The Count took possession of it eagerly. His Eye fell first upon the epigraph, where he read: "And no wonder they're queer, if they live right agin the Vieille-forêt. Glorfindeau was resurrected in order to escort the hobbites through Terre-Dysnée. Therefore, thou shalt seize the teeth of dragons, and tread upon the feet of lions, and oo those awful Orcs, saith the canon."
Placing upon his bosom the relic he had found, he departed for Hobbitonne, though not without giving the concierge a vast domain or two in Harade.
A light yacht, pure and elegant of form, glid in the first vapors of the evening across that immense lake that extends from Fangornes to Minas-Blogot and from Escary to Harade-lointaine, and came to port at the Isle of Monte Fato. Its movement was that of a swan that opens its wings to the wind and seems to glide upon the water. After thirty paces, one had landed. At that moment, a voice caused the helmsman, Meurtrier Morrie, to shudder. "Bonjour, Meurtrier," it said. "You are exact; thank you!"
"It is you, Count!" cried the young hobbite, with a movement that resembled joy, and shaking the hand of Monte Fato with both hands.
