At this moment broken, monotonous tones fell on our ears. Hundreds of voices in unison repeated a hymn with measured pauses. A troop of pilgrims was moving along the way beneath us with flags and crosses.
"I would like to go with them!" cried Assja, while she listened to the sound of the voices, gradually dying away.
"Are you so devout?"
"I would like to go somewhere far off, to pray, to accomplish something difficult," she added. "The days hurry by, life will come to an end, and what have we done?"
"You are ambitious," I said. "You do not wish to live in vain. You would like to leave behind some trace of your existence."
"Would it be impossible?"
"Impossible," I had nearly repeated. I looked into her clear eyes and only said:
"Well, try it."
"Tell me," Assja began after a little silence, while flying shadows followed each other across her face, which had grown pale again—"did that lady please you very much? You remember, my brother drank to your health once, in the ruins; it was the day after we had made acquaintance."
I laughed aloud.