Johannes did not understand—it was all a mystery to him. Everything was confused and dark in his soul—
'How can all this exist in me at the same time?' thought he. 'Am I really myself? Is that my father—my own father? Mine—Johannes's?' And it was as though a stranger spoke.
It was all a tale which he had heard. He had heard some one tell of Johannes, and of the house where he dwelt with his father from whom he had run away, and who was now dying. This was not himself—he had only heard of it all; and indeed it was a sad story,—very sad. But it had nothing to do with him.
And yet—and yet.—It was he himself, Johannes.
'I cannot understand the case,' said Doctor Cypher, pulling himself up. 'It is a very mysterious attack.'
Pluizer came up to Johannes.
'Come and look, Johannes; it is a very interesting case. The Doctor knows nothing about it.'
'Leave me alone,' said Johannes, without turning round. 'I cannot think.'
But Pluizer went close behind him and whispered sharply in his ear, as was his wont—
'You cannot think? Did you fancy that you could not think? That is a mistake. You must think. Staring out like this at the green grass and the blue sky will do no good. Windekind will not come to you. And the sick man is sinking fast; that you must have seen as clearly as we did. But what is his disorder, do you think?'