The Willows in Winter (18 page)

“No, no, I am — well enough,” whispered Toad
hoarsely, as he retreated back to the bed, skipped quickly into it and pulled
the sheet up to his nose, before ordering the butler in.

He watched the butler potter about and eyed the
tray he carried very greedily, for its contents gave off mouth-watering odours.
The butler then placed a candle on the far mantel and retreated to the door.

From there he said, “His Lordship and his
guests wish you a speedy recovery, sir. They are greatly honoured to have you
here and will no doubt wonder if perhaps you need any medical attention? I
believe that Nurse felt the best remedy was sleep in the first instance.”

“Sleep and time’ concurred Toad, “are what I
need. Please thank His Lordship and ask for his patience for a day or so, that
I might be allowed to recover in peace —”

The butler nodded and slipped silently away.

Toad waited for no more than an instant before
throwing his covers off and leaping up to examine the contents of the tray
There were scrambled eggs, and thinly sliced toast with the crust cut off, and
tea, and a compote of fruits, and a small decanter of dry white wine of
undeniable vintage.

“It would be perfect if there were more of it,”
said Toad, scoffing the lot in an instant. “But adventurers must take things as
they find them. Make do, that’s what I say!”

Toad sank back with a contented sigh onto the
soft bed and pondered what to do.

His leather flying gear was now getting
somewhat hot, so he must see to that. It was dark outside so there was no use
in trying to escape quite yet. Apart from the lack of immediate further
sustenance he seemed well placed.

“I shall stay awhile,” he decided, “and have a
bath and a sleep. I shall leave an instruction for that butler in the hope of
ordering up more food. In the morning I shall decide when and how to depart!”

The instruction was duly given through a crack
in the door to some passing chambermaid or other, in an even paler and frailer
voice than before, to the effect that though ill and much fatigued his appetite
was somewhat restored and he would essay a little more food, including,
perhaps, some meat, potatoes, vegetables, sweets, sweetmeats, wine (red and
white) followed (a little later in the evening) by some port and sweet biscuits
— enough to last the long night through.

At the same time, and to save the servants
trouble later, he asked that some hot water be sent in, sufficient to allow him
to soak his body right up to his chin. If this, along with a portable bathtub,
might be brought as soon as possible it would aid his recovery wonderfully, he
said.

“No need to tire
yourself
coming to the door’ the maid explained. “Ring the bell by the fireside and Mr
Prendergast the butler will come. That’s ‘is job. The bath and that’ll be up
straightways
— ring after that and
supper’ll
be there in no time!”

The tub and water duly came, and Toad took a
leisurely bath, humming to himself as he did so. Then, duly coiffed, perfumed,
dusted and
betowelled
, he rang the bell as he had
been advised and clambered up onto the bed to await the delivery of his second
supper. The feast was duly delivered, and spread upon a large mahogany table
near the fire (which was re-fuelled, stoked and
pokered
for him) all ready and, as it were, willing.

“Ho!” cried Toad once he was alone, and the
door locked again, sitting himself down at the carver provided, and beginning
to eat whatever took his fancy, and to drink whatever he could reach. “This is
the life! This is the natural order of things. I do not regret that Badger and
Rat and Mole cannot see me now, for if they could they would feel envious. They
are lowly animals, I fear, without ambition and therefore without hope. But I,
Toad, make things happen! This is my life as it was meant to be!”

He ate rather more than he should, and
certainly drank more than was good for him, so that as the evening wore on and
the fire grew dimmer Toad began to slip into a slumber that was dangerously
like a stupor. Then he crawled back into bed.

So Toad’s first night in luxury passed by, and
it was the beginning of three days of utter self-indulgence at the expense of
someone else, during which he took the greatest advantage of his situation,
putting from his mind the thought that his good fortune could not last forever.

Nor did it, for on the fourth
morning the butler Prendergast, now his friend, called upon him.
Toad hastily put on his headgear
and goggles once more and allowed him in.

“Sir” said he, “as I intimated the day before
yesterday, and again more strongly yesterday, His Lordship is now anxious that
you should descend.”

“Descend?” said Toad, muttering the miserable
word most reluctantly, for he knew what it meant — that he must descend the
stairs into reality, and the certainty of discovery. He vaguely remembered
explaining a good many times that he was still ill, and must still wear his
aeronaut’s outfit, and thinking that his excuses and prevarications were
wearing thin.

“Yes, sir.
The time has come to go downstairs.
His Lordship awaits you, as he has these days past, and others too.

“Others?” whispered Toad, with the gravest of
forebodings.

“Certainly, sir.
There is the Royal Commissioner of
Police, His Honour the Right Eminent Justice of the Very Highest Court
Imperial, and several gentlemen of the Press.”

“All wishing to see me?”

“Yes, sir’ said the butler.

