Roguccio bowed in the fashion of the balrogues, by pouring cognac on the ground and igniting it. "Our wealth and power grew, and for a time also our wisdom. But then one day, as I returned from smuggling some tabac d'éthélien into Brie (curse the tariffs of Brie!), the first thing I saw was a child of seven or eight months. I uttered a cry of joy. The only regret I had ever had since the murder was the abandonment of the child (it goes without saying that I was rather proud of the murder itself). Rogunta had guessed everything, and had prepared this surprise for me. 'In truth, Rogunta,' I said, weeping tears that pierced like the rapiers of Féanoir, 'you are a good woman, and Providence will bless you with the suitors of Luthienne.'"
"This, I fear, is less exact than your philosophy," said Monte Fato.
"Alas, monseigneur, you are right, and it was the child himself that the Valards charged with my punition. Never did evil nature manifest itself more rapidly; and yet it cannot be said that Trascoletto was ill-raised, for Rogunta treated him like Melcore. Already he showed a propensity for discovering terrible secrets and using them for iniquitous ends before he could even talk; for he was sharp-eyed and keen-eared for all that would cause scandal.
"One day, he might have been five or six years old, we heard about the murder of a local prince of Cardolant, who had a palantir, which was stolen. That evening, Trascoletto came home with a palantir that he claimed a friend named Déagas had given him as a birthday present.
