Хоббит
Not at Home
Eachnowgrippedalightedtorch;andastheygazed,firstononesideandthenonanother,theyforgotfearandevencaution.Theyspokealoud,andcriedouttooneanother,astheyliftedoldtreasuresfromthemoundorfromthewallandheldtheminthelightcaressingandfingeringthem.FiliandKiliwerealmostinmerrymood,andfindingstillhangingtheremanygoldenharpsstrungwithsilvertheytookthemandstruckthem;andbeingmagical(andalsountouchedbythedragon,whohadsmallinterestsinmusic)theywerestillintune.Thedarkhallwasfilledwithamelodythathadlongbeensilent.Butmostofthedwarvesweremorepractical;theygatheredgemsandstuffedtheirpockets,andletwhattheycouldnotcarryfarbackthroughtheirfingerswithasigh.Thorinwasnotleastamongthese;butalwayshesearchedfromsidetosideforsomethingwhichhecouldnotfind.ItwastheArkenstonebuthespokeofityettonoone.
Nowthedwarvestookdownmailandweaponsfromthewalls,andarmedthemselves.RoyalindeeddidThorinlook,cladinacoatofgold-platedrings,withasilverhaftedaxeinabeltcrustedwithscarletstones."Mr.Baggins!"hecried."Hereisthefirstpaymentofyourreward!Castoffyouroldcoatandputonthis!"
WiththatheputonBilboasmallcoatofmail,wroughtforsomeyoungelf-princelongago.Itwasofsilver-steelwhichtheelvescallmithril,andwithitwentabeltofpearlsandcrystals.
