The Hobbit

bruised and battered to pieces, and drowned too, for certain!” they muttered. “We thought you had got some sensible
     notion, when you managed to get hold of the keys. This is a mad idea!”
    “Very well!” said Bilbo very downcast, and also rather annoyed. “Come along back to your nice cells, and I will lock you all in again, and you can sit there comfortably and think of a better plan—but I don’t suppose I shall
     ever get hold of the keys again, even if I feel inclined to try.”
    That was too much for them, and they calmed down. In the end, of course, they had to do just what Bilbo suggested, because
     it was obviously impossible for them to try and find their way into the upper halls, or to fight their way out of gates that
     closed by magic; and it was no good grumbling in the passages until they were caught again. So following the hobbit, down
     into the lowest cellars they crept. They passed a door through which the chief guard and the butler could be seen still happily
     snoring with smiles upon their faces. The wine of Dorwinion brings deep and pleasant dreams. There would be a different expression
     on the face of the chief guard next day, even though Bilbo, before they went on, stole in and kind-heartedly put the keys
     back on his belt.
    “That will save him some of the trouble he is in for,” said Mr. Baggins to himself. “He wasn’t a bad fellow, and quite decent
     to the prisoners. It will puzzle them all too. They will think we had a very strong magic to pass through all those locked
     doors and disappear. Disappear! We have got to get busy very quick, if that is to happen!”
    Balin was told off to watch the guard and the butler and give warning if they stirred. The rest went into the adjoining cellar
     with the trapdoors. There was little time to lose. Before long, as Bilbo knew, some elves were under orders to come down and
     help the butler get the empty barrels through the doors into the stream. These were in fact already standing in rows in the middle of the floor waiting to be pushed off. Some of them
     were wine-barrels, and these were not much use, as they could not easily be opened at the end without a deal of noise, nor
     could they easily be secured again. But among them were several others, which had been used for bringing other stuffs, butter,
     apples, and all sorts of things, to the king’s palace.
    They soon found thirteen with room enough for a dwarf in each. In fact some were too roomy, and as they climbed in the dwarves
     thought anxiously of the shaking and the bumping they would get inside, though Bilbo did his best to find straw and other
     stuff to pack them in as cosily as could be managed in a short time. At last twelve dwarves were stowed. Thorin had given
     a lot of trouble, and turned and twisted in his tub and grumbled like a large dog in a small kennel; while Balin, who came
     last, made a great fuss about his air-holes and said he was stifling, even before his lid was on. Bilbo had done what he could
     to close holes in the sides of the barrels, and to fix on all the lids as safely as could be managed, and now he was left
     alone again, running round putting the finishing touches to the packing, and hoping against hope that his plan would come
     off.
    It had not been done a bit too soon. Only a minute or two after Balin’s lid had been fitted on there came the sound of voices
     and the flicker of lights. A number of elves came laughing and talking into the cellars and singing snatches of song. They
     had left a merry feast in one of the halls and were bent on returning as soon as they could.
    “Where’s old Galion, the butler?” said one. “I haven’t seen him at the tables tonight. He ought to be here now to show us
     what is to be done.”
    “I shall be angry if the old slowcoach is late,” said another. “I have no wish to waste time down here while the song is up!”
    “Ha, ha!” came a cry. “Here’s the old villain with his head on a jug! He’s been having a little feast all to himself and his
     friend the captain.”
    “Shake him! Wake him!” shouted the others impatiently.
    Galion was not at all pleased at being shaken or wakened, and still less at being laughed at. “You’re all late,” he grumbled.
     “Here am I waiting and waiting down here, while you fellows drink and make merry and forget your tasks. Small wonder if I
     fall asleep from weariness!”
    “Small wonder,” said they, “when the explanation stands close