“There, there, little Rollo, you come with me. Matthias and Constance will see to your mama.”

Basil Stag Hare dashed to join them, a skinny bedraggled figure in the rain. “Oh, me poor old head. Hello, what’s up, you two?”

Constance sat by the pitiful bundle on the grass, wiping rainwater from her eyes. “She’s dead! Matthias, who could have done this?”

Matthias had his forehead flat against the wall. Rain mingled with the tears that filled his eyes.

“Who else but that rotten fox and his venomous gang. I was taken in, fooled! Oh, the filthy cowards! How could they murder a helpless creature like Mrs. Bankvole?”

From behind the open walldoor there came a faint moan. Matthias straightened up quickly and rushed towards the door as it swung back. John Churchmouse staggered out from behind the door, blood flowing from his temple where an ugly cut ran a jagged line from ear to ear. Matthias caught him, holding him up against the wall in the pouring rain.

“John, are you all right? What happened?”

The churchmouse wiped rainwater and blood from his eyes. He was obviously in deep shock, reliving the horrific events that he had witnessed.

“Stop . . . stop them . . . Get back, Mrs. Bankvole. . . . No, no! Come on, Hugo. . . . Got to stop them. . . . Blood . . . can’t see. . . . Where’s Hugo, where’s Hugo . . . ?”

He collapsed senseless against Matthias.

Constance stepped in, sweeping the unconscious churchmouse up with a single paw. “I’ll get John inside. Winifred, cover Mrs. Bankvole with a tablecloth for the moment. Matthias, Basil, see if you can find Friar Hugo!”

The big badger hurried off through the curtain of rain with her burden.

*   *   *

The warrior mouse and the hare searched frantically around the grounds in the increasing downpour.

“Friar Hugo, where are you?”

“Hugo, come on, old lad. Call out if you can hear us!”

Winifred the Otter bumped into Matthias as he rounded the bell tower. “No sign of Hugo?” she asked.

“None at all, Winifred. He must have followed them out of the grounds. Hi, Basil! Come on, let’s search the woodland outside the gate.”

The rain made loud splattering noises as it burst upon the tree canopy. Visibility was bad with rising mist in the woods.

Matthias searched in the loam, beneath bushes, behind trees and among ferns. Nearby he could hear Basil muttering through the deluge, “Come on, Hugo, you old pan-walloper, show y’self. I promise I’ll never raid your kitchens again, cross m’ heart and hope to starve.”

Winifred the Otter shook water from her sleek coat as she bobbed up and down, hoping to catch a glimpse of Hugo in the distance. She checked with Matthias.

“I don’t think a fat little mouse like Hugo could have travelled further than this. Perhaps we’d better make our way back to the Abbey and search the grounds more thoroughly,” she suggested.

Suddenly Matthias went rigid. “Listen, can you hear something, Winifred?”