"Yes," said Morrie. "That was 5 Yavannidor, the day my father was miraculously saved, and I always celebrate by some heroic action, usually involving damsels and chariot-tracks."
"When is the nuncheon?" asked De Brie rather abruptly.
"At precisely 10:13 a.m., and not a minute sooner," replied the Viscount. "I too await a savior, one of the great benefactors of humanity, who saved me from the vanditti, of all hobbite-banes the most deadly, save the One who sits in the Banc National d'Arnor."
"He ransomed you then?" inquired Château-Renard.
"He was armed with more weapons than Arwenne, la Princesse guerrière," suggested Boyen-Xènes-Baguines, showing that his appreciation of Racine was almost equal to his familiarity with pipe-weed.
"He did not even carry the knitting-needles of Ginjoure, the other Princesse guerrière," said Réginard. "He said a few words, and the chief of the vanditti cowered in terror, set me free, and even gave Arafrantz his hat – which was assuredly the most chic I have ever seen a bandit wear."
"Ah, was he Gandault, then, this man?"
