returnoftheshadow72

by Miguel

  'I didn't like the sound or the looks of him, and I answered him short, "I haven't seen any such party," I said, "and I'm not likely to, either. What may you be wanting with them, or with me?'

  'At that he sent out a breath that set me shivering. "We want news of them. We are seeking Baggins," he said, hissing out the name like a snake. "Baggins is with them. If he comes, you will tell us, and we will repay you with gold. If you do not tell us, we will repay you - otherwise."

  '"Baggins!" said I. "He ain't with them. If you are looking for a hobbit of that name, he went off east this morning with Gandalf." 'At that name he drew in his breath and sat up. Then he stooped at me again. "Is that truth?" he said, very hard and quiet. "Do not lie to us!"

  'I was all of a twitter, I can tell you, but I answered up as bold as I could: "Of course it's the truth! I know Gandalf, and he and his friend were here last night, I tell you." At that the four of them turned their horses and rode off into the darkness without another word.

  'Now, Mr Hill, what do you make of all that? I hope I've done right. If it hadn't been for Gandalf's orders, I'd never have given them news of Baggins, nor of anyone else. For these Black Men mean no good to anyone, I'll be bound.'

  'You've done quite right, as far as I can see,' said Frodo. 'From what I know of Gandalf, it is usually best to do what he asks.' 'Yes,' said the landlord, 'but I am puzzled all the same. How came these Black Men to think Baggins was one of your party? And I must say, from what I've heard and seen tonight, I wonder if maybe they aren't right. But Baggins or no, you are welcome to any help I can give to a friend of old Tom, and of Gandalf.'

  'I'm very grateful,' said Frodo. 'I am sorry I can't tell you the whole story, Mr Butterbur. I am very tired, and very worried. But if you want to know, I am Frodo Baggins. I have no idea what Gandalf meant by saying that Baggins had gone east with him; for I think the hobbit's name was Bolger. But these - er - Black Riders are hunting us, and we are in danger. I am very grateful for your help; but I hope you won't get into any trouble yourself on our account. I hope these abominable Riders won't come here again.' 'I hope not indeed! ' said Butterbur with a shiver.

  'If they do, you must not risk their anger for my sake. They are dangerous. Once we have got clear away, you can do us little harm, if you tell them that a party of four hobbits has passed through Bree. Good night, Mr Butterbur! Thank you again for your kindness. One day perhaps Gandalf will tell you what it is all about.'

  'Good night, Mr Baggins - Mr Hill, I should say! Good night, Mr Took! Bless me! Where's Mr Brandybuck?'

  'I don't know,' said Folco; 'but I expect he's outside. He said something about going out for a breath of air. He ought to be in before long.'

  'Very good!' said Mr Butterbur. 'I'll see that he is not locked out. Good night to you all! ' With a puzzled look at Trotter, and a shake of his head, he went out and his footsteps died away in the passage.

  'There you go again!' said Trotter before Frodo could speak. 'Too trusting still! Why tell old Barnabas all that about being hunted; and why tell him the other hobbit was a Bolger?'

  'Isn't he safe?' asked Frodo. 'Tom Bombadil said he was, and Gandalf seems to have trusted him.'

  'Is he safe?' cried Trotter, throwing up his hands. 'Yes, he's safe, safer than houses. But why give him any more to puzzle about than is necessary? And why interfere with Gandalf's plan? You're not very quick, or it would have been plain at once to you that Gandalf wanted it believed that the hobbit with him was Baggins - precisely so that you would have a better chance, if you were still behind. And what about me? Am I safe? You're not sure (I know that), and yet you talk to Butterbur in front of me! However, I know now all that he had to say; and at least it will cut short what I still had to tell you - which was mostly about those Black Riders, as you call them. I saw them myself. I should say that seven all told have passed through Bree since Monday. You won't pretend any longer that you can't imagine what interest your real name might have. There is a reward offered for anyone who can report that four hobbits are here, and that one of them is probably a Baggins after all.'

  'Yes, yes,' said Frodo. 'I see all that. But I knew already that They were after me; and so far at any rate they seem to have been sent off on a false scent.'