“To speak to me?”

“To interview you, sir, I should say
In
the absence of your person they have been striving to
interview me, sir, but my lips are sealed.”

Interview! He was right then. He was suspected,
despite his disguise, and even he could not easily fool a Commissioner of the
Police and an eminent Justice.

“I am in a desperate situation,” said Toad
sombrely.

“You are too modest, sir.”

“Ah!” thought Toad. “It is even worse than I
thought! If being ‘desperate’ is merely ‘modest’, in what position must I
really
be!
”

“I am not a rich man,” began Toad in his most
unctuous voice, “but if you would help me escape, unseen, then I could perhaps
slip you a — a form.”

“A form, sir?” said the respectable
Prendergast, puzzled.

“Two then, though that is generous.
“Two, sir?”

“You are a hard fellow, and a heartless one!”
cried Toad. “A gold guinea is the highest I can go —
The
butler smiled and shook his head.

“I think I understand, sir, but regretfully I
must decline. Though we all applaud your modesty after so extraordinary an
achievement, yet
England
must be allowed to give credit
where credit is due and you must get your just reward, if I may say so, sir,
without being presumptuous.”

“Out.
of
here, you crawling
fellow!” cried Toad, incensed. If the butler would not help him — indeed, was
inclined to throw his difficulties into his face with sarcasm — then he, Toad,
would find another way.

“Out!” said Toad.

And out the butler went, though not without
saying as he did so, “His Lordship
will
insist on seeing you later
today, I fear, to prepare for your reception tomorrow”

Toad set to work thinking about his escape, and
it was not easy He had long since discovered that he was quite unable to open
the huge window, so that way out was barred to him. The corridors outside were
patrolled by tall lithe footmen and chambermaids with loud voices, and he saw
that he would not easily get past them. So that as the morning wore on he could
only shake his head and reflect that his period of freedom was nearly over and
that if he could manage another splendid lunch, and port to follow, and coffee,
and a sleep, then he would at least have another happy memory to take to gaol
with him.

It was as he was mournfully pondering on this,
and staring out of the window at the gardens and outhouses below, that he saw
somebody and something that made him sit up, clap his hand to his brow and say,
“That’s it! Not only a means of speedy escape, but of disguise as well! But
wait! He’s leaving!’ I must act!”

Without more ado Toad took up that morning’s
copy of
The Times,
screwed it into a ball and stuffed it up the chimney,
which immediately began to smoke and send forth choking fumes.

Coughing and spluttering, Toad staggered to the
bedroom door and called for help, which soon came.

He needed do no more than point mutely at the
smoking chimney before there was a shout down the corridors of, “Sweep! Stop
the sweep! Send him to the Most Honoured Guest’s bedroom.”

“Cunning and brilliant,” said Toad to himself,
retreating to the bed and hiding beneath the sheets, coughing and spluttering
for show.

Moments later the chimney sweep, the same he
had just seen leaving the grounds and who no doubt had been at work in some
other part of the House, appeared, broom-laden and sooty. Others appeared with
him, but Toad ordered them out.

“Leave him to help me alone,” he croaked. “Too
many people distress me.

The sweep took a slow look at Toad, then at the
chimney, and then at Toad again. “Bad, very bad,” said he, “and dirty too. Be
an extra sixpence on the job as was,
Yer
Ludship
.”

“The silly fellow thinks I am His Lordship,”
said Toad gleefully to himself, “or one of them. I can see he’s not just a
sweep, but a foolish sweep.
All the better for me then!”

Without another glance at the bed where Toad
lay malingering and letting out an occasional cough or wheeze for good measure,
the chimney sweep quickly set to work. Toad watched covertly as he produced
from the voluminous sack he had carried, some very pliable canes, and a number
of pieces of cloth. With a “
beggin
’
yer
pardon, sir” he took the water jug from the closet and
doused the fire. Then, bending the canes into the awkward corners of the huge
fireplace, he used them to fix the cloths in place so that anything falling
down the chimney would be caught in their folds.

“Won’t be so much as a speck of dust inside or
out when I’ve finished,” he said, largely to himself
,  “
for
I am renowned throughout the shire for my cleanliness.”

Toad marvelled that this was so, seeing as the
sweep was as grubby and sooty a person as he had ever seen.

“Do you mind if I watch?” said Toad. “For I
rarely see such a master craftsman as yourself at work.”

“Why, sir,” said the sweep,
who
was just in the act of screwing on the first length of cane to the head and
thrusting it up the chimney through a fold in the cloths, “I should be
honoured.”

Toad crept nearer.

“It must,” he said in a sympathetic way “
be
a thirsty job.”

“It is, sir,” said the sweep, screwing another
length onto the bottom of that already going up the chimney, “and though I’m
not a drinking man by nature I will say it is my habit to end the day with a
small drink.”