The Return Of The Shadow Part 10

Privately Printed in the Department of English at University College, London MCMx.x.xVI.

In November 1940 Winifred Husbands of University College wrote to my father and explained that 'when the books were ready, Dr Smith realised that he had never asked your permission or that of Professor Gordon, and he said that the books must not be distributed till that had been done - but, so far as I know, he has never written or spoken to you on the subject, though I spoke of it to him more than once. The sad result is that most of the copies printed, being left undistributed in our rooms in Gower Street, have perished like the press itself in the fire which destroyed that part of the College building.' My father was therefore asked to give his retrospective permission. At that time there were 13 copies known to her, but subsequently she found more, I do not know how many; my father received two (p. 142).

There are 30 Songs for the Philologists, in Gothic, Icelandic, Old, Middle and Modern English, and Latin, and some poems in a macaronic mixture of languages. My father was the author of 13 (6 in Modern English, 6 in Old English, i in Gothic), and E. V. Gordon of two. Three of my father's Old English poems, and the one in Gothic, are printed with translations as an appendix to Professor T. A. Shippey's The Road to Middle-earth (1982).(*) (* This is a convenient place to cite my father's explanation of the significance of the Birch-tree that appears in two of the poems given by Professor Shippey (see his book pp. 206- 7); cf. also 'Birchyard' in the chorus to verse a of The Root of the Boot. In a note on one of his copies of Songs for the Philologists my father wrote: 'B-rune, B, Bee and (because of the runic name of B) Birch all symbolize mediaeval and philological studies (including Icelandic); while A, and Ac (oak = F-rune ) denote 'modern literature'. This more pleasing heraldry (and friendly rivalry and raillery) grew out of the grim a.s.sertion in the Syllabus that studies should be "divided into two Schemes, Scheme A and Scheme B". A was mainly modern and B mainly mediaeval and philological. Songs, festivities and other gaieties were however mainly confined to B.') (ii) The Cat and the Fiddle.

'The Cat and the Fiddle', which became Bingo's song at The Prancing Pony, was published in 1923 in Yorkshire Poetry, Vol. II no. 19 (Leeds, the Swan Press). I give here the text as it is found in the original ma.n.u.script, written on Leeds University paper.

THE CAT AND THE FIDDLE,.

or A Nursery Rhyme Undone and its Scandalous Secret Unlocked.

They say there's a little crooked inn Behind an old grey hill, Where they brew a beer so eery brown The man in the moon himself comes down, And sometimes drinks his fill.

And there the ostler has a cat That plays a five-stringed fiddle; Mine host a little dog so clever He laughs at any joke whatever, And sometimes in the middle.

They also keep a homed cow, 'Tis said, with golden hooves - But music turns her head like ole, And makes her wave her tufted tail, And dance upon the rooves.

But O! the rows of silver dishes And the store of silver spoons: For Sunday there's a special pair, And these they polish up with care On Sat.u.r.day afternoons.

The man in the moon had drunk too deep, The ostler's cat was totty*, A dish made love to a Sunday spoon, The little dog saw all the jokes too soon, And the cow was dancing-dotty.

The man in the moon had another mug And fell beneath his chair, And there he called for still more ale, ?hough the stars mere fading thin and pale, And the dawn was on the stair.

Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat: 'The white horses of the Moon, They neigh and champ their silver bits, For their master's been and drowned his wits, And the Sun 'll be rising soon - Come play on your fiddle a hey-diddle-diddle, A jig to wake the dead. '

So the cat played a terrible drunken tune, While the landlord shook the man in the moon: "Tis after three, 'he said.

They rolled him slowly up the hill And bundled him in the moon, And his horses galloped up in rear, And the cow came capering like a deer, And the dish embraced the spoon.

The cat then suddenly changed the tune, The dog began to mar, The horses stood upon their heads, The guests all bounded from their beds, And danced upon the floor.

The cat broke all his fiddle-strings, The cow jumped over the moon, The little dog howled to see such fun, In the middle the Sat.u.r.day dish did run Away with the Sunday spoon.

The round moon rolled off down the hill, But only just in time, For the Sun looked up with fiery head, And ordered everyone back to bed, And the ending of the rhyme.

