He laid his hands upon Johannes' shoulders, and chattered close to his ear. "That child thought you just as much a fool as the others did. Did you not see that she stayed in the corner, and said not a word when they all laughed at you? She is no better than the others. She thought you a nice little boy, and she played with you--just as she would have played with a May-bug. She cannot have cared about your going away. And she knows nothing about that book. But I do--I know where it is, and I will help you find it. I know nearly everything." And Johannes began to believe him. "Are you going with me? Will you search for it with me?" "I am so tired," said Johannes. "Let me go to sleep somewhere." "I care nothing for sleep," said Pluizer. "I am too lively for that. A person ought always to be looking and thinking. But I will leave you in peace for a little while--till morning comes." Then he put on the friendliest face he could. Johannes looked straight into the glittering little eyes until he could see nothing else. His head grew heavy--he leaned against the mossy slope. The little eyes seemed to get farther and farther away until they were shining stars in the darkening sky. He thought he heard the sound of distant voices, as if the earth were moving away from him--and then he ceased to think at all. [1] Pluizer = Shredder. X Even before he was fully awake he had a vague idea that something unusual had occurred while he slept. Still, he was not curious to know what it was, nor to look about him. He would he were lapped again in the dream which, like a reluctant mist, was slowly drifting away. Robinetta had come to him again in the dream, and stroked his hair in the old way; and he had seen his father once more, and Presto, in the garden with the pond. "Auch! That hurt. Who did that?" Johannes opened his eyes, and saw, in the grey dawn, close beside him, a small being who had been pulling his hair. He was lying in a bed, and the light was dim and wavering--as in a room. But the face that bent over him brought back, at once, all the misery and gloom of the day before. It was Pluizer's face--less like a hobgoblin, and more human--but just as ugly and frightful as ever. "Oh, let me dream!" he murmured. But Pluizer shook him. "Are you mad, you lazy boy? Dreams are foolish, and keep one from getting on. A human being must work and think and seek. That is what you are human for." "I do not want to be a human being. I want to dream." "Whether you wish to or not--you must. You are in my charge now, and you are going to act, and seek, in my company. With me alone can you find what you desire, and I shall not leave you until we have found it." Johannes felt a vague terror. Yet a superior power seemed to press and coerce him. Unresistingly, he resigned himself. Gone were fields and flowers and trees. He was in a small, dimly-lighted room. Outside, as far as he could see, were houses and houses--dark and dingy--in long, monotonous rows.