Lords of the dustbin and messy back-yard,
A fig for the hearth-rug cat’s snooty regard!
With a miew and a miawk and a yowl!
And the last ‘yowl’ of the refrain of each verse was sung with a blood-curdling yell, that struck fear into the very whiskers of their enemies.
‘Fallowhithe animals?’ hissed Grisana. ‘My hand-picked warriors are a match for any common alley cats! Off with you, my brave Broomhurst Brigade, and fight them to the death!’
Without a sound, the swarming animals turned and streamed down the stairs and out into the moonlight, followed at a suitably safe distance by their Queen.
‘Are you hurt, Carbonel?’ cried Rosemary.
‘Not so badly that I cannot greet Calidor and my brave army, and lead them into battle!’ he said, as he limped down the stairs.
‘If only we could help!’ said Rosemary. John shook his head.
‘I know. I’d give anything to do something, but don’t forget what Carbonel said: “This must be my war. Cat against cat, and claw against claw.” We shall just have to watch what happens from the window here. You never know. There may be something we can still do.’
They were just in time to see the two armies join battle. They met with such force that they seemed to merge in one heaving, spitting mass.
‘However can they tell which cats are which?’ said Rosemary.
‘Easy. They smells different,’ explained Dumpsie shortly.
‘And now there’s such a blur of drifting fur that we can’t see anything properly,’ went on John.
When it cleared, the Alley Cats had disengaged, and were racing round and round the ring of Broomhurst animals who in turn encircled Tucket Towers. At a sudden word of command from Calidor, they charged once more. Over and over again they repeated this manoeuvre, with the Broomhurst cats growing more and more bemused as the attacking force raced round them faster and faster, giving no warning of where or when they would make their next assault. Gradually, one by one, the Broomhurst cats dropped out of the fight.
‘Look!’ whispered Rosemary suddenly. ‘Grisana has come inside again. What is she coming upstairs for?’
‘Melissa is following. Shut up and listen.’
‘Mama, where are you going?’ asked Melissa anxiously. ‘Surely you aren’t running away too?’
‘Running away? Never! But our army can’t hold out much longer. We shall be surrounded by our enemies and put to shame. There is only one chance, the Witch-Woman and the creature Gullion. So unfortunate that I have made it clear that I dislike toads, but perhaps they could be persuaded to do something to help by their magic arts ...’
She began to walk wearily towards the spiral staircase.
‘How on earth can we stop her?’ said John desperately, turning to Rosemary. But she was not there. ‘Rosie, where on earth are you?’
As he spoke she burst out of the bedroom behind him, staggering under the weight of the large silver bowl. Just as Grisana reached the bottom of the turret stairs, with all her force Rosemary flung the water over the hurrying cat.
For a moment the sodden animal stood looking up at her, water streaming from every hair and whisker; then with a screech, she turned and raced down the stairs, through the hall and out of the door, followed by Melissa.
John and Rosemary leapt down the stairs after them, two at a time, out into the moonlight, just as the ring of Broomhurst animals finally broke. Seeing their dripping queen streaking for home, with a forlorn wail, they streamed after her, followed by the mocking laughter of the Alley Cats.
‘Shall we go after them?’ asked Calidor.
‘No,’ said Carbonel. ‘Let them go. They fought well, and our quarrel is not with them, but their queen. She will give no more trouble after this.’
25. The Last Wish
THEY were standing on the top of the steps leading up to the front door, John, Rosemary and Carbonel, with Calidor and Dumpsie purring softly to one another on the step below. The victorious Alley Cats were licking their wounds and tidying their whiskers on the carriage sweep beneath them.
‘But how did you manage to escape being spotted by Grisana’s sentries?’ asked John.
‘We came through the railway tunnel, and then the cutting. Not till then did we burst out singing,’ said Calidor. ‘We sing almost as well as we fight!’
‘Well done, my faithful Army!’ said Carbonel. He looked down with pride on the sea of cats below. A hundred pairs of glowing eyes looked up at him as a wisp of cloud drifted across the moon. ‘Well, done, my son,’ went on Carbonel. ‘And my undying gratitude to John and Rosemary, without whose help I should never have been saved from Grisana’s wicked schemes. Give them the cheers that they deserve. Salute to John and Rosemary!’ he cried.
The assembled cats let out an ear-splitting ‘Mewrah! Mewrah! Mewrah!’
‘Thank you very much!’ said John. ‘But it’s Dumpsie who was really brave and clever.’
‘She limped all the way from Fallowhithe to Highdown with a wounded paw, to tell Calidor that Carbonel had disappeared.’
‘And she tricked the Scrabbles into chasing her instead of him,’ said John.
Carbonel turned to Dumpsie and bowed his head.
‘You are as wise and brave as you are beautiful!’ he said. ‘I was wrong to forbid your friendship with my son.’
‘Then I can marry Dumpsie with your consent?’ asked Calidor eagerly.
‘Certainly. With my warmest approval,’ said Carbonel.
‘What do you say to that, Dumpsie, my dear?’ said Calidor. ‘Will you marry me?’
‘What do I say?’ replied Dumpsie with shining eyes. ‘Why yes, with all my heart. Dumpsie of the Dump I may be for ordinary, but Wellingtonia for best. There never will be a bester day than this. From now on, always, I shall be Wellingtonia!’
Salute to Prince Calidor and Princess Wellingtonia!’ cried Carbonel. ‘Give them three times three!’
Once more the silence was shattered by the Alley Cats’ deafening ‘Mewrahs!’
‘And now,’ said Carbonel, ‘we must return to Fallowhithe, to tell Queen Blandamour the good news!’
‘But Carbonel, shan’t we see you again?’ said Rosemary, and her eyes filled with tears.
‘Most certainly you will, Rosemary. Queen Blandamour and I are growing old. I have decided, that when the time comes, and it is not far distant, for us to leave the throne of my fathers, and for Calidor and Wellingtonia to take our place, it will be to your hearth-rug we shall retire.’
‘Yes, but I say ...’ began John. But Rosemary burst out: ‘That would be simply gorgeous!’
‘Farewell!’ said Carbonel. ‘But not for very long.’
And so the procession set off for Fallowhithe: the Alley Cats in front, singing their Marching Song, then Carbonel, with head held high, and finally Calidor and Wellingtonia, side by side, their tails entwined at the tip, and their purring adding an undercurrent of sound to the Alley Cats’ singing, as the hum of the drone does to the music of the bag-pipes. John and Rosemary stood and watched them go. They did not move until the sound died away into silence. John gave a great sigh.
‘Well,’ he said. ‘I suppose that’s that! But isn’t it just like Carbonel to say he is coming to live in your house without even asking if you want him?’
‘But I do!’ said Rosemary. ‘Oh, I do!’
‘Will your mother mind?’
‘I’m sure she won’t when she sees him,’ replied Rosemary, and sensing that John was feeling rather left out of this arrangement, she went on: ‘I expect he chose my hearth-rug because it is in Fallowhithe, his own kingdom. So that he can still keep an eye on things.’
‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ said John more cheerfully. ‘And of course, I shall see them both, Carbonel and Blandamour, whenever I come to stay with you. Well, now I suppose we must go and let Mrs Witherspoon out,’ he went on uneasily.