(* totty: tottery, shaky, dizzy.) The two versions found in the ma.n.u.script of the present chapter move progressively towards the final form, and with emendations made to the second of them it is virtually attained (FR pp. 170 - 2).

IX. TROTTER AND THE JOURNEY TO WEATHERTOP.

The original t.i.tleless chapter VII continues without a break through what became in FR Chapter 10 'Strider', ending part way through FR Chapter 11 'A Knife in the Dark', but the first part of the narrative to be given now exists in two structurally quite distinct forms (both written legibly in ink). These my father marked 'Short' and 'Alternative', but for the purposes of this chapter I shall call them A ('Alternative') and B ('Short'). The relation between the two is a textual conundrum, though I think it can be explained,(1) the question is however of no great importance for the history of the narrative, since the two versions obviously belong to the same time. I give first the alternative A (on which my father subsequently wrote 'Use this version').

'There now!' said the landlord, snapping his fingers. 'Half a moment. It's come back to me, as I said it would. Bless me! Four hobbits and five ponies! There's been some enquiries for a party of your description in the last few days; and perhaps I might have a word with you.'

'Yes, certainly! ' said Bingo with a sinking feeling. 'But not here. Won't you come to our room?'

'As you wish,' said the landlord. 'I'll be coming along to bid you good night and see that n.o.b has brought all you need, as soon as I've seen to a thing or two: we may have a word then.'

Bingo, Odo, and Frodo made their way back to their parlour.(2) There was no light. Merry was not there, and the fire had burned low. It was not until they had puffed up the embers into a blaze and put on a f.a.ggot that they discovered Trotter had come with them. There he was calmly sitting in a chair in the corner.

'Hullo!'said Odo. 'What do you want?'

'This is Trotter,' said Bingo hastily. 'I believe he wants a word with me too.'

'I do and I don't,' said Trotter. 'That is: I have my price.'

'What do you mean?' asked Bingo, puzzled and alarmed.

'Don't be frightened. I mean just this: I will tell you what I know, and give you what I've got, and what's more I'll keep your secret under my hood (which is closer than you or your friends keep it) - but I shall want my reward.'

'And what will that be, pray?' said Bingo, angrily; he not unnaturally suspected that they had met a rascal, and he thought uncomfortably of his small remaining purse of money.(3) All of it would hardly satisfy a rascal, and he could not spare any of it. 'Not much,' answered Trotter with an amused grin. 'Just this: you must take me along with you, until I want to leave you! ' 'Oh, indeed!' replied Bingo, surprised but not much relieved. 'But even if I was likely to say yes, I would not promise any such thing until I knew a lot more about you, and your news, Mr Trotter.'

'Excellent!' said Trotter, crossing his legs. 'You seem to be coming to your senses again; and that is all to the good. You have not been half suspicious enough so far. Very well then: I will tell you what I know, and leave the rest to you. That's fair enough.' 'Go on then! ' said Bingo. 'What do you know?'

'Well, it's like this,' said Trotter, dropping his voice; he got up and went to the door, opened it quickly, looked out, and then shut it quietly and sat down again. 'I have quick ears, and though I can't disappear into thin air, I can take care no one sees me, when I don't wish them to. I was behind a hedge when a party of travellers was halted by the Road not far west from here. There was a cart and horses and ponies; a whole pack of dwarves, one or two elves, and - a wizard. Gandalf, of course; there's no mistaking him, you'll agree. They were talking about a certain Mr Bingo Bolger- Baggins and his three friends, that were supposed to be riding on the Road behind. A bit incautious of Gandalf, I must say; but then, he was speaking low and I have quick ears, and was lying pretty close.

'I followed him and his party here to this inn. There was a fine commotion for a Sunday morning, I can tell you, and old Barnabas was running round in rings; but they kept themselves to themselves and did not talk outside closed doors. That would be five days ago.(4) They went away next morning. Now up comes a hobbit and three friends out of the Shire, and though he gives out the name of Hill, he and his friends seem to know a lot of the doings of Gandalf and of Mr Bolger-Baggins of Underhill. I can put two and two together. But that need not trouble you: for I am going to keep the answer under my hood, as I said. Maybe Mr Bolger-Baggins has his own good reasons for leaving his name behind. But if so, I should advise him to remember that there are more folk than Trotter that can add two and two together; and not all are to be trusted.'

