The dew, like lunar daisies, lay thickly on the grassy graves. The marble statues of the departed seemed to flicker into smiles under the rays of the full moon; and, not far from the sycamore, two men were digging up a newly-made grave. One of them was a brawny fellow with the gold rings in his ears worn by sailors, the other was--Endymion Leer. Master Nathaniel shot a look of triumph at Master Ambrose, and whispered, "A cask of flower-in-amber, Brosie!" For some time the two men dug on in silence, and then they pulled out three large coffins and laid them on the grass. "We'd better have a peep, Sebastian," said Endymion Leer, "to see that the goods have been delivered all right. We're dealing with tricky customers." The young man, addressed as Sebastian, grinned, and taking a clasp knife from his belt, began to prise open one of the coffins. As he inserted the blade into the lid, our two friends behind the sycamore could not help shuddering; nor was their horror lessened by the demeanor of Mother Tibbs, for she half closed her eyes, and drew the air in sharply through her nostrils, as if in expectation of some delicious perfume. But when the lid was finally opened and the contents of the coffin exposed to view, they proved not to be cere cloths and hideousness, but--closely packed fairy fruit. "Toasted Cheese!" muttered Master Ambrose; "Busty Bridget!" muttered Master Nathaniel. "Yes, that's the goods all right," said Endymion Leer, "and we'll take the other two on trust. Shut it up again, and help to hoist it on to my shoulder, and do you follow with the other two--we'll take them right away to the tapestry-room. We're having a council there at midnight, and it's getting on for that now." Choosing a moment when the backs of the two smugglers were turned, Mother Tibbs darted out from behind the sycamore, and shot back into the chapel, evidently afraid of not being found at her post. And she was shortly followed by Endymion Leer and his companion. At first, the sensations of Master Nathaniel and Master Ambrose were too complicated to be expressed in words, and they merely stared at each other, with round eyes. Then a slow smile broke over Master Nathaniel's face, "No Moongrass cheese for you this time, Brosie," he said. "Who was right, you or me?" "By the Milky Way, it was you, Nat!" cried Master Ambrose, for once, in a voice of real excitement. "The rascal! The unmitigated rogue! So it's him, is it, we parents have to thank for what has happened! But he'll hang for it, he'll hang for it--though we have to change the whole constitution of Dorimare! The blackguard!"