  'I should not be too sure that they have all gone right away,' said Trotter; 'or that they are all ahead of you, and chasing after Gandalf. They are cunning, and they divide their forces. I can still tell you a few things you have not heard from Butterbur. I first saw a Rider on Monday night, east of Bree as I was coming in out of the wilds. I nearly ran into him, going fast along the Road in the dark. I hailed him with a curse, for he had almost run over me; and he pulled up and came back. I stood still and made no sound, but he brought his horse step by step towards me. When he was quite close he stooped and sniffed. Then he hissed, and turned his horse and rode off.(8) Yesterday I saw the four that called at this inn. Last night I was on the look-out. I was lying on a bank under the hedge of Bill Ferney's garden; and I heard Bill Ferney talking. He is a surly fellow, and has a bad name in the Bree-land, and queer folk are known to call at his house sometimes. You must have noticed him among the company: a swarthy man with a scowl. He was very close tonight with Harry Goatleaf, the west-gate keeper (a mean old curmudgeon); and with one of the southern strangers. They slipped out together just after your song and accident. I don't trust Ferney. He would sell anything to anybody, if you understand me.'

  'I don't understand you,' said Frodo.

  'Well, I'm not going to say it plainer,' said Trotter. 'I just wonder whether this unusual arrival of strange travellers up the Greenway, and the appearance of the hunting horsemen come together by mere chance. Both might be looking for the same thing - or person. Anyway, I heard Bill Ferney talking last night. I know his voice, though I could not catch what was said. The other voice was whispering, or hissing. And that's all I have to tell you. You must do as you like about my reward. But as for my coming with you, I will say this: I know all the lands between the Shire and the Misty Mountains, for I've wandered over them many times in the course of my life - and I'm older now than I look. I might prove useful. You'll have to leave the open Road after tonight; for if you ask me, I should say that these Riders are patrolling it - and still looking for your party. I don't fancy that you wish to meet them. I don't! They give me the creeps!' he ended suddenly with a shudder.

  The others looked at him and saw with surprise that his face was buried in his hands, and his hood was drawn right down. The room was very quiet and still and the lights seemed to have grown dim.

  'There! ' he cried after a moment, throwing back his hood and pushing the hair from his face. 'Perhaps I know more about these pursuers than you do. You do not fear them enough - yet. It seems to me only too likely that news of you will reach them before this night is over. Tomorrow you will have to go swiftly, and secretly - if you can. But Trotter can take you by paths that are seldom trodden. Will you have him?'

  Frodo made no answer. He looked at Trotter: grim and wild and rough-clad. It was hard to know what to do. He did not doubt that most of his tale was true; but it was less easy to feel sure of his good will. Why was he so interested? He had a dark look - and yet there was something in it that seemed friendly and even curiously attractive. And his speech had changed as he talked, from the unfamiliar tones of the Outsiders to something more familiar, something that seemed to remind Frodo of somebody.(9) The silence grew, and still he could not make up his mind.

  'Well, I'm for Trotter, if you want any help in deciding,' said Folco suddenly. 'In any case, I daresay he could follow us wherever we went, even if we refused.'

  'Than kyou!' said Trotter smiling at Folco. 'I could and I should; for I should feel it was my duty. But here is a letter which I have for you - that ought to make up your mind for you.' To Frodo's amazement he took from his pocket a small sealed letter and handed it over. On the outside was written: F. from G. () 'Read it! ' said Trotter.

  Here the chapter e
nds. It will be seen that in this narrative, despite the radical differences in what Trotter and Butterbur communicated, the original form of the story (in the 'A' version, but see note 8) was still closely followed.