'I am obliged to you,' said Bingo, feeling relieved, for Trotter did not seem to know anything very serious. 'I have my reasons for leaving my name behind, as you put it; but I can't quite see how any one else would guess my real name from what has occurred, unless he had your skill in eavesdropping, in - er - collecting information. Nor what use my real name would be to anybody in Bree.'

'Can't you?' said Trotter rather grimly; 'but eavesdropping, as you put it, is not unknown in Bree, and besides, I have not told you all yet.'

But at that moment he was interrupted by a knock on the door. Mr Barnabas b.u.t.terbur was there, with a tray of candles, and n.o.b behind him with jugs of hot water. 'Thinking you might wish to give some orders before you went to bed,' said the landlord, putting the candles on the table, 'I've come to wish you a good night. n.o.b! Take the water to the rooms.' He came in and shut the door.

'It's like this, Mr - er - Hill,' he said. 'I've been asked more than once to look out for a party of four hobbits from the Shire, four hobbits with five ponies. Hullo, Trotter, you here! '

'It's all right,' said Bingo. 'Say what you want. Trotter has my leave to stay.' Trotter grinned.

'Well,' began Mr b.u.t.terbur again, 'it's like this. Five days ago (yes, that's right, it would be Sunday morning, when all was quiet and peaceful) up rode a whole pack of travellers. Queer folk, dwarves and what not, with a cart and horses. And old Mr Gandalf was with them. Now says I to myself, there's been some doings in the Shire; and they'll be returning from the Party.'

'From the Party? ' said Bingo. 'What Party?'

'Lor bless you, yes, sir! From the party your Mr Green was telling of. Mr Bolger-Baggins' party. A rare lot of traffic went westward through here earlier in the month. Some Men there were too. Great Big Folk. There hasn't been anything like it in my time. Those that would say anything gave out that they were going or taking stuff to a Mr Bolger-Baggins' birthday party. It seems he was a relation of that Mr Bilbo Baggins there was once strange tales about. Indeed they are still told in Bree, sir; though I daresay they are forgotten in the Shire. But we are slower-moving in Bree, so to speak, and like to, hear old-tales again. Not that I believe all these stories, mind you. Legends, I call 'em. They may be true, and then again mayhap they ain't. Now, where was I? Yes. Last Sunday morning in came old Mr Gandalf and his dwarves and all. "Good morning," said I. "And where may you be going to, and where may you be coming from?" says I pleasant like. But he winks at me, and says nothing, and neither did any of his folk. But later on he drew me aside, and he said: "b.u.t.terbur," said he, "I have some friends behind that will be pa.s.sing your way before long. They should be here by Tuesday,(5) if they can follow a plain road. They are hobbits: one is a round-bellied little chap (begging your pardon, sir) with red cheeks, and the others just young hobbits. They'll be riding on ponies. Just tell them to push along, will you? I'll go on slow from here, and they had best catch me up, if they can. Now don't go telling anybody else, and don't encourage them to stop here for a holiday. Your beer's good; but they must take what they can quick, and move on. See?"

'Thankyou,' said Bingo, thinking Mr b.u.t.terbur had finished; and relieved again to find that there seemed nothing very serious behind the mystery.

'Ah, but wait a minute,' said Barnabas b.u.t.terbur, dropping his voice. 'That wasn't the end of it. There was others that enquired after four hobbits; and that's what is puzzling me. On Monday evening there came riding in a big fellow on a great black horse. All hooded and cloaked he was. I was standing by my door, and he spoke to me. Very strange I thought his voice, and could hardly make out his talk at first. I did not like the looks of him at all. But sure enough he was asking for news of four hobbits with five ponies (6) that were riding out of the Shire. There's something funny here, thought I; but remembering what old Mr Gandalf said, I gave him no satisfaction. "I haven't seen any such party," I said. "What may you,be wanting with them, or with me?" At that he whipped up his horse without another word, and rode off eastward. The dogs were all yammering, and the geese a-screaming, as he went through the village. I was not sorry to see him go, I can tell you. But I heard tell later that three were seen going along the road towards Combe behind the hill, though where the other two sprang from no one could say.

