Chapter 10 – All on a Tuesday Morning

At first light on Tuesday morning, Portly and his father set out to call on the Water Rats. They had scarcely turned the first bend in the river when they met Ratty and Cola rowing up the river. There was a brief mid-stream conference with the two boats side by side. Otter hoped to persuade Ratty to come with them to town. The Water Rats were adamant however: they were going back to Toad Hall; it was probably their last chance to spend time among the elves. After some discussion it was agreed that the otters, once they had finished their business in town, would call at Toad Hall and talk with Radagast. "After all," said Cola, "he is the sole reason for all this back-and-forth; he has given you – and Badger too – a great deal of bother."

Otter could not argue with that, indeed he had had scarcely a moment to himself since the arrival of that singular arrest warrant. Why was he not going to Toad Hall to arrest the wizard? It was his sworn duty to uphold the law: as soon as he arrived in town he ought to go straight to the police station and lay information as to the whereabouts of the wanted man. He was not going to do that, and he was not clear in his own mind as to why.

The two boats parted and went their own ways. The two water rats rowed straight past Otter's home, eager to get to Toad Hall. They had quarrelled the previous night: they had got round to wondering why they had left Toad Hall at all, and ended up with each blaming the other. Such incidents are the stuff of married life; by the time they had tied up and were wandering across the manicured lawns towards the house they were un-self-consciously hand-in-hand. Only many happy years later, thinking back to these adventures, did they realise that this very moment marked the great turning point, the watershed in their lives.

They might well have realised, then and there that something had changed, but turning a corner they were taken aback by the sight of a motor vehicle of enormous length standing in front of the grand entrance. It was a charabanc, the first either had seen. The only person in sight was sitting in the driver's seat and smoking a pipe. A few hurried steps and Ratty recognised the driver: it was a weasel they both knew. Sidney had moved Cola's things from her parents' home to Ratty's place when they had got married, and since then had helped with the movement of furniture in and out as Cola had spruced the place up and made it a fitting home for an aspiring married couple.

"Morning Sidney," called Ratty, mindful that the weasel did not care to be called 'Sid' by anyone. "Are they all moving out, the guests?"

"Nice machine, eh, Mr Rat. Good morning to you Mrs Rat. Today I'm only taking a few of 'em, what they calls 'an advance party'. Now on Thursday they've got four of these coaches booked. It's a one-way trip, so I reckon that's when they're all going."

Sidney pulled on his pipe, and then it occurred to him that the big news in the Wild Wood might not have reached the River Bank. "Have you heard the big news, sir, about the stoats I mean? They put everyone in the picture last night."

Ratty was intrigued and shook his head. Cola, though, was not to be delayed; she went around the charabanc and climbed the broad steps up to the open doors.

"They are leaving: the stoats - every last man jack of them - is leaving the Wild Wood!" Sidney sounded shocked and annoyed. "They 'have decided to emigrate' – that's what they said. What do you make of that?"

Ratty was agape. "They are kidding aren't they? It isn't serious … is it?"

"We all thought that at first, sir, but they are serious, and the first party has already booked their passage. They are taking ship to the New World, and they have already asked me for a quote to take them down to Southampton docks."

Meanwhile Cola had gone into the vestibule. Radagast was there and he noticed the change in her at once, for he had been expecting it. Now was not the time for lengthy expositions, so he merely greeted her with a slight bow and a twinkle in his eye: "Good morning Cola, can I guess what brings you here?"

. . . . . . .

Deep in the Wild Wood, Ma Ferret herself was not surprised by the stoats' announcement, for she had her informants. She was therefore able to concentrate on the other recent news: the gathering of strangers near the village. Naturally, she was having them watched. She was arranging for a small group to go and parley with them (with a larger armed group as back up), when a runner came with news that they had walked "bold as brass" through the village before dawn, hauling a large hand-cart, and were now encamped in the garden of The Earth, which Fox had left only the day before. There were ten or twelve of them, all rather short for men, and they were dressed for the most part as common labourers, with big hob-nailed boots.

"But their chief," said the runner, a rather young and impressionable ferret, "is dressed up in some sort of strange uniform. He was giving them orders in a foreign language."

If they were now on Fox's land then they were Fox's problem and not Ma's, and she could depend on the villagers to keep a wary eye on them. These strangers were probably just a gang of Welsh labourers come to do some job for Fox. She gave orders for their surveillance to be dropped. But she did send other runners to let Badger and Otter know what was happening. These were strange times and the locals should look out for each other.

. . . . . . . .

Well before Ma's runner reached Otter's home, a messenger from the town police arrived with a document for Otter, and found only Mother Otter and her little ones at home. The envelope was sealed with wax and looked, and indeed was, very official. The messenger, a young police cadet pleased to be free of his sergeant's critical eye, settled in a comfortable chair to enjoy Mother Otter's hospitality. He explained that the envelope should be left for the magistrate himself to open, but that its contents were not confidential. "Indeed," he said, "they will very shortly be common knowledge; notices are to be stuck up in post offices and public places this very day. You've heard about this wanted man, Radagast the Spy?"

"Yes deary."

"Well that's got more serious. The Government have gone and made him an outlaw."

"Sorry constable, but what does that mean?"

The cadet tried to remember what the sergeant had said only two hours ago: "Well it means that he is an outlaw – outside the law – and has no legal rights. Anyone can arrest him or even kill him with … with impunity." He was proud of getting that word right. "The new notices will say that he is 'wanted dead or alive'."

"That's dreadful. Suppose someone killed him, and then found out they had killed the wrong man!"

"Well… we don't say 'kill', this isn't the Wild West. It's just a legal thing: it says: 'Wanted dead or alive the outlaw Radagast'. It's just words to say we mean business."

Mother Otter was not convinced: "It may not be the Wild West, but just over there is the Wild Wood. How do you think they will take it, especially with a hundred pounds award still going?"

She was sounding angry and had raised a nasty point he had not considered. He hurriedly thanked her for the tea and cake, and began the long cycle ride back to town. No sooner was he out of sight than the waiting ferret came out of her concealment and presented her with Ma's message about the strange gang at The Earth.

. . . . . . . .

Arriving in town, Otter and his son went directly to the Grand Hotel, and were shown up to the gentleman's suite. For a moment Otter lost his self-assurance: why was he, a humble animal and a mere rural magistrate, knocking on the door of some great captain of industry in order to ask impertinent questions? The moment quickly passed, and Otter was again his normal self. He knocked confidently, and in return they heard an "enter." As they entered a seated figure rose to greet them. Otter's prepared opening died with a splutter of shock and surprise, and he could manage only one word, half question and half exclamation: "TOAD!?"