'But—' the rabbit put in.
'Rab,' said the glow-worm solemnly, 'I can understand the doubts of those who must feel their way in the dark. But to those who can see with their own eyes!—then all doubt is to me incomprehensible. There!' cried the glow-worm, looking reverently up at the twinkling, starry sky, 'I see them there! All my ancestors, all my friends,—and she among them—they shine up there in still greater radiance than here on earth. Ah! when shall I be released from this lower life and fly to her who twinkles at me so tenderly. When, ah! when?'
The glow-worm turned away with a sigh, and crept back into the dark again.
'Poor fellow!' said the rabbit, 'I hope he may be right.'
'I hope so too,' added Johannes.
'I have my fears,' said Windekind. 'But it was very interesting.'
'Dear Windekind,' Johannes began, 'I am very tired and sleepy.'
'Come close to me, then, and I will cover you with my cloak.'
Windekind took off his blue mantle and spread it over Johannes and himself. So they lay down together in the sweet moss on the down, their arms round each other's necks.
'Your heads lie rather low,' cried the rabbit. 'Will you rest them against me?' And so they did.