“I’ve been robbed!” Lalia’s furious screams of anger could be heard all up and down the corridors of the South wing of the Great Smials.  Doors flew open and hobbits rushed in the direction of her shrieks.  “There’s a *thief* here!”

Hortensia Hornblower, one of Uncle Isembold’s grand-daughters, shrank back, and tried to avoid covering her ears.  Just after supper, Lalia had pulled her aside, and told her she wanted her opinion on the “little trinket” she was planning to give the Thain on her upcoming birthday.  When it was not to be found where Lalia had expected to find it, all chaos broke loose.

Fortinbras was the first to arrive, and tried vainly to calm his distraught wife.  Lalia was having none of it.  “That dagger was very valuable!  It was Dwarven work, with real pearl and silver!  Someone has stolen it!”

Isumbras pushed his way into the mathom room.  “What else is missing?” he asked grimly.

“How should *I* know--” Lalia began indignantly, before suddenly realizing to whom she spoke.  “I, I mean the only thing I noticed was that the item I put here is gone.”

The Thain sighed.  His daughter-in-law’s scheming had insured that he already knew what she planned to give him.  He could scarcely say that he thought it dreadfully inappropriate and in very bad taste.  What in the world would he need with a weapon like a dagger?  But it *was* very valuable, and there were many other valuables here.  He cast an eye over the room, and noticed with relief that everything else seemed in order. 

The crowd around the door had grown, and young Ferumbras came forward.  “But it was here,” he said.  “This afternoon, before tea.  It was here then.  I saw it.”

Pearl, who stood nearby with her parents, nodded.  “It was.”

“What were you doing in here, lad?” Isumbras asked his grandson.

“I brought Pearl in here, to show her the magic shirt studs…” his voice trailed off as he realized everyone was staring at him.

Lalia stepped forward, eyes blazing.  “You brought her in here?” she asked.  Suddenly, her hand shot out like a striking snake, and grabbed Pearl by the arm.  “What have you *done* with it, you little thief?”

Pearl gasped, and flinched back as though she had been struck.  Adalgrim and Periwinkle stepped up.  Paladin twisted in his mother’s arms and stared with wide eyes.

“Take your hands off my daughter!” said Adalgrim, his voice tight with fury. 

“How dare you!” said Periwinkle in a low fierce voice, her face nearly in Lalia’s.  Paladin whimpered and hid his face in her shoulder.

Lalia dropped hold of Pearl, but she didn’t step back.  “Obviously she stole it!”

“NO!” Pearl shouted.  “I didn’t *touch* your beastly dagger!”

“Of course you took it!  Who else could it have been?”

Pearl burst into tears.  Her father turned to her.  “Pearl, go back to our guest rooms and wait for us.  We will deal with this.”

“Don’t let that little thief out of your sight!”

But Pearl had turned and run back down the passage, with everyone staring after her.

 She ran into the apartment, slamming the door behind her, and began to pace back and forth, trying to understand.  *She* hadn’t taken it, and she knew Ferumbras had not.  Someone else *must* have come in afterwards.  But who would believe her?

She wanted to go home.  The more she thought about it, the more she just wanted to go *home*.  She didn’t want to be here with all these hobbits who thought she was a thief.

She *could* go home.  She could.  It was late, true, but she knew the way back to Whitwell very well indeed.  And it wouldn’t have to take her that long.  She could use one of the ponies.

After all, they already thought she was a thief.

_____________________________________________

Isumbras sighed wearily, and put a hand to his forehead.  The scene in the mathom room had degenerated into a shouting match between Lalia and Periwinkle, and Adalgrim had threatened to take his family home at once if he did not get an apology to Pearl, which Lalia was firmly refusing to do, convinced that the lass and no other, had taken the cursed dagger.

“That’s enough!” The Thain finally shouted.  He caught sight of his nephew Sigismond.  “Siggy, please summon Mistress Fern.  We will find out if anyone else might have been in this room.”

Sigismond nodded, and left to get the head housekeeper.  She would know if any of the servants have been in here since the children were.”

Lalia flushed.  It had never occurred to her to ask if anyone else had been in the room.  But it still seemed likely that Pearl was the culprit.  If the Thain had taken her advice about a lock, they’d not be having this problem.  She glanced at all the hostile faces glaring at her.  None of them believed the child had done it.  She spotted Bilbo Baggins in the crowd, looking at her as though she were something nasty on the bottom of his foot.  How dare he!

But close questioning of Mistress Fern revealed that it was unlikely that any servants had been near the place.  They had all been very busy at their tasks.

“See!” said Lalia, “that just proves it.”

Bilbo shook his head.  “It proves nothing.  Has this room been searched?  Thoroughly searched?”  He caught the Thain’s eye, and Isumbras looked startled.

