Chapter 21. Good Measure, Heaped Up, and Running Over

Hally sat huddled up in his cloak as Gundy drove the waggon slowly through the snowy streets, waving in reply to shouted greetings. Many of Tuckborough had seen the mantel in progress; a few had been fortunate enough to see the finished work at last night’s celebration. The word was already spreading that, thanks to Gundy and Hally, one of the wonders of the Shire was to be found in their own front garden, so to speak.

As they passed the marketplace, a farmer hailed Gundy, running to seize the lines and stop the waggon. ‘It’s true,’ he said incredulously, eyeing the empty waggon bed. ‘You got naught for your carving?’ He turned back to the marketplace. ‘Naught!’ he shouted.

 ‘Not true!’ Gundy laughed. He pulled his precious paper from under his cloak and waved it. ‘Got land! Our land is our own, no more renting for this lad!’

 ‘Well,’ the Tooklander said, only slightly mollified, ‘that’s well and all, but still—the Smials Tooks sent you away with an empty waggon? After you spent months carving them that work? I saw it, last night I did, bringing fresh mushrooms for the roasting!’

Gundy shoved the paper back into its safe hiding place. ‘I got my pay,’ he said. ‘Mistress gave me three parcels of land, three parcels!’ He grinned widely, putting one arm about Hally. ‘But you’d better let us go. Lad is ill, and we wish to reach the Cockerel before night’s chill.’

 ‘I’d heard,’ the farmer said. ‘We will not keep you more’n a few moments.’ He gestured to the market square behind him, to a group of farmers and farmers’ wives and families coming up to the waggon, laden with sacks and crates, parcels and baskets.

 ‘What’s all this?’ Gundy said in wonder as goods began to pile into the waggon.

 ‘Two fine woollen blankets,’ a weaver told him, laying these down, ‘best of my stock. From my own sheep, they are, and you won’t find none warmer in all of Tookland!’

 ‘A length of stout rope,’ a roper said, tossing in a coil. ‘Makes for safer limbing, when you’re cutting trees, I hear.’

 ‘Chickens!’ a farmer said, loading a large, clucking crate.

 ‘And eggs!’ his wife put in, setting a covered basket on the seat next to Hally. ‘Mind those now!’ she admonished, and Hally nodded.

So it continued, sacks of taters and oats and barley, a barrel of carrots packed in sand to keep through the winter, several baskets of apples, parcels of smoked fish, hams, and sausages, a crate with two rabbits (“Won’t be two for long!”), bundles of dried herbs, crocks of butter—in other words, more than was in the woodcarver’s larder at any one time. So it kept coming and mounting up, until the waggon was groaning with the bounty.

 ‘How are we to haul all this?’ Gundy said in astonishment. ‘What’s it for?’

 ‘It’s our thanks, for the treasure you’ve given Tuckborough,’ the first farmer said. ‘As far as hauling, just take it slow and steady.’

 ‘Here!’ another farmer called, leading two ponies harnessed and ready to go. ‘These aren’t for giving,’ he said hastily, ‘but for loaning. I’ll be coming down your way to cut wood later this month and will need them to haul the waggon back here when it’s full. You’ve enough grain in your sacks, and more, that you don’t need to worry about their feeding ‘til I fetch them!’ He hitched them on, running their reins through the guides and safely into Gundy’s hands.

 ‘I—I don’t know what to say,’ Gundy stammered, while Hally looked on with wide eyes.

 ‘Say thank you!’ the first farmer retorted, and all the hobbits assembled there laughed.

 ‘Thank you!’ Gundy shouted at the top of his lungs, standing up to wave vigorously. ‘Glad Yule to all!’

Amid cries of “Glad Yule!” he slapped the reins. With four ponies pulling, the waggon moved smoothly under its load of good wishes. The hobbits of Tuckborough sang them out of the marketplace and on out of the town.

 ‘What a shabby trick we’re playing,’ Rosemary whispered—for truly, it was Rosemary, and not Hally who rode there—when they were well away.

 ‘Not on them,’ Gundy replied. He shook his head in wonderment. Who’d have expected such from Tooks and Tooklanders? Perhaps the farmers here were not so very different from those he knew in the Marish. ‘The trick is on the Mistress, and I hardly feel any pangs, for she’d have sent us away just as empty, without the land, had we not finished our work in time.’

They were approaching the farm with the haystacks, and Gundy slowed the waggon to a stop, then got down to double-check the ponies’ harness, whistling a sprightly tune. In the meantime, Rosemary slipped into the bed of the waggon, pulling over herself one of the finely woven woollen blankets for concealment and warmth. Once out of sight, she shed cloak, hat and muffler, reaching out again to place them on the waggon seat.

