glad Toad was to see it, for he had been through some trying
experiences and had taken much hard exercise since the excellent
breakfast provided for him by the gipsy. While they ate Toad told the
Rat all his adventures, dwelling chiefly on his own cleverness, and
presence of mind in emergencies, and cunning in tight places; and
rather making out that he had been having a gay and highly-coloured
experience. But the more he talked and boasted, the more grave and
silent the Rat became.
When at last Toad had talked himself to a standstill, there was
silence for a while; and then the Rat said, "Now, Toady, I don't want
to give you pain, after all you've been through already; but,
seriously, don't you see what an awful ass you've been making of
yourself? On your own admission you have been hand-cuffed, imprisoned,
starved, chased, terrified out of your life, insulted, jeered at, and
ignominiously flung into the water--by a woman, too! Where's the
amusement in that? Where does the fun come in? And all because you
must needs go and steal a motor-car. You know that you've never had
anything but trouble from motor-cars from the moment you first set
eyes on one. But if you _will_ be mixed up with them--as you generally
are, five minutes after you've started--why _steal_ them? Be a
cripple, if you think it's exciting; be a bankrupt, for a change, if
you've set your mind on it: but why choose to be a convict? When are
you going to be sensible and think of your friends, and try and be
a credit to them? Do you suppose it's any pleasure to me, for
instance, to hear animals saying, as I go about, that I'm the chap
that keeps company with gaol-birds?"
[Illustration: _Dwelling chiefly on his own cleverness, and presence
of mind in emergencies_]
Now, it was a very comforting point in Toad's character that he was a
thoroughly good-hearted animal, and never minded being jawed by those
who were his real friends. And even when most set upon a thing, he was
always able to see the other side of the question. So although, while
the Rat was talking so seriously, he kept saying to himself
mutinously, "But it _was_ fun, though! Awful fun!" and making strange
suppressed noises inside him, k-i-ck-ck-ck, and poop-p-p, and other
sounds resembling stifled snorts, or the opening of soda-water
bottles, yet when the Rat had quite finished, he heaved a deep sigh
and said, very nicely and humbly, "Quite right, Ratty! How _sound_ you
always are! Yes, I've been a conceited old ass, I can quite see that;
but now I'm going to be a good Toad, and not do it any more. As for
motor-cars, I've not been at all so keen about them since my last
ducking in that river of yours. The fact is, while I was hanging on to
the edge of your hole and getting my breath, I had a sudden idea--a
really brilliant idea--connected with motor-boats--there, there! don't
take on so, old chap, and stamp, and upset things; it was only an
idea, and we won't talk any more about it now. We'll have our coffee,
_and_ a smoke, and a quiet chat, and then I'm going to stroll quietly
down to Toad Hall, and get into clothes of my own, and set things
going again on the old lines. I've had enough of adventures. I shall
lead a quiet, steady, respectable life, pottering about my property,
and improving it, and doing a little landscape gardening at times.
There will always be a bit of dinner for my friends when they come to
see me; and I shall keep a pony-chaise to jog about the country in,
just as I used to in the good old days, before I got restless, and
wanted to _do_ things."
"Stroll quietly down to Toad Hall?" cried the Rat, greatly excited.
"What are you talking about? Do you mean to say you haven't _heard_?"
"Heard what?" said Toad, turning rather pale. "Go on, Ratty! Quick!
Don't spare me! What haven't I heard?"
"Do you mean to tell me," shouted the Rat, thumping with his little
fist upon the table, "that you've heard nothing about the Stoats and
Weasels?"
"What, the Wild Wooders?" cried Toad, trembling in every limb. "No,
not a word! What have they been doing?"
"--And how they've been and taken Toad Hall?" continued the Rat.
Toad leaned his elbows on the table, and his chin on his paws; and a
large tear welled up in each of his eyes, overflowed and splashed on
the table, plop! plop!
"Go on, Ratty," he murmured presently; "tell me all. The worst is
over. I am an animal again. I can bear it."
"When you--got--into that--that--trouble of yours," said the Rat,
slowly and impressively; "I mean, when you--disappeared from society
for a time, over that misunderstanding about a--a machine, you know--"
Toad merely nodded.
"Well, it was a good deal talked about down here, naturally,"
continued the Rat, "not only along the riverside, but even in the Wild
Wood. Animals took sides, as always happens. The River-bankers stuck
up for you, and said you had been infamously treated, and there was no
justice to be had in the land nowadays. But the Wild Wood animals said
hard things, and served you right, and it was time this sort of thing
was stopped. And they got very cocky, and went about saying you were
done for this time! You would never come back again, never, never!"
