Chapter IX

Johannes had sat waiting for a long time. The air was chill, and heavy clouds swept over the scene in endless succession. They spread a dark grey mantle in wide folds, and lifted their proud heads to the bright light which shone above them. Sunshine and shadow chased each other with wonderful swiftness across the trees, like a fitfully blazing fire. Johannes was uneasy in his mind; he was thinking of the Book, not really believing that he should ever find it. Between the clouds very, very high up, he saw the clear, deep blue strewn with fleecy white clouds, soft and feathery, floating in calm and motionless rest.

'It must be like that!' thought he. 'So high, so bright, so still!'

Then came Robinetta. Her bird was not with her.

'It is all right, Johannes!' she cried out. 'You may come and see the Book.'

'Where is Robin Redbreast?' said Johannes doubtfully.

'He did not come; as we are not going for a walk.'

So he went with her, still thinking to himself: 'It cannot be.--It will not be like this,--it must be quite different.' However, he followed the shining golden hair which lighted up the way.

* * * * *

Alas! Sad things now befell little Johannes. I wish that his history ended here. Did you ever have a beautiful dream of an enchanted garden, with flowers and beasts who loved you and talked to you? And have you in your dream had the consciousness that you would presently awake, and all the glory of it vanish? Then you try with all your might to hold it fast, and not to see the cold light of morning.

Johannes had just such a feeling as he followed Robinetta.

She led him into the big house, into a passage where his steps echoed. He could smell the scent of clothes and food; he thought of the long days when he had been kept indoors--of his school-days--and of everything in his life which had been cold and gloomy.

They went into a room full of men and women; how many, he could not see. They were talking, but as he went in they were silent. He noticed that the carpet had a pattern of huge, impossible flowers in gaudy colours. They were as strange and monstrous as those on the curtains in his bedroom at home.

'So that is the gardener's little boy?' said a voice opposite him. 'Come here, my little friend; there is nothing to be afraid of.'

And another voice close to him said--

'Well, Robbie, you have found a nice little companion.'

What did it all mean? The deep lines gathered again above Johannes's dark childlike eyes, and he looked about him in bewilderment and alarm. A man dressed in black sat near him, looking at him with cold, grey eyes.

'So you want to see the Book of Books? I am surprised that your father, whom I know for a pious man, should not have put it into your hands before now.'

'You do not know my father; he is far, far away.'

'Indeed! Well, it is the same thing. Look here, my little friend! Read this diligently; it shall show you the way of life----'

But Johannes had already recognised the Book. This was not what he wanted. No, something very different. He shook his head.

'No, no! that is not what I mean. I know this Book. This is not it.'

He heard exclamations of surprise, and felt the looks which were fixed on him from all sides.

'What? What do you mean, little man?'

'I know this book. It is the book men believe in. But there is not enough in it--if there were, there would be peace and goodwill among men. And there is none. I mean something different--something which no one can doubt who sees it; in which it is written, precisely and clearly, why everything is as it is.'

'How is that possible? Where can the boy have picked up such a notion?'

'Who taught you that, my little friend?'

'I am afraid that you have read some wicked books, child, and are talking like them.'

Thus spoke the various voices. Johannes felt his cheeks burning--his eyes were dim and dazzled--the room turned round, and the huge flowers on the carpet swayed up and down. Where was the little mouse who had so faithfully helped him that day in the school-room? He wanted her badly.

'I am not talking like any book, and he who taught me what I know is worth more than all of you together. I know the language of flowers and animals, and am friends with them all. And I know too what men are, and how they live. I know all the fairies' secrets and the wood-sprites'; for they all love me--more than men do.'

Oh Mousey, Mousey!

Johannes heard sounds of disapprobation and laughter behind him, and all sides. There was a singing and roaring in his ears.

'He seems to have read Hans Andersen's tales.'

'He is not quite right in his head.'

The man opposite to him said: 'If you know Andersen, my little man, you ought to have more of his reverence for God and His Word.'

'For God!' He knew that word, and he remembered Windekind's teaching.

'I have no reverence for God. God is a great Petroleum-lamp which leads thousands to misery and misfortune.'

