The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents

A voice from out of the darkness said, “Are there any wizards in there?”

The occupants looked at one another in puzzlement.

“No?” said the kid, the kind of “no” that means “why are you asking?”

“How about any witches?” said the voice.

“No, no witches,” said the kid.

“Right. Are there any heavily-armed trolls employed by the mail-coach company in there?”

“I doubt it,” said Maurice.

There was a moment's pause, filled with the sound of the rain.

“OK, how about werewolves?” said the voice eventually.

“What do they look like?” asked the kid.

“Ah, well, they look perfectly normal right up to the point where they grow all, like, hair and teeth and giant paws and leap through the window at you,” said the voice. The speaker sounded as though he was working through a list.

“We've all got hair and teeth,” said the kid.

“So you are werewolves, then?”

“No.”

“Fine, fine.” There was another pause filled with rain. “OK, vampires,” said the voice. “It's a wet night, you wouldn't want to be flying in weather like this. Any vampires in there?”

“No!” said the kid. “We're all perfectly harmless!”

“Oh boy,” muttered Maurice, and crawled under the seat.

“That's a relief,” said the voice. “You can't be too careful these days. There's a lot of funny people about.” A crossbow was pushed through the window, and the voice said, “Your money and your life. It's a two-for-one deal, see?”

“The money's in the case on the roof,” said Maurice's voice, from floor level.

The highwayman looked around the dark interior of the coach. “Who said that?” he asked.

“Er, me,” said the boy.

“I didn't see your lips move, kid!”

“The money is on the roof. In the case. But if I was you I wouldn't—”

“Hah, I just 'spect you wouldn't,” said the highwayman. His masked face disappeared from the window.

The boy picked up the pipe that was lying on the seat beside him. It was the type still known as a penny whistle, although no-one could remember when they'd ever cost only a penny.

“Play ‘Robbery with Violence’, kid,” said Maurice, quietly.

“Couldn't we just give him money?” said the voice of Peaches. It was a little voice.

“Money is for people to give us,” said Maurice, sternly.

Above them, they heard the scrape of the case on the roof of the coach as the highwayman dragged it down.

The boy obediently picked up the flute and played a few notes. Now there were a number of sounds. There was a creak, a thud, a sort of scuffling noise and then a very short scream.

When there was silence, Maurice climbed back onto the seat and poked his head out of the coach, into the dark and rainy night. “Good man,” he said. “Sensible. The more you struggle, the harder they bite. Prob'ly not broken skin yet? Good. Come forward a bit so I can see you. But carefully, eh? We don't want anyone to panic, do we?”

The highwayman reappeared in the light of the coach lamps. He was walking very slowly and carefully, his legs spread wide apart. And he was quietly whimpering.

“Ah, there you are,” said Maurice, cheerfully. “Went straight up your trouser legs, did they? Typical rat trick. Just nod, 'cos we don't want to set 'em off. No tellin' where it might end.”

The highwayman nodded very slowly. Then his eyes narrowed. “You're a cat?” he mumbled. Then his eyes crossed and he gasped.

“Did I say talk?” said Maurice. “I don't think I said talk, did I? Did the coachman run away or did you kill him?” The man's face went blank. “Ah, quick learner, I like that in a highwayman,” said Maurice. “You can answer that question.”

“Ran away,” said the highwayman hoarsely.

Maurice stuck his head back inside the coach. “Whadja think?” he said. “Coach, four horses, probably some valuables in the mail-bags… could be, oh, a thousand dollars or more. The kid could drive it. Worth a try?”

“That's stealing, Maurice,” said Peaches. She was sitting on the seat beside the kid. She was a rat.

“Not stealing as such,” said Maurice. “More… findin'. The driver's run away, so it's like… salvage. Hey, that's right, we could turn it in for the reward. That's much better. Legal, too. Shall we?”

“People would ask too many questions,” said Peaches.

“If we just leave it, someone yawlp will steal it,” wailed Maurice. “Some thief will take it away! Much better if we take it, eh? We're not thieves.”

“We will leave it, Maurice,” said Peaches.

“In that case, let's steal the highwayman's horse,” said Maurice, as if the night wouldn't be properly finished unless they stole something. “Stealing from a thief isn't stealing, 'cos it cancels out.”

“We can't stay here all night,” said the kid to Peaches. “He's got a point.”

“That's right!” said the highwayman urgently. “You can't stay here all night!”

“That's right,” said a chorus of voices from his trousers, “we can't stay here all night!”