“I’m not a spy,” said the Toad hoarsely.
“Well, if you’re not a spy, what are you?” asked Simon grimly.
“I’m a . . . I'm . . . a . . . I’m a fur trader from Vladivostok,” said the Toad, “and I’ve got a wife and six kids wot I’ve got to support."
“You’re nothing of the sort,” said Peter indignantly.
“Don’t I look like a fur trader from Vladivostok wot’s finding it ’ard to make ends meet?” asked the Toad plaintively.
“Not a bit,” said Simon.
The Toad thought about it for a moment. “ ’Ow about a diamond merchant wot’s come all the way from Zululand, then?” he asked, brightening.
“You don’t look like that, either,” said Peter.
“A famous brain surgeon from Katmandu?” asked the Toad hopefully.
“No,” said Simon.
“Then I’ll tell you the troof,” said the Toad earnestly. “I’m a rich dairy farmer from Ontario, wot’s on ’oliday and is ’ere visiting ’is niece.”
“I don’t believe you,” said Penelope. “You’re a spy.”
“I’m not a spy, ’onest I’m not,” protested the Toad. “ ’Onest, miss. It’s just like wot I was telling you. I’m a very well-to-do corn merchant wot’s traveling incognito to do a bit of business, like.”
“You’re nothing but a spying Toad,” said Peter.
“Yes, and a miserable, ill-favored Toad at that, wearing a wig and cutaway coat and a ridiculous top hat,” said Simon.
“You got no call to insult me ’at,” said the Toad, in a hurt tone of voice. “It’s a jolly posh ’at, this is—one of me best disguises—I mean ’ats.”
“You’re a spy,” said Peter. “And you know what happens to spies.”
“I’m not a spy, I swear it, I’m not,” said the Toad feverishly. “You can’t ’urt me, ’cos I’m not a spy.”
“Spies get shot,” said Simon.
“Or tortured,” said Peter.
“Or both,” said Parrot grimly.
“ ’Ere! Now steady on! There’s no need for that sort of talk,” said the Toad desperately. “ ’Ere, look, I’ll come clean with you. I didn’t want to tell you, but you made me.”
“Well?” said Simon.
“I’m a h’exceedingly rich merchant banker of Lithuanian h’extraction, wot’s got a wife, two kids, and an aging old mum to support,” the Toad confessed, tipping his hat over his eyes and sticking his thumbs into his waistcoat.
“I don’t believe a word of it,” said Penelope.
“Neither do I,” said Parrot. “A merchant banker, indeed. A Toad like you couldn’t add two and two together.”
“You don’t ’ave to, if you’re a banker,” the Toad assured him. “ ’Onest, you don’t ’ave to know mathematics and things. It’s just looking after people’s money for ’em and telling them they can’t ’ave it when they want it.”
“Rubbish,” said Parrot scornfully. “Unmitigated, unimaginative rubbish. Now, if you don’t tell us the truth, we’ll get Tabitha here to warm you up with a little flame or two, eh, Tabitha?”
“It will be a pleasure,” said Tabitha, letting twenty-four smoke rings and two long streams of flame escape from her nostrils.
“Ow! Now, 'ere, that’s not fair,” said the Toad, his eyes filling with tears. “You can’t torture a dumb animal, and me clo’s might get burnt and I ’aven’t finished paying for ’em yet.”
“That’s not our concern,” said Parrot. “Tell us the truth and we won’t harm you.”
“ ’Onest?” said the Toad hopefully. “Cross your ’eart and spit on your ’and and ’ope to die?”
“Yes,” Parrot answered him.
“Well,” said the Toad, taking a deep breath. “I’m a . . .”
“The truth now,” Parrot warned. “It’s your last chance.”
“Oh, all right," said the Toad. “Me name’s Ethelred and I’m a Toad of no fixed address.”
“And you’re a spy?” asked Peter.
“Yes. well, more of’alf a spy, like,” said Ethelred. “You see, it was all the fault of them Cockatrices. I was too small to sit on their eggs for ’em. I kept falling off and ’urting meself. Well, I said to the ’ead Cockatrice, like, I said, ‘Why not let me do wot I’m cut out for?’ ”
“Spying?” said Simon incredulously. “Why, you’re a terrible spy.”
“You got no call to insult me like that,” said Ethelred sulkily. “I would ’ave been a jolly good spy, but I didn’t finish the course.”
“What course?” asked Peter.
“Correspondence course in spying wot I was taking,” explained Ethelred. “I only got up as far as disguises and foreign accents when the Cockatrices said, ‘ ’Ere,’ they said, ‘you nip up to the Crystal Caves and see what H.H. is up to!’ they said, and they bundled me out so blooming fast I forgot me invisible ink.”
Penelope began to feel quite sorry for him.
“Well,” said Parrot, “it’s a good thing we caught you, because you can give us some useful information.”
“No,” said Ethelred, shaking his head. “No, I can’t tell you nuffink. Me lips is sealed, like.”
Tabitha breathed out two ribbons of flame.
“Well," said Ethelred hastily, “I could tell you a bit, maybe, the unimportant stuff.”
“where have they got the Great Books of Government?” asked H.H. “And are they safe?”
“Cor lummy, yes,” said Ethelred. “They’ve got them down in the dungeons under ’eavy guard. Ooh, they ain’t ’alf getting into a pickle with them there spells. Laugh? I nearly died. The tantrum the ’ead Cockatrice ’ad when they turned the two sentries into a tree and a bunch of moon-carrots. Us Toads were ’ysterical l can tell you.”
“And what about the Dragons’ eggs?” asked Parrot.
“Oh, they’re all right,” said Ethelred.
“They’re safe? In the castle? My precious eggs?” screeched Tabitha, and fainted.
“ ’Ere, wot’s she on about?” asked Ethelred. “ ’Course, they’re safe. Got ’em stacked up in the torture chamber, they ’ave, neat as neat.”
They all patted Tabitha’s paws until she came round, for, as H.H. wisely observed, there was no point in burning a feather under her nose, as one did in normal cases for the same thing.
“Now,” said Parrot to Ethelred. “What’s the best way into the Castle?”
“There is only one way in,” said H.H., “over the drawbridge and through the big gates.”
“That’s just where you’re all wrong, see?” said Ethelred triumphantly. “You lot think you know everything, don’t you? Well, you’re wrong, see?”
“Well, how else can you get in?” asked H.H.
“Ah,” said Ethelred cunningly. “You can’t get me to tell you. Ho, no, I’m not one of them turnabouts.”
“Turncoats,” said Peter.
“And I’m not one of those, neither,” said Ethelred.
“I don’t believe you,” said Penelope. “You’ve done nothing but tell lies since we caught you, and this is just another lie like telling us you were a brain surgeon. You deliberately lied about who you were and what you were, and now you’re lying about there being another way into Cockatrice Castle.”
“I’m not lying, miss, s’welp me,” said Ethelred. “I may have told you a fib or two about who I was, but this is ’onest, ’onest. You get into the Castle by the drains.”
“Bravo, Penny,” said Peter.
“Most sagacious,” said Parrot.
“Brilliant,” said H.H.
“ ’Ere,” protested Ethelred, suddenly realizing what he had done. “That wasn’t very fair, miss, was it, now?”
“Just as fair as you coming to spy on us,” said Penelope. “But that’s me perfession, master spy,” said Ethelred. “You ’ad no cause to make me give away a secret.”