'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. And while he panted and struggled, the dead body lay stretched out motionless, just as it was lying when the silence fell; the white of the eyes visible through a narrow opening, the corners of the mouth curled to a ghastly smile. Only as the two knocked against the bed in their wrestling, the head gently moved a little. Still Johannes held his own. His breath came hard and he could not see; a blood-red mist was before his eyes--and still he stood firm. Then gradually the resistance of those wrists grew weaker in his grasp, his muscles relaxed, his arms fell limp by his sides and his clenched hands were empty. When he looked up Pluizer had vanished. Death sat alone by the bed and nodded to him. 'That was well done, Johannes,' said he. 'Will he come back again?' whispered Johannes. Death shook his head. 'Never. Those who have once defied him, never see him again.' 'And Windekind? Shall I ever see Windekind again?' The gloomy man gazed long at Johannes. His look was no longer terrible, but gentle and grave. It seemed to allure Johannes like some great deep. 'I alone can take you to Windekind. Through me alone can you find the Book.' 'Then take me too, there is no one left. Take me with you as you have taken others. I want nothing more.' But again Death shook his head. 'You love men, Johannes. You do not know it, but you have always loved them. You must grow up to be a good man. It is a very fine thing to be a good man.' 'I do not want that--take me with you.' 'You are mistaken; you do want it; you cannot help it.' The tall dark figure became dim in Johannes' sight--it melted into a vague shape--a formless grey mist filled its place and floated away on the sunbeams. Johannes bowed his head on the edge of the bed and mourned for the dead man. XIV It was long before he looked up again. The sun's rays fell aslant into the room and were glowing red, looking like straight bars of gold. 'Father, father!' whispered Johannes. Outside, the sun filled the whole atmosphere with a cloud of glittering golden fire. Every leaf was motionless, and all was still in the solemn, holy sunshine. A low sighing chant came down on the sun's rays; it was as though they were singing: 'Child of the Sun--Child of the Sun!' Johannes raised his head and listened. It was in his ears, 'Child of the Sun--Child of the Sun!'