'Only seven of these stones ever existed in Terre-moyenne,' I said. 'Not even the Glamhothschilds could afford them. Your friend Déagas is the son of a vendor of sauerkraut, and given the lack of demand for that eatable in Arnor, is hardly far from destitution. Tell me then how you procured it.'
"Trascoletto maintained his lie, accompanying it with details so incredible and inconsistent, that they put the placards of the usenettistes to shame. I was irritated and sought to put the fear of fire into him; but he laughed and said, 'You cannot flame me; you are not my father, and do not have the right.' This reply almost frightened me, and indeed my firewhip dropped to my side without touching the guilty one. From then on, Trascoletto did as he would, and Rogunta's money was wasted on such appalling caprices as playing golfimboules with the heads of smurreaux while becoming intoxicated on mushrooms from the Land of the Caterpillars. I attempted to train him in the severe discipline of contraband; but as he could have anything he wanted from Rogunta, he laughed sarcastically and mocked me in front of his friends."
"Charming young fellow," murmured the Count.
"Alas, the idea of burning a child whose father I had murdered rendered all correction impossible. The best I could do was to advise Rogunta to bury all her wealth beneath the geysers of Ckazade-doûm, and let it lie there till the End - if even that were enough to restrain the shadow.
