The evening meal had been taken to the prisoners. The guards were
tramping away down the passages taking the torch-light with them and
leaving everything in darkness. Then Bilbo heard the king’s butler
bidding the chief of the guards good-night.
     “Now come with me,” he said, “and taste the new wine that has just
come in. I shall be hard at work tonight clearing the cellars of the
empty wood, so let us have a drink first to help the labour.”
     “Very good,” laughed the chief of the guards. “I’ll taste with you,
and see if it is fit for the king’s table. There is a feast tonight
and it would not do to send up poor stuff!”
     When he heard this Bilbo was all in a flutter, for he saw that luck
was with him and he had a chance at once to try his desperate plan. He
followed the two elves, until they entered a small cellar and sat down
at a table
     Luck of an unusual kind was with Bilbo then. It must be potent wine to
make a wood-elf drowsy; but this wine, it would seem, was the heady
vintage of the great gardens of Dorwinion, not meant for his soldiers
or his servants, but for the king’s feasts only, and for smaller
bowls, not for the butler’s great flagons.
     Very soon the chief guard nodded his head, then he laid it on the