When all was quite ready, the Badger took a dark lantern in one paw, grasped his great stick with the other, and said, “Now then, follow me! Mole first, ’cos I’m very pleased with him; Rat next; Toad last. And look here, Toady! Don’t you chatter so much as usual, or you’ll be sent back, as sure as fate!”
The Toad was so anxious not to be left out that he took up the inferior position assigned to him without a murmur, and the animals set off. The Badger led them along by the river for a little way, and then suddenly swung himself over the edge into a hole in the river bank, a little above the water. The Mole and the Rat followed silently, swinging themselves successfully into the hole as they had seen the Badger do; but when it came to Toad’s turn, of course he managed to slip and fall into the water with a loud splash and a squeal of alarm. He was hauled out by his friends, rubbed down and wrung out hastily, comforted, and set on his legs; but the Badger was seriously angry, and told him that the very next time he made a fool of himself he would most certainly be left behind.
So at last they were in the secret passage, and the cutting-out expedition had really begun!
It was cold, and dark, and damp, and low, and narrow, and poor Toad began to shiver, partly from dread of what might be before him, partly because he was wet through. The lantern was far ahead, and he could not help lagging behind a little in the darkness. Then he heard the Rat call out warningly, “Come on, Toad!” and a terror seized him of being left behind, alone in the darkness, and he “came on” with such a rush that he upset the Rat into the Mole, and the Mole into the Badger, and for a moment all was confusion. The Badger thought they were being attacked from behind, and, as there was no room to use a stick or a cutlass, drew a pistol, and was on the point of putting a bullet into Toad. When he found out what had really happened he was very angry indeed, and said, “Now this time that tiresome Toad shall be left behind!”
But Toad whimpered, and the other two promised that they would be answerable for his good conduct, and at last the Badger was pacified, and the procession moved on; only this time the Rat brought up the rear, with a firm grip on the shoulder of Toad.
So they groped and shuffled along, with their ears pricked up and their paws on their pistols, till at last the Badger said, “We ought by now to be pretty nearly under the Hall.”
Then suddenly they heard, far away as it might be, and yet apparently nearly over their heads, a confused murmur of sound, as if people were shouting and cheering and stamping on the floor and hammering on tables. The Toad’s nervous terrors all returned, but the Badger only remarked placidly, “They are going it, the weasels!”
The passage now began to slope upwards; they groped onward a little further, and then the noise broke out again, quite distinct this time, and very close above them. “Ooo-ray-oo-ray-oo-ray-ooray!” they heard, and the stamping of little feet on the floor, and the clinking of glasses as little fists pounded on the table. “What a time they’re having!” said the Badger. “Come on!” They hurried along the passage till it came to a full stop, and they found themselves standing under the trap-door that led up into the butler’s pantry.
Such a tremendous noise was going on in the banqueting-hall that there was little danger of their being overheard. The Badger said, “Now, boys, all together!” and the four of them put their shoulders to the trap-door and heaved it back. Hoisting each other up, they found themselves standing in the pantry, with only a door between them and the banqueting-hall, where their unconscious enemies were carousing.
The noise, as they emerged from the passage, was simply deafening. At last, as the cheering and hammering slowly subsided, a voice could be made out saying, “Well, I do not propose to detain you much longer”—(great applause)—“but before I resume my seat”—(renewed cheering)—“I should like to say one word about our kind host, Mr. Toad. We all know Toad!”—(great laughter)—“Good Toad, modest Toad, honest Toad!” (shrieks of merriment).
“Only just let me get at him!” muttered Toad, grinding his teeth.
“Hold hard a minute!” said the Badger, restraining him with difficulty. “Get ready, all of you!”
“—Let me sing you a little song,” went on the voice, “which I have composed on the subject of Toad”—(prolonged applause).
Then the Chief Weasel—for it was he—began in a high, squeaky voice—
“Toad he went a-pleasuring
Gaily down the street—”
The Badger drew himself up, took a firm grip of his stick with both paws, glanced round at his comrades, and cried—
“The hour is come! Follow me!”
And flung the door open wide.
My!
What a squealing and a squeaking and a screeching filled the air!
Well might the
