Old Hamphât sprang forward, supplicating in tears so eloquent that even the gendarme was touched, and said kindly though firmly, "Mon cher ami, permit that I calm your apprehensions. He will according to all probability have simply forgotten to register the pipe-weed cargo at the shirriferie, and will be set at liberty directly."
"Why yes," said old Hamphât. "He said he was bringing me tobacco from Isengard!" And so the old hobbite was, at least for the moment, comforted, though he could not forgo one last paternal admonition: "Do not forget your waistcoat, mon fils!"
The grief of Rosédès was not so easily allayed. "Adieu, adieu, dearest Samouard!" she cried, extending her arms from the balcony like the exiles of Valinor yearning for the hither shore, from which they must depart for ever.
"Farewell, Rosédès!" cried Samouard in return. "We shall meet again soon, et c'est un fait, ça!" Hélas, it was not.
There was a silence, and then every Morrie, Cotolon, Gamgès, Sacqueville-Danglars, and Buttrebeurrousse began talking at once. It was generally agreed that the pleasantry was de fort mauvais goût, and much Mordeaux and caviar would be required to cure the guests of their annoyance. It must however be admitted that Sacqueville-Danglars got over whatever annoyance he may have felt (if any) remarkably quickly, and his conspiratorial wink directed at Buttrebeurrousse and Pippand betrayed his true feelings..