There was no laughter now, but a terrible silence, in which horror and amazement might be felt on all sides. Johannes was conscious of piercing looks, even at his back. It was like his dream of the night before. The man in black stood up and took him by the arm. This hurt him and almost crushed his courage.

'Listen to me, youngster: I do not know whether you are utterly ignorant or utterly depraved, but I suffer no ungodly talk here. Go away, and never come in my sight again, I advise you. I will keep an eye on what becomes of you, but you never more set foot in this house. Do you understand?'

Every face was cold and hostile as he had seen them in his dream. Johannes looked about him in anguish.

'Robinetta--where is Robinetta?'

'Ay indeed! You would contaminate my child! Beware if you ever dare to come here again!' And the cruel grip led him down the echoing passage--the glass door slammed--and Johannes found himself outside, under the black driving clouds.

He did not turn round, but stared straight before him as he slowly walked away. The sad furrows above his eyes were deeper, and did not smooth out again.

The Redbreast sat in a lime hedge looking after him. He stopped and gazed back, but did not speak; but there was no longer any confidence in the bird's timid sharp little eyes, and when Johannes took a step nearer, the quick little creature shot away in hasty flight.

'Away, away! Here is a man!' piped the sparrows who were sitting in a row on the garden path, and they fluttered away in all directions. Even the open blossoms laughed no more, but looked grave and indifferent, as they do to all strangers. Still Johannes did not heed these signs, but only thought how cruelly he had been hurt by those men; it was as though a cold hard hand had been laid on his inmost secret soul. 'They shall believe me yet!' thought he. 'I will fetch my little key and show it to them.'

'Johannes, Johannes!' called a tiny voice. There was a bird's nest in a holly bush and Wistik's big eyes peeped out over the edge of it. 'Where are you off to?'

'It is all your fault!' said Johannes. 'Leave me in peace.'

'What took you to talk with men? Men can never understand you. Why do you tell men such things? It is most foolish.'

'They laughed at me, and hurt me. They are detestable creatures! I hate them.'

'No, Johannes; you love them.'

'No, no!'

'If you did not, it would not vex you so much to find yourself different from them; it could not matter to you what they say. You must learn to care less.'

'I want my key. I want to show it to them.'

'You must not do that; and they would not even then believe you. Of what use would it be?'

'I want my little key from under the rose-bush. Do you know where to find it?'

'Yes, certainly; by the pool you mean? Yes, I know it.'

'Then take me there, Wistik.'

Wistik clambered up on Johannes's shoulder and showed him the way. They went on and on, all the day; the wind blew, and heavy rain fell from time to time, but towards evening the clouds ceased driving, and packed into long grey and gold bars. When they reached the sand-hills which Johannes knew so well, his heart was sad within him, and he whispered again and again, 'Windekind, Windekind!'

There was the rabbit-hole, and the sand-hill where he had fallen asleep. The grey reindeer-moss was soft and damp, and did not crack under his feet. The roses were all over, and the yellow evening-primroses with their faint oppressive scent opened their cups by hundreds. Higher yet grew the tall mulleins with their thick woolly leaves. Johannes looked carefully to espy the small russet leaves of the wild rose.

'Where is it, Wistik? I do not see it.'

'I know nothing of it,' said Wistik. 'You buried the key, not I.'

Where the rose-tree had stood there was a plot covered with yellow Oenotheras staring heedlessly at the sky. Johannes questioned them, and the mullein too; but they were much too proud, for their tall stems rose far above his head; so he asked the little three-coloured pansies on the sandy ground. However, no one knew anything of the wild rose. They were all new-comers this summer, even the mullein, arrogant and tall as it was.

'Oh! where is it? where is it?'

'Have you too deceived me?' cried Wistik. 'I expected it; it is always so with men.'

And he let himself slip down from Johannes's shoulder, and ran away among the broom. Johannes looked about him in despair--there stood a tiny wild rose-bush.

'Where is the big rose-bush?' asked Johannes; 'the big one which used to stand here?'

'We never talk with human creatures,' said the shrub.

That was the last thing he heard; everything remained silent. Only the broom-shrubs sighed in the light evening breeze.

'Am I then a man?' thought Johannes. 'No! it cannot be, it cannot be! I will not be a man! I hate men!'

