He hesitated for a moment, realizing that to match his puny force against that massive monolith would be the folly of a lone balrogue that durst measure his strength against that of the Valards in the War of Spleen. Then the moon opened on the horizon, and the old thrush shrieked as a light beamed down, illuminating a keyhole in the stone. Suddenly recalling the instructions given in Sauron's will, Samouard boiled the thrush in his Monte-Oiolosseo wine. After a delightful repast, he then – following Frodia's instructions to the tengwa – used the remains of the thrush to make a very serviceable key.
He pushed and the door opened. And he beheld… nothing but igneous rock. So it had all been a chimaera; or possibly Elrond had arriven and seized the treasure for himself. But then Samouard remembered that the treasure was in the furthest corner of the second opening: an opening so narrow that it was veritably a crack of doom. Another might have despaired in that subterranean abysm; for Samouard, on account of his living for years in the sepulchre of the Château des Locqueholles, no darkness existed. Having penetrated this opening, he gazed at a shining mound of glittering splendour. And, did any doubt of the abbé's veracity remain, it must have been removed altogether by the portrait of the Eye of Sauron that overhung the cornucopia of wealth. Gamgès recognised it easily; the wise Frodia had drawn it so many times!
