“Well, it’s as good as a table anyhow, as far as I can see,” laughed the Dodo. “Yes, I’ve an appointment with an Ichthyosaurus at the Equator at noon, so I must be off. Good-by. Oh! while I think of it, though, if you do come across him, you might give him my love, and tell him that I’m extinct, will you please? Ha—ha—he will be amused!”
“Who do you mean?” called out Dick, as the Dodo floated away on his chair.
“The little Panjandrum,” was the reply; “you are pretty sure to meet him sooner or later.”
“Oh, we’re going to see the Pan—jan—de—lum,” announced Fidge, capering about in glee. “Hooray!”
In the meantime the table had drifted on till the house was quite out of sight, and had reached the base of the cliffs, where the smugglers’ cave was. The children had been there ever so many times before, and knew of a little gap in the rocks where, if only their boat would drift near enough, they could land, and clamber up to the roadway again. The boat, however, passed the gap, and drifted straight underneath the cave, from whence came a confused babel of sounds.
The children looked up, and a moment afterwards a crowd of the funniest little people imaginable came to the edge and peered over.
“What rum little beggars!” cried Dick. “Just look at their eyes!”
“I do believe they are Brownies, or else Gnomes!” declared Marjorie, who had read a great many fairy stories.
“Nonsense!” said Dick, with a superior air; “there are no such things now-a-days.”