jrt.fellowshipofring-第42节

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decent　and　prosperous；　and　no　more　rustic　than　most　of　their　distant　relatives　Inside。　It　was　not　yet　forgotten　that　there　had　been　a　time　when　there　was　much　ing　and　going　between　the　Shire　and　Bree。　There　was　Bree…blood　in　the　Brandybucks　by　all　accounts。
　　　The　village　of　Bree　had　some　hundred　stone　houses　of　the　Big　Folk；　mostly　above　the　Road；　nestling　on　the　hillside　with　windows　looking　west。　On　that　side；　running　in　more　than　half　a　circle　from　the　hill　and　back　to　it；　there　was　a　deep　dike　with　a　thick　hedge　on　the　inner　side。　Over　this　the　Road　crossed　by　a　causeway；　but　where　it　pierced　the　hedge　it　was　barred　by　a　great　gate。　There　was　another　gate　in　the　southern　er　where　the　Road　ran　out　of　the　village。　The　gates　were　closed　at　nightfall；　but　just　inside　them　were　small　lodges　for　the　gatekeepers。
　　　Down　on　the　Road；　where　it　swept　to　the　right　to　go　round　the　foot　of　the　hill；　there　was　a　large　inn。　It　had　been　built　long　ago　when　the　traffic　on　the　roads　had　been　far　greater。　For　Bree　stood　at　an　old　meeting　of　ways；　another　ancient　road　crossed　the　East　Road　just　outside　（he　dike　at　the　western　end　of　the　village；　and　in　former　days　Men　and　other　folk　of　various　sorts　had　travelled　much　on　it。　Strange　as　News　from　Bree　was　still　a　saying　in　the　Eastfarthing；　descending　from　those　days；　when　news　from　North；　South；　and　East　could　be　heard　in　the　inn；　and　when　the　Shire…hobbits　used　to　go　more　often　to　hear　it。　But　the　Northern　Lands　had　long　been　desolate；　and　the　North　Road　was　now　seldom　used：　it　was　grass…grown；　and　the　Bree…folk　called　it　the　Greenway。
　　　The　Inn　of　Bree　was　still　there；　however；　and　the　innkeeper　was　an　important　person。　His　house　was　a　meeting　place　for　the　idle；　talkative；　and　inquisitive　among　the　inhabitants；　large　and　small；　of　the　four　villages；　and　a　resort　of　Rangers　and　other　wanderers；　and　for　such　travellers　（mostly　dwarves）　as　still　journeyed　on　the　East　Road；　to　and　from　the　Mountains。
　　　It　was　dark；　and　white　stars　were　shining；　when　Frodo　and　his　panions　came　at　last　to　the　Greenway…crossing　and　drew　near　the　village。　They　came　to　the　West…gate　and　found　it　shut；　but　at　the　door　of　the　lodge　beyond　it；　there　was　a　man　sitting。　He　jumped　up　and　fetched　a　lantern　and　looked　over　the　gate　at　them　in　surprise。
　　　'What　do　you　want；　and　where　do　you　e　from？'　he　asked　gruffly。
　　　'We　are　making　for　the　inn　here；'　answered　Frodo。　'We　are　journeying　east　and　cannot　go　further　tonight。'
　　　'Hobbits！　Four　hobbits！　And　what's　more；　out　of　the　Shire　by　their　talk；'　said　the　gatekeeper；　softly　as　if　speaking　to　himself。　He　stared　at　them　darkly　for　a　moment；　and　then　slowly　opened　the　gate　and　let　them　ride　through。
　　　'We　don't　often　see　Shire…folk　riding　on　the　Road　at　night；'　he　went　on；　as　they　halted　a　moment　by　his　door。　'You'll　pardon　my　wondering　what　business　takes　you　away　east　of　Bree！　What　may　your　names　be；　might　I　ask？'
　　　'Our　names　and　our　business　are　our　own；　and　this　does　not　seem　a　good　place　to　discuss　them；'　said　Frodo；　not　liking　the　look　of　the　man　or　the　tone　of　his　voice。
