The Quest

Johannes watched – until the sun's disk touched the farthest end of that glowing path which led up to him.

Then he looked down, and very near was the bright form that he had followed. A boat, clear and glistening as crystal, drifted near the shore upon the broad, fiery way. At one end of the boat stood Windekind, alert and slender, with that golden object in his hand. At the other end, Johannes recognized the dark figure of Death.

"Windekind! Windekind!" cried Johannes. But as he approached the marvelous boat, he also looked toward the horizon. In the middle of the glowing space, surrounded by great fiery clouds, he saw a small, black figure. It grew larger and larger, and a man slowly drew near, calmly walking on the tossing fiery waters.

The glowing red waves rose and fell beneath his feet, but he walked tranquilly onward.

The man's face was pale, and his eyes were dark and deep – deep as the eyes of Windekind; but there was an infinitely gentle melancholy in their look such as Johannes had never seen in any other eyes.

"Who are you?" asked Johannes. "Are you a man?"

"I am more," was the reply.

"Art Thou Jesus – Art Thou God?" asked Johannes.

"Speak not those names!" said the figure. "They were holy and pure as sacerdotal robes, and precious as nourishing corn; yet they have become as husks before swine, and a jester's garb for fools. Name them not, for their meaning has become perverted, their worship a mockery. Let him who would know me cast aside those names and listen to himself."

"I know Thee! I know Thee!" said Johannes.

"It was I who made you weep for men, while yet you did not understand your tears. It was I who caused you to love before you knew the meaning of your love. I was with you and you saw me not – I stirred your soul and you knew me not.

"Why do I first see Thee now?"

"The eyes which behold Me must be brightened by many tears. And not for yourself alone, but for Me, must you weep. Then I will appear to you and you shall recognize in Me an old friend."

"I know Thee! I recognized Thee! I want to be with Thee!"

Johannes stretched out his hands. But the man pointed to the glittering boat that was slowly drifting out upon the fiery path.

"Look!" said he; "that is the way to all you have longed for. There is no other. Without those two shall you not find it. Take your choice. There is the Great Light; there you would yourself be what you long to know. There!" – and he pointed to the dark East – "where human nature and its sorrows arc, there lies my way. Not that errant light which has misled you, but I, will be your guide. You know now. Take your choice."

Then Johannes slowly turned away his eyes from Windekind's beckoning figure, and reached out his hands to the serious man. And with his guide, he turned to meet the chill night wind, and to tread the dreary road to the great, dark town where humanity was, with all its misery.

Sometime I may tell you more about Little Johannes; but it will not be like a fairy tale.

PART II

I

I have said that I might perhaps have something more to tell about Little Johannes. Surely you have not thought I would not keep my word! People are not so very trustful in these days, nor so patient, either.

But now I am going to put you to confusion, by telling you what else happened to Little Johannes. Listen! It is worth your while. And the best thing of all is that it will be rather like a fairy story – even more so than what I have already told you.

And yet it is all true. Yes, it all really truly happened. Perhaps you will again be inclined to doubt; but when you are older – much, much older – you will perceive how true it is. It will be so much more pleasant for you to have faith in it, that I wish from my heart you may be able to. If you cannot, I am sorry for you; but at least be truthful. Therefore skip nothing, but read it all.

And should you happen to meet Johannes, I give you leave to speak with him about these matters, and to give him my regards. He might not answer, but he will not be offended. He is still rather small, but he has grown a bit.

The fine weather did not continue far into the evening. The splendid clouds which Johannes had seen above the sea, and out of which strode that dark figure, now betokened a thunder-storm. Before he reached the middle of the dunes again, the sunset sky and the starry heavens were obscured, and a wild, exhausting wind, filled with fine, misty rain, swept him on. Behind him the lightning played above the sea, and the thunder rolled as if the heavens were being torn asunder, and the planks of its floor tossed one by one into a great garret.

