hollow that I myself noticed its unnaturalness. "_With_ me?" I
repeated, sighing, unable to comprehend. And then, like a liberation, a
feeling of terror and awe thrilled my whole being, and I looked down
upon myself cautiously, almost timidly, as though thereby I might
injure somebody. In vague apprehension I turned quite around until I
again faced the inscribed bamboo trunk.

"You are here--with me--?" I whispered. "Verily--I saw how you took
hold of the bamboo to write on it, and let it go again, so that it
quivered. I saw that you were here, even though at present I cannot see
you. You--are--with me?" I could speak no more; my heart beat slowly
and hard, like a rubber hammer that I could feel even up to my throat
and ears; a mute, voluptuous rapture filled my soul, a pride, a sense
of triumph, such as peradventure the chosen one feels when in the midst
of the multitude he realizes his good fortune and reveals it to no man.

"Come!" I said finally, waited a moment to let her take the lead, and
then strode composedly back to the erythrina; and leaving the place at
my right vacant for her, I seated myself upon the bench. I did not
stir, I sat there quietly, shuddering with rapture and expectation, and
at the same time depressed by the impotence of my clumsy senses, to
which I yielded only with difficulty.

I waited--I waited. Was she there? Had she not followed me at all? Have
I driven her away? Must I act otherwise?

Then I felt a brushing of my right cheek, and my whole body fluttered
upward. I looked down in her direction and saw that an erythrina
blossom had grazed my cheek and fallen close beside me upon the
bench. I gazed at it lying fiery there upon the gray wood; I quieted
myself and collected my faculties. I said to myself, "Do not lose your
self-control! Do not let yourself be submerged! No anxiety! No terror!
There is nothing contrary to nature! All being is spirit. If she is
here, she will reveal her presence again, more plainly, as distinctly
as you can bear.--"

I looked straight ahead and perceived that the gray-garbed old man with
the little basket in his hand was slowly traversing the quivering
glassy air of the garden; I saw him disappear behind the snowy spray of
the fountain, reappear again on the other side, and then vanish in the
bushes. I felt as though I had been left alone in the world and were
about to be lost forever; I listened for some bird or other creature,
and was happy to hear the s