“Where are the viands?” he growled through his bushy beard.
The Head Caterer, who had been staring open-mouthed at the table, tremblingly prostrated himself, and said, “If it please Your Royal Majesty, the table was duly set anon, but the viands have disappeared, I know not where.”
“Disappeared!” quoth the King; “how dare you allow the royal victuals to disappear? Produce more food at once!”
“I cannot, Your Majesty,” whimpered the Caterer; “the cooking-fire has gone out.”
“Glumdozo!” roared the King in a mighty voice, and every Gnome present trembled at the sound of the word, which made Harry suppose it was a terrible Gnoman oath. Thereupon the King grasped his golden pickax by the handle, and hurled it at the luckless Caterer.
Fortunately for himself the Caterer was peering out of the corner of his eye, and adroitly dodged the pickax, which bounded along the floor and smashed a number of the rare and costly dishes.
“Hummelskrash!” roared the King. “Take the knave and his fellows to work in the mines with the Pin Elves, and tell Wamby to assign them the hottest and hardest work there.
The poor Caterer and the rest of the Gnomes who had served the dinner were at once hustled away, and the King, with his courtiers, approached the dais. Harry waited long enough only to see that Cattisack, Grumpy, and Smithkin were among the King’s followers, and then he retreated hurriedly through the trap-door and made his way back to Kitey.
“Are you hungry, old chap?” were the first words he uttered.
“Hungry!” exclaimed Kitey, “I’m nearly starved!”