"It's Andy, of course," said Hortense, running down the stairs. "I'd almost forgotten him."
Leaning over the hole beside the chimney, she called in a soft voice, "Andy, Andy."
"It's me," said Andy, and soon he joined them.
"Why do we wait here?" Malay Kris demanded. "How can you be sure any one will come?"
"We can't be sure, of course," Hortense said, "but it's likely because it's a secret place. We want to see who it is that goes with Jeremiah. Highboy has seen him but doesn't know his name. He's all shiny, and prickly, and hard."
"Not too hard for me," Malay Kris boasted. "I'll run him through as though he were cheese."
"It won't be so bad, once we see him," Hortense observed. "A thing is never so bad as you think it is beforehand."
"Except castor oil," said Andy. "That's worse."
They all sat in silence, waiting for something to happen.
"Unless it comes soon, I'll go out and look for it," Malay Kris growled after a time. "I rust with inaction."