The Rat turned from him in despair. “You see what it is?” he said to the Mole, addressing him across Toad’s head: “He’s quite hopeless. I give it up⁠—when we get to the town we’ll go to the railway station, and with luck we may pick up a train there that’ll get us back to river bank tonight. And if ever you catch me going a-pleasuring with this provoking animal again!”⁠—He snorted, and during the rest of that weary trudge addressed his remarks exclusively to Mole.

On reaching the town they went straight to the station and deposited Toad in the second-class waiting-room, giving a porter twopence to keep a strict eye on him. They then left the horse at an inn stable, and gave what directions they could about the cart and its contents. Eventually, a slow train having landed them at a station not very far from Toad Hall, they escorted the spellbound, sleepwalking Toad to his door, put him inside it, and instructed his housekeeper to feed him, undress him, and put him to bed. Then they got out their boat from the boathouse, sculled down the river home, and at a very late hour sat down to supper in their own cosy riverside parlour, to the Rat’s great joy and contentment.