The Quest

"You must come out because I want to go in. Do you hear? You bald dirt-eater!"

The worm stretched his pointed head cautiously out of the opening, felt all around with it a number of times, and then slowly dragged his bare, ringed body farther toward the surface.

Pluizer looked round at the other creatures that were crowding about him in their curiosity.

"One of you go before us to light the way. No, Black-beetle, you are too big; and you, with the thousand feet – you would make me dizzy. Hey, there, Earwig, I fancy your looks! Come along, and carry the light in your pincers. Bundle away, Black-beetle, and look around for a will-o'-the-wisp, or bring a torch of rottenwood."

The creatures, awed by his commanding voice, obeyed him.

Then they went down into the worm-hole – the earwig in front with the shining wood, then Pluizer, then Johannes. It was a very dark and narrow passage. Johannes saw the grains of sand dimly lighted by the faint bluish flicker of the torch. They looked as large as stones – half polished, and rubbed to a smooth, firm wall by the body of the worm, who now followed, full of curiosity. Johannes saw behind him its pointed head – now thrust quickly out in front, and then waiting for the long part behind to pull up to it.

They went in silence a long way down. When the path became too steep for Johannes, Pluizer helped him. It seemed as if there never would be an end; ever new sand-grains, and still the earwig crept on, turning and bending with the winding of the passage. At last the way widened and the walls fell apart. The sand-grains were black and wet, forming a vault above, where the water trickled in glistening streaks, and through which the roots of trees were stretched like stiffened serpents.

Suddenly, a perpendicular wall – high and black – rose up before Johannes' sight, cutting off everything in front of him. The earwig turned round.

"Hey, ho! Now it is a question of getting behind that. The worm knows all about it; he is at home here."

"Come, show us the way!" said Pluizer.

The worm slowly pulled its articulate body up to the black wall, and touched and tested it. Johannes saw that it was of wood. Here and there it was decayed into brownish powder. In one of these places the worm bored through, and with three push-and-pulls the long, supple body slipped within.

"Now you!" said Pluizer, and he shoved Johannes into the little round opening. For an instant, the latter thought he should be stifled in the soft, moist mold; then he felt his head free, and with some trouble he worked his way completely through. A large space appeared to lie beyond. The floor was hard and damp – the air thick, and intolerably close. Johannes dared scarcely to breathe, and waited in mute terror.

He heard Pluizer's voice. It had a hollow ring, as if in a great cellar.

"Here, Johannes, follow me."

He felt the ground rise up before him to a mountain. With the aid of Pluizer's hand he climbed this, in deepest darkness. He seemed to be walking over a garment that gave way under his tread. He stumbled over hollows and hillocks, following Pluizer, who led him to a level spot where he clung in place by some long stems that bent in his hands like reeds.

"Here is a good place to stop. A light!" cried Pluizer.

The dim light showed in the distance, rising and falling with its bearer. The nearer it came and the more its faint glow filled the space, the more terrible was Johannes' distress.

The mountain he had traveled over was long and white. The reeds to which he was clinging were brown, and fell below in lustrous rings and waves.

He recognized the straight form of a human being; and the cold level on which he stood was the forehead.

Before him, like two deep dark caverns, lay the insunken eyes, and the blue light shone over the thin nose, and the ashen lips opened in a rigid, dismal death-grin.

Pluizer gave a shrill laugh, that was immediately stifled by the damp, wooden walls.

"Is not this a surprise, Johannes?"

The long worm came creeping on between the folds of the shroud; it pushed itself cautiously up over the chin, and slipped through the rigid lips into the black mouth-hole.

"This was the beauty of the ball – the one you thought more lovely than an elf. Then, sweet perfume streamed from her clothes and hair; then her eyes sparkled, and her lips laughed. Look now at her!"

With all his terror, there was doubt in Johannes' eyes. So soon? Just now so glorious – and already…?

"Do you not believe me?" sneered Pluizer. "A half-century lies between then and now. There is neither hour nor time. What once was shall always be, and what is to be has already been. You cannot conceive of it, but you must believe it. Here all is truth – all that I show you is true – true! Windekind could not say that."

And with a grin Pluizer skipped around on the dead face, performing the most odious antics. He sat on an eyebrow, and lifted up an eyelid by the long lashes. The eye which Johannes had seen sparkle with joy was staring in the dim light – a dull and wrinkled white.

"Now – forward!" cried Pluizer. "There happens to be more to see."

The worm appeared, slowly crawling out of the right corner of the mouth; and the frightful journey was resumed. Not back again, but over new ways equally long and dreary.

"Now we come to an old one," said the earth-worm, as a black wall again shut off the way. "This has been here a long time."

It was less horrible than the former one. Johannes only saw a confused heap, with discolored bones protruding. Hundreds of worms and insects were silently busy with it. The light alarmed them.

"Where do you come from? Who brings a light here? We have no use for it!"

And they sped away into the folds and hollows. Yet they recognized a fellow-being.

"Have you been next door?" the worms inquired. "The wood is hard yet."

The first worm answered, "No!"

"He wants to keep that morsel for himself," said Pluizer softly to Johannes.

They went farther. Pluizer explained things and pointed out to Johannes those whom he had known. They came to a misformed face, with staring, protruding eyes, and thick black lips and cheeks.

"This was a stately gentleman," said he gaily. "You ought to have seen him – so rich, so purse-proud and conceited. He retains his puffed-up appearance."

And so it went on. Besides these there were meagre, emaciated forms with white hair that reflected blue in the feeble light; and little children with large heads and aged, wizened faces.

"Look! These have grown old since they died," said Pluizer.

They came to a man with a full beard, whose white teeth gleamed between the drawn lips. In the middle of his forehead was a little round black hole.

"This one lent Hein a helping hand. Why not a bit more patient? He would have come here just the same."

And there were still more passages – recent ones – and other straight forms with rigid, grinning faces, and motionless, folded hands.

"I am going no farther now," said the earwig. "I do not know the way beyond this."

"Let us turn back," said the worm.

"One more, one more!" cried Pluizer.

So on they marched.

"Everything you see exists," said Pluizer as they proceeded. "It is all real. One thing only is not real. That is yourself, Johannes. You are not here, and you cannot be here."

And he burst out laughing as he saw the frightened and vacant look on Johannes' face at this sally.

"This is the last – actually the last."