Rollo gave the hogmaid a severe glance over the top of his glasses. "But do you feel well enough yet, Tansy?" he asked.
Friar Higgle glanced up from a slice of pie and chuckled. "Hohoho! Well enough, did y'say? Just look at 'er. If'n I felt that well I'd be up an' cuttin' a jig. That one's as spry as a whippy willow in a breeze!"
Tansy leapt from the bed to prove her point. "See! Oh, come on, please, please, or I'll make myself ill lying in bed thinking about it all. What d'you say, Martin sir?"
The Warriormouse tapped a paw against his chin. "Mmm, maybe ... But what if Sister Cicely comes back and finds one of her patients gone, what then?"
Higgle licked redcurrant from his paws. "Then I'll sling 'er into bed an' feed 'er warm nettle broth, an' see as 'ow she likes it! Hohohoho!"
Amid the general laughter at Higgle's outrageous suggestion, Rollo and Tansy clasped paws with Martin, their eyes shining as he spoke the words they were waiting to hear.
"Right, let's go and solve this thing, friends!"
Three lanterns illuminated Fermald's chamber as the trio set about their search. Rollo sat in the armchair and read out the first two lines of the rhyme.
"Look not up, nor to the four main points,
But where our paws do tread, the dead oak joints."
A faint smile hovered on Martin's lips as he questioned Tansy. "Now, missie, tell me. Which are the four main points?"
"Easy: north, south, east and west."
"Good! So if we can't look north, south, east or west and we can't look up ... Where else can we look?"
"I'd say down, Martin."
"Well done! And where do our paws usually tread?"
"On the floor?"
"Indeed they do. So, when an oak is dead our carpenters cut it lengthwise into long planks and joint them together into floorboards. D'you think we should look into the walls?"
Tansy giggled. "You're being silly now, Martin, we should look under the floorboards, of course!"
Rollo spread wide his paws. "All very clever, but this is a big attic, so where under the floorboards do we start looking?''
It was decided that they start at the far wall and together, working slowly, cover every bit of the attic floor. On all fours they went, pushing their lanterns ahead as they searched.
About a third of the way down the attic Rollo got up with a sigh and went to sit in the armchair, saying, "I've had enough for one night, friends. My old back is killing me and these eyes of mine aren't what they used to be."
Both Tansy and Martin remonstrated with the Recorder.
"Oh, come on, Rollo, you're no fun at all, you old grouch!"
"Yes, please, mister Rollo, don't fall asleep in that armchair."
"Up on y'paws now, or we'll take you to the sick bay and let Sister Cicely feed you warm nettle soup!"
"I'd help us if I were you, Rollo; that warm nettle soup tastes awful, it's like trying to drink dirty ditchwater!"
But Rollo refused to be moved. "No, my mind's made up. You're strong, Martin, and Tansy's young. You carry on, I'm too old..."
Martin had been creeping up behind the armchair as Rollo spoke, and suddenly he gave it a mighty shove. Rollo squeaked out in surprise; so did the little caster wheels as they rumbled along the floor, stopping just short of the far wall. Martin wagged a warning paw. "Now will you get up and help us, you old fraud?"
"Look, see here!" Tansy was on all fours inspecting the floor where the armchair had formerly stood. Rollo leapt from the chair to join Martin and Tansy at the spot.
"Where, what is it? Hold the lantern closer!"
It was a crude black ink drawing, sketched at a joint lengthways where one floorboard ended and another began: a simple picture of a spoon.
Martin forestalled their enquiries. "Before you ask me... Yes, I have Fermald's spoon right here in my belt."
He produced the polished buckthorn spoon and inserted it into the crack between both floorboards, muttering, "What am I supposed to do with it now, lever the board up?"
"No, sir, the spoon is too fragile. It'd break."
"Hmm, you're right, Tansy. Any ideas?"
"Perhaps if you wiggled it from side to side," Rollo suggested.
Martin tried, but nothing happened. He sat pondering the problem until Tansy said, "Try pushing it down, sir."
The Warriormouse pushed the spoon firmly into the crack. "Good try, Tansy, but there's still nothing happening."
Rollo peered at the problem from all angles. "Maybe if we all moved off the floorboardcome this side of it, you two. Try-pushing the spoon in now, Martin."
Martin did. There was a click and the floorboard lifted slightly, just enough for the Warriormouse to get a grip with his paws. He lifted and the board came out easily. Tansy scooped a small linen flourbag out of the space beneath.
"Hahah! Got it, good old Rollo!"
The Recorder beamed with pleasure as he inspected the empty space. "Yes, 'twas rather clever of me, wasn't it? The floorboard would never have risen while we were all kneeling on it. See, it was just a simple lever, the spoon pushes one end and the other end further along rises up and moves the floorboard. Shall we adjourn downstairs where we can sit comfortably by the fire in Cavern Hole? Everybeast should be abed by now. We can look at what we've found in peace and comfort; it's a bit chilly up here."
They were halfway along the dormitory corridor when Viola bankvole came bursting out of the main bedrooms. She was quaking and sobbing. Martin and Rollo caught hold of her.
"Viola, what's wrong, miss? Why are you so upset?"
The bankvole snuffled tears onto her nightgown sleeve. “The big bird, it was horrible! It came right against the gatehouse window and nearly got me. It had a sharp beak and great eyes and it was screeching. Waaahaaah!"
Tansy led her to the sick bay, comforting her. "Hush now, Viola, there there. It was only a dream. You can sleep in my bed, it's nice and quiet in the sick bay. There's only Friar Higgle and he's fast asleep. Lie down now."
They left a lantern by the bed to reassure Viola.
Walking back out into the corridor, Rollo gave a start and leaned fearfully against Martin. A small white-clad figure had materialized out of the gloom.
"Toogle doo Tansy pansy, I'm a likkle maggit!"
It was Arven, in a long white nightshirt. Giggling, he tripped into Tansy's outstretched paws. The hedgehog maid chided him. "You should be fast asleep. What have you been up to, eh?"
Arven drew two big gull feathers from his nightshirt. "A been ticklen Vola bankee onna nose. Heeheeheehee!"
Martin took the two feathers from the tiny squirrel. "You dreadful creature, so it was you frightening poor Viola into having nightmares! What are we going to do with you?"
Arven shrugged nonchalantly. "Phwah! Can't do anyfink wiv Dibbuns, not choppa tail off wivva big sword, ho no, Arven on'y likkle!"
Rollo shook his head despairingly. "He's right, y'know, there's not a lot we can do to a naughty Dibbun. There's only the fun things, like letting Mother Auma give him a good bath. It's nice when the soapsuds go up your nose and down your mouth and your eyes smart and you have to be still while she scrubs your tail with that hard brush and ..."
The rest of Rollo's words were lost on Arven as he wriggled out of Tansy's grasp and fled back into the dormitory, muttering, "Nono, I be good, I be good now, not lerra m'Auma get me inna baff."
As they went through the kitchens, they found that Teasel the hogwife had left a big parsnip and mushroom pastie to cool for morning before she went to her bed. Safe inside Cavern Hole, Martin grinned as they divided a slice between them. "I haven't stolen a slice of pastie since I was a Dibbun, huh, us three are worse than little Arven!"
Tansy blew on a slice of pastie to cool it, licking the dark rich gravy from her paws. "Wrong, Martin, if there were ten of us we couldn't make more trouble than that maggot. He's the terror of all Dibbuns, take it from one who knows!"
Rollo burned his tongue on the hot pastry. "Whooh! Excuse me, but are we going to sit here discussing Abbeybabes or is somebeast going to open that bag tonight?"