The Hobbit

have made a serious mistake. As for the Master he saw there was nothing
     else for it but to obey the general clamour, for the moment at any rate, and to pretend to believe that Thorin was what he
     said. So he gave up to him his own great chair and set Fili and Kili beside him in places of honour. Even Bilbo was given
     a seat at the high table, and no explanation of where he came in—no songs had alluded to him even in the obscurest way—was
     asked for in the general bustle.
    Soon afterwards the other dwarves were brought into the town amid scenes of astonishing enthusiasm. They were all doctored
     and fed and housed and pampered in the most delightful and satisfactory fashion. A large house was given up to Thorin and his company; boats and rowers were put at their service; and crowds sat
     outside and sang songs all day, or cheered if any dwarf showed so much as his nose.
    Some of the songs were old ones; but some of them were quite new and spoke confidently of the sudden death of the dragon and
     of cargoes of rich presents coming down the river to Lake-town. These were inspired largely by the Master and they did not
     particularly please the dwarves, but in the meantime they were well contented and they quickly grew fat and strong again.
     Indeed within a week they were quite recovered, fitted out in fine cloth of their proper colours, with beards combed and trimmed,
     and proud steps. Thorin looked and walked as if his kingdom was already regained and Smaug chopped up into little pieces.
    Then, as he had said, the dwarves’ good feeling towards the little hobbit grew stronger every day. There were no more groans
     or grumbles. They drank his health, and they patted him on the back, and they made a great fuss of him; which was just as
     well, for he was not feeling particularly cheerful. He had not forgotten the look of the Mountain, nor the thought of the
     dragon, and he had besides a shocking cold. For three days he sneezed and coughed, and he could not go out, and even after
     that his speeches at banquets were limited to “Thag you very buch.”
    In the meanwhile the Wood-elves had gone back up the Forest River with their cargoes, and there was great excitement in the
     king’s palace. I have never heard what happened to the chief of the guards and the butler. Nothing of course was ever said about keys or barrels while
     the dwarves stayed in Lake-town, and Bilbo was careful never to become invisible. Still, I daresay, more was guessed than
     was known, though doubtless Mr. Baggins remained a bit of a mystery. In any case the king knew now the dwarves’ errand, or
     thought he did, and he said to himself:
    “Very well! We’ll see! No treasure will come back through Mirkwood without my having something to say in the matter. But I
     expect they will all come to a bad end, and serve them right!” He at any rate did not believe in dwarves fighting and killing
     dragons like Smaug, and he strongly suspected attempted burglary or something like it—which shows he was a wise elf and wiser
     than the men of the town, though not quite right, as we shall see in the end. He sent out his spies about the shores of the
     lake and as far northward towards the Mountain as they would go, and waited.
    At the end of a fortnight Thorin began to think of departure. While the enthusiasm still lasted in the town was the time to
     get help. It would not do to let everything cool down with delay. So he spoke to the Master and his councillors and said that
     soon he and his company must go on towards the Mountain.
    Then for the first time the Master was surprised and a little frightened; and he wondered if Thorin was after all really a
     descendant of the old kings. He had never thought that the dwarves would actually dare to approach Smaug, but believed they
     were frauds who would sooner or later be discovered and be turned out. He was wrong. Thorin, of course, was really the grandson of the King under the Mountain, and there is no knowing
     what a dwarf will not dare and do for revenge or the recovery of his own.
    But the Master was not sorry at all to let them go. They were expensive to keep, and their arrival had turned things into
     a long holiday in which business was at a standstill. “Let them go and bother Smaug, and see how he welcomes them!” he thought.
     “Certainly, O Thorin Thrain’s son Thror’s son!” was what he said. “You must claim your own. The hour is at hand, spoken of
     old. What help we