  The manuscript of this chapter subsequently underwent immensely intricate alteration, with long insertions and deletions, for my father used the original text for two distinct developments, both involving major structural change. The one he called the 'red' version, marked out and paginated in red, the other the 'blue'; thus a rider on an inserted' slip bears the number 'rider to IX.3(g) = red IX.9 = blue IX.4'! The relations can in fact be worked out perfectly satisfactorily. The 'blue' version is the later, and peters out towards the end; this represents a later plot, in which all reference to the visit of Gandalf and Odo to The Prancing Pony is cut out. The 'red' version, on the other hand, may well be contemporary or nearly contemporary with the primary text; it is carefully written (the alterations constituting the 'blue' version being much rougher), and it tells the same story of Gandalf and Odo - but tells it quite differently. It takes up from the end of the description of Bree, and begins with Gandalf's arrival there with Odo, now told directly and not in Butterburian narrative.

  The Tuesday had been a day of heavy rain. Night had fallen some hours ago, and it was still pouring down. It was so dark that nothing could be heard but the seething noise of the rain, and the ripple of flood-rivers running down the hill - and the sound of hoofs splashing on the Road. A horse was slowly climbing up the long slope towards the village of Bree.

  Suddenly a great gate loomed up: it stretched right across the Road from one strong post to another, and it was shut. There was a small house beyond it, dark and grey. The horse halted with its nose over the top bar of the gate, and the rider, an old man, dismounted stiffly, and lifted down a small figure that had been riding on a pillion behind him. The old man beat on the gate, and was just beginning to climb over it, when the door of the house opened and a man came out with a lantern, muttering and grumbling.

  'A fine night to come hammering on the gate and getting a man out of his bed! ' he said.

  'And a fine night to be out in, wet through and cold, and on the wrong side of a gate! ' replied the rider. 'Come on now, Harry! Get it open quick! '

  'Bless me! ' cried the gate-keeper, holding up the lantern. 'Gandalf it is - and I might have guessed it. There's never no knowing when you'll turn up next.' He opened the gate slowly, peering in surprise at the small bedraggled figure at Gandalf's side. 'Thank you!' said Gandalf, leading his horse forward. 'This is a friend of mine, a hobbit out of the Shire. Have you seen any more on the Road? There ought to be four of them ahead, a party on ponies.'

  'There hasn't been any such party through, while I've been about,' said Harry. 'There might have been up to mid-day, for I was away in Staddle, and my brother was here. But I've heard no talk of it. Not that we watch the Road much between sunrise and nightfall, while the gate's open. But we shall have to be more heedful, I'm thinking.'

  'Why?' asked Gandalf. 'Have any strange folk been about?' 'I should say so! Mighty queer folk. Black men on horses; and a lot of foreigners out of the South came up the Greenway at dusk. But if you're going to The Pony, I should get on before they lock up. You'll hear all the news there. I'll be getting back to my bed, and wish you good night.' He shut the gate and went in.

  'Good night!' said Gandalf, and walked on into the village, leading his horse. The hobbit stumbled along beside him.

  There was a lamp still shining over the entrance to the inn, but the door was closed. Gandalf rang the bell in the yard, and after a little delay a large fat man, in his shirt sleeves and with slippers on his feet, opened the door a crack and peered out.

  'Good evening, Butterbur!' said the wizard. 'Any room for an old friend?'

  'Heavens above, if they aren't all washed away! ' cried the landlord. 'Gandalf! And what are you doing out in this weather and at this time of night? And who's your little friend?'

  Gandalf winked at him. 'Hot drinks and warm beds - that's what we want, and not too many questions,' he said, and stumped up the steps.

  'What about the horse?' asked the landlord.

  'Give him the best you've got! ' answered Gandalf. 'And if Bob grumbles at being got up again at this hour, tell him the beast deserves it: Narothal (10) has carried us both, fast and far today. I'll repay Bob in the morning according as my horse reports of him!'

  A little later the wizard and his companion were sitting before the hot embers of a fire in Mr Butterbur's own room, warming and drying themselves and drinking mulled ale. The landlord came in to say that a room was ready for them.

  'Don't you hurry yourselves! ' said he, 'but when you're ready, I'll be going to my own bed. There's been an unusual lot of travellers in here today, more than I remember for years, and I'm tired.'

