ad
again disappeared, and there was a smooth, round hole running down into
the sand, as though he had gone directly through the beach. He was
listening at this hole, in the hope of hearing from the Goblin, when a
voice said, "I suppose that's what they call going into the interior of
the country;" and, looking up, he saw the Hole-keeper sitting on a
little mound in the sand, with his great book in his lap.

The little man had evidently been having a hard time since Davy had seen
him. His complexion had quite lost its beautiful transparency, and his
jaunty little paper tunic was sadly rumpled, and, moreover, he had lost
his cocked hat. All this, however, had not at all disturbed his
complacent conceit; he was, if anything, more pompous than ever.

"How did _you_ get here?" asked Davy, in astonishment.

"I'm banished," said the Hole-keeper, cheerfully. "That's better than
being boiled, any day. Did you give Robinson my letter?"

"Yes, I did," said Davy, as they walked along the beach together; "but
I got it very wet coming here."

"That was quite right," said the Hole-keeper. "There's nothing so
tiresome as a dry letter. Well, I suppose Robinson is expecting me by
this time, isn't he?"

"I don't know, I'm sure," said Davy. "He didn't say that he was
expecting you."

"He _must_ be," said the Hole-keeper, positively. "I never even
mentioned it in my letter; so, of course, he'll know I'm coming. By the
way," he added, hurriedly opening his book, and staring anxiously at one
of the blank pages, "there isn't a word in here about Billyweazles. This
place must be full of 'em."

"What are they?" said Davy.

"They're great pink birds, without any feathers on 'em," replied the
Hole-keeper, solemnly. "And they're particularly fond of sugar. That's
the worst thing about 'em."

"I don't think there's anything very wicked in that," said Davy.

"Oh! of course _you_ don't," said the Hole-keeper, fretfully. "But you
see I haven't any trowsers on, and I don't fancy having a lot of strange
Billyweazles nibbling at my legs. In fact, if you don't mind, I'd like
to run away from here."

"Very well," said Davy, who was himself beginning to feel rather nervous
about the Billyweazles, and accordingly he and the Hole-keeper started
off along the beach as fast as they could run.

Presently the Hole-keeper stopped short and said, faintly, "It strikes
me the sun is very hot here."

The sun certainly was very hot, and Davy, looking a