No person was to be seen, and no young rabbits. The kitchen was
empty and silent; the clock had run down. Peter and Benjamin flattened their noses against the window, and stared into the dusk.
Then they scrambled round the rocks to the other side of the house. It was damp and smelly, and overgrown with thorns and briars.
The rabbits shivered in their shoes.
"Oh my poor rabbit babies! What a dreadful place; I shall never see
them again!" sighed Benjamin.
They crept up to the bedroom window. It was closed and bolted like
the kitchen. But there were signs that this window had been
recently open; the cobwebs were disturbed, and there were fresh
dirty footmarks upon the window-sill.
The room inside was so dark, that at first they could make out
nothing; but they could hear a noise—a slow deep regular snoring
grunt. And as their eyes became accustomed to the darkness, they
perceived that somebody was asleep on Mr. Tod's bed, curled up
under the blanket.—"He has gone to bed in his boots," whispered