　　　'Your　business　is　your　own；　no　doubt；'　said　the　man；　'but　it's　my　business　to　ask　questions　after　nightfall。'
　　　'We　are　hobbits　from　Buckland；　and　we　have　a　fancy　to　travel　and　to　stay　at　the　inn　here；'　put　in　Merry。　'I　am　Mr。　Brandybuck。　Is　that　enough　for　you？　The　Bree…folk　used　to　be　fair…spoken　to　travellers；　or　so　I　had　heard。'
　　　'All　right；　all　right！'　said　the　man。　'I　meant　no　offence。　But　you'll　find　maybe　that　more　folk　than　old　Harry　at　the　gate　will　be　asking　you　questions。　There's　queer　folk　about。　If　you　go　on　to　The　Pony；　you'll　find　you're　oat　the　only　guests。'
　　　He　wished　them　good　night；　and　they　said　no　more；　but　Frodo　could　see　in　the　lantern…light　that　the　man　was　still　eyeing　them　curiously。　He　was　glad　to　hear　the　gate　clang　to　behind　them；　as　they　rode　forward。　He　wondered　why　the　man　was　so　suspicious；　and　whether　any　one　had　been　asking　for　news　of　a　party　of　hobbits。　Could　it　have　been　Gandalf？　He　might　have　arrived；　while　they　were　delayed　in　the　Forest　and　the　Downs。　But　there　was　something　in　the　look　and　the　voice　of　the　gatekeeper　that　made　him　uneasy。
　　　The　man　stared　after　the　hobbits　for　a　moment；　and　then　he　went　back　to　his　house。　As　soon　as　his　back　was　turned；　a　dark　figure　climbed　quickly　in　over　the　gate　and　melted　into　the　shadows　of　the　village　street。
　　　The　hobbits　rode　on　up　a　gentle　slope；　passing　a　few　detached　houses；　and　drew　up　outside　the　inn。　The　houses　looked　large　and　strange　to　them。　Sam　stared　up　at　the　inn　with　its　three　storeys　and　many　windows；　and　felt　his　heart　sink。　He　had　imagined　himself　meeting　giants　taller　than　trees；　and　other　creatures　even　more　terrifying；　some　time　or　other　in　the　course　of　his　journey；　but　at　the　moment　he　was　finding　his　first　sight　of　Men　and　their　tall　houses　quite　enough；　indeed　too　much　for　the　dark　end　of　a　tiring　day。　He　pictured　black　horses　standing　all　saddled　in　the　shadows　of　the　inn…yard；　and　Black　Riders　peering　out　of　dark　upper　windows。
　　　'We　surely　aren't　going　to　stay　here　for　the　night；　are　we；　sir？'　he　exclaimed。　'If　there　are　hobbit…folk　in　these　pans；　why　don't　we　look　for　some　that　would　be　willing　to　take　us　in？　It　would　be　more　homelike。'
　　　'What's　wrong　with　the　inn？'　said　Frodo。　'Tom　Bombadil　remended　it。　I　expect　it's　homelike　enough　inside。'
　　　Even　from　the　outside　the　inn　looked　a　pleasant　house　to　familiar　eyes。　It　had　a　front　on　the　Road；　and　two　wings　running　back　on　land　partly　cut　out　of　the　lower　slopes　of　the　hill；　so　that　at　the　rear　the　second…floor　windows　were　level　with　the　ground。　There　was　a　wide　arch　leading　to　a　courtyard　between　the　two　wings；　and　on　the　left　under　the　arch　there　was　a　large　doorway　reached　by　a　few　broad　steps。　The　door　was　open　and　light　streamed　out　of　it。　Above　the　arch　there　was　a　lamp；　and　beneath　it　swung　a　large　signboard：　a　fat　white　pony　reared　up　on　its　hind　legs。　Over　the　door　was　painted　in　white　letters：　THE　PRANCING　PONY　by　BARLIMAN　BUTTERBUR。　Many　of　the　lower　windows　showed　lights　behind　thick　curtains。
