The Willows and Beyond (18 page)

Then the Butler returned and whispered in Toad’s ear. Toad nodded, Toad looked surprised and then Toad said, “Are you
quite
sure?”

“That’s what he said, sir.

“Then show him in!” cried Toad, leaping to his feet and flinging down his napkin. “Gentlemen, please rise and be ready to welcome the Uninvited Guest!”

Which they did with laughter and jollity, and not a little surprise and apprehension.

“This way, sir, please’ they heard the Butler say “Mr Toad really does insist on it.”

“But are they not eating?”

“I rather think they are waiting for you, sir.

“For
me?”

Then the Butler pushed open the door and ushered in the traveller.

“Mr Toad and Gentlemen,” cried out the Butler formally, “I beg to announce the arrival of Mr Sea Rat, from Cairo, Egypt.”

“But —”

“But surely —“

“But it can’t be!”

How many “buts” there were then, though none more astonished than Ratty’s, and none more dumbfounded than Young Rat’s!

“But Pa, I thought you was dead and gone down to Davy Jones’s locker!”

“I was, son, or near enough,” said the Sea Rat, letting the Butler take his stick and the blue cotton handkerchief in which he portered his worldly goods. “I was—“

But explanations had to wait, for the Young Rat had sprung from his seat and across the room into his father’s embrace, with tears giving way to laughter and then to chatter of delight, and finally to a faith, quite certain and for evermore, that Christmas wishes
do
come true.

The Mole, meanwhile, could not but observe — and he did not resent it one little bit, indeed it brought him happiness and hope — that the unexpected arrival of the Sea Rat had put into the Rat’s eyes that look of brightness and hope that had been missing for so long, and the sense that, after all, that door upon a new world he had thought had been closed to him for evermore might yet be opened up again.

Later, after the Sea Rat had taken his place at the right hand of Toad, and several courses of their grand repast had been eaten, but with a good many more still to come, he told the story of his survival and return:

“After I caught the Gruesome, a worse pestilence than plague, and my boy was in the safe hands of the postal service, I lay down to die, at peace with the world. As I was lying there, however, I fell to thinking that I wanted to breathe the sea air one more time and since there was an Arab fellow in the market I’d done a favour for, who sold sea water fresh out of the Mediterranean for curing warts, I sent word for a jugful and I sniffed at it for comfort like, for it minded me of my old days round the Horn, and other happy days at sea.

“Well, I thought to meself I might sup a mouthful or two to remind me of when I nearly drowned in the Roaring Forties, and since it didn’t taste too bad I had a bit more. Before I knew it I’d finished the jugful and was feeling a lot better!

“Bless me vitals, but in a week I was completely cured, and in a month me and my new mate, the seawater salesman, were bottling it up as the only known cure for the Gruesome in the whole wide world, at twopence farthing a bottle!

“Afore long I had enough for my passage home, third class. Wanted to see my boy was all right and if he was, to thank Mr Ratty here for taking him in, and anybody else who’s been kindly to him, which from what I’ve heard this hour or two past is all you good gentlemen here! So it was I made my way to the River Bank.”

Of the rest of that day of celebration, memories were afterwards fuzzy and dim. Only one thing is certain: Toad made a very fine speech he had prepared upon the theme of hiking at Christmas and its benefits.

The Sea Rat, a speechifier and wordsmith to rival Toad himself, spoke at length and in detail upon the theme of good food, and his experiences in the Caliph’s kitchen, which endeared him to the Mole, since it became very plain that both animals shared a common love of making food for others.

The Badger spoke wisely and well upon friendship and Christmas, so well indeed that Nephew asked that if he fell asleep again would someone kindly wake him up since he did not wish to miss too much of what the Badger said.

The Otter proposed they take a turn before dark and get some fresh air down on the River Bank, but met with no takers and instead, by general assent, they had a game of blind-man’s-buff in the conservatory, followed by hide-and-seek throughout Toad Hall for the younger element.

With such pleasures the afternoon slid into evening, and the evening moved into night — and then, or sometime then, or possibly the next day, or perhaps even the day after, their Christmas celebration knew its last roundel of song and laughter, of feast and conversation, for another year at least.

Everybody agreed that there had never been a better, and from out of the winter darkness shone the light of companionship and cheer, and the hope of still better times to come.

VIII

Till the First Day

of Spring

Mr Toad was so taken with the Sea Rat that at the start of the New Year when the festivities were over and all but the Rat had returned to their homes he suggested the wanderer should stay with him till such time as he felt inclined to move on.

“Mr Toad,” cried the Sea Rat, “I much appreciate your generous offer. You know me well enough by now to see I’m not one to be anchored and battened down long afore my feet gets itchy and my attention wanders, so I am not likely to be a burden upon you for too long.”

“But you’ll stay a few weeks at least?” asked Ratty.

