Dingeye shoved Thura sideways, and he rolled down into the slime. “An abbey, weedbrain, abbey. That must be the one called Redfall, or summat. I ’eard of it one time off of a fox.”

Thura stood up, wringing damp and ooze from his dirty shirt. “Huh, you don’t know any foxes, slobber-chops. An’ if yer did they prob’ly wouldn’t wanna know you. Redfall Nabby, chah!”

Dingeye leapt on him and clamped a paw over his mouth. “Shurrup, somebeast’s a-comin’ this ways.”

Several moles came trundling along the path in the wake of their leader, a Foremole. The stoats watched from the ditch as the Foremole hailed the walltop.

“Yurr, gudd morn to ’ee, Sankin, an’ ’ee, young ’Rula. Be guddbeasts naow an’ oppen ’ee gate fer uz.”

The young ones skipped down the west wallsteps to open the big main gate of Redwall. As the moles filed in, Dingeye nudged Thura.

“Come on, mucker. ’Ere we go. Imagine yer a mole, and we’ll latch on to the line an’ march in with ’em!”

Scurrying across the path, they joined the file behind the back mole, crouching double and making moleish sounds. “Hoo arr, mucker, ho urrmucker, hur hurr!”

Walking with heads down, they marched slapbang into Thrugg. The brawny otter grabbed both stoats by their scruffs. “Back oars, mateys. Where d’you think yer off to?”

Dingeye fell on all fours. Grasping Thrugg’s left leg, he began wailing outrageously. “Ho, woe is us, sir. Kindness’ll foller yer all yer days if’n yer shows pity on a pair of gentlebeasts fallen on ’ard times!”

Thura joined his companion, clasping Thrugg’s other leg. “Wahaah! Yer a luvverly creature, sir. We ’ad a mother once, just like yerself. Don’t turn me an’ me mucker away yet Lordship. Show charity ter two starvin’ wretches. Whahahaah!”

Thrugg folded his paws across his chest, unable to move one way or the other. He called out to Samkim above the wailing, “Cut along an’ fetch Abbess Vale, young’n. Sharpish now!”

*   *   *

By the time the Abbess arrived the two stoats were facedown on the Abbey lawn, kicking their limbs and blubbering unmercifully. She held up both paws. “Silence, please. Stop all this caterwauling. You’re not injured!”

Dingeye appeared inconsolable, strewing grass on his head, pounding the earth with all paws and sobbing brokenly. “Not injured! Aaaaaoooowwww! Kind lady, if only you knew the ’arf of it. If yer calls starvin’, ill fortune an’ limpin’ round the land till yer paws are wore down t’ the bone not injured, then so be it. But say nothin’ of the days of ’eartache, an’ the freezin’ cold rainy nights, an’ not a pudden rag atwixt me an’ my mucker ’ere t’ keep us warm an’ dry from the thunder an’ lightnin’. Not injured, yer say? Wahahahaah!”