The Willows in Winter by William Horwood, Patrick Benson Read Free Book Online

risked
turning the boat across-stream and then, with strong and purposeful strokes as
the boat was caught by the full force of the current, he pulled it through and
over to the other side — right to the mooring itself.
    “There!” said Rat with satisfaction. “Now you
take the painter and leap out, like a good chap — yes now and quickly!”
    Mole’s Nephew did as he was told, but uneasily,
for he was, after all, an earth-bound animal and had not yet discovered the
joys of the river of which Mole himself had sometimes spoken.
    Rat followed him out and together they hauled
the boat up the bank and well clear of the water for, as the Rat said, “You can
never tell with the river how high it will come, or quite where. Now let’s make
her fast.”
    But just as he was about to do so
they heard the strangest, most ominous of sounds from somewhere further
upstream. A rasp and a roar. Then silence. Then a
dull chugging sound. Then silence again. Then a distant cough and
splutter, and then a sudden brief roar once more.
    “What’s that?” asked Mole’s Nephew.
    “I have no idea,” said the Water Rat, “but
whatever it is it’s up to no good.”
    “Yes, but —”
    “You might well say ‘Yes, but —’, considering
where that sound comes from!” said the Rat.
    “You mean —”Yes, I do mean,” said the Rat very
grimly indeed.
    “That sound, whatever it is, comes from Toad
Hall, which means that Toad himself is one way or another the cause of it,
which in turn means it ought to be investigated. Toad may be altered these
days, but I have never been as hopeful as Badger about that. Temptation is a
dreadful thing where the weak-willed are concerned, and I hope that ominous
sound does not signal some backsliding or other by Toad. I greatly fear he is
up to no good, no good at all, but we have a crisis on our hands and for now it
is better that we imagine that we have not heard it, and make our way without
more ado to Badger’s house in the hope that Toad will continue to be good.”
    With that, and the matter of Toad having so put
him out of countenance that the Water Rat quite forgot to make his boat fast,
and instead let the rope slip out of his hand onto the grass, the two animals
headed off towards the ‘Wild Wood.
     
    It was a very long time since the Rat had ventured into one of the
passages that Badger’s forebears had made centuries before from what was now
his home to the edge of the Wild Wood, so it was no easy task to find where it
began.
    “Or rather ends,” muttered the Rat, as he poked
about in yet another clump of damp and prickly undergrowth, “for what we’re
looking for is really an escape route. Badger said there were several, but the
one I’m looking for is the only one I have ever been shown. That was years ago,
when I first met Mole.
    “When I first met Mole!” repeated poor Rat to himself , remembering those halcyon days when all had been
well. He might have yielded to the tears that wished to flow, but suddenly, from
the general direction of Toad Hall, that throaty, unpleasant roaring sound came
forth again and put resolve and purpose back into the Rat’s eyes.
    “We shall find the entrance!” he said,
frowning and searching all the harder.
    “Couldn’t we go by the surface way?” said
Mole’s Nephew.
    “Not in winter, no. Far too
dangerous. There’s more than weasels and stoats in the Wild Wood —
that’s why Badger keeps his escape routes repaired and ready Anyway, although
the snow’s melting fast the last place of all where it thaws is in the ‘Wild
Wood itself, so the going would be hard in there. No, no, we’ll find — here it
is! Look!”
    He pushed aside some old creepers, dug under
some brushwood and dead leaves, and there, well hidden among some ancient tree
roots, was the entrance.

    They forced their way through the creepers into the cold and musty air
of the passage, then the Rat pulled a candle from his
bag, lit it and led them along a damp and airless