Raga Bol's mood was sour. He still had not been able to find a way inside. He sat sullenly by the Abbey Pond with his crew. Badredd and his gang were there too, ineptly trying to catch a grayling. Bol had ordered them to cook him a fish for his supper.

Flinky had found a fishing pole in the gatehouse. He tried to make a cast with it. The fishhook got caught on Raga Bol's pirate hat. The hat was jerked off Bol's head and into the water.

Raga Bol roared with rage and booted Flinky headfirst into the pond. The stoat rose spluttering, as he tried to placate the irate searat. "Sure, I was only tryin' to catch a fat ould fish for yer 'onor's supper, like you wanted."

A gaunt searat named Ferron said, "What are we sitting around for, captain? Let's burn those beasts out of there, like you said earlier!"

Bol drew his scimitar menacingly. "Ye witless idiot! That Abbey is built o' stone. How d'you expect us to burn our way in?"

"You're not getting scared again, are you?" Ferron asked.

Raga Bol quaked with pent up tension. Ever since he'd first met up with that crocodile, his authority with the crew had been slipping. Ferron would never have dared talk to him like this before.

He looked to Wirga. "Wot say ye, old one?"

Wirga was drawing patterns in the banksand with a stick. She shrugged. "If the sons of Wirga were here, they could use their darts on anybeast who showed at the windows."

Bol glared at her. "But they ain't 'ere, are they? So do we burn 'em out, or have ye got a better way?"

Wirga sensed the danger in his tone. She made her reply diplomatically. "Why don't we set a fire on the lawn, in full view of the windows? As a warning, like? The sight of flames should alter their minds."

This was the answer the captain desired. He gave orders. "Crew, gather wood an' get lamp oil. Then set up a blaze on the lawn, where they kin see it. Wirga, take Chakka wid ye and go an' warn those fools inside wot'll 'appen if'n they don't surrender t'me!"

Flinky watched the rats dash off to their tasks. He realized he and his friends had been momentarily forgotten. He turned to Badredd and the others. "Come on now, while they're busy starting the bonfire we can make a run fer it!"

Badredd began trembling. "But wot if they catch us?"

Flinky could not keep the contempt out of his voice. "Huh, some grand ould leader ye turned out t'be. Yore better off stayin' here if'n yore too scared. We're goin'!"

He took off running for the south wallgate, and the rest of the gang followed. Badredd ran at the back of the pack, shouting, "Wait for me, mates. I'm comin' too!"

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The Abbot stood at the window, looking down at the two rats, Wirga and Chakka, who had been sent as messengers. He folded his arms. "What is it you want?"

Wirga began, "Our captain orders ye all to come out and surrender, or he will burn this place down around thy ears."

Foremole came up to the window, carrying a pail of garbage. The Abbot opened up the window and stepped aside for him. Foremole dumped the contents of the pail down onto the rats' heads.

Chakka spat out a mouthful of garbage. "I'm suffocated! Didn't anybeast ever tell you not to shoot the messenger?"

"Oi didn't shoot ee," Foremole said. "Oi just dropped garbage on ee."

Over on the lawn, Raga Bol and the others had lit their fire and the wood was burning. Suddenly a rat named Blowfly plodded up to Bol. "Cap'n, the vermin gang are gone. The gate's open, they must've escaped!"

Bol gritted each word out slowly, as if he were speaking to a dimwitted infant. "Well, go an' bring 'em back! Glimbo, you go wid 'im, an' don't show yer ugly faces back 'ere widout every last one of 'em. And shut the door behind you when you go out. If that croc is still lurking around, we don't want him getting in here!"

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The little gang of escaped vermin ran west. "Wodd duh we doo's now?" Plumnose asked. He addressed the question to Flinky, who all the gang looked to as their savior. There was no nonsense about Badredd being the leader now.

The triumphant stoat was never stuck for words. "Sure, we'll find a comfy spot where there's plenny o' vittles growin', clean water an' grand weather. That'll do fer us, a grand plan, eh?"

Juppa's voice was full of admiration. "Aye, that it is. We're with ye all the way, chief!"

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Glimbo and Blowfly came out the south gate. Blowfly unwound a long whip from about his flabby waist and cracked it. "I'll teach 'em t'run away. They'll be lucky to 'ave a hide to their backs by the time I'm done with them!"

Skeptical of ever finding them, the one eyed Glimbo complained volubly. "Wot in the name o' Hellgates do ye expect to find in this forest at night? We ain't even got a lantern!"

"I don't need no lantern. I got good blinkers."

They headed off into the woods, trying to pick up the fugitives' trail. They were just out of sight of the Abbey when they heard a familiar ticking sound. They turned around and saw the crocodile coming toward them, with Joshy Stag Hare riding on his back.

"What…" began Glimbo, but he was halted by the awful roar that came out of the crocodile's mouth.

That was the last sound either rat ever heard.