'I do not know!—I do not want to know!'
Johannes said no more, but listened to the moaning; it sounded like a gentle complaint and reproach. Doctor Cypher was taking notes in a book. At the head of the bed sat the dark figure which had followed them in; his head was bowed, his lean hand extended towards the sick man, and his hollow eyes steadfastly gazing at the clock.
That sharp whisper in his ear began again.
'Why are you so unhappy, Johannes? You have got what you wished for. There lie the sand-hills, there is the sunshine through the verdure, there are the dancing butterflies, the singing birds. What more do you want? Are you waiting for Windekind? If he exists anywhere, it must be there. Why does he not come to you? He is frightened, no doubt, by our dark friend by the bed. He always has been afraid of him. Don't you see, Johannes, that it was all fancy? And listen to the moaning. It is weaker than it was just now. You can hear that it will soon cease altogether. Well, and what matter? Many folks must have groaned just so when you were at play here among the wild roses. Why do you now sit here grieving instead of going out to the sand-hills as you used to do? Look! Out there everything is as flowery and fragrant as if nothing had happened. Why do you care no more for all the gladness of that life?
'First you complained and longed to be here. Now I have brought you where you yearned to be, and yet you are not content. See. I will let you go—go out into the tall grass, lie in the cool shade, let the flies hum about you, and breathe the perfume of growing herbs. You are free! Go. Find Windekind once more. You will not? Then do you now believe in me alone? Is all I have told you true? Am I or is Windekind the false one?
'Listen to the moans! So short and feeble! They will soon be stilled. But do not look so terrified, Johannes, the sooner it is ended, the better. There could be no long walks now, no more seeking for violets together. With whom has he wandered these two years, do you think, while you were away? You can never ask him now. You can never know. If you had known me a little earlier you would not look so wretched now. You are a long way yet from being what you must become. Do you think that Doctor Cypher in your place would look as you do? It would sadden him no more than it does the cat blinking there in the sunshine. And it is best so. Of what use is brooding sorrow? Have the flowers learnt to grieve? They do not mourn if one of them is plucked. Is not that far happier? They know nothing, and that is why they are thus content. You have begun to know something; now you must learn everything to become happy. I alone can teach you. All, or nothing.
'Listen to me. What is there remarkable in your father's case? It is the death of a man—that is a common occurrence. Now do you hear the gasping? Weaker still! It must be very near the end!'
Johannes looked at the bed in agonised fear.
Simon the cat jumped down from the window-sill, stretched himself, and then, still purring, lay down on the bed by the dying man.
The poor weak head moved no longer; it lay still, sunk in the pillows, but the short, dull panting still came through the half-open mouth.