"But the little book, Pluizer? You might let me find the book."
"Well, who knows! I have not forbidden it. We must seek—seek. We know, at least, what we are looking for. Wistik taught us that. Others there are who try all their lives to find out what they are really seeking. They are the philosophers, Johannes. But when Hein comes, it is all up with their search as well."
"That is frightful, Pluizer!"
"Oh, no! Indeed it is not. Hein is very good-hearted, but he is misunderstood."
Some one toiled up the stairs outside the chamber door—Clump! clump! on the wooden stairs.
Clump! clump! Nearer and nearer. Then some one rapped at the door, and it sounded like ice tapping on wood.
A tall man entered. He had deep-set eyes, and long, lean hands. A cold draft swept through the little room.
"Well, well!" said Pluizer. "We were just speaking of you. Take a seat. How goes it with you?"
"Busy, busy!" said the tall man, wiping the cold moisture from his white, bony forehead.
Stiff with fright, Johannes gazed into the deep-set eyes which were fixed upon him. They were very deep and dark, but not cruel—not threatening. After a few moments he breathed more freely, and his heart beat less rapidly.