The vault where Mrs. Scuttle was to be placed the next morning hadn't belonged to the Scuttle family, nor to the Goodchilds; both of Edda Scuttle's husbands had come from places far from Gamwich. Her own now-extinct family, the Quinces, had once been prosperous in the neighborhood. It was in their family tomb not far up the lane from Mrs. Scuttle's home in the chalky downs that Mr. Goodchild and Mr. Scuttle had been placed in turn. Mrs. Scuttle was now about to join them.
Few mourners attended the service, only Mrs. Scuttle's neighbors, her servants, and some of the other local, prominent hobbits. Sam met Ramson Leekey for the first time on the doorstep of the Scuttle smial, when his great-aunt's man-of-business arrived with four sturdy youths who had been hired to bear the bier. Like Mr. Leekey, the foursome was dressed in black broadcloth, but this somber costume seemed more natural on him. Sam was surprised, however, to see that Leekey wasn't much older than he was, in his middle to late forties. The curls atop his head were combed fiercely down, then sprang out on the sides behind his ears. His nose seemed as pointed as his ears and he peered at Sam with near-sighted geniality when Lula introduced them. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Mr. Gamgee," he declared, "even under such sad circumstances. Mrs. Scuttle spoke so often of you, as her nephew who showed some promise."
Sam didn't quite know what to make of this remark, and Mr. Leekey did not elaborate. The funeral procession was about to begin.
Mrs. Scuttle was carried from the parlor of her home to the tomb beyond the outskirts of the town, where many Gamwich families had placed their dead for generations. Sam walked immediately behind the bier with his aunt, his eldest brother Hamson and Ham's wife Maisie, who had come over from Tighfield. Uncle Andy hadn't come with them.
Lula made the first farewell speech over the covered body once it had been set down before the closed tomb door. She didn't speak of the reasons behind her long estrangement from her aunt, but fondly recalled the days of her youth when the Goodchilds had made a home for her and her sister after their parents had died. After so generous a speech, Sam felt he must do at least as much. Though he had not known his great-aunt well or for long, he spoke as well of her as he could and praised the beautiful gardens around her home.
After the last farewells had been made, Mr. Leekey unlocked the door to the tomb and pulled it open. Everyone present gasped aloud at the stench that came from within.
"It smells like somebody's dead in there," said Maisie.
"There must be lots o' dead folk in there," said Sam.
"But none so- well- fresh, Mr. Gamgee, if that's the word," one of the mourners pointed out. "The last hobbit to be laid to rest here was Mr. Scuttle, seven years past. Before that was Mr. Goodchild."
"That was more'n twenty years ago," said Lula. "It was the last time I set foot in Gamwich."
"They'd be naught but bones now, and wouldn't make such a smell," Leekey concluded.
Sam had to agree. Waving the bier-bearers aside, he went into the vault. Rows of shelves had been dug into the walls on either side of the door, three atop each other and receding into the darkness at the depths of the tomb. Skeletal bodies lay peacefully in most of these recesses, bones showing white through the remains of clothing and burial coverings. But on one shelf not far from the door lay a body that was not covered nor skeletal. By the clothing, it appeared to be female and, as Mr. Leekey had observed, was "fresh." Sam didn't think it could have been there for much more than a week.
"Mr. Gamgee?" Mr. Leekey was at the vault door.
"You're right," Sam told him. "There's somebody in here as oughtn't to be. It looks to be a woman. Can you come in and have a look? Tell me if you know who she is."
Handkerchief pressed tightly over his mouth, Leekey ventured into the vault until he stood at Sam's side and could see the woman's face. He gulped hard, and quickly shook his head.
Other hobbits were crowding close around the open door, eager to peek in and have a look as well. From their murmurs, Sam gathered that none of them recognized the woman, but he asked to be certain. No one came forward to identify the body.
"Send somebody to fetch Dondo Punbry," Sam said to Leekey as he tried to shepherd the funeral party back out into the fresh air. Dondo was the local shirriff; as Chief Shirriff for Bywater, Sam had some authority over him. "Then I want you to lock this door again and see that everything's left as is it." What better place to keep a dead body?
"What about Mrs. Scuttle?"
Sam appreciated the problem; they couldn't leave the old lady's body lying outdoors. "Well, the bearers can bring her in and put her on that bit o' shelf over there." He chose one on the opposite side of the vault from the unknown corpse. "But mind nobody goes near that other one." Frodo would want to see everything just as it was.
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