Johannes looked hard into his little twinkling eyes till he could see nothing else. His head was heavy and he lay down on the mossy knoll. The little eyes seemed to go further and further from him till they were starry specks in the dark sky; he fancied he heard the sound of distant voices, as though the earth beneath him were going away and away--and then he ceased to think at all.
Even before he was fairly awake, he was vaguely conscious that something strange had happened to him while he slept. Still he was not anxious to know what, or to look about him. He would rather return to the dream which was slowly fading like a rising mist--Robinetta had come to be with him again, and had stroked his hair as she used to do--and he had seen his father once more, and Presto, in the garden with the pool.
'Oh! That hurt! Who did that?' Johannes opened his eyes, and in the grey morning light, he saw a little man standing at his side who had pulled his hair. He himself was in bed, and the light was dim and subdued, as in a room.
But the face which bent over him at once carried him back to all the misery and distress of the past evening. It was Pluizer's face, less boguey-like and more human, but as ugly and terrifying as ever.
But Pluizer shook him. 'Are you crazy, sluggard? Dreaming is folly; you will never get any further by that. A man must work and think and search; that is what you are a man for.'
'I do not want to be a man. I want to dream.'
'I cannot help that; you must. You are now in my charge, and you must work and seek with me. With me alone can you ever find the thing you want. And I will not give in till we have found it.'
Johannes felt a vague dismay; still, a stronger will coerced and drove him. He involuntarily submitted.
The sand-hills, trees, and flowers had vanished. He was in a small dimly-lighted room; outside, as far as he could see, there were houses, and more houses, dingy and grey, in long dull rows. Smoke rose from every one of them in thick wreaths, and made a sort of brown fog in the streets. And along those streets men were hurrying, like great black ants. A mingled, dull clamour came up from the throng without ceasing.
'Look, Johannes,' said Pluizer. 'Now is not that a fine sight? Those are men, and all the houses, whichever way you look, and as far as you can see--even beyond the blue towers there--are full of men--quite full from top to bottom. Is not that wonderful? That is rather different from a sand-hill!'