`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 youself? 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 usefulsome 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.