'But will you believe me, they came back, or some others as like 'em as night and dark followed after them. On Tuesday evening, there was a bang at the door, and my dog in the yard set up a yelping and a howling. "It's another of they black Men,' said n.o.b coming to fetch me with his hair all on end. Sure enough it was, when I went to the door: not one though, but four of 'em; and one was sitting there in the twilight with his horse nigh on my doorstep. He stooped down at me, and spoke in a sort of whisper. It made me go queer down me back, if you understand me, as if someone had poured cold water behind me collar.(7) It was the same story: he wanted news of four hobbits with five ponies. But he seemed more pressing and eager like. Indeed to tell you the truth he offered me a tidy bit of gold and silver if I would tell him which way they had gone, or promise to watch out for them.

'"There's lots of hobbits and ponies round here and on the Road," said I (thinking things mighty curious, and not liking the sound of his voice). "But I haven't seen any party of that sort. If you give me a name, maybe I could give a message, if they happen to call at my house." At that he sat silent for a moment. And then, sir, he says: "The name is Baggins, Bolger-Baggins," and he hissed out the end of it like a snake. "Any message?" says I, all of a twitter. "Nay, just tell him that we are seeking him in haste," he hissed; "you may see us again, perhaps," and with that he and his fellows rode away, and disappeared quick in the darkness, being all wrapped up in black, like.

'Now what do you make of that, Mr Hill? I must say that it comes in my mind to wonder if that is your right name, begging your pardon. But I hope I have done right: for it seems to me that those black fellows mean no good by Mr Bolger-Baggins, if that is who you are.'

'Yes! He is Mr Bolger-Baggins all right,' said Trotter suddenly. 'And he ought to be grateful to you. He has only himself and his friends to thank, if all the village knows his name by now.'

'I am grateful,' said Bingo. 'I am sorry I cannot tell you the whole story, Mr b.u.t.terbur. I am very tired, and rather worried. But to put it briefly, these - er - black riders are just what I'm trying to escape. I should be very grateful (and so also will Gandalf be, and I expect old Tom Bombadil as well) if you would forget that anyone but Mr Hill pa.s.sed this way; though I hope these abominable riders won't bother you any more.'

'I hope not indeed! ' said Barnabas.

'Well, now good night!' said Bingo. 'Thank you again for your kindness.'

'Good night, Mr Hill. Good night, Trotter! ' said Barnabas. 'Good night, Mr Brown, sir, and Mr Green. Bless me now, where's Mr Rivers?'

'I don't know,' said Bingo; 'but I expect he is outside. He said something about going out for a breath of air. He'll be in before long.'

'Very well. I'll not go locking him out,' said the landlord. 'Good night to you all!' With that he went out, and his feet died away down the pa.s.sage.

'There now! ' said Trotter, before Bingo could speak. 'Old Barnabas has told you a good deal of what I still had to say. I saw the Riders myself. There are seven at least. That rather alters things, doesn't it?'

'Yes,' said Bingo, hiding his alarm as well as he could. 'But we knew already that they were after us; and they did not find out anything new, it seems. How lucky that they came before we arrived! '

'I should not be sure,' said Trotter. 'I've still some more to add. [Added in pencil: I first saw the Riders last Sat.u.r.day away west of Bree, before I ran across Gandalf. I am not at all sure they were not following his trail, too. I also saw those that called on Barnabas. And] on Tuesday night I was lying on a bank under the hedge of Bill Ferny's garden; and I heard Bill Ferny talking. He is a queer fellow, and his friends are like him. You may have noticed him among the company: a swarthy fellow with a scowl. He slipped out just after the song and the 'accident'. I wouldn't trust him. He would sell anything to anybody. Do you take my meaning? I did not see who Ferny was talking to, nor did I hear what was said: the voices were hisses and whispers. That is the end of my news. You must do what you like about my 'reward'. But as for my coming with you, I will say just this: I know all the lands between the Shire and the Mountains, for I've wandered over most of them in the course of my life; and I'm older now than I look. I might prove useful. For I fancy you'll have to leave the open Road after tonight's accident. I don't think somehow that you will be wanting to meet any of these Black-riders, if you can help it. They give me the creeps.' He shuddered, and they saw with surprise that he had drawn his hood over his face which was buried in his hands. The room seemed very still and quiet and the lights dim.

