Runktipp sat on the ground, looping a thin wire about the big white celery cheese he was about to cut. “Lend a paw ’ere, Brother, ’tis too much for me t’cut alone!”

Melilot clapped a paw to his forehead. “Pear’n’chestnut flans! I’ve left six of ’em in the ovens!” He hurried off, calling back orders. “Tragglo, help cut the cheese, will you! Foremole, send some of your crew to collect those oatfarls from the windowsills, they should be well cooled by now! Roop, Muggle, start loading the trolleys. Don’t forget the salad—oh, and see if you can find my serving fork. I don’t know where ’tis gone to. Deesum marm, would you be kind enough to top off the trifle? You’ll find fresh chopped fruit on the big stone slab. Oh dear, I hope those flans aren’t burnt!”

Tragglo and Runktipp pulled the wire smoothly through the large cheese, then lifted off the moist white circular slice and cut it into four wedge-shaped chunks ready for the table.

Runktipp glanced sideways at the berry hedge. “We’re bein’ watched, mate. ’Tis prob’ly cheese-robbers!”

Tragglo took his barrel knife and cut a small piece from the cheese, held it up and called out to the hidden creatures, “You can ’ave some cheese if’n you promises not t’slay us all afore our work’s done ’ere!”

The fiendish Dwopple and his cohort, the molebabe Wugger, emerged from behind the hedge. Both Dibbuns were practically unrecognizable. Daubed from ears to tail with gray kitchen ash and flecked with black spots of charcoal, they wore gray blankets, purloined from the dormitory, as cloaks. Stumbling on the blanket hems, they leapt toward the cheese.

Tragglo struggled to keep a straight face. “An’ who might you turrible beasts be?”

Dwopple turned his most fearsome scowl upon the big hedgehog. “Us be’s Marmfloxes, an’ y’can’t see us, ’cos we be unvizzible!”

Tragglo caught on to the game right away. He looked strangely at Runktipp, who had also guessed what was going on. “Did you say somethin’, mate?”

Runktipp shook his spiky head vigorously. “I never said a word. I thought ’twas you, mate?”

Dwopple sniggered gleefully as he and Wugger grabbed the cheese. “It workin’, tol’ yer they cuddent see us, heehee!”

Wugger broke the cheese in two, giving half to his partner in crime. “Hurr, vurry gudd. Us’n’s best varnish naow, loike ee Marmfloxes!”

The heavy digging claws of Gurrbowl Cellarmole descended on them. “You’m bain’t a-varnishin’ nowheres, rogues. Oi see ee gudd enuff t’know you’m be in gurt need o’ a barth an’ sound scrubbin’!”

Both “Marmfloxes” were hauled off kicking and squealing by the dutiful molewife.