The clanking of the visitors’ feet grew steadily louder below, and though the humid air muffled their voices somewhat, he could hear their talk getting louder and clearer. Fear stilled his legs and feet, which he hoped might look, from below, like a part of the foliage, or perhaps some extra fruit or two, or even, if he was lucky, new growth.
He hoped too that those below — and there seemed to be three of them from the vague images he could make out through the fogged-up glass — would not pause too long in the general area where he hung, for the longer they did so the more likely it surely was that they would notice any debris that his crash had caused, and so look upwards rather more carefully than they might otherwise have done. He wished to identify them before calling on them for help.
Then he could see the top of their heads — bald heads in two cases, grey hair in the third — and they did stop. Right below him.
“Very interesting indeed’ he heard one of them say.
“My Lord —” the other began.
“‘My Lord’!” repeated Toad to himself desperately This was not good, not good at all. He quieted himself and listened to what else they said.
“My Lord Bishop,” the speaker continued.
Toad relaxed somewhat, for a Bishop, whatever the colour of his cloth, might be expected to be charitable in a case like his. This was most promising, and Toad was almost inclined to call out right away and reveal himself, for a Bishop would take care of him. But some instinct kept him silent.
“My Lord Bishop, this particular species is the only one of its kind in all of England, and we guard it carefully, as the Commissioner here knows.”
“That’s right’ said a cruel, harsh voice.
“‘Commissioner’!” muttered Toad. “That sounds to me ominously like an elevated police officer down below, a Commissioner of Police no less. From such a one I can expect no justice, no quarter.”
But then Toad heard something else, something worse, something dreadful.
For the Police Commissioner continued, with a joviality that almost froze Toad’s heart, “Well, all I can say is that if so splendid a specimen as this tree were stolen, or vandalised in any way, then I would not give the perpetrator a dog’s chance in your High Court, Judge!”
“‘Judge’?!” gasped Toad, his legs beginning to feel itchy again. “And ‘High Court’! That is more than an ordinary Judge — that is a Very Honourable and Senior Judge. That might almost be the Lord Chancellor himself!”
The three below showed no signs of moving, but talked on in an amiable way till Toad, peering down to see what he could, saw one of them peering up, and then stepping forward and to one side to get a better view.
“My Lord!” the inquisitive and unpleasant Judge called out — for the other two seemed about to move on. “Tell me, do you keep tropical beasts in here as well, perhaps for purposes of fertilizing the blooms, or the natural elimination of pests?”
“You mean tropical insects, spiders, that sort of thing?”
Insects! Spiders!
How dreadful were the creepings and the crawlings and the itchings about Toad’s lower half now. How near he was to crying out for mercy A life sentence in that drear dungeon from which he had escaped so long before — and so cleverly — seemed a holiday compared to the sufferings he was now being forced to endure.
“I was thinking of something rather larger, as a matter of fact.”
“You mean fruit-eating bats, or the larger sort of snake or Bats! Snakes!
“No no, something larger like, well, I am not quite sure — like that!”
It was no good, Toad could endure it no more. They had seen him, and if they had not then how long might he be left here after they had gone, to be frozen above, while below, something worse: basted by the humid heat, and then nibbled, and eaten and stung by spiders and insects, horrible snakes and fruit bats!
“Help!” cried Toad. “I am stuck! Free me and I shall go quietly!”
“Goodness me!” exclaimed My Lord Bishop.
“A thief!” cried the Commissioner of Police.
“We had best not judge till we have heard all the evidence’ said His Honour, Justice of the High Court.
“Help!” cried Toad. “I am an unfortunate aviator, who has fallen on hard times!”
As his muffled cries came down to them, others came running and there was great consternation down below though Toad was too terrified, too panicked, too eager to escape the purgatory of his position to listen to what was said. If only his top half might be comforted by hot water bottles, and his lower half packed with ice so that his body might recover something of its equilibrium, then he might be able to think clearly once more, and plan his escape.
But as they came to his help he did at least hear the declarations below that a flying machine had been seen to go over, that an aviator had plunged to the ground and that this poor fellow stuck above might be he. For the moment — and for Toad’s continuing liberty this was the most important thing — for the moment, at least, none guessed that Toad was Toad.
In one respect, at least, Toad’s presence of mind did not desert him. He guessed that once his flying gear was removed the game might be up. So when the glasshouse men ascended their ladders, and carefully came to free him, he said in a pathetic voice, “Do not take off my jacket or headgear, please do not, for I am nearly perishing with cold!”
Then, remembering something about the perils of deep-sea diving, he added knowledgeably, “It has to do with oxygen in the blood, you know Remove my headgear and I die!”
