"Really! Do you still hope to?" said the rabbit, rejoiced.
"I more than hope—I am certain. In heaven I shall see my beloved again."
"But—" the rabbit objected.
"Bunnie," said the glow-worm, gravely, "I can understand that one who was obliged to grope about in the dark might doubt, but when one can see, with his own eyes! That puzzles me. There!" said the glow-worm, gazing reverently up at the star-dotted skies; "there I behold them—all my forefathers, all my friends, and her, too, more gloriously radiant than when here upon earth. Ah, when shall I be able to rise up out of this lower life, and fly to her who beckons me so winsomely? When, ah, when?"
With a sigh, the glow-worm turned away from his listeners and crept back again into the dark passage.
"Poor creature!" said the rabbit. "I hope he is right."
"I hope so too," added Johannes.
"I have my doubts," said Windekind, "but it was very touching."
"Dear Windekind," began Johannes, "I am very tired and sleepy."
"Then come close to me, and I will cover you with my mantle."