Toad nodded once more, keeping silence.
"That's the sort of little beasts they are," the Rat went on. "But
Mole and Badger, they stuck out, through thick and thin, that you
would come back again soon, somehow. They didn't know exactly how, but
somehow!"
Toad began to sit up in his chair again, and to smirk a little.
"They argued from history," continued the Rat. "They said that no
criminal laws had ever been known to prevail against cheek and
plausibility such as yours, combined with the power of a long purse.
So they arranged to move their things in to Toad Hall, and sleep
there, and keep it aired, and have it all ready for you when you
turned up. They didn't guess what was going to happen, of course;
still, they had their suspicions of the Wild Wood animals. Now I come
to the most painful and tragic part of my story. One dark night--it
was a _very_ dark night, and blowing hard, too, and raining simply
cats and dogs--a band of weasels, armed to the teeth, crept silently
up the carriage-drive to the front entrance. Simultaneously, a body of
desperate ferrets, advancing through the kitchen-garden, possessed
themselves of the backyard and offices; while a company of skirmishing
stoats who stuck at nothing occupied the conservatory and the
billiard-room, and held the French windows opening on to the lawn.
"The Mole and the Badger were sitting by the fire in the smoking-room,
telling stories and suspecting nothing, for it wasn't a night for any
animals to be out in, when those bloodthirsty villains broke down the
doors and rushed in upon them from every side. They made the best
fight they could, but what was the good? They were unarmed, and taken
by surprise, and what can two animals do against hundreds? They took
and beat them severely with sticks, those two poor faithful creatures,
and turned them out into the cold and the wet, with many insulting and
uncalled-for remarks!"
Here the unfeeling Toad broke into a snigger, and then pulled himself
together and tried to look particularly solemn.
"And the Wild Wooders have been living in Toad Hall ever since,"
continued the Rat; "and going on simply anyhow! Lying in bed half the
day, and breakfast at all hours, and the place in such a mess (I'm
told) it's not fit to be seen! Eating your grub, and drinking your
drink, and making bad jokes about you, and singing vulgar songs,
about--well, about prisons and magistrates, and policemen; horrid
personal songs, with no humour in them. And they're telling the
tradespeople and everybody that they've come to stay for good."
"O, have they!" said Toad, getting up and seizing a stick. "I'll jolly
soon see about that!"
"It's no good, Toad!" called the Rat after him. "You'd better come
back and sit down; you'll only get into trouble."
But the Toad was off, and there was no holding him. He marched rapidly
down the road, his stick over his shoulder, fuming and muttering to
himself in his anger, till he got near his front gate, when suddenly
there popped up from behind the palings a long yellow ferret with a
gun.
"Who comes there?" said the ferret sharply.
"Stuff and nonsense!" said Toad, very angrily. "What do you mean by
talking like that to me? Come out of that at once or I'll--"
The ferret said never a word, but he brought his gun up to his
shoulder. Toad prudently dropped flat in the road, and _Bang_! a
bullet whistled over his head.
The startled Toad scrambled to his feet and scampered off down the
road as hard as he could; and as he ran he heard the ferret laughing
and other horrid thin little laughs taking it up and carrying on the
sound.
He went back, very crestfallen, and told the Water Rat.
"What did I tell you?" said the Rat. "It's no good. They've got
sentries posted, and they are all armed. You must just wait."
Still, Toad was not inclined to give in all at once. So he got out the
boat, and set off rowing up the river to where the garden front of
Toad Hall came down to the water-side.
Arriving within sight of his old home, he rested on his oars and
surveyed the land cautiously. All seemed very peaceful and deserted
and quiet. He could see the whole front of Toad Hall, glowing in the
evening sunshine, the pigeons settling by twos and threes along the
straight line of the roof; the garden, a blaze of flowers; the creek
that led up to the boat-house, the little wooden bridge that crossed
it; all tranquil, uninhabited, apparently waiting for his return. He
would try the boat-house first, he thought. Very warily he paddled up
to the mouth of the creek, and was just passing under the bridge,
when ... _Crash_!
