CHAPTER 3

Pippin wearily moved along, one hand on the wall. He was so hungry, and he was coughing more. And he was very frightened.

Suddenly, he found himself at a dead end. This tunnel went no further. He turned around, and started back. Somewhere *one* of these passages *had* to lead to a way out. But he was so tired. He saw a door looming to one side. Another room. He opened it, and went in. Maybe he could sit down and rest. There was a pile of rubble and dirt at one end, with a decayed beam laying across it. Boards and lathes from the wall leaned out, looking as though they could fall at any time. He sat down by one end of the beam, and slumped against it. He started to cry; his head hurt from hunger. Why hadn’t he listened to Merry? All the wonderful Adventure he thought he would find was just--nothing.

Just then, he heard that skittering noise again. He held up the lantern. Its flicker was beginning to weaken, but Pippin didn’t want to think about that.

There were eyes looking at him. Red eyes. He held the lantern forward a bit. It was a rat.

A big one, staring at him. Another skitter, and then another. Eyes all around.

He shrieked, loudly. And for all the good it did him, he called for the person who always came for him.

“MERRRRYY!”

His scream just echoed back at him mockingly.

The rats had retreated at the first of his screams, but now they moved forward again cautiously. Terrified he scrambled back, up the rubble pile.

Dirt and pieces of wood slid back.

The boards and lathe came tumbling down, boxing him in. He suddenly found himself effectively caged. The good news was, the rats could not get at him.

The bad news was, the lantern suddenly went out.

He was alone in the utter dark.
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Merry jerked in his grandfather’s firm hold. “Let me go! Let me go! He needs me!”

“Meriadoc!” Rorimac gave the struggling lad a hard shake by the arm. “Stop it! You cannot go to him! We do not yet know where he is!”

Merry collapsed weeping into the strong old arms. “He needs me, he needs me, Grandda!”

“Shush, lad, now.” He began to rock him back and forth, patting his back. “You have to calm down. I do not want to send you away.”

Merry stopped crying and looked up defiantly. But before he could say anything, his grandfather repeated, “I do not want to send you away; I will not, if you will just calm down. But if you try to go in there again, then you will be taken back and locked in your room. Do you understand?”

He took a few shuddering, deep breaths, and not trusting his voice, nodded.

About that time Esmeralda returned. She had the rope; behind her came Cousin Hilda with a tray, and some more food and drink, and there were also Uncle Dinodas and Cousin Marroc with extra lanterns.

Esmeralda took in Merry’s tearful face, and summoned him to her side, where she placed a comforting arm around him. To Rorimac, she said “Here’s the rope, and I brought some more help, to spell the searchers.”

“Good thinking, my dear,” said her father-in-law. Rory looked at Merry. “You know, lad, hearing Pippin like that is not a bad thing.”

Merry looked up at his grandfather sharply. “How can you say that? He must be in awful trouble!”

“Perhaps.” The Master of Buckland shook his head. “But think about what this shows, Meriadoc. He has the use of his lungs, and he is somewhere near enough the entrance that we were able to hear him. It shows we are not searching in vain.”

Merry nodded, very slightly reassured. He had not thought of it in those terms, but his grandfather was right. Still, he could not get his mind away from the sheer terror in Pippin’s outcry. It broke his heart that his little cousin needed him and he could not go to him.

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Saradoc moved methodically through the passages, the rope trailing behind him, to keep him tethered to the entrance, so that he would not lose the way. Pippin’s scream had terrified him at first. Then he hoped that perhaps they could locate him now, if they could get him to cry out again. He had given up on calling the lad’s name, but now he re-doubled his efforts. “Pippin! Peregrin!”

It was the echoes that were defeating their hopes of that, however. It had not been possible to locate from whence the outcry had come, and now it did not look as though it would be repeated.

Still, it was encouraging to know that whatever had frightened the lad, he still had the use of his voice.

And it brought tears to his eyes to realize whose name it was his nephew had called. Any other child in such a situation would have called for his parents.

It was unthinkable that they not find Pippin. If Merry should lose his cousin, they might very well lose Merry.

He heard a noise, and held the lantern out hopefully, heart leaping. But he was dismayed to realize it was just a rat. It darted away from the light.

Rats. They would have to do something about that when this was over. An infestation here could spread to the inhabited part of the smials if they did not deal with it soon. Putting it out of his mind, he resumed the weary search.

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Pippin’s scream had taken the last of his flagging energy. He had lapsed into a welcome unconsciousness afterward.

