Johannes had seen a huge bat coming toward him, but when he looked up, a swarthy mannikin, not much taller than himself, was standing on the dunes. It had a great head, with big ears, that stood out—dark—against the bright evening sky, and a lean little body with slim legs. Of his face Johannes could see only the small, glittering eyes.
"Have you lost anything, little fellow? If so, I will help you seek it," said he. But Johannes silently shook his head.
"Look! Would you like these?" he began again, opening his hand. Johannes saw there something white, that from time to time barely stirred. It was the two white butterflies—dead—with the torn and broken little wings still quivering. Johannes shivered, as though some one had blown on the back of his neck, and he looked up in alarm at the strange being.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Would you like to know my name, Chappie? Well, just call me Pluizer[1]—simply Pluizer. I have still prettier names, but that you do not yet understand."
"Are you a human being?"
"Better yet! Still, I have arms and legs and a head—just see what a head! And yet the boy asks if I'm a human being! Well, Johannes, Johannes!" And the mannikin laughed with a shrill, piercing sound.
"How do you know who I am?" asked Johannes.
"Oh, that is a trifle for me! I know a great deal more. I know where you came from, and what you came here to do. I know an astonishing lot—almost everything."
"Ah! Mr. Pluizer...."