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Updated: May 5, 2025
"I will tell you everything." They were not so free to talk now, for the young man was at the door watching them: "And then, Herr Christophe," said Lorchen, "I will go and see her sometimes and I will send you news of her; do not be anxious." She shook hands with him vigorously like a man. "Let us go!" said the peasant. "Let us go!" said Christophe. All three went out. On the road they parted.
But in spite of all this care to pass unnoticed Lorchen spied him out in his corner. While she waltzed indefatigably she threw quick glances at him over her partner's shoulder to make sure that he was still looking at her; and it amused her to excite him; she coquetted with the young men of the village, laughing the while with her wide mouth.
"Be quick, sir, or we shall be too late," said Lorchen's swain, pushing the door open. Christophe wrote his name hurriedly and gave the letter to Lorchen. "You will give it to her yourself?" "I am going," she said. She was already ready to go. "You will tell me everything and how she bore the blow and everything she says to you? You will not keep anything from me?" said Christophe beseechingly.
He said nothing, made a face of disgust, threw his hat on the table, went and sat at the end of the room, and turned his back on them. But Lorchen was angry and flung herself at the peasants. Her pretty face was red and scowling with rage. She pushed back the people who were crowding round Christophe: "Cowards! Brute beasts!" she cried. "Aren't you ashamed?
All these people were only interested in him while they could make use of him and then laugh at him. He sighed, smiled as he looked at Lorchen, whom her joy in the discomfiture of her rivals had made ten times prettier than ever, and got ready to go. It was nearly nine. He had fully two miles to go to the town. He got up from the table when the door opened and a handful of soldiers burst in.
"And Lorchen?" asked Christophe. "Why didn't she come?" The girl did not reply. Christophe understood that she did not want to say anything among all the people. They had first to pass through the customs. When that was done Christophe took the girl to the end of the platform: "The police came," said the girl, now very talkative. "They came almost as soon as you had gone.
They had barred the door just before to prevent his going; now they wanted to prevent his not going. If he went back to the town he was certain to be caught; they would know at the fortress before he got there; they would await him at home. He insisted. Lorchen had understood him: "You want to see your mother?... I will go instead of you." "When?" "To-night." "Really! You will do that?"
Christophe recognized the white shawl with red spots and embroidered flowers which Lorchen had tied round her head when she left him on the night before. The naive improbability of the excuse she had made for sending him such a love-token did not make him smile. "Now," said the girl, "here is the return train. I must go home. Good-night." "Wait," said Christophe.
It was not only Lorchen that Christophe kissed as he kissed the little milkmaid's chubby cheeks; it was all Germany. The girl slipped away and ran towards the train which was just going. She hung out of the window and waved her handkerchief to him until she was out of sight.
Lorchen took his hands she stood near him and looked at him; their faces were almost touching; she threw her arms round his neck and kissed his mouth: "Quick! Quick!" she whispered, pointing to the table, He gave up trying to think. He sat down. She tore a sheet of squared paper with red lines from an account book. He wrote: "My DEAR MOTHER: Forgive me. I am going to hurt you much.
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