Within a few moments, a figure crept from one of the stacks, approaching warily. ‘Dad?’

 ‘Indeed,’ Gundy answered. ‘I thought you’d be waiting for us!’

 ‘I was,’ Hally returned. ‘Waiting for an empty waggon drawn by two ponies!’ He stared in wonder. ‘What’s all this?’

 ‘Fruit of our labours, my boy, fruit of our labours,’ Gundy answered. ‘Climb up and don hat, muffler and cloak before someone comes along and sees you!’ Hally hastened to comply, Gundy jumped into the driver’s seat, and they were on their way once more.

They did not stop at the Cockerel after all, electing to continue driving into the gathering gloom of night. Hally walked ahead of the team with a lantern to light the road. It seemed his cold was much improved. Some time between middle night and dawn they reached the little cot deep in the woods of Woody End.

***

Pearl had made the tea, but when she brought the tray to the Thain’s study, Ferumbras took it from her and dismissed her. ‘You were supposed to be off duty this day, as I recall,’ he said. ‘Go, be with your family and enjoy your holiday as well as you might with all this fuss and bother.’

 ‘Thank you, Sir,’ she said with a courtesy. ‘You’re very kind.’

 ‘Go on with you,’ he said with a smile, ‘before my Mother changes my mind.’ Pearl blinked, not sure whether it was meant for a joke or for true, and with another quick bob she left.

 ‘What’s it all about, Pearl? What’s happening?’ her father demanded. ‘The festive breakfast cancelled, Tooks rushing here and there, riders going out? And Rosemary, wasn’t she to take breakfast with us, and Ferdi?’

 ‘Where is Rosemary, is she all right?’ Nell asked anxiously.

 ‘Did Ferdi take a turn for the worse?’ Eglantine said.

 ‘That’s the burning question,’ Pearl said. ‘Where is Rosemary? She seems to have vanished.’

 ‘Like the cinder girl, who turns to ash and blows away on the wind of middle night?’ Pervinca said eagerly.

 ‘You read too many stories,’ Pimpernel said in annoyance. ‘This is Rose we’re talking about!’

 ‘Nevertheless, she might as well have turned to ash,’ Pearl said. ‘She’s gone, and nobody knows where.’

 ‘Have they asked Ferdi?’ Paladin said. ‘O that’s right, I forgot, the lad doesn’t speak.’

Paladin had never been one for gossip, and Pearl had followed in his teaching. It was hard to avoid the Talk in the Smials, but she learned a great deal through listening and managed to hold her tongue in the bargain. Now, however, she found herself indignantly pouring out the details of Ferdi’s interview with the Mistress.

Paladin’s face grew very red as he listened, and Eglantine moved behind him, to soothe his shoulders with her capable hands. ‘Temper, my dear,’ she whispered.

 ‘It’s almost more than I can bear,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘To treat a grieving lad so... abandoned by his sister, and then to shout at him, throwing charity in his face that way! I’ve half a mind to...’

 ‘Paladin,’ his wife warned.

 ‘She didn’t abandon Ferdi; she had no choice,’ Pearl said. ‘They were going to marry her to Thain Ferumbras; once the marriage was announced she’d be trapped.’

 ‘Announced?’ Paladin snapped.

 ‘It was to be announced at the breakfast,’ Pearl said.

Eglantine swayed, losing colour. ‘It is as I feared,’ she whispered. ‘O Pearlie, I was afraid something like this would happen.’ Turning to see her face, Paladin took her arm and led her to a chair. Sinking down, she grabbed at her husband’s arm and said, ‘We’ve got to take Pearl home!’

 ‘No,’ Pearl said unexpectedly.

 ‘Your mother’s right, Pearlie,’ Paladin said. ‘This is no place for you.’

 ‘No,’ she said again. ‘There’s no one now to look after Ferdi. I’m older than Rosemary; I can look out for myself. Besides, her father gave his permission when the Thain asked him for her hand. You’d never do that, would you, Father?’

 ‘I cannot imagine such a thing,’ Paladin said, ‘not unless you were the one to ask for my blessing. I know you’d do so only if you had good reason, for the sake of love.’

 ‘For the sake of love,’ Eglantine echoed.

 ‘Indeed,’ Pearl said. ‘You need not fear on my behalf, Father. Let me stay. I don’t care about the gold or the pearls, but I do care about Ferdibrand. He was doing better; Bittersweet had hopes of a full recovery. Now he’s pulled into himself again, and if all who love him abandon him, what will become of him?’