He was tired and sick at heart. He lay down at the edge of the meadow, on the soft grey moss which gave out a strong, damp scent.

'Now I cannot find my way back, and shall never see Robinetta again. Shall I not die if I have not Robinetta? Shall I live and grow to be a man--a man like those others who laughed at me?'

On a sudden he saw once more the two white butterflies which came flying towards him from the side where the sun was setting. He watched them anxiously; would they show him the way? They fluttered over his head, sometimes close together and sometimes far apart, flitting about as if in whimsical play. By degrees they went farther and farther from the sun, and vanished at last over the ridge of the sand-hills towards the wood, where only the topmost boughs were now red in the evening glow which blazed out brightly from beneath the long dark levels of cloud.

Johannes rose and went after them, but as they flew up over the first trees he saw that a black shadow followed them and overtook them with noiseless flight. The next instant they were gone. The black shade pounced swiftly down on them, and Johannes in terror covered his face with his hands.

'Well, my little friend, what have you to cry about?' said a sharp mocking voice close at hand. Johannes had seen a big bat coming towards him, but when he now looked up a little black dwarf not much taller than himself was standing on the sand-hill. He had a large head with big ears which stuck out dark against the bright evening sky; a lean shape and thin legs. Johannes could see nothing of his face but the small twinkling eyes.

'Have you lost anything, my little fellow? Can I help you seek it?' said he. But Johannes shook his head in silence.

'Look here. Would you like to have these?' he began again, opening his hand. In it Johannes saw something white which still moved a little. This was the two white butterflies, their crushed and broken wings quivering in their death-struggle. Johannes shuddered as though some one had blown against the nape of his neck, and he looked up in alarm at the strange being.

'Who are you?' he asked.

'You would like to know my name? Well, call me Pluizer[1]--simply Pluizer. I have other prettier names, but you would not understand them yet.'

'Are you a man?'

'Better and better! Well, I have arms and legs and a head--see what a head--and the boy asks me whether lama man! Why, Johannes, Johannes!' And the mannikin laughed with a shrill piercing note.

'How do you know who I am?' asked Johannes.

'Oh, that, to me, is a mere trifle. I know a great deal more than that. I know whence you have come and what you came to do. I know a wonderful deal--almost everything.'

'Ah, Master Pluizer----'

'Pluizer, Pluizer--without any fine words.'

'Then do you know anything----' but Johannes was suddenly silent. 'He is a man,' thought he.

'Of the little key, do you mean? Why, to be sure!'

'But I did not think that any man could know about that.'

'Foolish boy! Besides, Wistik has told me all about it.'

'Then do you know Wistik too?'

'Oh yes! One of my best friends--and I have many friends. But I know it without Wistik. I know a great deal more than Wistik. Wistik is a very good fellow--but stupid, uncommonly stupid. Now, I am not! Far from it!'

And Pluizer tapped his big head with his lean little hand. 'Do you know, Johannes,' he went on, 'what Wistik's great defect is?--but you must never tell him, for he would be very angry.'

'Well, what is it?' said Johannes.

'He does not exist. That is a great defect, but he does not admit it. And he says the same of me, that I do not exist. But that is a lie. I not exist, indeed! What next, I wonder?'

And Pluizer put the butterflies into his satchel, and suddenly turning a somersault stood before Johannes on his head. Then, with a hideous grin, he stuck out a vile long tongue. Johannes, who did not feel at all at his ease alone with this strange being in the growing dusk on the deserted sand-hills, now fairly quaked with fear.

'This is a delightful manner of surveying the world,' said Pluizer, still upside down. 'If you like I will teach you to do it. You see everything much clearer, and more life-like.' And he flourished his little legs in the air and waltzed round on his hands. As the red light fell on his inverted face Johannes thought it perfectly horrible; those little eyes twinkled in the glow and showed the whites at the lower edge where it is not generally visible.

'You see, in this position the clouds seem to be the ground and the earth the top of the world. It is just as easy to maintain that as the converse. There is really no above or below. A very pretty place to walk on those clouds must be!'

Johannes looked up at the long stretches of cloud. They looked to him like a ploughed land, with red furrows, as though blood welled up from it. Just over the pool yawned the gate of the cloud-grotto.

