ove their things in to Toad Hall, and sleep
there, and keep it aired, and have it all ready for you when you
turned up. They didn't guess what was going to happen, of course;
still, they had their suspicions of the Wild Wood animals. Now I come
to the most painful and tragic part of my story. One dark night--it
was a _very_ dark night, and blowing hard, too, and raining simply
cats and dogs--a band of weasels, armed to the teeth, crept silently
up the carriage-drive to the front entrance. Simultaneously, a body of
desperate ferrets, advancing through the kitchen-garden, possessed
themselves of the backyard and offices; while a company of skirmishing
stoats who stuck at nothing occupied the conservatory and the
billiard-room, and held the French windows opening on to the lawn.

"The Mole and the Badger were sitting by the fire in the smoking-room,
telling stories and suspecting nothing, for it wasn't a night for any
animals to be out in, when those bloodthirsty villains broke down the
doors and rushed in upon them from every side. They made the best
fight they could, but what was the good? They were unarmed, and taken
by surprise, and what can two animals do against hundreds? They took
and beat them severely with sticks, those two poor faithful creatures,
and turned them out into the cold and the wet, with many insulting and
uncalled-for remarks!"

Here the unfeeling Toad broke into a snigger, and then pulled himself
together and tried to look particularly solemn.

"And the Wild Wooders have been living in Toad Hall ever since,"
continued the Rat; "and going on simply anyhow! Lying in bed half the
day, and breakfast at all hours, and the place in such a mess (I'm
told) it's not fit to be seen! Eating your grub, and drinking your
drink, and making bad jokes about you, and singing vulgar songs,
about--well, about prisons and magistrates, and policemen; horrid
personal songs, with no humour in them. And they're telling the
tradespeople and everybody that they've come to stay for good."

"O, have they!" said Toad, getting up and seizing a stick. "I'll jolly
soon see about that!"

"It's no good, Toad!" called the Rat after him. "You'd better come
back and sit down; you'll only get into trouble."

But the Toad was off, and there was no holding him. He marched rapidly
down the road, his stick over his shoulder, fuming and muttering to
himself in his anger, till he got near his front gate, when suddenly
there popped up fr