'There! It has pa.s.sed!' he said after a moment, throwing back his hood and pushing his hair from his face. 'Perhaps I know or guess more about these Riders then even you do. You do not fear them enough - yet. But it seems likely enough to me that news of you will reach them before the night is old. Tomorrow you will have to go swiftly and secretly (if possible). But Trotter can take you by ways that are little trod. Will you have him?'

Bingo made no answer. He looked at Trotter: grim and wildand rough-clad. It was hard to know what to do. He did not doubt that most of his tale was true (borne out as it was by the landlord's account); but it was less easy to feel sure of his good intent. He had a dark look - and yet there was something in it, and in his speech which often strayed from the rustic manner of the rangers and Bree-folk, that seemed friendly, and even familiar. The silence grew, and still Bingo could not make up his mind.

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

'Thank you!' said Trotter, smiling at Frodo. 'I could, and I should, for I should feel it my duty. But here is a letter which I have for you - I daresay it will help you to make up your mind.'

To Bingo's amazement he took from a pocket a small sealed letter and handed it over. On the outside it was inscribed: 'B from G '.

'Read it,' said Trotter.(8) Bingo looked carefully at the seal before he broke it. It seemed undoubtedly to be Gandalf's, as was the writing and the Rune . Inside was the following message. Bingo read it aloud: Monday morning Sept. 26. Dear B. Don't stop long in Bree - not for the night, if you can help it. Have learned some news on the way. Pursuit is getting close: there are 7 at least, perhaps more. On no account use It again, not even for a joke. Don't move in dark or mist. Push along by day! Try and catch me up. I cannot wait here for you; but I shall go slow for a day or two. Look out for our camp on Weathertop Hill.(9) I shall wait there as long as I dare. I am giving this to a ranger (wild hobbit) known as Trotter: he is dark, long-haired, has wooden shoes! You can trust him. He is an old friend of mine and knows a great deal. He mill guide you to Weathertop and further if necessary. Push along! Yours Gandalf .(10) Bingo looked at the trailing handwriting - it seemed as plainly genuine as the seal. 'Well, Trotter!' he said, 'if you had told me right away that you had this letter, it would have smoothed things out a lot, and saved a lot of talk. But why did you invent all that about eavesdropping?'

'I did not,' laughed Trotter. 'I gave old Gandalf quite a start when I popped up from behind the hedge. I told him he was lucky that it was an old friend. We had a long talk, about various things - Bilbo and Bingo and the [added in pencil: Riders and the] Ring, if you want to know. He was very pleased to see me, as he was in a hurry and yet anxious to get in touch with you.'

'Well, I must admit I am glad to have a word from him,' said Bingo. 'And if you are a friend of Gandalf's then we are lucky to meet you. I am sorry if I was unnecessarily suspicious.'

'You weren't,' said Trotter. 'You weren't half suspicious enough. If you had had previous experience of your present enemy, you would not trust your own hands without a good look, once you knew that he was on your track. Now I am suspicious: and I had to make quite sure that you were genuine first, before handing over any letter. I've heard of shadow-parties picking up messages that were not meant for them - it has been done by enemies before now. Also, if you want to know, it amused me to see if I could induce you to take me on - just by my gifts of persuasion. It would have been nice (though quite wrong) if you had accepted me for my manners without testimonial! But there, I suppose my looks are against me! '

'They are! ' said Odo laughing. 'But handsome is as handsome does, we say in the Shire, and anyway I daresay we shall all look much the same before long, after lying in hedges and ditches.' 'It will take more than a few days (or weeks or years) wandering in the world to make you look like Trotter,' he answered, and Odo subsided. 'You would die first, unless you are made of tougher stuff than you look to be.'

