Frodo went up to the citadel the next day to warn Faramir. But he when he told Faramir about the book he'd been reading and relayed his fears, the young steward was just as unconcerned as he'd been when he'd first heard Frodo's tale of seeing the ghost.
"Aren't you alarmed?" Frodo asked him, surprised. "From what I've read, the ghost is said to presage some tragic event. You must have known that already. Don't you believe it's true?"
Faramir shook his head. "I've never believed it. Even when Boromir and I were children and dared each other to walk down that part of the street at night, it was only a game we played to frighten ourselves."
"And when your mother died?" Frodo ventured delicately. "The ghost was last seen then, by her own brother."
"Yes, I recall it. Father said it was all nonsense. He doubted that Uncle Ibritalant had seen the ghost at all, and quashed tales that it had anything to do with Mother's death as superstitious prattle whenever he heard them. My mother was ill for a long time before that summer, Frodo. I fear she was destined to die young. No ghost was seen at the death of my grandfather, nor at Father's death nor Boromir's. I believe that people see what they wish to see."
"You mean, the ghost is only in our imaginations?" Frodo asked. "Do you believe that I saw it?"
"I believe you did, and others have too. The body that was found in the tunnels is proof of that. I mean that whenever the ghost appears, people look for a tragedy to follow. When none occurs, they forget that sighting. But when one occurs, much is made of it! The scribes of old made note of the sightings that preceded such events, and overlooked the ones that foretold nothing." Faramir gave the not-entirely reassured hobbit a smile. "I also feel certain that the ghost has appeared to you for reasons other than to predict doom, Frodo. According to our Queen, you have a strong sympathy with the restless spirit of this murdered Elf. I know of no one who's dreamt of him, as you have. If he does carry a curse for my family or the King's, then you'll be the one to lay it to rest."
Frodo thought Faramir was joking, since the steward didn't believe there was any danger to begin with, but perhaps this was just what he could do, once he'd discovered who killed the Elf. The association of the two ideas had already led his suspicions along unpleasant lines.
"But enough of this," said Faramir. "I'm glad you came today, Frodo. I wanted to see you. If you can tear yourself away from your studies in the library, would you like to take another walk in the tunnels? The workmen have cleared the rest of that passage below the stair where the Elf's body was found, and think they've located the door at the other end. There is a trick to open it. I was going to go and see if I could do it myself. Will you come with me?"
Frodo agreed eagerly. Faramir took a torch, and they went down through the stairwell in the westward tower of the great hall, into the tunnel beneath the building.
"Do you know when that tunnel was bricked up?" Frodo asked as they went down the long central passage. "I've asked your librarian Ullathor to see if he can find an answer, but he hasn't been able to yet."
"I don't know. There used to be a door, which was kept locked, at this end of the passageway. Look there--you can see where the hinges were removed." As they reached the intersection with the narrower tunnel, Faramir moved the torch closer to one wall to pick out rust-stained gouges where ironmongery had been pulled out of the stone. "In the days when this secret passage was used, only the King and Steward had keys to the door, but other members of their households could be granted permission go this way."
"You seem to know quite a lot about it," observed Frodo.
"I'd never seen it before we first came down here last week, but I've heard the old tales of it all my life. There are stories of it that have endured in the citadel for hundreds of years, long after anyone could tell where the tunnel used to be. My brother and I were forbidden to come down here when we were boys--but we would go in to explore just the same. We used to search for the secret way, but of course we never found it. We didn't know where to look, and this place was filled with an Age's worth of rubbish."
They were now at the stairway where the body had been found. The rubble on the landing had been cleared away. "Have a care, Frodo," Faramir warned him as the hobbit stepped forward to peer into the gap where the body had lain. "The foreman of the crew at work here tells me that they've found the remains of an older, steeper stair beside this one, worn to ruins and not safe. He thinks that the brick wall set here was meant to shut that older stair off. It's my guess that our murderer took advantage of this repair, and the body of the murdered Elf was cast inside while the wall was freshly built--it would only be a matter of taking aside a few bricks, or else finishing a job that had been left half-done. There are also signs below that there were once plans to cut a door at the foot of the old stair."
"It would have opened directly across from our house, wouldn't it?" asked Frodo.
"Yes, and that makes a certain sense, if they meant for Stewards of old to visit the King. It would've been more convenient in later years. Unfortunately, the work was abandoned before the rock was pierced." They went down the long stairway into darkness, Faramir keeping Frodo close to him in the torchlight, although the hobbit's feet were perfectly sure and steady.
"Gandalf's house, the house we live in," Frodo said. "Who owns it? Is it yours, Faramir?"
"It was the traditional home of the Stewards of Gondor before the Ruling Days. I thought you knew that, Frodo."
"I guessed it might be so." No one had said so distinctly, but the fact was alluded to often in the historical accounts he'd read and in conversations, just as Faramir had done a moment ago. Perhaps no one who lived in Minas Tirith, past or present, had thought it necessary to say something so obvious aloud. "I've seen it called the House of Hurin."
"It has been called so," Faramir confirmed. "That is also the name of our family line, who have been stewards since Hurin's day. I've never lived in that house, nor did my father, nor any steward since the days of the last king before Elessar's coming."
"But it's been inhabited since then. Someone lived there not too long before us." Frodo remembered when he and the other members of the fellowship had first come to the house, they had found it ready to be occupied, with rooms full of furnishings, as well as plates and kitchen-ware, books, bed-linens and towels.
"It is sometimes given to guests who abide in Minas Tirith for a time, as Mithrandir does."
"And Prince Ibritalant?" asked Frodo, remembering that the Prince had been staying there when he'd seen the ghost.
"Uncle Ibritalant did not like my father--he blamed him for my mother's decline--and he always took residence outside the citadel when he came to visit. I thought that Eowyn and I would take it as our home, but the King and Queen would have us remain in the great hall and share the royal apartments with them."
"I suppose they're glad of the company," Frodo said. And, since there were many spacious chambers on the upper floors of the great hall, both couples had plenty of room to live comfortably and bring up children.
At the bottom of the stair was a straight and narrow tunnel that ran next to the supporting outer wall. Faramir led the way until the tunnel turned at a right angle to the left; here, the natural rock ended, and they faced a dead end against a Man-made wall of stones.
"It must be here," Faramir said, and gave the torch to Frodo. Reaching up over his head to place both hands on the wall, he pressed on a series of smaller stones set above a large slab of rock. "The trick is to press two of these at once, but the old stories don't say which ones. If I can't find it out, we'll have to go back the way we came."
At last, Faramir found the right ones. With a rasping groan of stone moving against stone, the slab swung back to reveal daylight. They stepped out through the open door into the archway beneath the guards' watch-station--just where Frodo had anticipated, and just where the Elf had been headed in his last dream.
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