were shining stars in the darkening sky. He thought he heard the sound of distant voices, as if the earth were moving away from him – and then he ceased to think at all.
X
Even before he was fully awake he had a vague idea that something unusual had occurred while he slept. Still, he was not curious to know what it was, nor to look about him. He would he were lapped again in the dream which, like a reluctant mist, was slowly drifting away. Robinetta had come to him again in the dream, and stroked his hair in the old way; and he had seen his father once more, and Presto, in the garden with the pond.
"Auch! That hurt. Who did that?" Johannes opened his eyes, and saw, in the grey dawn, close beside him, a small being who had been pulling his hair. He was lying in a bed, and the light was dim and wavering – as in a room.
But the face that bent over him brought back, at once, all the misery and gloom of the day before. It was Pluizer's face – less like a hobgoblin, and more human – but just as ugly and frightful as ever.
"Oh, let me dream!" he murmured.
But Pluizer shook him. "Are you mad, you lazy boy? Dreams are foolish, and keep one from getting on. A human being must work and think and seek. That is what you are human for."
"I do not want to be a human being. I want to dream."
"Whether you wish to or not – you must. You are in my charge now, and you are going to act, and seek, in my company. With me alone can you find what you desire, and I shall not leave you until we have found it."
Johannes felt a vague terror. Yet a superior power seemed to press and coerce him. Unresistingly, he resigned himself.
Gone were fields and flowers and trees. He was in a small, dimly-lighted room. Outside, as far as he could see, were houses and houses – dark and dingy – in long, monotonous rows.
Smoke in thick folds was rising everywhere, and it swept, like a murky fog, through the streets below. And along those streets the people hurried in confusion, like great black busy ants. A dull, confused, continuous roar ascended from this throng.
"Look, Johannes!" said Pluizer. "Now is not that a pretty sight? Those are human beings, and all those houses, as far as you can see – still farther than that belfry in the blue distance – are full of people, from top to bottom. Is not that remarkable? That is rather different from an ant-hill!"
Johannes listened with shrinking curiosity, as if some huge, horrible monster were being shown him. He seemed to be standing on the back of that monster, and to see the black blood streaming through the swollen arteries, and the dark breath ascending from a hundred nostrils. And the ominous growling of that awful voice filled him with fears.
"Look! How fast these people go, Johannes!" continued Pluizer. "You can see, can you not, that they are all in a hurry, and hunting for something? But it is droll that no one knows precisely what it is. After they have been seeking a little while, they come face to face with some one. His name is Hein."
"Who is that?" asked Johannes.
"Oh, a good friend of mine. I will introduce you to him, without fail. Now this Hein asks: 'Are you looking for me?' At that, most of them usually say: 'Oh, no! Not you.' Then Hein remarks: 'But there is nothing to be found save me.' So they have to content themselves with Hein."
Johannes perceived that he spoke of death.
"Is that always the way – always?"
"To be sure it is – always. But yet, day after day, a new crowd gathers, and they begin their search not knowing for what – seeking, seeking, until at last they find Hein. So it has been for a pretty long while, and so it will continue to be."
"Shall I, too, find nothing else, Pluizer? Nothing but…"
"Yes, Hein you will surely find, some day. But that does not matter. Only seek – always be seeking."
"But the little book, Pluizer? You might let me find the book."
"Well, who knows! I have not forbidden it. We must seek – seek. We know, at least, what we are looking for. Wistik taught us that. Others there are who try all their lives to find out what they are really seeking. They are the philosophers, Johannes. But when Hein comes, it is all up with their search as well."
"That is frightful, Pluizer!"
"Oh, no! Indeed it is not. Hein is very good-hearted, but he is misunderstood."
Some one toiled up the stairs outside the chamber door – Clump! clump! on the wooden stairs.
Clump! clump! Nearer and nearer. Then some one rapped at the door, and it sounded like ice tapping on wood.
A tall man entered. He had deep-set eyes, and long, lean hands. A cold draft swept through the little room.
"Well, well!" said Pluizer. "We were just speaking of you. Take a seat. How goes it with you?"
"Busy, busy!" said the tall man, wiping the cold moisture from his white, bony forehead.
Stiff with fright, Johannes gazed into the deep-set eyes which were fixed upon him. They were very deep and dark, but not cruel – not threatening. After a few moments he breathed more freely, and his heart beat less rapidly.
"This is Johannes," said Pluizer. "He has heard of a certain book which tells why everything is as it is; and we are going together to find that book, are we not?" Then Pluizer laughed, significantly.
"Is that so? Well, that is good," said Death kindly, nodding to Johannes.
"He is afraid he will not find it, but I tell him to seek first, diligently."
"Certainly," said Death. "It is best to seek diligently."
"He thought that you were so horrible! You see, do you not, Johannes, that you made a mistake?"
"Ah, yes," said Death, most kindly. "They speak very ill of me. My outward appearance is not prepossessing, but I mean well."
He smiled faintly, like one whose mind was full of more serious matters than those of which he spoke. Then he turned his sombre eyes away from Johannes, and they wandered pensively toward the great town.
It was a long time before Johannes ventured to speak. At last, he said softly:
"Are you going to take me with you, now?"
"What do you mean, my child?" said Death, roused from his meditations. "No, not now. You must grow up and become a good man."
"I will not be a man – like the others."
"Come, come!" said Death. "There is no help for it."
It was clear that this was an every-day phrase with him. He continued:
"My friend, Pluizer, can teach you how to become a good man. It can be learned in various ways, but Pluizer teaches it excellently. It is something very fine and admirable to be a good man. You must not scorn it, my little lad."
"Seeking, thinking, looking!" said Pluizer.
"To be sure! To be sure!" said Death; and then, to Pluizer, "To whom are you going to take him?"
"To Doctor Cijfer, my old pupil."
"Ah,
