"Presto," said he then, while the tears sprang to his eyes, "Presto, then it is true!"
Presto sprang up and tried, by barking, to make it clear to his master that he was hungry and wanted to go home.
To the house? Johannes had not thought of that, and cared little to return. But soon he heard different voices calling his name. Then he began to realize that his behavior would be considered neither kind nor courteous; and that, for a long time to come, there would be no friendly words in store for him.
For an instant, at the first trouble, his tears of joy were very nearly turned into those of fear and regret. But when he thought about Windekind, who now was his friend—his friend and confidant—of the elf-king's gift, and of the glorious, indisputable truth of all that had occurred, he took his way home, calm and prepared for anything.
But the meeting was more difficult than he expected. He had not fully anticipated the fear and distress of the household over his absence. He was urged to promise solemnly that he never again would be so naughty and imprudent.
"I cannot do so," said he, resolutely. They were surprised at that. He was interrogated, coaxed, threatened; but he thought of Windekind and remained stubborn. What could it matter if only he held Windekind's friendship—and what would he not be willing to suffer for Windekind's sake! He pressed the little key close to his breast, and shut his lips together, while he answered every question with a shrug of his shoulders. "I cannot promise," said he, again.
But his father said: "It is a serious matter with him—we will let him be, now. Something unusual must have happened. Sometime, he will tell us about it."
Johannes smiled, silently ate his bread and butter, and then slipped away to his little bedroom. There, he snipped oft a bit of the curtain cord, strung his precious key upon it, and hung it around his neck, on his bare breast. Then, comforted, he went to school.
It went very badly that day at school. He knew none of his lessons, and paid absolutely no attention. His thoughts flew continually to the pond, and to the marvelous happenings of the evening before. He could scarcely believe that a friend of the elf-king could again be obliged to figure sums, and conjugate verbs.
But it had all truly been, and not one of those around him knew anything about it. No one could believe or understand—not even the master—no matter how fierce he looked, nor how scornfully he called Johannes a lazy dog. He endured the angry comments with resignation and performed the tasks which his absent-mindedness brought upon him.