The Piskey ran and ran, and he never stopped running till he came to Castle Gardens, whence he had started. When he got there he was as exhausted as a colt ridden all night by naughty Night-riders, and he sank down all of a heap by the side of a mole-hill, where two tiny hands were again sticking up. 'Is your ladyship under the hill?' asked the little Piskey when he could speak. 'Yes,' answered the mole. 'Who are you?' 'The little Piskey who lost his laugh.' 'What! haven't you found it yet?' 'No,' he answered sadly, 'and I am dreadfully afraid I never shall. If I don't find it soon I shall be taken up for a Piskey vagrant, put in a bag, and hung upside down like a widdy-mouse in some cavern.' 'That will be a very tragic ending to a bright little Piskey,' said the mole. 'Tell me how you know that that will be your fate if you don't find your laugh.' And the Piskey told her. In fact, the Lady Want was so interested about what Granfer Night-rider had said that she begged him to tell her all his adventures from the time he set out to Rough Tor Marsh in search of his laugh till his return to Castle Gardens, which he was quite glad to do. 'You ought to find your laugh after all your travels and what you have gone through,' said the Lady Want when he had related everything, 'and I hope you will.' 'Does your ladyship happen to know anybody else who may have seen my laugh?' asked the little Piskey wistfully. 'Only one.' 'And who may that one be?' queried the little Piskey. 'Will your ladyship be kind enough to tell me?' 'The Good King Arthur,' the mole answered in a low voice. 'Good King Arthur!' ejaculated the Piskey. 'Why, he is dead, and a dead King is no more good than a Piskey without his laugh.' 'King Arthur is not dead,' said the mole. 'Not dead!' echoed the little Piskey in great surprise. 'No; he was seen perched only last evening on his own seat, which is still called King Arthur's Seat, and which, as I dare say you know, overhangs the sea.' 'Arthur the King not dead!' whispered the little Piskey, as if he could not get over his amazement. 'A precious good thing for you he isn't,' snapped the mole. 'But how isn't he dead?' asked the little Piskey.