"I'm sure it's indigestible," Highboy complained, "and it wasn't sweet. I don't like it." "Hurry!" Hortense cried, for at last they were at the bottom where they could crawl through the door into the cellar. Grater was so close that his hand was upon Hortense's foot. She jerked herself free and in a flash was up the cellar stairs and in the kitchen. Malay Kris turned indignantly to Hortense. "Why didn't you let me at him?" he demanded. There was time for no further words. Grater was upon them, and Malay Kris, with a glad cry, hurled himself at his foe. It was a grand fight, but short. Malay Kris bore Grater to the floor, locked fast in a deadly embrace. "Let me up!" said Grater in a weak, hoarse voice. "You're hurting me." But Malay Kris, try as he might, could not do so. He had pinned his foe to the floor so securely that he, himself, was stuck fast. Andy, Highboy, and Hortense, all lent a hand but could not free him. "Never mind," said Malay Kris, "I like the feel of this fellow and don't mind staying all night." Whatever would Grandfather say, Hortense wondered. There was nothing to do but leave Malay Kris to enjoy his victim. Hortense, after leading Andy out the door, ran up to her room with Highboy, who said he was too excited to sleep and that he would compose poetry all night. Hortense slept very well, however, and in the morning when she began to dress remembered her charm. "Give me my charm, Highboy," said she. "In the top drawer," said Highboy. Sure enough, there it was, and Hortense fastened it hastily about her neck and ran down to breakfast, which wasn't ready. "Aunt Esmerelda wouldn't cook breakfast this morning, and Mary is preparing it," Grandmother explained. "Aunt Esmerelda is afraid of spooks," said Grandfather, laughing. "Indeed, I don't know how to explain it myself. What do you suppose we found this morning? That Malay kris of which I told you, that hangs in the parlor, was thrust through the grater and buried so deep in the kitchen floor that Fergus and I could hardly get it out." Mary, bringing breakfast, announced, "Jeremiah's shut up somewhere again. We can hear his cries but can't tell where he is." "Not in the sofa again, I hope," said Grandfather. "Not there," said Mary. "He sounds as if he were in the chimney." "Impossible," said Grandfather. "But then, impossible things happen every day in this house. We'll have breakfast first, at any rate." After breakfast Grandfather, Fergus, and Uncle Jonah found the place in the chimney where Jeremiah was caught and, knocking in a hole, let him out. Very dirty he was, all covered with soot, and very much ashamed. He hurried away with lowered head and tail and didn't reappear until he had cleaned his coat. Even then he would not look at Hortense, try as she would to catch his eye. [Illustration] CHAPTER VII "_... there should be Little People up the mountain yonder...._"