The North-Thain's Murder by Kathryn Ramage

Merry hadn't gone to make up with Pippin. He was still too angry for it. Instead, when he left Frodo's room, he went to his own room next door; it seemed the best place to be until Frodo had talked Sam out of giving him a good thumping. He could hear their voices murmuring in the grove outside, and when the tone of the conversation turned from serious to playful, he shut his window and curled up in a chair to smoke his own pipe and brood alone.

After awhile, he heard Frodo and Sam come inside. Seeking a breath of fresh air before going to bed himself, Merry reopened his window and climbed up to sit in the curve of the sill. It was after dark now and the house had grown quiet. Candlelight flickered in only a couple of windows, and a lantern had been lit at the Hall's front door.

Just as Merry was about to go back inside, he caught a flicker of movement in the shadows cast by this lantern: someone was in the Thain's Hall garden. It might be the gardener, out late, or one of the Tooks who had a legitimate reason for wandering the garden at this hour, but there was something furtive about their manner that made Merry think otherwise. Quickly and quietly, he dropped from his windowsill into the tall grass beneath and crawled until he was within the grove of trees near Frodo's window.

"Fro-" he began to call his cousin's name, then thought the better of it. No, best not to interrupt whatever Frodo and Sam were up to. He could manage this on his own and, if it turned out to be anything interesting, he'd tell Frodo about it in the morning.

Keeping low, Merry crept forward cautiously and went down the hillside into the garden. The person he had seen was crouched under the laburnum tree and seemed to be scuffling the loose leaves beneath in search of something in the darkness. He was very close before this person became aware of him.

"Oh!" a female voice cried out softly in surprise, and she stood upright. It was Persifilla. Her brown eyes were wide and she held something clutched in her hand. "Oh, it's you, Master Brandybuck. How you startled me! Whatever are you doing going about the garden so late?" she asked him before he could ask her.

"I saw someone moving about, and thought I'd best have a look," Merry answered. "What're you looking for, Mrs. Took?" He glanced down at her tightly closed hand. "Did you find it?"

"Yes, I did, thank you."

"What is it?" Merry pressed. "May I see?"

"It's nothing, really," she answered reluctantly, then held out her hand and unfurled her fingers to show him what lay within her grasp: three seed pods. "These are what Mr. Baggins was talking about this afternoon, aren't they?" she asked. "They're like the ones he said somebody put in Granduncle Brabantius's wine?"

"Yes, that's right," said Merry. "Why did you want them?"

"I wanted to be sure."

"Sure? Of what?"

"That they were the same," Persifilla explained. "I've seen others like these before, inside the house. Oh, Merry, please don't make me say where!"

Merry was rather bemused and not entirely certain he believed her. "You know I must ask," he answered.

"And you'll tell Mr. Baggins?"

"I'll have to do that too," Merry held out a hand. "May I have those, please? I'll give them to Frodo tomorrow, and he'll want to know how I came by them. If you don't want to tell me yourself, he'll ask you more about this in the morning. Would you rather talk about it then?"

Persifilla placed the three pods in his outstretched palm, and seemed to struggle with the choice that had been placed before her. "No," she said. "I'd rather tell you." But she didn't answer immediately.

"Where did you see pods like these before?" Merry prompted.

"In the chest of drawers in Ulfidius's dressing-room!"
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