This appeal was heard and obeyed, and Toad at last felt himself being lowered onto the hothouse floor, there to be ministered to by the many people now milling about, as his mind swam away into fevered and humid unconsciousness.
VIII
Back from Beyond
When Toad drifted back to consciousness he felt his eyelids gently touched by a subdued light, and he seemed to be wallowing in a caressing atmosphere filled with the healing scents of lavender and rosemary.
He slowly opened his eyes to find his head supported by the softest of down pillows, encased in the finest of linen pillowcases, and his hands resting upon the crispest and whitest of turned-down sheets, beyond which, ruffled only by his now blissfully cool legs and feet, was a quilted eiderdown overlaid with a silken bedspread.
He was gratified to find himself still attired just as he had been, complete with goggles, his identity as aviator thus far seemingly intact.
He peered about suspiciously before taking the goggles off so that he might take a better look at where he was, and found himself in a large and spacious bedchamber, about as large as the refectory in Toad Hall itself.
He lay, like a well—framed picture, in the largest, highest and grandest of mahogany four-poster beds. Toad sighed with contentment and lazily examined his surroundings from his supine position. Across the room, though not quite opposite his bed, was a splendid coal fire, its flames warm and merry. Off to his left was an exterior wall, with two tall windows, reaching nearly as high as the lofty ceiling, and nearly as low as the floor, and curtained with the folds and drapes and hangings of the softest, palest of pale pink and mauve materials.
The curtains were not fully drawn, and from what he .could see the windows offered a view of the very extensive grounds above which he had flown, and down onto which fate had decreed he fall. Shifting his gaze further about the room, Toad saw with pleasure that, as if to match the room’s general magnificence, its wardrobes were of the finest and shiniest, and its dressing table of the most elegant, and there, on its fluted washstand, a Worcester bowl awaited his leisured use, and within it, steaming amiably, a huge jug containing hot rose-scented water.
Toad sighed once more and wiggled his feet, easing himself first to one side and then the other to feel how extensive and lasting his wounds and injuries might be. Certainly he ached, though not as much as he might have done, yet sufficiently to moan and groan a little to himself.
�
��Nothing broken,” he whispered feebly, “I think.” Then, raising first one arm and then the other, he pulled the sheets down a little for a moment, and added, “And no sign of blood or mortal wound. I shall survive! I shall live!”
He swallowed, and then felt his forehead, to test perhaps the advance of the pneumonia he had earlier feared would take hold of him.
“I have fought it off! I am still strong! I have been to the extremes of endurance without too much harm!”
Thus reassured, he glanced towards the windows once again and, wishing to see something of the world beyond, he leapt nimbly out of bed, went to the door to see that no person was outside it, turned the key in its lock and strode over to the nearest window.
It was now nearly evening, though not yet dark enough outside to prevent him seeing that the view did not so much take in all the grounds, but rather offered him what was surely the most elegant part, the most striking turn and vista of lawn, of balustrade, of choice rose-beds and most ancient and established of trees.
“Splendid,” he said, “and just what I would expect of a House honoured by a visiting aviator such as myself. However, we must be careful: this place appears riddled with Judges, Commissioners of Police and malevolent Lords, and as I saw on my descent, the Castle with its dungeon is not far off. Therefore, I must escape as soon as —But he was interrupted in his thoughts by a discreet turning of the door handle, and then an even more discreet knock, followed by the concerned voice of an elderly male saying, “Sir! Are you quite all right?”
Toad hastily closed the curtains, leapt back into bed with alacrity and in a tremulous voice called back, “I am ill, gravely ill I think. I should not have got up.
“The door is locked, sir; I cannot come in to give you the food and drink which His Lordship has sent up. Shall I leave it outside, perhaps?”
All this was spoken in an agreeably servile way by one whose only task in life, as it seemed to Toad, was to serve Toad, and it seemed a pity not to oblige him. The more so if food and drink was at hand, the mention of which caused Toad to feel immediately hungry and thirsty.
“Wait, while I struggle to the door,” called out Toad pathetically, which he did, very quickly.
He opened it a mite and peering out saw a butler standing there, tray in hand.
“I am not well at all, and the light disturbs my eyes,” whispered Toad. “I pray you let me get back into bed before you come in, and do not bring light into the room when you do — or, if you must, for though I can drink little and eat less it would be a shame not to at least try, place the light far from my bed.”
This was a pretty speech, but one which Toad sensed might appear a little too robust, so he sighed and moaned and groaned a little more, provoking the kindly butler to make soft sounds of concern.
“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.”
“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.
The Willows in Winter Page 11
