At first the object revealed when the paper was removed seemed to be a beautiful box, about 2 inches by 3 inches, made with old leather in which designs were embossed; fastened with two ornate gold hinges. She removed the object carefully and set it on the bunkhouse table. Visible through the hinged sides were layers of what appeared to be pages, sewn to a spine. She unfastened the hinges.
Perhaps the book that was revealed opened in the middle, because that was how someone always opened it, exposing side by side pages, each bearing difficult to read old writing; each decorated in many colors, touched with gold leaf. As if she was in a recurring childhood dream, on the banks of a painted wide river, arose a brilliantly colored image of a many turreted castle.
In the dream that Merry had had since childhood, she was a child in a boat, floating on a foggy day past miles of fields, until the boat came to a place where on the banks of the river, there were houses and people. Suddenly, high on the riverbank, the fog lifted. The sun came out; a castle emerged.