Here the narrator's voice failed him. It was only after a pause of silent meditation, while his three hearers reverently kept silence, that he went on: 'You have guessed the rest. My gentle bride, the brightest and most sparkling of her kind, had disappeared, carried away by cruel men. The peaceful, moist grass plot was trodden down, and her favourite place by the stream was dark and desolate. I was alone in the world.' Here the tender-hearted rabbit again used his ear to wipe a tear from his eyes. 'From that night I am an altered creature. I have a horror of all vain amusements. I think only of her whom I have lost, and of the time when I may see her again.' 'What, have you still a hope?' asked the rabbit in surprise. 'I have more than hope; I have assurance. Up there I shall see my beloved once more.' 'But--' the rabbit put in. 'Rab,' said the glow-worm solemnly, 'I can understand the doubts of those who must feel their way in the dark. But to those who can see with their own eyes!--then all doubt is to me incomprehensible. There!' cried the glow-worm, looking reverently up at the twinkling, starry sky, 'I see them there! All my ancestors, all my friends,--and she among them--they shine up there in still greater radiance than here on earth. Ah! when shall I be released from this lower life and fly to her who twinkles at me so tenderly. When, ah! when?' The glow-worm turned away with a sigh, and crept back into the dark again. 'Poor fellow!' said the rabbit, 'I hope he may be right.' 'I hope so too,' added Johannes. 'I have my fears,' said Windekind. 'But it was very interesting.' 'Dear Windekind,' Johannes began, 'I am very tired and sleepy.' 'Come close to me, then, and I will cover you with my cloak.' Windekind took off his blue mantle and spread it over Johannes and himself. So they lay down together in the sweet moss on the down, their arms round each other's necks. 'Your heads lie rather low,' cried the rabbit. 'Will you rest them against me?' And so they did. 'Good-night, mother!' said Windekind to the Moon. And Johannes shut his hand tight on the little golden key, laid his head on the downy fur of the good-natured rabbit, and slept soundly. [Footnote 1: The child of the bindweed.] III 'Well, where is he, Presto? Where is your little master then?' How alarming to wake in the boat among the reeds--quite alone--the master vanished entirely! this is something indeed to be frightened at. And now run about, hunting on all sides with timid little whinings, poor Presto! How could you sleep so soundly as not to notice when your master left the boat? Generally you are wont to wake if only he moves a little. Here--you can see here where your master landed; but now you are on land the track is very much confused. All your busy snuffing is in vain! What a misfortune! The little master gone, quite lost! Seek, Presto, seek him then!