 ‘Perhaps we should take him with us,’ Eglantine said.

Paladin shook his head. ‘No,’ he said heavily. ‘He’s all that Ferdinand has left.’

 ‘That’s true,’ Pearl said, tears coming to her eyes. ‘Cousin Ferdinand has disowned Rosemary. He had no choice in the matter.’

Her parents gave soft, shocked exclamations, but soon Paladin was nodding as his thoughts brought him to understanding. ‘It’s a good thing grand-da left the Smials,’ he said quietly, bitterness in his tone. ‘I could never live amongst the Smials Tooks and all their fine ways.’

 ‘Then perhaps we should stay on, for Ferdi’s sake,’ Eglantine said, but her shoulders slumped. They could not disoblige the neighbours any longer than they already were.

Pearl looked up to see Pippin’s stricken face. Stay on? What about Merry? ‘You’ll see Merry on the morrow, Pip, remember? You’re going on to Brandy Hall.’

 ‘Mum said we’re staying on,’ Pippin said.

 ‘No lad, we cannot, though I wish we could,’ Eglantine said, instantly perceiving the problem. Pippin brightened, and she thought of an errand. ‘Why don’t you go to the stables, see if our ponies are ready to make the trip tomorrow? Nell, go with him.’

 ‘Yes’m, ‘Nell said. She knew without being told that she was to distract the lad from any idle talk that might be flying about. ‘Come, Pip, let’s take them some of these apples going wanting in the bowl, shall we?’ Taking two lovely apples from the bowl on the table of their suite, she led the boy, chattering excitedly, out the door.

***

Ferdi lay facedown upon his pillow, his shoulders shaking. Viola talked soothingly, to no avail.

 ‘What is it? What’s happened?’ Reginard said from the doorway.

 ‘Herself,’ Viola said, wanting to spit out the words but maintaining a calm, even tone for the lad’s sake. ‘She put him in this state, she did, with her biting questions and her nasty words.’

 ‘Let me sit with him a bit,’ Regi said. ‘We were getting on pretty well, you know.’

 ‘I know,’ Viola said, giving the stiff back a last gentle rub. ‘His sister told me how you’d got him to where he wasn’t afraid if she wasn’t right there.’

 ‘His sister,’ Regi said, picking up on Viola’s hint, ‘told me I had a way with him.’

 ‘Very well,’ Viola said, getting up. ‘I’ll stir up some custard while you talk to him. Perhaps we can get him calm enough to eat something.’

 ‘You do that,’ Regi said, sitting down on the bed in her place. Putting a hand on the teen’s back, he said, ‘Ferdi, it’s Reg. You remember me, don’t you?’

Viola left, and Reginard continued talking, trying to break through. ‘It’s all right, Ferdi, you’re safe.’

 ‘Rose,’ Ferdi said, muffled, into the pillow.

Reginard sat back in astonishment, then leaned forward again. ‘That’s right,’ he said, ‘Rosemary’s missing. Do you know where she is?’

 ‘Gone,’ Ferdi said.

Dropping his voice, the tween said, ‘You know why she went, Ferdi?’

There was no answer, but the tousled head nodded. ‘Then you know she had to go,’ Regi said even more softly, ‘don’t you?’

Ferdi was silent a long time, then Regi heard a soft, broken, ‘Da...’

 ‘Your father had to disown her,’ he whispered. ‘Because...’ He wasn’t sure how to finish the thought, but Ferdi finished it for him.

 ‘Me,’ he moaned, and the shaking stopped. He was still, so still that Regi began to worry.

 ‘Ferdi,’ he began, but the teen clenched his fists in the pillow until they turned white.

 ‘Charity!’ he hissed. ‘Thain’s charity!’ ...and then his hands went limp and he was silent once more.

 ‘O Ferdi,’ Reginard said softly. He had a sudden inspiration. ‘Sit up,’ he said. ‘I’ve something to tell you.’ He thought for a moment that it wasn’t going to work, but the hands clenched again, and then they pushed the pillow away, and wonder of wonders, Ferdi was sitting up and looking him in the eye.

Regi took a deep breath. ‘You don’t have to live off the Thain’s charity if you pay your own way,’ he said.

 ‘How?’ Ferdi asked haltingly.

 ‘Your father liked to brag about what a good shot you are,’ Regi said. ‘I remember, you even won the tournament in the teens’ class last year. What do you think about becoming a hunter? If you bring in game for the Thain’s pot you’ll earn your keep.’ He eyed the teen. ‘Are you willing to try?’

 ‘Try,’ Ferdi echoed.

 Regi nodded. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘We’ll begin first thing on the morrow.’