The solemn man looked long and earnestly at Johannes. His regard was not now alarming, but gentle and serious, and attracted Johannes like a profound depth. "I alone can take you to Windekind. Through me alone can you find the book." "Then take me with you. There is no one left--take me, too! I want nothing more." Again Death shook his head. "You love men, Johannes. You do not know it, but you have always loved them. You must become a good man. It is a fine thing to be a good man." "I do not want that--take me with you!" "You mistake--you do want it: you cannot help it." Then the tall, dark figure grew vague before Johannes' eyes--it faded into a filmy, grey mist adrift in, the room--and passed away along the sunbeams. Johannes bowed his head upon the side of the bed, and sobbed for the dead man. XIV A long time afterward, he lifted up his head. The sunbeams shone obliquely in, bringing a rosy glow. They resembled straight bars of gold. "Father, father!" whispered Johannes. Outside, the sun was pouring over everything a flood of shining, golden, glowing splendor. Every leaf hung motionless, and all was hushed in solemn worship of the sun. Along with the light there fell into the room a gentle soughing--as if the sunbeams were singing. "Sun-son! Sun-son!" Johannes lifted up his head, and listened. It tingled in his ears. "Sun-son! Sun-son!" It was like Windekind's voice. He alone had named him that; should he call him now? But he looked at the face beside him. He would listen no more. "Poor, dear father!" he said. But suddenly it rang again around him from all sides, so loud, so penetrating, that he trembled with his marvelous emotion. "Sun-son! Sun-son!" Johannes stood up and gazed outside. What light! What splendid light! It streamed over the high tree tops, it glistened amid the grass-blades, and sparkled in the shadow-patches. The whole air was filled with it up to the very sky where the first exquisite sunset clouds were flecking the blue. Beyond the meadow, between the green trees and shrubs, he saw the dunes. Red gold lay along their slopes, and in their shadows hung the blue of the heavens. They lay stretched out reposefully in their robe of tender tints. The delicate undulations of their expanse brought a benediction--as does prayer. Johannes felt again as he had felt when Windekind taught him how to pray. Was not that he, there, in the blue garment? Look! there in the heart of the light--shimmering in a maze of blue and gold. Was not that Windekind, beckoning him? Johannes flew out of doors into the sunlight. For an instant he stood still. He felt the holy solemnity of the light, and scarcely dared to move where the foliage was so still.