A great stone, dropped from above, smashed through the bottom of the
boat. It filled and sank, and Toad found himself struggling in deep
water. Looking up, he saw two stoats leaning over the parapet of the
bridge and watching him with great glee. "It will be your head next
time, Toady!" they called out to him. The indignant Toad swam to
shore, while the stoats laughed and laughed, supporting each other,
and laughed again, till they nearly had two fits--that is, one fit
each, of course.
The Toad retraced his weary way on foot, and related his disappointing
experiences to the Water Rat once more.
"Well, _what_ did I tell you?" said the Rat very crossly. "And, now, look
here! See what you've been and done! Lost me my boat that I was so fond
of, that's what you've done! And simply ruined that nice suit of clothes
that I lent you! Really, Toad, of all the trying animals--I wonder you
manage to keep any friends at all!"
The Toad saw at once how wrongly and foolishly he had acted. He
admitted his errors and wrong-headedness and made a full apology to
Rat for losing his boat and spoiling his clothes. And he wound up by
saying, with that frank self-surrender which always disarmed his
friends' criticism and won them back to his side, "Ratty! I see that I
have been a headstrong and a wilful Toad! Henceforth, believe me, I
will be humble and submissive, and will take no action without your
kind advice and full approval!"
"If that is really so," said the good-natured Rat, already appeased,
"then my advice to you is, considering the lateness of the hour, to
sit down and have your supper, which will be on the table in a minute,
and be very patient. For I am convinced that we can do nothing until
we have seen the Mole and the Badger, and heard their latest news, and
held conference and taken their advice in this difficult matter."
"Oh, ah, yes, of course, the Mole and the Badger," said Toad,
lightly. "What's become of them, the dear fellows? I had forgotten all
about them."
"Well may you ask!" said the Rat reproachfully. "While you were riding
about the country in expensive motor-cars, and galloping proudly on
blood-horses, and breakfasting on the fat of the land, those two poor
devoted animals have been camping out in the open, in every sort of
weather, living very rough by day and lying very hard by night;
watching over your house, patrolling your boundaries, keeping a
constant eye on the stoats and the weasels, scheming and planning and
contriving how to get your property back for you. You don't deserve to
have such true and loyal friends, Toad, you don't, really. Some day,
when it's too late, you'll be sorry you didn't value them more while
you had them!"
"I'm an ungrateful beast, I know," sobbed Toad, shedding bitter tears.
"Let me go out and find them, out into the cold, dark night, and share
their hardships, and try and prove by--Hold on a bit! Surely I heard
the chink of dishes on a tray! Supper's here at last, hooray! Come
on, Ratty!"
The Rat remembered that poor Toad had been on prison fare for a
considerable time, and that large allowances had therefore to be made.
He followed him to the table accordingly, and hospitably encouraged
him in his gallant efforts to make up for past privations.
They had just finished their meal and resumed their arm-chairs, when
there came a heavy knock at the door.
Toad was nervous, but the Rat, nodding mysteriously at him, went
straight up to the door and opened it, and in walked Mr. Badger.
He had all the appearance of one who for some nights had been kept
away from home and all its little comforts and conveniences. His shoes
were covered with mud, and he was looking very rough and touzled; but
then he had never been a very smart man, the Badger, at the best of
times. He came solemnly up to Toad, shook him by the paw, and said,
"Welcome home, Toad! Alas! what am I saying? Home, indeed! This is a
poor home-coming. Unhappy Toad!" Then he turned his back on him, sat
down to the table, drew his chair up, and helped himself to a large
slice of cold pie.
Toad was quite alarmed at this very serious and portentous style of
greeting; but the Rat whispered to him, "Never mind; don't take any
notice; and don't say anything to him just yet. He's always rather low
and despondent when he's wanting his victuals. In half an hour's time
he'll be quite a different animal."
So they waited in silence, and presently there came another and a
lighter knock. The Rat, with a nod to Toad, went to the door and
ushered in the Mole, very shabby and unwashed, with bits of hay and
straw sticking in his fur.
"Hooray! Here's old Toad!" cried the Mole, his face beaming. "Fancy
having you back again!" And he began to dance round him. "We never
dreamt you would turn up so soon! Why, you must have managed to
escape, you clever, ingenious, intelligent Toad!"
The Rat, alarmed, pulled him by the elbow; but it was too late. Toad
was puffing and swelling already.
"Clever? O, no!" he said. "I'm not really clever, according to my
friends. I've only broken out of the strongest prison in England,
that's all! And captured a railway train and escaped on it, that's
all! And disguised myself and gone about the country humbugging
everybody, that's all! O, no! I'm a stupid ass, I am! I'll tell you
one or two of my little adventures, Mole, and you shall judge for
yourself!"
