"Come on in my dears, you must be ready to drop after walking all that way," said Mrs Brankin ushering the little troop into her kitchen.

The hobbit house - for the Brankin's home was not a traditional hole but one of the mannish houses common in this part of the Shire - smelled of fresh baking. Pippin was almost dizzy with delight as he dropped into a chair and accepted the warm honey cake offered by Ned Brankin.

By the time Pippin finished his second slice of cake, Mrs Brankin was carefully re-bandaging Goldie's bitten hand while Theo described every single detail of the day to Ned, the Brankin's son, who was almost of age. Farry was petting the Brankin's rather large dog, which was slavering all over him in return. Pippin glanced at Merry and noticed that he was absently pushing his cake around his plate.

"Don't you want it?" he asked.

Merry gave him a warning glare and forked two mouthfuls in quick succession, before pushing the plate across to Pippin with a sigh.

For an hour or so the young visitors made polite conversation with their hosts - or at least Farry and Merry made polite conversation. Theo was almost nodding off at the table; Goldie looked slightly sullen and occasionally stretched the fingers of her injured hand as if to make sure they were still working. Pippin studied his brother. Something was wrong, he was certain of that, although Merry was making a convincing show of pretending that he was a carefree young gentlehobbit who'd had an enjoyable day's walk.

Finally they were bundled off to bed. Goldie was given a room to herself, Theo and Farry were to share, as were Merry and Pippin. They didn't chatter much as they prepared for bed and the exhausted Pippin fell into an easy sleep within a few moments of clambering under the covers.

Some time later he was woken suddenly by a sound - a gasp or a sob perhaps, he thought - from the next bed.

In the darkness Pippin could hear his brother tossing and turning and after a few minutes was certain that Merry was awake.

"What's wrong Merry?" he whispered.

"S'nothing Pip," snapped Merry. "Go back to sleep."

Pippin lay awake for a few minutes more, wondering whether to try again. In his imagination he tried out several more opening gambits to get Merry to tell him what had so upset him, but the imagined conversation soon merged into a dream of walking on to the Blue Mountains to see the dwarves. He fell fast asleep, oblivious that his brother still lay wide awake and rigid with misery in the next bed.