At this moment there came suddenly from the distance an alarming sound--a short, hoarse, resounding roar that echoed through the forest. "The lion!" cried Wistik; and away he went, as fast as he could run. Johannes also was greatly frightened. He knew it was time to leave, but he would not go quite yet. He asked, imploringly: "Father Pan, shall I find the book?" "Remember what I said to you," replied Pan. "Vraagal can do what Vraagal wills to do. To will is to do. But it must be the right sort of will." Again that frightful roar resounded, this time much nearer. Johannes stretched out his hand, hesitating between his mounting fears, and his desire to make use of an instant more. "One more question!" he cried. "Who is Markus?" At that, he saw Pan's eyes distend, and stare at him with a look full of intense emotion. He seemed as fiercely sorrowful as a wounded animal; and, until now, Johannes had not observed what beautiful great eyes he had. He lifted up his outspread hands--then covered his face with them, and began to weep and wail, loudly. The air grew dense and dark, and a heavy shower descended. Then, for the third time, the lion roared.... VIII "It's a downright shame!" said Daatje, snappishly, while unfastening the third shutter, which opened with a shriek and a rumble. "Half past-nine--on Saturday, at that--and the room to be tidied up! You'll catch it from Aunt Seréna. Half-past nine! It's a downright shame!" Johannes was not pleased with this familiarity, as if he were still a mere child; and, in a rebellious spirit, without quite understanding his own object, he muttered: "This thing's got to end." With Aunt Seréna, disapproval was expressed in a manner very different from that in a kermis-wagon. There was no swearing, nor scolding, nor any din; and no cooking utensils flew out of the window. But Aunt Seréna would grow a little paler, her fine face become cold and severe like marble, and the very few words that fell from her lips would be short and spoken in a soft, low voice. She knew how, though, to make one so uncomfortable in this way, that he would rather she had thrown a piece of the tea-set at his head. Johannes, however, neither felt, nor evinced, any remorse. On the contrary, he assumed an independent bearing. He was not saucy, but wonderfully indifferent; neither was he morose, but cheerful and obliging; for his thoughts were full of that beautiful land and its noble people, and of his good Father Pan. Aunt Seréna, herself, felt a little disconcerted.