Chapter 3. Visitors

The ruffians came when Estella and Robin were gathering sticks that had fallen in last night's wind. A week now, she'd been at the forest Bolgers', waiting for the Fox to come and fetch her, and no knowing how much longer it might be. A week of ceaseless practice, until she began to feel she really was Robin's boy cousin. She'd made no careless errors this morning, anyhow, from rising through breakfast time and chores.

'Hoi, little Rob!' came a rough voice, and in spite of herself Estella startled, but Robin grabbed at her sleeve and stood firm, looking up without apparent fear, a smile on his grimy face, for he'd recently wiped away the sweat generated when they'd run a few foot races after pulling weeds from the little kitchen garden, and before starting their wood gathering task.

Estella's face was dirty, too, for she'd pulled weeds and run races with Robin and sweated -- actually sweated! ...something that would have appalled her grandmother no end, and the scolding that would have followed! Her grandmother's voice rang in her ears, even as Robin greeted the three ruffians who'd entered the clearing, in his most cheerful and enthusiastic tones.

Ponies sweat, gentlehobbits perspire, and ladies glow...

A trickle of sweat threatened now to run into her eyes, and she lifted her arm to wipe her sleeve across her forehead, further smearing the dirt on her face.

'...and this is my cousin Twig,' Robin was saying, and he gave Estella a theatrical nudge with his elbow.

Estella gave a creditable bow, cleared her throat, and said in as husky a voice as she could manage, 'At yer service, sirs, and yer families' into the bargain.'

'Knows his manners, does he?' one of the ruffians said with a guffaw.

'Mum taught him,' Robin said, lifting his chin in a superior manner. 'His folk, they live back in the back of the Woody End, and they don't know much.'

'Do too!' Estella protested with a sniff. She drew her sleeve across her nose for good measure, and glared at the little lad, though of course she wasn't really put out at all. As a matter of fact, she was rather impressed with the way he stood up to the ruffians, looking them straight in the eye as if they didn't tower more than twice the lad's height.

'Better pick on someone your own size,' the ruffian advised Robin. 'If looks were fit to kill...'

Robin looked shocked at this, and Estella blinked a little at the wording, but she had her reputation to keep up, and so she cleared her throat again, turned her head, and spat. A week's practice had done her some good -- she could spit as well as Robin, and nearly so well as Hally.

'Twig! Mum says don't spit in the yard!'

Estella merely humphed, standing a little straighter, though what she really wished was to find a good hiding place and use it.

The three ruffians laughed. 'I can see you've got your hands full, Rob!' another of the ruffians said.

'Hullo!' Rosemary's voice came from the doorway of the smial, and all turned to see her. She stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron, a smile upon her face, and not even an anxious smile, but seeming genuine, to Estella's eyes. 'Scar, Three-fingers, Mossy... what brings you to my door this fine day?' She nodded to each in turn, then gestured toward the depths of the woods. 'Hally's not here, if you were hoping for some carving or other...?'

It wouldn't be too hard to remember their names. Scar had a great red mark on one cheek, Three-fingers was missing two digits on his left hand, and Mossy? Well, there was no moss growing on him. It was probably some sort of mannish name, after the manner of the Big Folk who lived in the Breeland, such as she'd heard from a travelling tinker when he'd stopped at the Manse to repair a pot or two.

'Well now,' said the ruffian Rosemary had addressed as "Scar". 'Mossy here remembered...' he cleared his throat and shuffled his feet, and Estella stared in wonder before hurriedly resuming her truculent expression, '...that this would be your baking day, and...'

Rosemary took a deep breath, and her face assumed a look of distress.

Estella had heard her talking with Hally the previous evening, their voices low that the sleeping children might not awaken, but Estella had been awake, and had heard. Eating us out of smial and home. She'd wondered if she were putting a strain on the forest Bolgers' pantry, and resolved to restrain herself. At breakfast that morning, she'd said she wasn't very hungry... even though she was...

'I -- I'm that sorry,' Rosemary stammered. 'But you see...' She stopped and blushed.

