Villefaramir looked at Gamgès closely. It was obvious that the halflingue was speaking the truth, for his nose did not grow. Moreover, Gamgès's account of the interrupted wedding feast struck a sympathetic chord in Villefaramir's bosom; and he pondered the sensation he would make at his own party by elaborating on the paradox that summoned him from his own felicity to destroy that of another. This thought, and the expectation of Finduilette's gratitude at his mercy, rendered the steuard's physiognomy so joyous, that Gamgès smiled in return.
"Do you have any enemies?" inquired M. de Villefaramir. "Perhaps your cargo contained something of value, and such things rarely breed peace among confederates, as is shown time and again in the works of Baguin."
"I have no enemies, monsieur," replied Gamgès. "Although Pippand seemed a bit fâché during the wedding feast; perhaps the mushrooms did not agree with him. And Sacqueville-Danglars once challenged me to a duel when I complained that he was taking more than his share of spoons... That is all that comes to mind."
Villefaramir nodded sagely. "My friend, I believe you to be innocent; yet I must do my duty. What do you have to say about the letter you were going to deliver from Sharcoléon?"
"I was doing so at the behest of my captain on his deathbed, monsieur le steuard," said Gamgès. "Never disobey your captain's last wishes, never, never, never, never; that was my right rule, the unshakable principle of my life."
