdrew his pipe, touched his hat, and made a leg.
“My cousin,” said Anna to us, and added briefly and significantly: “He asks no questions.”
Then in a severe tone of command she proceeded to address several to him. Had he placed fresh hay in the waggon according to her orders? Had he received from her sister the ham, and the wine and the blankets? Had the horses been well fed? On receiving affirmative grunts in answer, she bade him then immediately produce the chair, that the lady and the gentleman might get in.
Between the closed borders of her hood I caught a glimpse of Ottilie’s faint smile, as lighted by the lantern rays she mounted upon the wooden stool and disappeared into the dark recesses of the waggon, stirring up a warm dust as she went, and a far-away fragrance of hay and faded clover.
“Now you, sir,” said Anna, and jogged my elbow.
I believe at that moment we were to her but a pair of babes and nurslings for whom she was responsible, and that she would have as readily combed our hair and washed our faces as if we were still of a size to be lifted on her knee.
I obeyed. And truly, as I crawled forward in the dark, amid the warm straw, groping my way to the further end till I laid my hand on Ottilie’s soft young arm extended towards me, when I heard her laugh a little laugh to herself as we snuggled in the nest together, I felt a happiness that was like that of a child, all innocent of past and improvident of future. Nevertheless at one and the same time my whole being was stirred to its depths with a tenderness my manhood had not yet known.