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 Peter.

Benjamin, who was all of atwitter, pulled Peter off the windowsill.

Tommy Brock’s snores continued, grunty and regular from Mr. Tod’s bed.  Nothing could be seen of the young family.

The sun had set; an owl began to hoot in the wood.  There were many unpleasant things lying about that had much better have been buried; rabbit bones and skulls, and chickens’ legs and other horrors.  It was a shocking place, and very dark.

They went back to the front of the house, and tried in every way to move the bolt of the kitchen window.  They tried to push up a rusty nail between the window sashes; but it was of no use, especially without a light.

They sat side by side outside the window, whispering and listening.

In half an hour the moon rose over the wood.  It shone full and clear and cold, upon the house, amongst the rocks, and in at the kitchen window.  But alas, no little rabbit babies were to be seen!  The moonbeams twinkled on the carving knife and the pie dish, and made a path of brightness across the dirty floor.

The light showed a little door in a wall beside the kitchen fireplace —­a little iron door belonging to a brick oven of that old-fashioned sort that used to be heated with faggots of wood.

And presently at the same moment Peter and Benjamin noticed that whenever they shook the window the little door opposite shook in answer.  The young family were alive; shut up in the oven!

Benjamin was so excited that it was a mercy he did not awake Tommy Brock, whose snores continued solemnly in Mr. Tod’s bed.

But there really was not very much comfort in the discovery.  They could not open the window; and although the young family was alive the little rabbits were quite incapable of letting themselves out; they were not old enough to crawl.

After much whispering, Peter and Benjamin decided to dig a tunnel.  They began to burrow a yard or two lower down the bank.  They hoped that they might be able to work between the large stones under the house; the kitchen floor was so dirty that it was impossible to say whether it was made of earth or flags.

They dug and dug for hours.  They could not tunnel straight on account of stones; but by the end of the night they were under the kitchen floor.  Benjamin was on his back scratching upwards.  Peter’s claws were worn down; he was outside the tunnel, shuffling sand away.  He called out that it was morning—­sunrise; and that the jays were making a noise down below in the woods.

Benjamin Bunny came out of the dark tunnel shaking the sand from his ears; he cleaned his face with his paws.  Every minute the sun shone warmer on the top of the hill.  In the valley there was a sea of white mist, with golden tops of trees showing through.