The ruffians' pleasant expressions were not quite so pleasant, Estella saw, anticipating refusal. They were used to having their way, after all, and who was Rosemary to refuse them?

'I -- I don't have anything made,' Rosemary confessed, her face falling, cheeks flushed with evident embarrassment. She looked up, holding up a staying hand. 'But you -- you wait right there, and I'll stir up some griddle cakes for you...'

The Men began to smile at this, only to frown as she added, '...we've still some acorn flour to fall back on, though when that's gone I don't know what we'll do...' She twisted her hands in her apron, now with an anxious look. 'Acorn flour cakes are a bit bitter,' she said, her eyes large with concern. 'I wish we had some sweetening or jam or honey for sweetening, but we've run short on everything and food is so dear these days, even if we could find someone to trade with, 'twould take all the wood Hally's cut, and more...'

It was true, breakfast had been somewhat scanty that morning. Estella wondered if her visit, and Freddy's, had strained their cousins' hospitality. They ought to have brought a sack of food with them, in accord with the trying times in the Shire at present...

Scar held up a staying hand of his own. 'You're that short?' he said in an officious tone.

Rosemary dropped her eyes to her apron, which she continued to twist in her hands. 'I -- I'm sorry,' she said in low tones. 'I've always shared freely of my baking, and you've every right to expect it, but truth be told, there won't be any more baking, as things stand...'

Estella clenched her fists at her sides in fury to see Rosemary grovel so, and when she glanced at Robin she saw that he, too, had lost his smile and was biting his lip and blinking hard.

'Well!' Mossy said in disgust. 'What'd we make the hike all the way out here for, then? Surely they've something we can...'

Scar hushed him roughly, and then turned with elaborate politeness to Rosemary. 'I'm that sorry to have bothered you, Missus,' he said, and Estella caught her breath in astonishment, and then bit her lip hard that she might not show it in front of these ruffians. Who knew what they might do?

Rosemary made a courtesy. 'It's no bother,' she said as if breathless. 'Why, with Hally so often away, cutting wood, I would be the first to say it's a pleasure to have company, someone to talk to, besides the little ones, all the day long...'

Scar chuckled. 'You can say that again,' he said. 'You've never turned us away hungry before, Rosie, and you've always been right welcoming and kind... sort of like a little bit of home.'

Rosemary made another courtesy. 'I hate to think of you all, so far from your homes,' she said, 'and lonely for your mothers, I've no doubt.'

Mossy started to snicker at this, but Three-fingers elbowed him hard and gave Rosemary a sketchy bow. 'Very kind, Missus, I'm sure.'

'We'll just be taking our leave,' Scar said.

Rosemary started up from the doorway. 'I -- I can offer you a refreshing drink of cold water from the spring,' she said, her face hopeful at the sudden thought that she would not have to send the Men away completely unsatisfied.

'No -- no,' Scar said, shaking his head, 'very kind of you, Rosie, but we'll manage, I'm sure.' And cuffing Mossy along the side of his head, he said, 'Come along, you louts. We've other fish to be frying.'

Estella exchanged glances with Robin, and held her breath, but the other two Men followed Scar's lead, muttering good-byes and turning to walk out of the clearing the way they had come.

When they were well gone, Robin moved from his frozen stance at last, running to his mother and throwing his arms around her waist. 'Mum! Mum, is it well with you?'

Rosemary had slumped against the doorway, shaking, after the ruffians were gone, but now she straightened to embrace her young son. 'I am well, Robin-lad, well indeed,' she said, and she gestured to Estella to join them, drawing an arm around the boy-clad girl's shoulders and hugging them both. 'You did well, the both of you! They know that Twig, our cousin, is visiting, probably because "his" family is poorer than ours, and they didn't have time or the inclination to ask any more questions... and likely they won't think of it later, now that they've seen him hauling wood with you, Robin. Well done, Twig!'

She took a deep, shuddering breath and then thrust them away again. 'Now, children,' she said briskly, 'I do believe there's wood to be gathering!'