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Not a syllable passed aloud. They all waited in silence
for the appearance of their visitor. His footsteps were
heard along the gravel path: in a moment he was in the
passage, and in another he was before them.
His countenance, as he lept upon the hill, was not too
happy, even for a Wizard. His complexion was white with
agitation; and he looked as if fearful of his reception,
and conscious that he merited no kind one. Aragorn,
however, conforming, as he trusted, to the wishes of
the Fellowship, by whom he then meant, in the warmth
of his heart, to be guided in every thing, met with
a look of forced complacency, gave him her hand, and
he then knew joy. For it was not the evil Saruman who
stood before them; but it was, in fact, the great Wizard
Gandalf who was, in fact, quite whole and unbroken.