Constable Calamint knocked on the round door on the back of the long hallway where the visitor from Bree was staying, according to Saradoc Brandybuck. It was morning, so the hour was now more suitable for a social call. There was no answer, so he knocked again, with his fist this time.
”Who’s there?” asked a timid, frightened voice of a man.
”I would like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.”
”Who are you? Are you a Ranger?”
”Say what again?” said Calamint. ”I most certainly am not. I am Constable Calamint, from the Bree Watch. Now open the door, please!”
”I don’t want to talk to you!” the voice from the inside shouted. ”Go away!”
”Now look…” Calamint raised his voice, but then forced himself to shut his mouth, painfully aware of the many eyes on his back, the eyes of the hobbits who had started to gather in the hallway to watch the spectacle. He had to remind himself again that the Bree Watch had no authority in Buckland. In Bree or Combe or Staddle he could have amassed a few guards and force the man to open the door, busting it in if necessary. But here he was just a visitor from Bree, and a guest in the Brandy Hall.
There was a sudden murmur among the crowd of hobbits, and Calamint turned to see what was causing it. He saw two grim-looking, hooded fellows in gray and dark green cloaks and tunics. Calamint recognized the star-shaped cloak-clasps. They were of the mysterious ranger-folk of the north, or ’Watchers’, as some people called them. The Rangers were generally distrusted in Bree, where some believed them to be brigands, spies, or worse. Calamint shared the distrust of his townsfolk towards these secretive wanderers to a point, though he had had a few interesting conversations with the late Hodhion, and he was inclined to believe that whatever the Rangers wanted, common banditry was not on their agenda.
The Rangers stopped before Calamint and looked at him silently.
”What is the meaning of this?” Calamint asked. ”What do you want?”
”We want to talk to the man inside”, said the Ranger to the left. ”We have some questions for him. You should go downstairs. I believe Ferumbras and Paladin are getting ready to leave Buckland now. It would not hurt if you escorted them to the ferry. Only as a precaution.”
”There is a plot to kidnap Paladin Took! There is…”
”We know”, the Ranger interrupted. ”It is being handled as we speak. Do not worry.”
”Delioron, a spy from Gondor…”
”Yes”, said the Ranger. ”We know all about it.”
Shrugging, Calamint started walking away. After a few paces he turned and addressed the men:
”Are you here to avenge what happened to Hodhion?”
”Not only that.”
Calamint watched as the Rangers knocked on the door. There was a short exchange of words with the man inside, then the door cracked open. The Rangers slipped in, and the door closed behind them. Calamint thought of sneaking to the door to eavesdrop, but the many hobbits gathered in the hallway were now muttering and whispering at each other, and staring at both Calamint and the door. Feeling frustrated, Calamint threw his hands up in the air and walked downstairs.
”You can’t get any more higher, than the sunset in the Shire…”
The spirits of the hobbits were high in the Great Hall, where a smattering of hobbits had gathered around Paladin and Ferumbras, the cronies and the well-wishers, all eager to shake hands and make a lasting impression on the Thain. Perhaps the most lasting impression was made by a middle-aged female hobbit, already in her cups at this early hour, hollering discordantly and off-key, but her thin voice full of emotion:
”Summer is turning to fall, it is time we get two feet tall…”
Parsnip, Liverleaf and Tuftweed were sitting at a corner table, throwing nervous glances at each other. Their nervousness was contagious, as Calamint suddenly felt anxious for no obvious reason.
