"Here we are again," said Windekind.
"Then did you not die with Father Pan?" asked Johannes, in astonishment.
"I live forever," said Windekind.
Johannes thought this over. He was tranquil again, as he always was here. Life, so rude and painful, seemed now very far away. He felt only calmness and contentment, although he well knew that his body still lay on the hard floor.
Then he asked, "Does not that bore you?"
Windekind laughed, and held out in front of him his flower, which he used as a staff. It was not an iris, but a strange, splendid blossom—a lily or an orchid—blue, striped with white and gold.
"Silly boy!" said he. "To be bored is to be no longer able to enjoy anything. I am not a human being, that gets bored after a few years. I am not weary of happiness."
"Never?" asked Johannes.
"That I do not know," answered Windekind; "but not yet. If life were to bore me, then I should die and return to my Father. He can never grow weary."
"And have you grown still wiser?"