Bargle baited the hare unmercifully, yawning, stretching and patting his stomach. “Slep’ like a mole an’ snored like an ’og, mister Florian. Woke to a wunnerful brekkist—honey, ’ot scones, fresh mint tea an’ a little preserved fruit wid meadowcream. ’Fraid there’s none left. Very partial t’meadowcream us shrews are. Mind though, we did ask the cooks to save yer some crusts, didn’t we, Mayon?”

Turning his face to hide a grin, Mayon agreed. “Ho yes. Why, I said t’the cooks meself, I said, You be sure’n save a crust or two for mister Florian an’ ’is gallant sentries, a-guardin’ those walls out there while the likes of us are sleepin’ safe in our beds an’ fillin’ our stummicks!”

Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop’s ears stood erect with indignation. “Cads the lot of ye, wot! Small spiky-furred grub-wallopin’ bounders! Nothin’ worse than a grub-walloper. Come on, chaps, form up in a line an’ march off smartly. We’re not stoppin’ in the company of grub-wallopers an’ tuck-scoffers!”

As Florian led his sentries off down the wallstairs, Bargle called cheerily to him, “Grub-wallopers I don’t mind, but tuck-scoffers is the worst kind o’ beasts. You be sure an’ ’urry back now, sir!”

Florian’s whiskers bristled with outrage. “Unmitigated impudence, sir, confounded brass-necked cheek!”

Deesum popped her head around the kitchen serving hatch to warn the cooks. “Just thought I’d better tell you, mister Florian and the sentries are coming in from the walltops. They look pretty hungry, too!”

Brother Melilot clapped a paw to his forehead. “Oh dear, so they should be! I completely forgot to send out their breakfast this mornin’. They haven’t eaten since last night!”

Grandma Ellayo rescued her turnovers from the windowledge on which they were cooling, whisking them out of sight into a cupboard.

“Gracious me! If that ten-bellied hare is hungry we’d best hide everythin’, or he’ll eat us out o’ house an’ home, and there’ll be no feast at all!”

Rimrose counted her cheese and celery flans. “Florian must’ve already been here. There’s one missing.”

Foremole removed his hazelnut and elderberry pudding carefully from the oven, shaking his head at Rimrose. “Bain’t no Florian tukk that ’un, marm. Ee Dibbuns beat ’im to et!”

Rimrose busily stowed the flans away, chuckling. “Ah well, who could begrudge those liddle rogues a bite to eat? Hope they didn’t burn their mouths, though, these flans are still hot. Oh, Brother Melilot, is that shrimpberry pie the Dibbuns put together for Skipper ready?”

Melilot pulled the pie from an oven. “Done to a turn, marm!”

“Then why don’t we serve it to Florian instead?”

Melilot grinned at the thought of Florian tackling the highly unusual pie. “Why not indeed!”

*