Sir Thomas of Argyle, Bane of Mice (5)

From THE OFFICIAL TRAVELOGUE OF SIR THOMAS CAT, ESQUIRE

Translated from the Meowish.
Copyright May 1983


This story is dedicated to my husband's Aunt Eleanor Campbell Taylor and Uncle Rumsey Taylor, Sr., of Princeton, Kentucky, USA, in whose home the enchantment of Inveraray is alive and well on this side of the Atlantic. May the rest of us who come along after be able to carry on and never lose that enchantment forever.

[Part 5]

The Duke walked dutifully through the passageway to the castle office to deliver the banana bread to Chief Maynard, and meanwhile, to inquire about Thomas. Chief Maynard had only been indoors a few minutes from the early patrol of the grounds and assured the Duke that Thomas had been in none of his usual locations. Chief Maynard had sat down with a cup of tea brewed on the portable unit at his large desk and had started his daily crossword puzzle. Still, Thomas's absence puzzled him more than the word for which he had been searching when the Duke arrived, and both men began to be worried. Neither wanted to be responsible for losing Thomas while the Duchess was away.

The Duke decided to strap on his heavy snow boots which were waiting by the kitchen door and to look for Thomas himself. As he stepped outside the door, he saw the glistening white fur of Sir George as it rivaled the glistening snow. Sir George sat in his usual visiting spot, on the ledge of the semi-circular kitchen window. The last of  autumn's deep red roses climbing the window frame had been covered by snow during the night, and there were a few St. Kildae wrens, probably blown off course by the wind that brought the snow, singing on their morning pilgrimage to the upper library window where the Duchess usually left a tray of grain as the weather cooled. The Duke rubbed Sir George's ears and knew it was odd, too, that Sir George seemed to assume Sir Thomas to be inside the castle.