Mordalfus clapped a floury paw to his brow. “Goodness me, so we were. I’ll be right with you, my son.”

Matthias peered about in the activity and bustle. “Friar Hugo, have you seen Mattimeo?”

“Indeed I have, Matthias. The young feller’s a great help to me. Haha, I’ve sent him and his pals to roll cheeses out. That’ll keep them busy. Constance Badger is the only one large and strong enough to deal with a big yellow cheese, and I’ve told them to roll one out, hahaha. I’d love to see how they do that.”

Matthias winked at the Friar. “Don’t laugh too soon, Hugo. I’ve got news that’ll wipe the smile from your whiskers. Basil Stag Hare has just arrived. I let him in the main gate not a minute ago. He says that he’s been on a long patrol over the west plain and hasn’t had decent food in three sunrises. Oh, he also said to tell you he’s appointed himself official sampler.”

Matthias and Abbot Mordalfus left the kitchens with all speed. Friar Hugo was speechless at the news, but only momentarily. His fat little body puffed and swelled with indignation almost to bursting point. As they hurried across Great Hall, Hugo’s outraged squeaks followed them.

“What? Never! I’m not having any retired regimental glutton feeding his face in my kitchens. Oh no! Why, the skinny great windbag, he’ll eat us out of storeroom and larder before sunset; then, fur forbid, he’ll meet up with that Ambrose Spike and start sampling the barrels. We’ll have to tell the young ones to cover their ears when those two get to singing their barrack-room ballads and wild woodland ditties. Oh my nerves, I don’t think I’ll be able to stand it.”

*   *   *

Cornflower and Mrs. Churchmouse were carrying a bundle of roses across the Abbey grounds. The blooms ranged from white, right through the shades of yellow, intermixed with lilacs, pinks, carmines and crimsons, to the rich dark purples. Suddenly they were confronted and relieved of their burdens by a lanky old hare whose patchwork-hued fur defied description. His swaying lop ears twitched and bent at the most ridiculous angles as he bowed, making a deep elegant leg to the two mice.

“Allow me, laydeez, wot wot? Two handsome young fillies totin’ all this shrubbery, doesn’t bear thinkin’ about, eh,” he said gallantly. “Basil Stag Hare at y’service, gels. Hmmm, my my, is that cookin’ I smell? Ha, old Hugo burnin’ somethin’ tasty, I’ll be bound. I say, d’you mind awfully if I leave you two ravin’ beauties to carry all these lovely roses, charmin’ picture. Must go now, investigatin’, doncha know. See you later, after tiffin, p’raps. Toodle pip now!”

Cornflower and Mrs. Churchmouse collapsed in tucks of laughter as the odd hare shot off in the direction of Friar Hugo’s kitchen.