"Well, well," said the Mole, moving towards the supper-table;
"supposing you talk while I eat. Not a bite since breakfast! O my! O
my!" And he sat down and helped himself liberally to cold beef and
pickles.
Toad straddled on the hearth-rug, thrust his paw into his
trouser-pocket and pulled out a handful of silver. "Look at that!" he
cried, displaying it. "That's not so bad, is it, for a few minutes'
work? And how do you think I done it, Mole? Horse-dealing! That's how
I done it!"
"Go on, Toad," said the Mole, immensely interested.
"Toad, do be quiet, please!" said the Rat. "And don't you egg him on,
Mole, when you know what he is; but please tell us as soon as possible
what the position is, and what's best to be done, now that Toad is
back at last."
"The position's about as bad as it can be," replied the Mole grumpily;
"and as for what's to be done, why, blest if I know! The Badger and I
have been round and round the place, by night and by day; always the
same thing. Sentries posted everywhere, guns poked out at us, stones
thrown at us; always an animal on the look-out, and when they see us,
my! how they do laugh! That's what annoys me most!"
"It's a very difficult situation," said the Rat, reflecting deeply.
"But I think I see now, in the depths of my mind, what Toad really
ought to do. I will tell you. He ought to--"
"No, he oughtn't!" shouted the Mole, with his mouth full. "Nothing of
the sort! You don't understand. What he ought to do is, he ought
to--"
"Well, I shan't do it, anyway!" cried Toad, getting excited. "I'm not
going to be ordered about by you fellows! It's my house we're talking
about, and I know exactly what to do, and I'll tell you. I'm going
to--"
By this time they were all three talking at once, at the top of their
voices, and the noise was simply deafening, when a thin, dry voice
made itself heard, saying, "Be quiet at once, all of you!" and
instantly every one was silent.
It was the Badger, who, having finished his pie, had turned round in
his chair and was looking at them severely. When he saw that he had
secured their attention, and that they were evidently waiting for him
to address them, he turned back to the table again and reached out for
the cheese. And so great was the respect commanded by the solid
qualities of that admirable animal, that not another word was uttered,
until he had quite finished his repast and brushed the crumbs from his
knees. The Toad fidgeted a good deal, but the Rat held him firmly
down.
When the Badger had quite done, he got up from his seat and stood
before the fireplace, reflecting deeply. At last he spoke.
"Toad," he said severely. "You bad, troublesome little animal! Aren't
you ashamed of yourself? What do you think your father, my old friend,
would have said if he had been here to-night, and had known of all
your goings on?"
Toad, who was on the sofa by this time, with his legs up, rolled over
on his face, shaken by sobs of contrition.
"There, there!" went on the Badger, more kindly. "Never mind. Stop
crying. We're going to let bygones be bygones, and try and turn over a
new leaf. But what the Mole says is quite true. The stoats are on
guard, at every point, and they make the best sentinels in the world.
It's quite useless to think of attacking the place. They're too strong
for us."
"Then it's all over," sobbed the Toad, crying into the sofa cushions.
"I shall go and enlist for a soldier, and never see my dear Toad Hall
any more!"
"Come, cheer up, Toady!" said the Badger. "There are more ways of
getting back a place than taking it by storm. I haven't said my last
word yet. Now I'm going to tell you a great secret."
Toad sat up slowly and dried his eyes. Secrets had an immense
attraction for him, because he never could keep one, and he enjoyed
the sort of unhallowed thrill he experienced when he went and told
another animal, after having faithfully promised not to.
"There--is--an--underground--passage," said the Badger, impressively,
"that leads from the river-bank, quite near here, right up into the
middle of Toad Hall."
"O, nonsense! Badger," said Toad, rather airily. "You've been
listening to some of the yarns they spin in the public-houses about
here. I know every inch of Toad Hall, inside and out. Nothing of the
sort, I do assure you!"
"My young friend," said the Badger, with great severity, "your father,
who was a worthy animal--a lot worthier than some others I know--was a
particular friend of mine, and told me a great deal he wouldn't have
dreamt of telling you. He discovered that passage--he didn't make it,
of course; that was done hundreds of years before he ever came to live
there--and he repaired it and cleaned it out, because he thought it
might come in useful some day, in case of trouble or danger; and he
showed it to me. 'Don't let my son know about it,' he said. 'He's a
good boy, but very light and volatile in character, and simply cannot
hold his tongue. If he's ever in a real fix, and it would be of use to
him, you may tell him about the secret passage; but not before.'"
