This set off the twin Abbey bells, booming out their message of home and safety for all.
The Abbey gates swung open as cheering creatures rushed down the path en masse to greet the travellers. Swaggering martially at the column's head, Diggs (alias Colonel Crockley Sputherington) bellowed out orders in fine parade-ground style. "Eyes front! Hold the line, back
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there! Mind your dressing, watch your pace, keep in step! No breakin' off an' dismissin' 'til I give the command!" His words were suddenly lost as both sides met.
Dymphnia Witherspyk seized Jiddle and Jinty, squeezing them until they were gasping for breath. "Oh, my beautiful liddle hogs, I've not slept a wink since you've been gone. Oh, my dears, y'don't know what this does to a mother's heart!"
Diggs pushed roughly past the trio, trying to restore some order to the happy chaos. "By the left, right'n'centre, discipline's gone to flamin' pot. They're nought but a bloomin' rabble!"
Dymphnia gave him a hefty pat on the back, which nearly knocked him flat. She steadied him, gushing, "Oh, well done, Mister Diggs, well done!"
He stood quivering with rage from ear to scut. "Mister Diggs, marm? Confound Mister flippin' Diggs an' all his blinkin' ilk. D'ye know whom you're addressin'?" He strode off, waving his swagger stick, yelling, "Back in your ranks, you slab-sided puddle-pawed cads!"
Dymphnia was perplexed. She turned to Buckler. "What did I do? Did I say something wrong?"
The young hare drew her to one side as the jubilant crowd flooded through the gates into the Abbey grounds. "You'll have to forgive him, marm. It's that wound he took to the head. Thinks he's some otherbeast now, wants t'be called Colonel Crockley Sputherington."
Dymphnia allowed Jiddle and Jinty to run off and be reunited with the rest of their family. "Oh, dear, I never guessed that. I knew he'd been injured, but nobeast told me about Mister Diggs thinkin' he was some other creature. Ah, well, not to worry, Buck. I'll soon fix him."
She hurried off after her babes, not explaining how she could effect a cure for Diggs.
Fortunately, the orchard decorations had been left up, and thanks to the good efforts of Friar Soogum and his staff, a further feast was set up, waiting. When everybeast
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was gathered there, Abbess Marjoram mounted an upturned wheelbarrow.
Skipper called the chattering, laughing crowd to order. "Ahoy, mates, silence one an' all for Marjoram, Mother Abbess of Redwall. Stow the gab an' quiet, please!"
Visibly moved by the sight of the freed captive young ones, Marjoram wiped a habit sleeve across her eyes and sniffed several times before starting her speech.
"Welcome to Redwall Abbey, my friends, both old and new! You are all free to live here in peace and safety. Please treat this place as your home for as long as you wish. Now, I won't waste a beautiful and happy summer's eve with lots of boring talk. I see you are hungry and tired. Sister Fumbril, Drull Hogwife and other helpers--not forgetting our new friend, Mumzy Water Vole--will tend to the babes. They will have fine new clothes, a dormitory with soft little beds and, who knows, maybe a good bath in our Abbey pond tomorrow. But for now I want you all to enjoy the feast. Eat, drink, sing, dance and be merry. And once more welcome, twice welcome and thrice welcome to Red-wall Abbey. Let the celebrations begin!"
Everybeast tucked in with a will. The appetite of the newly arrived young ones was so hearty that Friar Soogum stood wide-eyed.
"Goodness me, I'll have to get extra supplies from the kitchens if they carry on at this rate!"
Drull Hogwife shook her head in wonderment. "I thought those liddle uns was wearied out an' more'n ready to sleep. Good grief, lookit them eat!"
Tura lifted her smudged face from a bowl of blackberry sponge in arrowroot sauce. "Beggin' y'pardon, marm, but if'n you'd never seen vittles like this, wot'd you sooner do, eat or sleep?"
