"No one. His time had come."
"But why, then, was he so sad when I asked him about you?"
"The flower must perish if the fruit is to ripen. A child cries when night comes and it is time to sleep, because he wants to play longer and does not know that rest is better for him. All people who continue to be like children cry about death, which is only a birth and full of joyful anticipations."
"Have Pan and Windekind known you, Brother?"
"No, but they have feared me, as the lesser fears the greater."
"Will your kingdom, then, be more beautiful than theirs?"
"As much more beautiful as the sun is brighter than the moon. But the weak, the frail and timid ones who live in the night-time, will not perceive this, and will fear the glorious sun."
For a long time Johannes thought this over. In the far, smoky valley with its mines and factories, a clock struck—farther away another—in the distance still another. Thereupon followed the shrill screaming of steam-whistles, and the loud clanging of bells, and people could be seen pouring out of the workshops.
"How gloomy!" exclaimed Johannes.
Markus smiled. "The black seed also, in the dark ground, is gloomy, yet it grows to be a glad sunflower."