Chapter 43. A Drink with Jam and Bread

It is about thirty miles from Hobbiton to Whitwell, give or take a few, and of course Whittacres farm is to the north of Whitwell, on the road to Waymoot, so the cart had rather less than thirty miles to travel. The ponies were fast, and suited to trot the day long, and since there was just room for Lop to ride at the hobbits' feet, they didn't have to worry about him keeping up, what with his new-healed paw. They ate second breakfast and elevenses in the cart, but even with a stop for luncheon at the Brass Farthing in Waymoot, Bilbo and the lads were well in time for tea as the ponies turned off the road and onto the long farm lane.

Of course Lop had been missed. The chewed rope was much-exclaimed over by the hired hobbit who came out of the byre to greet them, and the dog was in for a good scolding, or would have been, had he not jumped down from the cart and remained in Pippin's company.

'So there you are, you scoundrel!' one of the hired hobbits said. 'Followed young Pip, did you? What're you doin', gallivantin' all o'er the countryside when you're supposed to be restin' that-there foot o' yourn?' He was righter than he knew; he thought the dog had followed the lad to the Bankses' farm, and had he known the truth of the matter he'd have been horrified.

Lop rested his shaggy head on Pippin's shoulder, and the lad reached up to fondle a silky ear as the stream of words continued. 'Good Lop,' he whispered, and the dog sighed gustily.

'Now then, Dack,' Bilbo said, interrupting the scolding, 'Where's Paladin? Did he get my message?'

'Truth be told, he expected you earlier, sir,' the hired hobbit said, snatching his hat belatedly from his head and giving a little bow to the visitors, 'and was going to send a message, but then, the family's been so upset...'

'I can only imagine,' Bilbo said, exchanging glances with Frodo.

'Not much of a tea to welcome you, I'm afraid, Mr. Bilbo,' Dack said, 'what with the lad dyin' and all...'

'Dying!' Bilbo and Frodo exclaimed together, with Pippin's squeak echoing close behind. 'What lad?' Bilbo said quickly, his hand tightening on Frodo's arm. Had something happened to Merry...?

Dack unhappily twisted his hat in his hands. 'That's right, sir,' he said, and gulped. 'I'd forgot that the news might not've spread far, though I imagined everyone knew about it, what with the healer not leavin' the lad's side these past two days...'

'What lad?' Bilbo repeated, stronger.

'Young Ferdi,' Dack said. 'Fell outen a tree, trying to help young Master Brandybuck down when he got stuck up, and...'

Pippin gave a small, distressed chirp, and Lop gently licked his ear in an attempt at comfort.

'Come along, Frodo,' Bilbo said, turning towards the smial. 'Merry must be quite beside himself, and Dinny and Stellie as well... That was Stelliana we saw, riding as if the white wolves were after her, I'm sure of it now...' Turning back to the hired hobbit, he said, 'Thank you, Dack.'

Dack put his cap back on his head and pulled at the brim, then took up Lop's rope. 'Go on in, young Pip, and greet your parents. And you, sir,' he said to the dog, giving a tug on the rope, 'you're for the sheep on the morrow, so you had better take some rest while you may...'

At the lovely word "sheep" the dog stopped straining after his young master and looked up at the hired hobbit with an eager wag of his tail, his eyes dancing with delight. Despite the gravity of the situation, a small smile quirked the corners of Dack's mouth and he reached down to rub at the lop-leaning ear. 'You auld terror,' he said. 'Good thing you're fit enough to work the sheep tomorrow... keep you out of all sorts of trouble, I'd say...'

They walked into the kitchen, to a family sitting at tea that was little more than drink with bread and jam, and at that, no one seemed to be eating or drinking.

Paladin jumped to his feet. 'Bilbo!' he said. 'I meant to send a message...'

'I heard the news,' Bilbo said, waving the rest to stay seated.

Eglantine came in, carrying a tray of bread and jam, meant for those watching in the sickroom, but for the fact that Woodruff had sent her away again. The healer was still denying young Ferdi anything but sips of water, and did not want to torture the teen with the sight and smell of food. Eglantine stopped short in consternation at seeing Bilbo. 'Oh!' she said uncertainly. 'We weren't expecting...' She looked at the table, and back to her visitor, gulped, and added, 'Half a moment, and we'll have things set up properly...'

'No need to sit in the parlour or the dining room for that matter, on our account,' Bilbo said firmly, moving to take the tray from Eglantine. He laid the platter of bread and jam on the table and dealt out three of the plates, saucers, cups, spoons and knives before setting the tray aside. 'There!' he said, and bowed to Paladin. 'We thank you for your hospitality, Dinny.' His nostrils widened as he inhaled, deeply and with obvious appreciation. 'Mmmm,' he said with a blissful expression, though carefully not looking at Eglantine--that would be overdoing it, he deemed, 'fresh-baked bread and homemade strawberry preserves... what a feast for an old bachelor like me! Frodo, I ought to bring you here oftener--fatten you up a bit!' To his satisfaction, out of the corner of his eye, as he took his seat Bilbo saw some of the tension go out of Eglantine.

Frodo bowed hastily and sat himself down beside Bilbo, and Pippin took his place.

Giving in to the inevitable, Eglantine poured tea into their cups and said to Pippin, affecting cheer, 'Did you have a nice visit, dear?'

The sight of food had put worry out of his young head for the moment. Mouth full of jam sandwiches, not seeming to notice that no one else was eating, Pippin enthused, 'Wonderful! Mmph... There was a conjurer! And he pulled a teapot from his hat!'

'That's the Bankses all over again,' Paladin said, taking a sip of his tea. 'Feeding wanderers at the kitchen door... the word's gone round, and who knows what sort of undesirable folk might be hanging about...'

Merry sat beside Eglantine, his eyes on his plate. He'd looked up briefly when Frodo had entered, but spoke no greeting. Even when Frodo kicked him under the table, he remained buried in guilt and grief. Bilbo, noticing, touched Frodo's arm and shook his head ever so slightly. Here at table was not the time to deal with it. Afterwards, now...

'Stelliana's here?' Bilbo said, directing the conversation.

'Yes, she and "Old Ferdibrand" arrived earlier,' Esmeralda said. 'They rode like the wind, to get here from Bridgefields so quickly.'

'We saw them on the road,' Bilbo said.

A younger version of Ferdinand entered, then... his younger brother, for whom he'd named his son. "Old Ferdi", he was called, and Ferdinand's son was called "Young Ferdi", and the nephew copied his uncle in everything: laughter, jest, song and lightness of heart. However, "Old Ferdi" was not light of heart at this moment; in fact, he was so subdued as to be nearly unrecognisable. Trainer of ponies like his brother, and a stickler for their "proper use", he'd pushed his mount and Stelliana's to their limits, racing to Young Ferdi's bedside. For all the good it would do... They'd raced the wind to reach Whittacres, and now all they could do was sit by and listen to the slow ticks of the clock as his precious nephew slipped away.

'More boiled water,' he said quietly, and Eglantine hurried to fill the pitcher he bore.

'How is the lad?' Bilbo asked him.

"Old Ferdi" shook his head, and the glimmer of tears shone in his eyes.