He missed hearing the sound of his uncle’s call, and the brief gleam of light as the lantern passed the room.
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To the weary searchers and helpers in the mathom room, time had ceased to have much meaning, but dawn had broken over Buckland and a new day had begun.

Esmeralda had finally coaxed Merry back into one of the armchairs, where he had huddled, silently sobbing while she soothed his brow, until he had drifted off into exhausted sleep.

Piles of blankets had been unearthed from the heap of mathoms and placed as pallets on the floor, so that the searchers could take a brief rest.

Rorimac snored lightly in the chair next to Merry’s.

Esmeralda was perched on a box, and only her precarious seating kept her from dozing off as well, for each time her head nodded, she drew up with a jerk. Saradoc lay upon one of the makeshift pallets, but sleep eluded him.

Menegilda came in just then accompanied by Hilda, and Merimac’s wife Cicely, as well as a maidservant pushing a laden tea trolley. She had brought a more substantial breakfast than the tea, bread and cheese that they had been snacking at through the night.

In addition to eggs, sausages, bacon, ham, scones, fruit, and butter, there was also the welcome smell of that exotic treat, coffee.

The smells immediately roused the sleepers.

“Coffee?” Rory asked his wife, as she gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Yes. I know that it is usually saved for parties and for Yule. But you know that it is very stimulating when one is tired and sleepy, so I thought that it might not go amiss to use some of it now.”

He nodded at his wife approvingly, and sat forward to take the plate and cup the maidservant handed him.

Merry’s mother handed him a plate. “I’m not hungry, Mum,” he muttered. But just then his stomach rumbled.

“Well, son, part of you is hungry. You need to eat. You will do Pippin no good by starving yourself.”

Tears came to Merry’s eyes. “Pip’s going to be hungry. He hasn’t had anything to eat since luncheon yesterday.” He tried once more to push the plate away. But his mother shook her head, so he took it, and began to pick at the food.

Once he began to actually eat, his appetite returned, and he ended up cleaning his plate. But he had no interest in seconds.

Esmeralda was worried. Merry normally ate three servings at a meal. He was going to make himself sick at this rate.

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Milo Burrows drove the pony-trap over the Bridge. He and his brother Aldo were on their way to Brandy Hall for a bit of business, and he had brought along his wife Peony. It was a chance for her to get away from their active children, whom they had left in the care of her sister. He turned his head and grinned at the fourth passenger.

“They are going to be quite surprised to see you there today,” he said.

“Well, I am surprising myself a bit as well,” said Frodo. “But when I stopped by to see you on my walking trip, I could not pass up the chance to drop in and see Aunt Esme, Uncle Sara and Merry. I can count on Merry at any rate, to be glad to see me. I had no idea that you were heading this way.”

He sat back and closed his eyes, enjoying the early summer sun on his face. Bilbo had been very busy with some mysterious preparations for his upcoming party this fall, which he had decided was to be especially magnificent. He had encouraged Frodo to take one of his little walking journeys.

Frodo had no intention originally of going to Buckland, but when he passed near Frogmorton, he decided to pay a courtesy call to his cousins Milo and Peony Burrows, only to find out that they were preparing to leave for Buckland. On impulse, he asked to join them. He usually visited only in the late fall, and Merry and Pippin had just concluded their annual springtime visit only a few weeks before. They would be mightily surprised to see him. He grinned in anticipation.

“Well,” said Peony, “with the good time we are making, we should be at Brandy Hall in time for luncheon.”

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Esmeralda had made Merry lie down on one of the pallets, with the threat of making him leave if he did not, and though he resisted, he had done so, finally falling into a light and uneasy doze.

Saradoc had rejoined the searchers, his energy renewed by the meal and the coffee.

She sat in one of the old chairs, exhausted. She had been putting it off; if they had not found Pippin soon, she was going to have to ask Rory to send a messenger for his parents. She dreaded the thought of what she could possibly say to Paladin and Tina.

Just then one of the servants came in, looking for her. “Mistress Esmeralda, your guests from the East Farthing have arrived, and I didn’t want to send them up to your apartment with you not there.”

Esmeralda sat up with a start. She had forgot completely that the Burrows were supposed to arrive today. “Where are they?” she asked.

“We are right here, Esmeralda,” said Milo, coming in behind the servant.

“Hullo, Aunt Esme,” said a familiar and welcome voice solemnly. “They told us about Pippin. How can we help?”

Merry sat up instantly. “Frodo!” With a great cry, he sprang across the room and into his older cousin’s arms. “Oh, Frodo!”

He was sure things would be all right now. Frodo was here.

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