'
'Surely the brave Mr. Toad wouldn't mind coming here by himself, would
he?' inquired the Mole.
'Old Toad?' said the Rat, laughing heartily. 'He wouldn't show his
face here alone, not for a whole hatful of golden guineas, Toad
wouldn't.'
The Mole was greatly cheered by the sound of the Rat's careless
laughter, as well as by the sight of his stick and his gleaming
pistols, and he stopped shivering and began to feel bolder and more
himself again.
'Now then,' said the Rat presently, 'we really must pull ourselves
together and make a start for home while there's still a little light
left. It will never do to spend the night here, you understand. Too
cold, for one thing.'
'Dear Ratty,' said the poor Mole, 'I'm dreadfully sorry, but I'm
simply dead beat and that's a solid fact. You MUST let me rest here a
while longer, and get my strength back, if I'm to get home at all.'
'O, all right,' said the good-natured Rat, 'rest away. It's pretty
nearly pitch dark now, anyhow; and there ought to be a bit of a moon
later.'
So the Mole got well into the dry leaves and stretched himself out,
and presently dropped off into sleep, though of a broken and troubled
sort; while the Rat covered himself up, too, as best he might, for
warmth, and lay patiently waiting, with a pistol in his paw.
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