Johannes was not alarmed, but very happy. He felt the close clasp of a warm, firm hand. It seemed as if he never yet had clung to a hand so perfect and so life-giving. Even the hand of Windekind seemed flimsy and feeble compared with this.

He thought that he now had reached the end of all his puzzles and difficulties. This may also have occurred to you. But how could that be possible when he was still such a mere stripling, and did not yet comprehend one half of all the marvelous things that had befallen him!

It may be that all has been plain to you. But it was not to him, although he may have thought so. He was yet only a little fellow without beard or moustache, and his voice was still that of a boy.

"My friend," said he to his Guide, "I know now that I have been bad – very bad. But now that you have come and I can cling to your hand, can I not redeem my faults? Is there still time?"

The dark figure kept silently and steadily on beside him in the storm and darkness. Johannes could see neither his eyes nor his features; he only heard the swishing and flapping of his garments – heavy with the rain. Then he asked again, somewhat anxiously, because the consolation he was yearning for was longer delayed than he expected:

"May I not sometime call myself a friend of yours? Am I not yet worthy of that? I have always so wanted to have a friend! That was the best thing in life, I thought – really the only thing I cared about. And now I have lost all my friends – my dog, Windekind, and my father. Am I too bad to deserve a true friend?"

Then there came an answer:

"When you can be a true friend, Johannes, then indeed you will find one."

There was consolation in the soft, low tones, and there was love and forgiveness; but the words were torturing.

"Bad, bad!" muttered Johannes, setting his teeth together. He wanted to cry, but he could not do that. That would have been to pity himself, and that was not in accordance with his Guide's reply. He had not been a good friend to his dog, nor to Windekind, nor to his father. He wished now that he could at once make amends for everything, but that could not be. It had been made clear.

It was desolate on the dunes, and dark as pitch. The wind was whistling through the reeds and the dwarf poplars, but there was nothing to be seen. How far away seemed the quiet sunlight now, the playful animals, and the flowers! Silently and swiftly the two strode on along a winding cart-track through the deep, wet sand, now and then stumbling over the ruts. It was the road that led to the town.

"I shall – " began Johannes again, resolutely lifting his head. But there he halted.

"Who says 'I shall'? Who knows what he will do? Can Johannes say, I am?"

"I am sorry and I am ashamed, and I wish to be better," said Johannes.

"That is well," said the soft low voice. And the tears started in Johannes' eyes. He clung close to his Guide, trembling slightly as they went.

"Teach me, my Father. I want to know how to be better."

"Not 'Father,' Johannes. We both have the same Father. You must call me Brother."

At that word Johannes looked timidly up at his Guide with startled face and wide-open eyes. In a flash of the steel-blue lightning, Johannes saw the pale brow, with the dark eyes turned kindly toward him. The hair of his Guide was matted and dripping with water, as were also his beard and his moustache. The locks clung to his white gleaming forehead, and his eyes glowed with an inner light. Johannes felt a boundless love and adoration, and at the same time an inexpressible compassion. "My brother!" thought he. "Oh, good, good man!"

And he said: "How wet you are! Put my jacket over your head. I do not need it."

But in the darkness his hand was gently restrained, and they hurried on while the sweat and the rain were commingled upon their faces.

After a while his Guide said to him:

"Johannes, pay attention to me, for I am going to say something to you that you must bear in mind. Your true life is only now beginning, and it is difficult to live a good life. If only you could remember what I am now telling you, you would never again be unhappy. Neither life nor people would be able to make you unhappy. And yet it will not prove thus – because you will forget."

There was silence for a while, broken only by the whistling of the wind, the flapping of their garments, and their rapid breathing – for they were walking very fast.

"Train your memory, therefore; for without an exact and retentive memory nothing good is attained. And mark this well; not the small and transient must you be mindful of, but the great and the eternal."

Then there was a flash of lightning, and it seemed as if the heavens were being consumed in the white fire, while a terrific peal of thunder immediately followed, directly over their heads.