'What are we to do?' said Bingo. 'I don't altogether understand his letter. Gandalf said "don't stay in Bree." Is Barnabas b.u.t.terbur all right?'

'Perfectly!' said Trotter. 'As sound a hobbit as you would find between the West Towers and Rivendell. Faithful, kind, shrewd enough in his plain business; but not overcurious about anything but the daily events among the simple Bree-folk. If anything strange happens he just invents an.explanation or else forgets it. "Queer," he says, and scratches his head, and goes back to his larder, or his brewhouse. That is just as well for you! I expect he has now convinced himself that there was "some mistake", and that the light was tricky, and that all the hobbits in the room merely imagined that "Mr Hill" disappeared. The black riders will become ordinary travellers looking for a friend, in a week or two - if they don't come back.'

'Well, is it safe then to stay the night here?' said Bingo, with a look at the comfortable fire and the candle-light. 'I mean, Gandalf said: "push along"; but also: "don't move in the dark".'

It is here that the alternative version B (see p. 148 and note 1) joins or merges with version A just given (though before this point, as will be seen, there are substantial pa.s.sages in common). The beginning of the narrative is here quite different: 'There now!' said the landlord, snapping his fingers. 'Half a moment. It's come back to me, as I said it would. Bless me! Four hobbits and five ponies! I think I have a letter for your party.'

'A- letter! ' said Bingo, holding out his hand.

'Well,' said he, hesitating; 'he did say that I must be careful to deliver it to the right hands. So perhaps, if you don't mind, you would be so good as to tell me, who you might expect a message from.'

'Gandalf?' said Bingo. 'An old - er - man' (he thought perhaps wizard was an inadvisable word) 'with a tall hat and a long beard?' 'Gandalf it was,' said b.u.t.terbur; 'and old he is, but there is no call to describe him. All folk know him. A wizard they say he is; but that's as may be. But what may your first name be, if you will excuse my asking, sir?'

'Bingo.'

'Ah! ' said Barnabas(11)." 'Well, that seems all right; though he did say that you should be here by Tuesday, not Thursday, as it is.(12) Here is the letter.' From his pocket he drew a small sealed envelope, on which was written: To Bingo from G. by the hand of Mr B. b.u.t.terbur, landlord of the Prancing Pony, Bree.

'Thank you very much, Mr b.u.t.terbur,' said Bingo, pocketing the letter. 'Now, if you will excuse me, I will say good night. I am very tired.'

'Good night, Mr Hill! I'll be sending water and candles to your room as soon as may be.' He trotted off; and Bingo, Frodo, and Odo made their way back to their parlour.

Version B now agrees with version A virtually word for word from here (p. 148) to Trotter's words 'but eavesdropping, as you put it, is not unknown in Bree, and besides, I have not told you all yet' (p. 150), at which point in A he was interrupted by the arrival of Mr b.u.t.terbur; thus in B also, Trotter tells them of his overhearing Gandalf talking about Bingo with the Dwarves and Elves on the Road west of Bree. B now diverges again: ... Besides, I have not yet told you the most important part.

There were other folk enquiring after four hobbits.'

Bingo's heart sank: he guessed what was coming. 'Go on,' he said quietly.

'On Monday evening at the west end of the village I nearly ran into a horse and rider going fast in the dusk: all hooded and cloaked in black he was, and his horse was tall and black. I hailed him with a curse, not liking the looks of him; and he halted and spoke. He had a strange voice, and I could hardly make out his talk at first. Sure enough, he was asking for news of four hobbits with five ponies that were riding out of the Shire. I stood still and did not answer; and he brought his horse step by step nearer to me. When he was quite close he stooped and sniffed. Then he hissed, and rode off through the village, eastward. I heard the dogs yammering, and geese screaming. From the talk in the inn that night I gathered that three riders had been seen in the dusk going along the Road towards Combe behind the hill; though I don't know where the other two sprang from.