“I’ll tell you both this and I’ll tell it true: ‘twas springtime when I first left these shores more’n forty years ago and I daresay when spring sees the sap rise once more my old timbers’ll be about ready for a fair sou’-easterly once more. So if your hospitality extends
that
far…

“It does, it certainly does!” cried the contented Toad, glad to know he would have company round the place, for with the holiday over and Master Toad already back at school, Toad Hall suddenly seemed too quiet and far too dull.

“In that case I’ll heartily accept,” said the Sea Rat, “and make this pledge: that I’ll moor myself here only till the first day of spring, and then be gone with the first watch, off to the sea once more.

“Till the first day of spring,” murmured Ratty, for it was a special day in his calendar, as in the Mole’s, being the day they traditionally ventured out in Ratty’s boat for the first picnic of the year.

“Aye aye, shipmate, that’s my pledge, for I would not wish to overstay my welcome. In any case, my son seems to have made his way here with you, Ratty, and I would not want to cramp his style and feather his sails!”

“But it means you’ll be here long enough to tell us a good many more of your tales, eh Sea Rat!?” cried Ratty, his eyes alight. “You know how they thrill and inspire me so, for when I close my eyes and listen to your talk it’s almost as if I’m young once more, as I was when we first met, and can half believe that I’ve the strength and energy to travel with you as your companion upon the seas to new places!”

“You’ve got the ebb and drift of the currents in your veins, Ratty, that’s quite certain,” said the Sea Rat, tucking into another of Toad’s excellent buttered kippers, “just as Mr Toad here has the surge and fall of the great grand seas.”

“I certainly believe I might have,” said Toad, who had fancied himself of late as a sea captain, or possibly an Admiral of the Fleet, “and if I did not have family and other responsibilities to tie me down — I refer to Master Toad and Toad Hall itself — I would come with you at once, Sea Rat. Meanwhile, you were telling us last night about that clash with the tribesmen in Nisrah, when —“So I was, and without Young Rat at my side, and that marlin spike I gave him and which he carries about his neck, and the happy chance that we found two fit camels to make our escape across the desert, I would not be here to tell the tale!”

Many were the nights the friends were entertained thus by the Sea Rat and his tales, whether in Toad Hall or the Rat’s home, and on occasion at Mole End, though this but rarely, for the Sea Rat could not abide being away from the sight and sound of the River for long.

These were good times, happy times, when the Mole allowed himself to be displaced from Ratty’s company without resentment, for he now better understood his excitement at all things of Araby and the Orient, and that in matters nautical he was, himself, but a duffer, and rather in the way.

So it was with some surprise, and not a little gratification, that one evening in late February Portly brought him a note from the Rat asking if he might drop by, despite the late hour,
that we might talk alone, as in the old days
—
something I have missed. Please come soon, Mole old chap, and bring a bottle of your Sloe and Blackberry, for I have quite run out.

“Of course, and right away!” cried the Mole, his face suffused with pleasure to be so asked, and Nephew glad to see that the Rat had not quite forgotten his friend.

“Mole, forgive me,” said Ratty when Mole arrived with his basket, “for I’ve neglected you these recent weeks.”

“Ratty, I understand, really I do, and I would not for one moment get in the way of your enjoyment of the Sea Rat’s company, nor your dreams.”

“You’re a capital fellow, Mole, and I do not know what I would do without you!” cried the Rat heartily. “Now then, did you remember to bring a bottle of your best, for medicinal purposes only, of course!”

“I brought two,” said the Mole, producing two bottles of his Sloe and Blackberry; “one for us to enjoy in the days ahead, and another for your cellar.”

Ratty had arranged for Young Rat to stay at Toad Hall with his father for a few days, so that he and Mole might remain undisturbed, for there were many things on the Rat’s mind, and he wished to have the time to talk to his oldest friend.

Then talk they did, quietly and with good humour, of so very many things, the quiet to and fro of thoughts and feelings that only friends who truly trust each other can share. Only when their talk turned to the sombre theme of growing old, and dwelt upon that subject rather too long, did the Mole cut it short.

“Why are we talking like this?” he cried, rising up and opening the window upon the chilly night, that they might have some fresh air to clear their fuddled heads. “Listen to the River, listen to the nightjar! Spring will soon be in the air again and things will be different.”

But though the Rat nodded and smiled acknowledgement, he was rather less inspired by the prospect the Mole pictured. Till at last his eyes softened and, peering out of the window for a short time before pulling himself in with a shiver and closing it, he murmured, “Till the first day of spring.”

“Ah, that most special of days,” said the Mole, not quite sensing the Rat’s uncertainty, “when we can take out your boat upon the River, and enjoy once more —“The Sea Rat will be leaving then,” said Ratty, cutting across the Mole. “He pledged to Toad that he would do so, and has said he intends to travel south, and take a boat to Egypt once more. Just imagine, Mole:

Egypt and the Nile! Araby and the Orient! Does that not inspire you?”