Chapter 34 Doctor Dolittle's Zoo by Hugh Lofting
THE WILD RIDE OF THE WHITE MOUSE
It had been agreed that only Matthew should accompany the Doctor to the top floor. I was to remain downstairs in the hall; and Bumpo was to stay outside the house. His and my parts in the plot were mostly those of watching and standing on guard. In case of emergency we had signals arranged and were to assemble at a certain point.
As the Doctor very, very quietly opened the front door with the latch key I got my first real scare of the evening. With uncanny suddenness, both together, the two great ferocious heads of the watch-dogs popped out to greet him.
Within the hall where the darkness was quite intense, I confess that I was quite glad that my duties carried me no further. As we had arranged, I sat down on the floor by the front door and began my watch. Jip, thank goodness! stayed with me. Matthew and the Doctor, each with a hand on the collar of one of the guiding watch-dogs, were led away swiftly and silently through the inky blackness, up the carpeted stairs, to the rooms above.
It seemed a perfect eternity that they were gone. Before the evening was over I decided that I didn't care for the profession of burglary a bit. It was a little too thrilling. Every time the breeze rattled a window or swung a curtain whispering across the floor, I was certain that we had been discovered and some one was coming after us with a pistol or a club. It was a great temptation to open the front door and let in the little light of the starry sky without. But I had been told to keep it closed lest the draft be detected by any of the household.
At last Jip whispered:
“Don't get scared now if some one bumps into you. They're coming down the stairs again. I can smell 'em.”
A moment later the wet muzzle of Dina, leading the Doctor across the hall, dabbed me in the ear. It was a good thing Jip had warned me—I would probably have started hitting out in all directions if he hadn't. I rose and carefully swung open the front door. The dim forms of the Doctor and Matthew passed out. I followed. With a pat of thanks John Dolittle turned and shut the two dogs in behind us, letting the tongue of the night-latch gently into its socket with the key. Then he took the rat from his pocket, gave him the key and set him on the ground. From somewhere out of the general gloom of the garden Bumpo's huge figure emerged and joined us.
Once more under Jip's guidance we began the journey across the park towards the walls. I was simply burning up to ask the Doctor if he had succeeded, but I managed to restrain my curiosity till we stood again beneath the ash tree. Then at last I felt it was safe to whisper:
“Did you get it?”
“Yes,” he said. “It's in my pocket. Everything went all right. We were able to open the cupboard and close it again too, leaving it so no one would know we were there. But of course I haven't had a chance to read the will yet. Come along now, where's that rope?”
Again, one by one, we swarmed to the top of the wall, transferred the dangling rope to the other side and slid quietly down into the roadway.
With a general sigh we set off towards home. As we passed the gate we noticed the gray of the dawn showing in the East. Like silent ghosts Kling and Jip slipped out through the bars and dropped in behind the procession.
On reaching the house we all hurried to the study. I got some candles lighted while the Doctor spread the will out on the table. It was a tense moment for all of us as we leant over his shoulder.
Sure enough, a piece had been bitten out of the document at the corner. And when I added the fragment I had in my pocket it fitted perfectly. Then, without going through the preliminary preamble of the document, the Doctor traced that paragraph with his finger. This is what he read out: “I bequeath the sum of One Hundred Thousand Pounds for the endowment of an Association for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. The Trustees will select——”
But he was not permitted to get any further. Matthew, Bumpo and I suddenly started cheering and dancing round the table. And it was quite some minutes before our enthusiasm had let off enough steam to allow us to listen to any more.
As we settled down into our chairs again I noticed the Doctor staring fixedly at something Matthew was turning over in his fingers. I started as I saw what it was—one of the diamond shirt-studs from Sidney Throgmorton's little leather box.
“Er—where—did you get that, Matthew?” asked the Doctor in a low, somewhat fearful, voice.
“Oh, this?” said the Cats'-meat-Man, trying hard not to look guilty. “This is a little souvenir I brought along from the Manor.”
For a moment the Doctor seemed too horrified to speak.
“Well,” Matthew went on, “it wasn't his, you know, after all, with him robbin' the animals of that whole fortune what was coming to them accordin' to the will.”
“But when, how, did you take it, Matthew?” asked the Doctor. “I thought you were with me all the time.”
“Oh, I just dropped into his bedroom to take a look around, as we passed his door going up the stairs,” said Matthew. “These pretty playthings was in a box on the dressin' table, and I couldn't resist the temptation of bringin' one along as a souvenir.”
With his hand to his head the Doctor sank into a chair as if stunned.
“Oh, Matthew, Matthew!” he murmured. “I thought you had promised me to give up that—that sort of thing for good.”
For a moment we were all silent. Finally the Doctor said:
“Well, I don't know what we are to do now, really I don't.”
The white mouse crawled up my sleeve from the table and whispered in my ear:
“What's the matter with the Doctor? What has happened?”
I explained to him as quickly and as briefly as I could.
“Give me that stud, Doctor,” said he, suddenly darting across the table to John Dolittle. “I'll get it back into its box before you can say Jack Robinson.”
“Goodness! Do you think you could?” cried the Doctor, immediately all cheered up. “Oh, but look: the daylight is here now. The disappearance of the diamond is most likely already discovered. And think of the time it would take you to travel there—at your pace!”
“Doctor, it wouldn't take long if he rode on my back,” Jip put in. “If I carry him as far as the house he can soon pop in through a hole and slip upstairs. It's worth trying.”
“All right,” said the Doctor. “Any port in a storm.”
And to Matthew's great disappointment he leant across the table, took the valuable jewel out of his hands and gave it to the white mouse.
“You'll save us from a terrible mess,” he said, “if you can get it there in time. Good luck to you!”
The white mouse took the stud in his paws, jumped on to Jip's back and disappeared through the garden window at a gallop.
After he had gone there was an embarrassed, uncomfortable pause. Finally the Doctor said,
“Er—Stubbins and Bumpo: you will not of course—supposing that this matter ends satisfactorily—mention it, ever, to a living soul.”
Ill at ease, but very much in earnest, we nodded our promise of silence.
“As for you, Matthew,” the Doctor went on, “I must warn you now, once and for all, that if any other occurrence of er—this sort takes place we shall have to sever relations permanently. I know I can trust you where my own property is concerned, but I must feel secure that you will regard the property of others in the same way. If not, we can have nothing further to do with one another. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand, Doctor,” said Matthew in a low voice. “I ought to have known I might be putting you in an awkward situation. But—well, no more need be said.”
The Doctor turned as though to go into the garden. He looked about him for his hat. And suddenly a look of horror came slowly into his face.
“Stubbins!” he gasped. “Where is it?”
“Don't tell me,” I cried, “that you left it again—in the Manor!“