The other animals looked hard at Toad to see how he would take it.
Toad was inclined to be sulky at first; but he brightened up
immediately, like the good fellow he was.
"Well, well," he said; "perhaps I am a bit of a talker. A popular
fellow such as I am--my friends get round me--we chaff, we sparkle, we
tell witty stories--and somehow my tongue gets wagging. I have the
gift of conversation. I've been told I ought to have a _salon_,
whatever that may be. Never mind. Go on, Badger. How's this passage of
yours going to help us?"
"I've found out a thing or two lately," continued the Badger. "I got
Otter to disguise himself as a sweep and call at the back-door with
brushes over his shoulder, asking for a job. There's going to be a big
banquet to-morrow night. It's somebody's birthday--the Chief Weasel's,
I believe--and all the weasels will be gathered together in the
dining-hall, eating and drinking and laughing and carrying on,
suspecting nothing. No guns, no swords, no sticks, no arms of any sort
whatever!"
"But the sentinels will be posted as usual," remarked the Rat.
"Exactly," said the Badger; "that is my point. The weasels will trust
entirely to their excellent sentinels. And that is where the passage
comes in. That very useful tunnel leads right up under the butler's
pantry, next to the dining-hall!"
"Aha! that squeaky board in the butler's pantry!" said Toad. "Now I
understand it!"
"We shall creep out quietly into the butler's pantry--" cried the
Mole.
"--with our pistols and swords and sticks--" shouted the Rat.
"--and rush in upon them," said the Badger.
"--and whack 'em, and whack 'em, and whack 'em!" cried the Toad in
ecstasy, running round and round the room, and jumping over the
chairs.
"Very well, then," said the Badger, resuming his usual dry manner,
"our plan is settled, and there's nothing more for you to argue and
squabble about. So, as it's getting very late, all of you go right off
to bed at once. We will make all the necessary arrangements in the
course of the morning to-morrow."
Toad, of course, went off to bed dutifully with the rest--he knew
better than to refuse--though he was feeling much too excited to
sleep. But he had had a long day, with many events crowded into it;
and sheets and blankets were very friendly and comforting things,
after plain straw, and not too much of it, spread on the stone floor
of a draughty cell; and his head had not been many seconds on his
pillow before he was snoring happily. Naturally, he dreamt a good
deal; about roads that ran away from him just when he wanted them, and
canals that chased him and caught him, and a barge that sailed into
the banqueting-hall with his week's washing, just as he was giving a
dinner-party; and he was alone in the secret passage, pushing onwards,
but it twisted and turned round and shook itself, and sat up on its
end; yet somehow, at the last, he found himself back in Toad Hall,
safe and triumphant, with all his friends gathered round about him,
earnestly assuring him that he really was a clever Toad.
He slept till a late hour next morning, and by the time he got down he
found that the other animals had finished their breakfast some time before.
The Mole had slipped off somewhere by himself, without telling any one
where he was going to. The Badger sat in the arm-chair, reading the paper,
and not concerning himself in the slightest about what was going to happen
that very evening. The Rat, on the other hand, was running round the room
busily, with his arms full of weapons of every kind, distributing them in
four little heaps on the floor, and saying excitedly under his breath, as
he ran, "Here's-a-sword-for-the-Rat, here's-a-sword-for-the-Mole,
here's-a-sword-for-the-Toad, here's-a-sword-for-the-Badger!
Here's-a-pistol-for-the-Rat, here's-a-pistol-for-the-Mole,
here's-a-pistol-for-the-Toad, here's-a-pistol-for-the-Badger!" And so on,
in a regular, rhythmical way, while the four little heaps gradually grew
and grew.
"That's all very well, Rat," said the Badger presently, looking at the
busy little animal over the edge of his newspaper; "I'm not blaming
you. But just let us once get past the stoats, with those detestable
guns of theirs, and I assure you we shan't want any swords or pistols.
We four, with our sticks, once we're inside the dining-hall, why, we
shall clear the floor of all the lot of them in five minutes. I'd have
done the whole thing by myself, only I didn't want to deprive you
fellows of the fun!"
"It's as well to be on the safe side," said the Rat reflectively,
polishing a pistol-barrel on his sleeve and looking along it.