All of a sudden the Writer and the Sketcher found themselves thrust into the presence of _He-who-must-be-obeyed_. After pushing down his two captives, SILLIBILLI himself fell upon his hands and knees, like a pig journeying to market. The men of the pen and pencil looked about them, and for miles could see nothing but prostrate forms. In front of them was a heavy white drapery, seemingly hiding a figure. At length the curtain began to move, and suddenly, from above its folds, appeared a most beautiful red nose--never had they seen such a long and curved nose. Then came a voice, sweet and soft, and yet full of power, reminding those present of something between a murmuring brook and a thunderbolt. "Strangers!" said the voice, in English, but much purer and more classical English than the Arriarris talk, "Strangers, When is the portal to a saloon not the portal to a saloon? Tell me that, O Strangers!" "When it is an Egyptian potsherd," stealthily whispered SILLIBILLI. "Begone, thou white headed old fool!" cried _He-who-must-be-obeyed_, angrily. "It is not the answer; and, if it were, who art thou to thus reply? Begone, thou feeble cry of a donkey long defunct!" The voice rose in its anger clear and cold, and the Writer and the Sketcher fancied they could see two gleaming eyes above the drapery. SILLIBILLI beat his stupid old head thrice on the ground, and crawled out of the apartment as he had crawled into it. [Illustration: "_It made a quaint gesture with the assistance of a palm-tree._"] "Neither of ye know," continued the Lord of the beautiful red nose. "Then begone, and search for that joke--trace it to its source--to its saucy source." There was a pause, and then a strange thing happened. A mighty shout of laughter rose from the very depths, and seemed to fill the entire universe. _He_ seemed pleased, and gracefully inclined his nose as if acknowledging a compliment. Then he continued, less sternly, "Away to the land of the Joks, and the Judimows--the Quipps and the Kranx. Away, to find a way!" Once again came the roar of mighty laughter. From far, far away it came with a dreadful muttering noise, that grew and grew to a crash and a roar, which combined in itself all that is terrible and yet splendid in the possibilities of sound. Then it passed away, and disappeared in a murmured guffaw. Then UNREDD and SPOYLPAPEROS, feeling sure of the presence of two gleaming eyes above the beautiful red nose, turned sharply round and fled.