Little Johannes Part 22

The Doctor began his examination, and Johannes went away from the bed-side and stood by the window, looking out at the sunlit gra.s.s and broad chestnut leaves on which large flies were sitting which shone blue in the sun.

The groaning began again with the same regularity.

A blackbird was hopping among the tali gra.s.s, large red and black b.u.t.terflies fluttered over the flower-beds, and from the topmost boughs of the highest trees a soft, tender cooing of wood-pigeons, fell on Johannes's ear. In the room the moaning went on--without ceasing. He could not help listening--and it came as regularly, as inevitably as the falling drip which may drive a man mad. He watched anxiously at every interval and it always came again--as awful as the approaching footsteps of Death.

And outside, warm and rapturous delight in the sunshine reigned.

Everything was basking and happy. The blades of gra.s.s thrilled and the leaves whispered for sheer gladness. High above the trees in the deep, distant blue, a heron was soaring on lazy wing.

Johannes did not understand--it was all a mystery to him. Everything was confused and dark in his soul--

'How can all this exist in me at the same time?' thought he. 'Am I really myself? Is that my father--my own father? Mine--Johannes's?' And it was as though a stranger spoke.

It was all a tale which he had heard. He had heard some one tell of Johannes, and of the house where he dwelt with his father from whom he had run away, and who was now dying. This was not himself--he had only heard of it all; and indeed it was a sad story,--very sad. But it had nothing to do with him.

And yet--and yet.--It was he himself, Johannes.

'I cannot understand the case,' said Doctor Cypher, pulling himself up.

'It is a very mysterious attack.'

Pluizer came up to Johannes.

'Come and look, Johannes; it is a very interesting case. The Doctor knows nothing about it.'

'Leave me alone,' said Johannes, without turning round. 'I cannot think.'

But Pluizer went close behind him and whispered sharply in his ear, as was his wont--

'You cannot think? Did you fancy that you could not think? That is a mistake. You must think. Staring out like this at the green gra.s.s and the blue sky will do no good. Windekind will not come to you. And the sick man is sinking fast; that you must have seen as clearly as we did.

But what is his disorder, do you think?'

'I do not know!--I do not want to know!'

Johannes said no more, but listened to the moaning; it sounded like a gentle complaint and reproach. Doctor Cypher was taking notes in a book.

At the head of the bed sat the dark figure which had followed them in; his head was bowed, his lean hand extended towards the sick man, and his hollow eyes steadfastly gazing at the clock.

That sharp whisper in his ear began again.

'Why are you so unhappy, Johannes? You have got what you wished for.

There lie the sand-hills, there is the sunshine through the verdure, there are the dancing b.u.t.terflies, the singing birds. What more do you want? Are you waiting for Windekind? If he exists anywhere, it must be there. Why does he not come to you? He is frightened, no doubt, by our dark friend by the bed. He always has been afraid of him. Don't you see, Johannes, that it was all fancy? And listen to the moaning. It is weaker than it was just now. You can hear that it will soon cease altogether.

Well, and what matter? Many folks must have groaned just so when you were at play here among the wild roses. Why do you now sit here grieving instead of going out to the sand-hills as you used to do? Look! Out there everything is as flowery and fragrant as if nothing had happened.

Why do you care no more for all the gladness of that life?

'First you complained and longed to be here. Now I have brought you where you yearned to be, and yet you are not content. See. I will let you go--go out into the tall gra.s.s, lie in the cool shade, let the flies hum about you, and breathe the perfume of growing herbs. You are free!

Go. Find Windekind once more. You will not? Then do you now believe in me alone? Is all I have told you true? Am I or is Windekind the false one?

'Listen to the moans! So short and feeble! They will soon be stilled.

But do not look so terrified, Johannes, the sooner it is ended, the better. There could be no long walks now, no more seeking for violets together. With whom has he wandered these two years, do you think, while you were away? You can never ask him now. You can never know. If you had known me a little earlier you would not look so wretched now. You are a long way yet from being what you must become. Do you think that Doctor Cypher in your place would look as you do? It would sadden him no more than it does the cat blinking there in the sunshine. And it is best so. Of what use is brooding sorrow? Have the flowers learnt to grieve?

They do not mourn if one of them is plucked. Is not that far happier?

They know nothing, and that is why they are thus content. You have begun to know something; now you must learn everything to become happy. I alone can teach you. All, or nothing.

'Listen to me. What is there remarkable in your father's case? It is the death of a man--that is a common occurrence. Now do you hear the gasping? Weaker still! It must be very near the end!'

Johannes looked at the bed in agonised fear.

Simon the cat jumped down from the window-sill, stretched himself, and then, still purring, lay down on the bed by the dying man.

The poor weak head moved no longer; it lay still, sunk in the pillows, but the short, dull panting still came through the half-open mouth.

It grew weaker and weaker till it was scarcely audible.

Then Death took his hollow eyes off the clock and looked at the weary head; he raised his hand. Then all was still.

A grey shadow fell on the rigid features.

Silence, oppressive, unbroken silence!

Johannes sat and sat, waiting. But the regular sound was heard no more.

All was still--a great, murmuring stillness.

The tension of the last hours of listening was over, and to Johannes it seemed that his soul had been let fall down into black and bottomless s.p.a.ce. Deeper and deeper he fell. All about him grew darker and more silent.

Then he heard Pluizer's voice as if it were a long way off.

'There! That tale is told.'

'That is well,' said Doctor Cypher. 'Now you can see what was wrong with him. I leave that to you. I must be off.'

Still, as if half-dreaming, Johannes saw the gleam of bright knives. The cat set her back up. It was cold by the corpse, and she returned to the sunshine.

Johannes saw Pluizer take a knife, which he examined carefully, and then went up to the bed.

Then he shook off his lethargy. Before Pluizer could get to the bed he stood in front of him.

'What do you want?' he asked. His eyes were wide open with horror.

'We must see what he died of,' said Pluizer.

'No,' said Johannes, and his voice was as deep as a man's.

'What is the meaning of this?' said Pluizer, with a glare of rage. 'Can you hinder me? Do you not know how strong I am?'

'I will not have it,' said Johannes. He drew a deep breath and set his teeth, staring firmly at Pluizer, and put out his hand against him.

But Pluizer came nearer. Then Johannes gripped him by the wrists and struggled with him.

Pluizer was strong; he knew that; nothing had ever been able to resist him. But he did not leave go, and his will was steadfast.

The knife gleamed before his eyes; he seemed to see sparks and red flames, but he did not give in, and wrestled on. He knew what would happen if he yielded. He knew--he had seen it before. But that which lay behind him was his father, and he would not see it now.