'Now--now he will certainly come!' thought Johannes. He eagerly watched the leaf-buds on the trees as they slowly swelled day by day and freed themselves from the bark, till the first pale-green tips peeped out between the brown scales. Johannes would stand gazing for long at the little young leaves--he could never see them move, but if he only turned round, they seemed to have grown bigger. 'They dare not, so long as I am looking at them,' thought he. The shade had already begun to be green. Still Windekind did not come, no dove had settled near him, no little mouse had spoken to him. When he spoke to the flowers they merely nodded and never answered. 'My punishment is not yet ended,' thought he. One sunny spring morning he went to the pond by the great house. The windows were all wide open. Had the people who lived there come back? The bird-cherry which grew by the water-side was entirely covered with fresh leaves; every twig had a crop of delicate green winglets. On the grass by the tree lay a young girl; Johannes could only see that she had a light-blue dress and fair hair. A robin, sitting on her shoulder, fed out of her hand. She suddenly turned her head and looked at Johannes. 'Good-day, little man!' said she, with a friendly nod. Johannes felt a glow from head to foot. Those were Windekind's eyes; that was Windekind's voice. 'Who are you?' he asked. His lips trembled with excitement. 'I am Robinetta, and this is my bird. He will not be afraid of you. Are you fond of birds?' The Redbreast was not afraid of Johannes; it flew on to his arm. This was just as it used to be. The being in blue must be Windekind. 'And tell me what your name is, boy,' said Windekind's voice. 'Do you not know me? Do you not know that my name is Johannes?' 'How should I know that?' What did this mean? For it was the sweet familiar voice, and those were the same dark, heavenly-deep blue eyes. 'Why do you look at me so, Johannes? Have you ever seen me before?' 'Yes I have, indeed.' 'You must surely have dreamed it.' 'Dreamed it?' thought Johannes. 'Can I have dreamed it? Or can I be dreaming now?' 'Where were you born?' he inquired. 'A long way from hence, in a great town.' 'Among human beings?' Robinetta laughed--it was Windekind's laugh. 'Why, I should think so. Were not you?' 'Oh yes, I was too.' 'Do you object to that? Do you not like human beings?' 'No. Who could?' 'Who?--Well, Johannes, you are a very strange little boy. Do you like beasts better?' 'Oh, much better,--and flowers.' 'So do I myself sometimes; just for once in a while. But it is not right. We ought to love our fellow-men, my father says.' 'Why is it not right? I love whom I choose, whether it is right or not.' 'Fie, Johannes! Have you no parents or any one to take care of you? And do you not love them?' 'Yes,' said Johannes thoughtfully, 'I love my father. But not because it is right--nor yet because he is a man.' 'Why then?'