The three hobbits made their way along the overgrown path beneath the old trees. Although the trees were beginning to lose their leaves, enough remained to block the moonlight, and the light from the candles seemed strangely dimmed; they couldn't see what lay ahead.
The path sloped slightly downward and, at last, a silvery glow of light appeared at the far end. They emerged at the top of a stair made of broad stone slabs set into the northern slope of the hill. Frodo immediately saw why he had failed to see these from below; more trees and shrubs were planted below to block the view from the bottom of the hill. However, they had a spectacular view of Rushock Bog to the north, its rising mists glowing white.
The stair ended in a small flagstone terrace with enough room for perhaps ten or twelve hobbits to stand. A low stone platform was set at one end, to set the bier upon. A round oaken and brass-plated door was cut into the hillside behind it. As they approached, the door slowly swung open.
Thimula gulped. "You may've been right, Mr. Gamgee. This is no proper place for a lady." But she stayed where she was and did not turn to flee back up the stair.
"I'll go in," Sam declared.
"Alone?" asked Frodo.
"If you don't mind sitting to keep Miss Bracegirdle company out here. You shouldn't go in yourself, Frodo. It isn't fit for gentlefolk--them who aren't born for it."
Frodo might have pointed out that Merry and Pippin had accompanied Sam before, and they were among the highest-born hobbits in the land, but he refrained. He knew Sam had different rules of conduct where his protection was concerned.
"Now, I know just where he was laid out, and I expect he's still right where we put 'm," Sam went on. "I'll fetch the robes off around what's left o' him, and be back in a trice." With that, he slipped through the open door.
Thimula sank down onto the platform. "He's an extremely brave hobbit."
"The bravest I know," Frodo agreed as he sat beside her. "He's done even more brave things on my behalf."
"Mm, yes. You've said so before, but I haven't read that far in the tales of your adventures yet--only up to the part where you meet that strange Big Man in Bree who turns out to be the King." Thimula paused, then ventured, "Mr. Gamgee--your Sam--is devoted to you. I can see that."
Frodo made a hesitant sound of agreement, recognizing this as a prelude to more personal questions about his friendship with Sam. Thimula surely must have guessed at the truth already, or perhaps Angelica had told her something about it.
Before the conversation could go any further, they both heard a startled, choked-off cry from within the Sackville family vault. Frodo was instantly on his feet. "Sam!" He rushed to the open door just as Sam emerged, dragging a mass of dirty white cloth after him. It might be the flickering candlelight on his face, but Frodo thought his friend had a sickened expression. "Are you all right?"
"'M fine," Sam answered, and shut the vault door. "I got the robes." Then he leaned closer to Frodo's ear and murmured. "Don't tell her--he wasn't where we left 'm. I tripped over him, that's all."
Frodo was horrified, but there wasn't time to ask Sam for more information; Thimula had also left her seat and was approaching them. Composing himself before he turned to her, he said, "We have what we came for. Let's stir up the embers of your bonfire, and see if we can be rid of the ghost."
As they went back up the stair and along the dark path under the trees, they thought they heard the sound of boot-heels clicking on the paving stones behind, but they didn't look back to see if they were being followed. Sam raked up the remains of the bonfire Thimula had built and fed it a few twigs to nurse it into a small blaze. When the fire was lively enough, he touched one corner of the robes to it. The cloth caught immediately and flame swiftly traveled along the length of the garment. For a few minutes, the flames rose high--they must surely be seen in Sackville.
Frodo looked up from the fire to see a dark figure in the shadows by the house. It was there only for a moment, but as the flames began to dwindle and the last shreds of Saruman's robes were consumed, it faded away. He hoped that it wouldn't be back ever again, and Thimula would have her home.
When the fire had completely died down, Thimula said, "Well, that's that," bade Frodo and Sam goodnight, thanked them for a most interesting adventure, and got up to leave. Frodo meant to accompany her, but had something he had to ask Sam first. He waited until she had walked some distance away across the overgrown garden toward the front gate, then scooted closer to Sam, who was still seated on the grass.
"What did you mean, 'He wasn't where we left him'?" he murmured.
"Just that," Sam answered in an undertone. "He was a-lying on the floor 'tween the shelf where we put 'm and the door."
"Someone had been in there before us, and moved the body? Not…" Frodo shuddered, "not the rats?"
Sam shook his head. "Maybe he rolled off, accidental-like, but it seems to me he mightn't've been quite dead when we put 'm there."
"Oh, Sam, no..."
"He had those wizard's robes all tangled 'round him," Sam went on quickly. "I had to give a quick tug and shake all the loose bones out of 'em before you and Miss Bracegirdle came in after me. There're all scattered about. Whyn't you go see her back to the farm?" he suggested. "I'll go down to that vault after you're gone and put the bones back on the shelf, all laid out proper this time. Maybe then he'll rest quiet and not trouble her again."
Site Info
We are the home of 1292 authors from among our 2552 members. There have been 2904 reviews written about our 3820 stories consisting of 10734 chapters and 29400445 words. A special welcome to our newest member, Rosamundeb.Categories
Skin Change
Donate
Help us keep one of the oldest running LotR archives available to all. Even the smallest donation helps!
Many thanks to our previous donors!
Many thanks to our previous donors!