'On Tuesday I was on the look-out all day. Sure enough, as evening drew in, I saw the same riders again, or others as like them as night is to darkness - coming down the Road from the West again. Four this time, though, not three. I hailed them from behind a hedge as they pa.s.sed; and they all halted suddenly, and turned towards my voice. One of them - he seemed larger and mounted on a taller horse - came forward in my direction. "Where are you going, and what is your business?" I said. The rider leaned forward as if he was peering - or smelling; and then riding to the hedge he spoke in a sort of whisper. I felt cold shivers run down my back. It was the same story: he wanted news of four hobbits and five ponies. But he seemed more pressing and eager. Indeed (and it is that that is worrying me at the moment) he offered a deal of silver and gold, if I could tell him which way they had gone, or promise to watch out for them. "I have seen no such party," I said, "and I am a wanderer myself, and maybe shall be far West 'or East by tomorrow. But if you give me a name, maybe I could give a message, if I happen to meet such folk in my way." At that he sat silent for a while; and then he said suddenly: "The name is Baggins, Bolger-Baggins," and he hissed out the end of it like a snake. "What message?" I asked all trembling. "Just tell him that we are seeking him in haste," he hissed; and with that he rode away with his companions, and their black robes were quickly swallowed up in the dark. What do you think of that? It rather alters things, doesn't it?'

'Yes,' said Bingo, hiding his alarm as well as he could. 'But we knew already that they were after us; and they do not seem to have found out anything new.'

'If you can trust me!' said Trotter, with a look at Bingo. 'But even so, I should not be too sure. I've a little more to tell. On Tuesday night I was lying on a bank under the hedge of Bill Ferny's garden...

Here version B returns again to the other (p. 153), and is almost word for word the same as far as 'The silence grew, and still Bingo could not make up his mind' (p. 154), the only difference being that after 'Bingo did not doubt that most of his tale was true' the words '(borne out as it was by the landlord's account)' are necessarily absent, since in this version Mr b.u.t.terbur has not encountered the Riders. Now follows in B: 'I should take a look at that letter of Gandalf's, if I were you,' said Trotter quietly. 'It might help you to make up your mind.'

Bingo took the letter, which he had almost forgotten, out of his pocket. He looked at the seal carefully before he broke it. It seemed certainly to be Gandalf's, as was the writing, and the runic . He opened it, and read it aloud.

The letter is the same as in version A, except at the end, since in this story Gandalf gave the letter not to Trotter but to the landlord: (13) ... If you meet a ranger (mild hobbit: dark, long-haired, has wooden shoes!) known as Trotter, stick to him. You can trust him. Old friend of mine: I have seen him, and told him to look out for you. He knows a lot. He mill guide you to Weathertop and further if necessary. Push along! Yours Gandalf .

Bingo looked at the trailing handwriting. It seemed as plainly genuine as the seal. 'Well, Trotter,' he said, 'if you had told me right away that you had seen Gandalf to speak to, and that he had written this letter, it would have smoothed things out a lot, and saved a lot of talk.'

'As for the letter,' said Trotter, 'I knew nothing about it, till old Barnabas brought it out. Gandalf put two strings to his bow. I expect he was afraid I might miss you.'

'But why did you invent all that tale about eavesdropping?'

'I did not invent it,' laughed Trotter. 'It was true. I gave old Gandalf quite a start when I popped up from behind the hedge.

The two texts coincide again from this point (p. 154) - except of course that Trotter does not say here 'I had to make quite sure that you were genuine first, before handing over any letter', but simply 'I had to mate sure that you were genuine.' But when Bingo says 'I don't altogether understand this letter. He says "don't stop in Bree" ' (p. 155), in version B he gets no further, for: At that moment there came a knock on the door. Mr b.u.t.terbur was there again, with a tray of candles, and n.o.b behind him with jugs of hot water. 'Here's your water and lights, if you be wishing for your beds,' said he. 'But your Mr Rivers has not come in yet. I hope he will not be long, for I've a mind for bed myself, but I won't leave the locking-up to anyone else tonight; not with these pestering black foreigners about.'

'Where can Merry have got to?' said Frodo. 'I hope he's all right.'

'Give him a few more minutes, Mr b.u.t.terbur,' said Bingo. 'I am sorry to bother you.' 'Very good,' he said, putting the candles on the table. 'n.o.b, take the water to the rooms! Good night, sirs.' He shut the door.