As they arrived at that place, they heard groans and moans, and shrieks and wrangling. Presently they saw Alberich bring from a cleft of the rock a wretched Mime, one of the inhabitants of Nibelheim.
"Ah, thou mischievous imp! I'll pinch thee well if thou forgest me not the thing I commanded thee," Alberich shouted, at the same time pinching and poking the miserable little fellow.
"I've finished thy work," the Nibelung screamed, trying to flee from Alberich's blows.
"Then where is it?" the wretch demanded; as he wrenched open the Mime's hand in which was concealed a piece of metal called a Tarnhelm.
"Ah, ha! Now thou shalt writhe," Alberich shouted, and setting the Tarnhelm upon his head he immediately became invisible. Unseen himself, he pinched and cuffed the Mime so as to make the tortured little imp cry for mercy.
"I cannot see you," the Mime screamed piteously, trying to dodge the blows.
"No matter, I am somewhere about," Alberich answered, giving him another pinch. Then taking the Tarnhelm from his head he stood there in his own shape.
"Now," shouted the imp of darkness, "Now I can punish thee properly! If thy work is not well done I can torment thee to death. With this magic helmet and my ring I can make the whole world smart if I choose. And I shall choose," he added, reassuringly. "Wait till I get at those fine Gods up there." He disappeared chuckling, into a crack in the rock while the Mime crouched down in pain.
Alberich had no sooner gone, than Loge and Wotan came from the darkness.
"What is wrong with thee, thou merry dwarf?" Wotan asked.