　　　As　they　hesitated　outside　in　the　gloom；　someone　began　singing　a　merry　song　inside；　and　many　cheerful　voices　joined　loudly　in　the　chorus。　They　listened　to　this　encouraging　sound　for　a　moment　and　then　got　off　their　ponies。　The　song　ended　and　there　was　a　burst　of　laughter　and　clapping。
　　　They　led　their　ponies　under　the　arch；　and　leaving　them　standing　in　the　yard　they　climbed　up　the　steps。　Frodo　went　forward　and　nearly　bumped　into　a　short　fat　man　with　a　bald　head　and　a　red　face。　He　had　a　white　apron　on；　and　was　bustling　out　of　one　door　and　in　through　another；　carrying　a　tray　laden　with　full　mugs。
　　　'Can　we…'　began　Frodo。
　　　'Half　a　minute；　if　you　please！'　shouted　the　man　over　his　shoulder；　and　vanished　into　a　babel　of　voices　and　a　cloud　of　smoke。　In　a　moment　he　was　out　again；　wiping　his　hands　on　his　apron。
　　　'Good　evening；　little　master！'　he　said；　bending　down。　'What　may　you　be　wanting？'
　　　'Beds　for　four；　and　stabling　for　five　ponies；　if　that　can　be　managed。　Are　you　Mr。　Butterbur？'
　　　'That's　right！　Barliman　is　my　name。　Barliman　Butterbur　at　your　service！　You're　from　the　Shire；　eh？'　he　said；　and　then　suddenly　he　clapped　his　hand　to　his　forehead；　as　if　trying　to　remember　something。　'Hobbits！'　he　cried。　'Now　what　does　that　remind　me　of？　Might　I　ask　your　names；　sir？'
　　　'Mr。　Took　and　Mr。　Brandybuck；'　said　Frodo；　'and　this　is　Sam　Gamgee。　My　name　is　Underhill。'
　　　'There　now！'　said　Mr。　Butterbur；　snapping　his　fingers。　'It's　gone　again！　But　it'll　e　back；　when　I　have　time　to　think。　I'm　run　off　my　feet；　but　I'll　see　what　I　can　do　for　you。　We　don't　often　get　a　party　out　of　the　Shire　nowadays；　and　I　should　be　sorry　not　to　make　you　wele。　But　there　is　such　a　crowd　already　in　the　house　tonight　as　there　hasn't　been　for　long　enough。　It　never　rains　but　it　pours；　we　say　in　Bree。
　　　'Hi！　Nob！'　he　shouted。　'Where　are　you；　you　woolly…footed　slow…coach？　Nob！'
　　　'ing；　sir！　ing！'　A　cheery…looking　hobbit　bobbed　out　of　a　door；　and　seeing　the　travellers；　stopped　short　and　stared　at　them　with　great　interest。
　　　'Where's　Bob？'　asked　the　landlord。　'You　don't　know？　Well　find　him！　Double　sharp！　I　haven't　got　six　legs；　nor　six　eyes　neither！　Tell　Bob　there's　five　ponies　that　have　to　be　stabled。　He　must　find　room　somehow。'　Nob　trotted　off　with　a　grin　and　a　wink。
　　　'Well；　now；　what　was　I　going　to　say？'　said　Mr。　Butterbur；　tapping　his　forehead。　'One　thing　drives　out　another；　so　to　speak。　I'm　that　busy　tonight；　my　head　is　going　round。　There's　a　party　that　came　up　the　Greenway　from　down　South　last　night　…　and　that　was　strange　enough　to　begin　with。　Then　there's　a　travelling　pany　of　dwarves　going　West　e　in　this　evening。　And　now　there's　you。　If　you　weren't　hobbits；　I　doubt　if　we　could　house　you。　But　we've　got　a　room　or　two　in　the　north　wing　that　were　made　special　for　hobbits；　when　this　place　was　built。　On　the　ground　floor　as　they　usually　prefer；　round　windows　and　all　as　they　like　it。　I　hope　you'll　be　fortable。　You'll　be　wanting　supper；　I　don't　doubt。　As　soon　as　may　be。　This　way　now！'
　　　He　led　them　a　short　way　down　a　passage；　and　opened　a　door。　'Here　is　a　nice　little　parlour！'　he　said。　'I　hope　it　will　suit。　Excuse　me　now。　I'm　that　b