  'Any hobbits among them?' asked Gandalf. 'I'm looking for four of them - a friend of mine out of the Shire and three companions.' He described Frodo carefully, but did not give his name. 'They should have five ponies and a fair amoung of baggage; and they ought to have reached Bree today. Harry hasn't seen them; but I hoped they might have come in without his noticing them.'

  'Nay,' said the landlord, 'a party like that would have been heard of even by Harry, dull old grumbler though he be. We don't get many Outsiders from the Shire to Bree these days. There's no such party at The Pony, and there's been none along the Road to my certain knowledge.'

  'That's bad news! ' said Gandalf, tugging at his beard. 'I wonder where they have got to! '(11) He was silent for a moment. 'Look here, Butterbur!' he went on. 'You and I are old friends. You have eyes and ears in your head, and though you say a lot, you know what to leave unsaid. I want to be private while I'm here, and if I see no one but you and Bob I'll be pleased. Don't tell everyone that I've asked after this party! But keep your eyes open, and if they turn up after I've gone, give them this message: Hurry on! Gandalf's ahead. Just that. Don't forget, because it's important. And if anyone - anyone, mind you, however strange - enquires after a hobbit called Baggins, tell them Baggins has gone east with Gandalf. Don't forget that, either, and I shall be grateful to you! '

  'Right you are!' said Mr Butterbur. 'I hope I'll not forget, though one thing drives out another, when I'm busy with guests in the house. Baggins, you say? Let me see - I remember that name. Wasn't there a Bilbo Baggins that they told some strange tales about over in the Shire? My dad told me that he had stayed in this house more than once. But your friend won't be him - he disappeared in some funny way nigh on twenty years back: vanished with a bang while he was talking, or so I've heard. Not that I believe all the tales that come out of the West.'

  'No need to,' said Gandalf, laughing. 'Anyway my young friend here is not old Bilbo Baggins. Just a relation.'

  'That's right! ' said the hobbit. 'Just a relation - a cousin in fact.' 'I see,' said the landlord. 'Well, it does you credit. Bilbo was a fine little fellow, and rich as a king into the bargain, if half I've heard is true. I'll give your messages, if the chance comes, Gandalf; and I'll ask no questions, strange though it all seems to me. But you know your own business best, and you've done me many a good turn.'

  'Thank you Barnabas! ' said Gandalf. 'And now I'll do you another - let you go to your bed at once.' He drained his mug and stood up. The landlord put out the lights, and holding a candle in each hand led them to their room.

  In the morning Gandalf and his friend got up late. They breakfasted in a private room, and spoke to no one but Mr Barnabas Butterbur. It was close on eleven before Gandalf called for his reckoning, and for his horse.

  'Tell Bob to take him up the lane and wait for me near the Greenway,' he said. 'I'm not going along the Road to be gaped at this morning.'

  He took his leave of the landlord at a side-door. 'Goodbye, my friend,' he said. 'Don't forget the messages! One day, perhaps, I'll tell you the whole story, and repay you, too, with something better even than good news - that is, I will, if the whole story does not
come to a bad end. Goodbye! '

  He walked off with the hobbit up a narrow lane that ran north from the inn over the ditch round the village and on towards the Greenway.(12) Bob the ostler was waiting outside the village boundary. The white horse was glossy and well-groomed, and seemed thoroughly rested and eager for another day's journey. Gandalf called to him by name, and Narothal (13) whinnied, tossing up his head, and trotting back to his master, and nuzzling against his face.

  'A good report, Bob!' said Gandalf, giving the ostler a silver piece. He mounted; and Bob helped the hobbit up on to a cushion behind the wizard, then he stood back with his cap in his hand, grinning broadly.

  'That's right, my lad! ' laughed Gandalf. 'We look a funny pair, I daresay. But we're not as funny as we look. When we've gone, remember that we've gone east, but forget that we set out along this lane. See? Goodbye! ' He rode off and left Bob scratching his head.

  'Curry me! if these aren't queer days!' he said to himself. 'Black men riding out of nowhere, and folk on the Greenway, and old Gandalf with a hobbit on a pillion and all! Things are beginning to move in Bree! But you watch yourself, Bob my lad - old Gandalf can hand out something hotter than silver.'