Smiling at the squirrelmaid's logic, Skipper filled himself a bowl of his favourite shrimp'n'hotroot soup. "Well said, missy, they can always sleep later. Ahoy, Colonel, d'ye want to try a bowlful o' this?"
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Diggs had not touched food thus far. He had been wandering about the orchard, chunnering to himself. Curling a lip at the Otter Chieftain, he snapped, "Doesn't anybeast think of anythin' but stuffin' one's flippin' face? A disgustin' exhibition, sah! Those young uns should be abed now, catchin' up on their shuteye, wot, wot? Well, alls I can say is that they'd better be up bright'n'early on the morrow. Ho, yes, I want t'see them all on parade, ready for a long route march! I'll lick 'em into shape, sah, see if I don't!"
Cellarmole Gurjee objected strongly. "You'mTl do nuthin' of ee sort, zurr. They'm likkle uns needs carin' furr!"
Dymphnia Witherspyk did not seem in agreement with Gurjee. "Oh, tut tut, sir. I'm sure a good long march'll do the babes a power o' good. Ain't that right, Oakie?"
Putting aside a hefty fruitcake, Oakheart nodded. "Quite right, m'dear! Oh, Colonel, might I have a private word with ye, a whisper in your good ear, sir?"
The Colonel strutted over to where Oakheart was sitting. Leaning down, he bent his unbandaged ear at the florid hog. "Whisper on, sah. What d'ye jolly well want?"
With a chunk of the cake clutched in one paw, Oakheart swung out, catching the hare a stunning blow to the back of his head. Colonel Crockley Sputherington fell to the grass, knocked out cold.
There was an immediate uproar. Buckler ran at Oakheart, his paws clenched. "What'n the name o' blood'n'vinegar did y'do that for?"
Trajidia wailed, "Oh, Father, what a cowardly thing to do, striking down a poor beast in such a sly manner!"
Oakheart merely grinned, consulting his wife's opinion. "How was that, m'dear? Did I do it right?"
Dymphnia clutched his fruitcake-filled paw. "Couldn't have done it better myself, Oakie. You hit him right on the button, just as I did to you, darling!"
The Abbess hurried forward with a pail of cold water and a cloth. "Will somebeast pray tell me what's going on?"
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Dymphnia obliged willingly. "My Oakie once struck his head on the tiller of our raft, knocked himself clean out. When he came to, he thought he was an owl. Egbert Whootfellow, we had to call him. We put up with him for six days, sitting perched on top of the mast making owl noises. In the end, I could stand it no longer. So, I climbed the mast when he was asleep one night and shoved him off. He wasn't really an owl, you see, couldn't fly. Fell to the deck headfirst, knocked out again. Would you believe it, when he came around again he was Oakheart Witherspyk once more. I think it was the second knock to his head that cured him."
Abbess Marjoram rolled up her habit sleeves. "Right, let's see, shall we?"
Whoosh! She emptied the bucket of cold water over the head of the senseless hare. He sat up groaning. Wiping water from his eyes, he swiftly viewed the splendid feast, then launched into a tirade.
"Yah, you rotten bunch o' cads, helpin' your bally selves to all this bloomin' tuck while I was asleep! I hope your scringey tails wither an' drop off!"
Buckler threw a paw about his friend. "Diggs, is it really you?"
Wrenching himself loose, his companion began heaping a plate with all he could lay his paws on. "Of course it's me, ye great blitherin' oaf! Who did ye think it was, a duck with a top hat on? Call y'selves friends, wot! Rotten, the whole bunch of you are, lowly bounders'n'cads. What a slimy trick t'pull on a starvin' young subaltern. I'll never speak to you again, never! Specially you, Buck Kordyne!"
Without warning, his mood changed. He smiled. "I say, that summer salad looks jolly nice. Mind passin' me a goodly portion, Buck old lad, wot?"
Everybeast laughed, cheering at the transformation. Diggs was Diggs once again, gluttonous as ever.
The feast continued until dawnlight, when lots of young ones fell fast asleep where they sat, bowls and spoons still