“After burying it, he sought to conceal all traces of his nocturnal labours, that there be an end in Terre-moyenne to this menace.
"From out of my shadow a red sword leapt flaming. I threw myself upon him and twirled my firewhip around his waist, ignited it, and burned him then and there, crying:
"'I am Giovanni Roguccio, the keeper of the flame of Utunno. Your steuardship is over, and your death is upon you!' He fled screaming, and was kicked into the cottage by his horse.
"In a second, I had unearthed the coffer; then, I filled the hole, melted the spade, ran out the door, and locked it at double bolt, laughing softly to myself."
"Good!" said the Count. "A little murder accompanied by theft."
"Not theft, your Excellency; restitution," said the balrogue.
"At least the sum was round."
"It was not money; it was a newborn infant, partly asphyxiated, but not yet dead. I healed him after the manner of my people, with balrogue-slime, and took him to a hospice for lost children under the direction of the long-haired nuns of Luthienne.