'Can any one go there and enter in?' he asked.

'What nonsense!' said Pluizer, suddenly standing on his feet again, to Johannes's great relief, 'Nonsense! If you were there you would find it just the same as here, and it would look as beautiful as that further on again. But in those lovely clouds it is all foggy and grey and cold.'

'I do not believe you,' cried Johannes. 'Now I see you really are a man.'

'Come, come! You do not believe me, my little friend, because I am a man? And what sort of creature are you then, I should like to know?'

'O Pluizer! Am I, too, really a man?'

'What do you suppose? An elf? Elves are never in love.' And Pluizer unexpectedly sat down on the ground at Johannes's feet with his leg crossed under him, staring at him with a villainous grin. Johannes was unutterably embarrassed and uncomfortable under his gaze, and wished he could escape or become invisible. But he could not even take his eyes off him. 'Only men fall in love, Johannes, d'ye hear! And so much the better, or there would be none left by this time. And you are in love like the best of them, although you are but a little fellow. Of whom are you thinking at this moment?'

'Of Robinetta,' whispered Johannes, hardly above his breath.

'Whom do you most long for?'

'Robinetta.'

'Without whom do you think you could not live?' Johannes's lips moved silently: 'Robinetta.'

'Well then, youngster,' grinned Pluizer, 'what made you fancy that you could be an elf? Elves do not love the daughters of men.'

'But it was Windekind,' Johannes stammered out in his bewilderment. But Pluizer flew into a terrible rage and his bony fingers gripped Johannes by the ears.

'What folly is this? Would you try to frighten me with that whippersnapper thing? He is a greater simpleton than Wistik--much greater. He knows nothing at all. And what is worse, he does not exist in any sense, and never has existed. I only exist, do you understand? And if you do not believe me, I will let you feel what I am.' And he shook the hapless Johannes by the ears.

Johannes cried out--

'But I have known him such a long time, and have travelled such a long way with him!'

'You dreamed it, I tell you. Where are the rose bush and the little key, hey? But you are not dreaming now. Do you feel that?'

'Oh!' cried Johannes, for Pluizer nipped him.

It was by this time dark, and the bats flew close over their heads and piped shrilly. The air was black and heavy, not a leaf was stirring in the wood.

'May I go home?' asked Johannes,--'home to my father?'

'To your father! What to do there?' said Pluizer. 'A warm reception you will get from him after staying away so long.'

'I want to get home,' said Johannes, and he thought of the snug room with the bright lamp light where he would sit so often by his father's side, listening to the scratching of his pen. It was quiet there, and not lonely.

'Well then, you would have done better not to come away, and stayed so long for the sake of that senseless jackanapes who has not even any existence. Now it is too late, but it does not matter in the least; I will take care of you. And whether I do it or your father, comes to precisely the same in the end. Such a father--it is a mere matter of education. Did you choose your own father? Do you suppose that there is no one so good or so clever as he? I am just as good, and cleverer--much cleverer.'

Johannes had no heart to answer; he shut his eyes and nodded feebly.

'And it would be of no use to look for anything from Robinetta,' the little man went on. He laid his hands on Johannes's shoulders and spoke close into his ear. That child thought you just as much a fool as the others did. Did you not observe that she sat in the corner and never spoke a word when they all laughed at you? She is no better than the rest. She thought you a nice little boy, and was ready to play with you--as she would have played with a cockchafer. She will not care that you are gone away. And she knows nothing of that Book. But I do; I know where it is, and I will help you to find it. I know almost everything.'

And Johannes was beginning to believe him.

'Now will you come with me? Will you seek it with me?'

'I am so tired,' said Johannes, 'let me sleep first.'

'I have no opinion of sleep,' replied Pluizer, 'I am too active for that. A man must always be wide awake and thinking. But I will grant you a little time for rest. Till to-morrow morning!' And he put on the friendliest expression of which he was capable.

Johannes looked hard into his little twinkling eyes till he could see nothing else. His head was heavy and he lay down on the mossy knoll. The little eyes seemed to go further and further from him till they were starry specks in the dark sky; he fancied he heard the sound of distant voices, as though the earth beneath him were going away and away--and then he ceased to think at all.

[Footnote 1: The plucker, the spoiler.]