Once all the pearls had been collected and washed in one of the tubs set up in the makeshift kitchen at the end of the tents nearest to the Old Place, they were counted. There were twenty-six in all, each with a tiny hole drilled through the middle. They had obviously been originally strung together to form a necklace. Part of a little gold clasp was also discovered.
"These are mine," Prisca identified them once she saw the clasp. "I thought the pearls must be, of course, since no one else in this part of the Shire has a string to match mine, but see here-" She held the clasp up to catch a ray of sunlight. "Those are my initials and the others below are those of the gentleman who gave the pearls to me, and the date 1354." Having established her claim, she took a handkerchief from the bodice of her dress and, laying it flat on the table before her, began to gather her pearls upon it. "These will have to be restrung now. They had the same string for eighty years or more. I wonder if it was cut, or baked away?"
"It looks as if it baked away, Aunt Prisca," said Frodo. He'd been examining the plates the pie had been served upon and found fragments of string stuck to the crust at the bottom, stained a dark red and crisply browned at the ends with exposure to heat. He'd also made note of whom had found pearls in their pie and had spoken to the hobbits who were serving the tea. No one had asked him to do these things, but his curiosity had been roused and, as Hobbiton's famous detective and the hostess's nephew, he was in a good position to gratify his desire for information about this most peculiar incident. As far as he could tell, the pearls had all been in the last pie served; there had been a dozen in all, and two were still sitting uncut. "I'd say that the necklace went into this pie whole before it went into the oven."
"But who would do such a odd thing?" wondered Peony, and immediately began to look uncomfortable. Her brothers and their wives also seemed embarrassed.
"Could you have dropped them into the pie, Auntie?" Ponto suggested gently, and received a withering look from the elderly lady.
"Certainly not!" retorted Prisca. "I wasn't wearing my pearls today, and I never saw this pie before a piece of it was set before me."
"This pie didn't come from your house, Aunt Prisca?" Frodo asked her.
"No." She fixed him with a sharp eye, deciding that he was less of a fool than Ponto. "It's been a long time since I've been able to stand and work in my own kitchen, Frodo Baggins, and even when I did, I didn't do my baking in my best dress and pearls!"
"When did you miss your pearls, Auntie?" Frodo asked next.
"I never did," the old lady admitted. "If you'd asked me this morning, I would've said that they were safely locked up just as they've always been."
"When did you last have them out?"
"Weeks ago. Lina!" Prisca shouted for her attendant, who'd been observing the gathering, washing, and counting of the pearls with astonishment; she was not the only one, for many of the hobbits had left off their tea to come and watch these proceedings. "When did I last ask you to fetch down my jewelry box?"
"It was Yuletide, Miss Baggins, when Mrs. Whitfoot came to call." Lina bowed her head respectfully to indicate Angelica. Angelica was looking indignant, but she had been before her name had been mentioned.
"They might've gone any time since then," Prisca said to Frodo. "It's too much trouble for me to go home again--I came to enjoy a party, and I mean to stay until I've had my full amusement. Lina, take Frodo here to my house and show him the jewelry box." She folded up the handkerchief with the pearls and clasp inside and carefully tucked them back into her lace-covered bodice. "I don't go out much these days, but I hear what everyone says about you, Frodo-lad. Dora tells me about all your adventures." She glanced at her cousin. "'Missing jewels.' Well, mine have been found without your help, but I'd dearly love to discover how they came to be in such a peculiar place, and more important than that--who put them there?"
After telling Sam that he had an errand and wouldn't be gone long, Frodo accompanied Lina to Prisca's smial in the low, rolling hills between Hobbiton and Overhill. The old lady's home wasn't far from her nephews' and wasn't half as grand as the Old Place; Prisca had taken a home of her own after the death of her father and had remained there since, determined to go on living alone in spite of her increasing age and infirmity. Hiring a nurse to look after her was her only concession when she'd first become bedridden.
"Miss Prisca keeps her treasures here," Lina said as she reached up to take a wooden jewelry box similar to Dora's down from the top of the wardrobe in Prisca's bedroom.
"Is it locked?" asked Frodo.
"Yes, Mr. Baggins. Always. Miss Prisca keeps the key hidden under her pillow." Lina fetched this now and offered it to him.
Frodo unlocked the box. Inside were a number of the usual little velvet bags in which ladies stored their jewelry. He peeked into each of these to find trinkets of greater and lesser value, though even the finest pieces weren't half so valuable as the string of pearls. None of the bags were empty. As Frodo returned the box to Lina, he asked, "Are you sure this hasn't been opened since Yuletide, Miss- ah-?" Although he'd seen Lina once or twice before when he'd visited Prisca's home, he realized that he'd never heard her last name.
She gave it to him now, "Scarby, Mr. Baggins. Miss Prisca hasn't asked me to bring down her jewelry since then--that's all I know. But I'm not with her all the time when she has guests. She and Miss Dora sat a long while in the parlor one night last week before she called me in to help her to bed. I couldn't say what they talked about, nor if Miss Dora didn't come out to fetch the box in here. I was in my own room all the time."
"You're not suggesting my Aunt Dora…?"
"Oh no, Mr. Baggins. That's only an example. I might just as easily have said Mrs. Whitfoot, since she was here last night, or Mrs. Burrows, who comes to call regular. Lots of visitors might've done the same. Lots of folk would like to get their hands on those pearls of Miss Prisca's."
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