“Such a waste of time!” Lalia exclaimed. 

“I will get some neutral parties to search,” said Isumbras.  He glanced about.  “Flambard, Sigismund, Bilbo, Gorbadoc, if you would.  The rest of us will move out of the way.”  He shooed everyone else into the corridor, though Lalia stayed right at his elbow, staring into the room with a gimlet eye.

The four searchers divided up the room, and moved about it methodically.  Bilbo carefully opened up the various boxes and caskets, and Flambard, who was a bit taller than the others, reached up to run his hand along the upper shelves.  Time passed, and several of the hobbits who had been watching wandered off, but Pearl’s family, Lalia, Fortinbras, and Ferumbras all remained.

It was Gorbadoc who found it, as he crawled about looking beneath every cabinet and chest.  He drew it forth and held it up towards the Thain, an implacable look on his face.

All eyes turned to Lalia.

She blanched.

“I believe that you owe Pearl an apology,” said Isumbras. 

Adalgrim turned to Primrose, who, with Primula and Peridot had been huddled anxiously together.  “Primmie, go and fetch your sister.”

Casting a scornful look at Lalia, Primrose turned and raced towards the guest quarters, and after only a moment’s hesitation, Peridot and Primula were at her heels. 

But in just a few moments, Primrose returned.  “Mother! Father! She’s not there!”  She waved a note at them.  Adalgrim snatched it from her.

Dear Mother and Father,

I’m not going to stay where people think I steal.  I am only borrowing a pony, not stealing it.  I am going home.

Good-bye,

Pearl

Periwinkle looked at the note, and burst into tears, and Paladin began to wail.  Adalgrim gathered them close, patting his wife’s back.  “There now, dear.  She knows the way home.  I’ll go after her.”

“But it’s dark!”

And that was Adalgrim’s own fear.  But he swallowed it.  He spotted his Aunt Mirabella, who had been waiting for Gorbadoc to complete the search.  “Aunt Mira, would you see Winkie and the children settled for the night?”

“But--”

“Think of the children, dearest.”  Adalgrim kissed top of his wife’s head.  “Think of the little one you carry.”

Periwinkle allowed Mirabella to draw her away, and Adalgrim turned to the Thain.  “I’m going after her,” he said.

Isumbras nodded, and then Bilbo spoke up.  “I’ll come with you, Chop,” he said firmly.

“So will I,” added Sigismond.

The Moon had risen by the time the three of them rode away, back towards Whitwell.

______________________________________

In the Thain’s family quarters, Lalia fumed.  Her father-in-law had told her in no uncertain terms that she had behaved outrageously, jumping to conclusions and making accusations without reason.  Fortinbras had stared at her coldly, and Ferumbras had refused to allow her to embrace him and kiss him good-night, giving her a reproachful look before heading to his room.  Everyone was against her.

The dagger had been missing from where it belonged! What *else* was she supposed to think?  How on earth did it come to be on the floor?  And now of course, everyone blamed her because the little chit had run off.  If Pearl had stayed where she had been sent, this would all be over with now.  Well, she wasn’t going to sit up all night.  The child’s apology would have to wait until tomorrow.

“Begonia!” She called for her chambermaid.  It was time to get ready for bed.

________________________________________

The three hobbits rode quickly; Adalgrim felt an unaccountable sense of urgency, he knew not why.  After all, Pearl *did* know the way home, and she *was* a good rider.

Suddenly, Siggy pulled up.  “What’s that?” he asked, pointing ahead.

It was a pony, riderless and limping.

Adalgrim could feel the blood drain from his face, and his heart pounded.  There was a roaring in his ears. 

“Steady, old friend,” said Bilbo, reaching out to him.  The three of them made their way reluctantly towards the pony.

________________________________________________

It was after first breakfast when they returned.  Adalgrim cradling his daughter’s limp form in his arms, the tears running freely down his face.  Bilbo was leading his pony, for the distraught father had no attention for it.  Sigismond was leading the lame pony, following slowly behind.

_________________________________________________

It was Bilbo who told of how they’d found Pearl’s body, its location making the tragedy clear--how she’d tried to jump a low hedge in the dark, and the pony had missed its footing.  Her head had struck a stone, and her neck had been broken.  The healers said either injury would have been fatal, and it was hard to say which had killed her.

Lalia found herself blamed for the whole debacle, and as a result, she did not even celebrate her birthday at all that year. 

The Whitwell Tooks went home for the funeral.  Periwinkle went into labour early, and their daughter Esmeralda was born a month and a half early.  Periwinkle never returned to the Great Smials, and Adalgrim returned only for Isumbras’ funeral three years later.  It was many years before any of his children returned there.

Primula Brandybuck never rode a pony again.

No one ever knew how the dagger had come to be beneath the cabinet.  It remained a mystery ever after.