Chapter the Second. In which more Unexpected Guests are announced, and the Sackville-Bagginses suddenly remember a Previous Engagement.

 ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ he said, jumping up from his chair. Well, old fellow, how are you going to get out of this dragon’s clutches?

He hurried to the door and yanked it open with a sense of relief. ‘Farmer Cotton!’ he cried, seizing that good hobbit’s arm and pumping his hand with vigour. ‘Come in! Come in!’

The good farmer allowed himself to be drawn through the door. ‘Thankee, Mr Baggins,’ he said. ‘I cannot stay... I just came to bring a message from your kinfolk.’

 More inconvenient kinfolk. None could be quite so inconvenient as the S.-B.’s however. ‘Yes?’ Bilbo said, putting on a cheerful expression. He couldn’t blame the farmer for being the bearer of bad news.

 ‘The Tooks,’ Tom Cotton said gravely. ‘Paladin Took was driving his family through Bywater, on their way to the Wilds o’ Buckland, I hear, and he fell right off o’ the waggon seat and into the Road. Like to have kilt himself, I heard.’

 ‘Fell off the waggon seat?’ Bilbo said, stunned. Paladin was not the type to be driving under the influence of drink, and besides, it was only teatime! He might have stopped at the Green Dragon for a hot toddy, perhaps, to ward away the chill before proceeding, but... falling off his seat?

 ‘The innkeeper don’t want to take him in,’ Tom said unhappily, twisting his hat in his hands, ‘seein’ as he has a high fever, and it’s Yuletide and all,’ he looked at Bilbo’s face and added hastily, ‘though he’ll take him, don’t mistake my meaning, sir, he’ll take him. But it’ll wreak havoc, you know, what with his best business being at Yuletide, sort o’ carries him through the slow times that come after, you know, and nobody’ll come in if there’s fever in the house...’

 ‘I quite understand,’ Bilbo said, nodding vigorously.

 ‘And so,’ Tom ploughed on, ‘seein’ as how you’re his kin, I said I’d trot up the Hill to ask if you might take them in... his missus wanted to drive him home, but it’s a long ways, in this chill, and like to kill him. We’d take him in ourselves but we’re full up at our house with visiting relations and all...’

 ‘I quite understand!’ Bilbo repeated. ‘You did the right thing, Master Cotton. Have a cup of tea to warm you, and then trot right back down the Hill, if you please, and tell them to bring Paladin and his family on. I’ll air out the guest rooms and have everything ready by the time they arrive.’

He brought the good farmer to the kitchen, poured him a mug of tea and sugared it well, and poured his own mug to keep Tom company. The tea, drunk standing up from one of his everyday mugs, tasted better than anything in a fine china cup with the likes of Lobelia for company.

After seeing Farmer Cotton out the door again, he returned to the parlour to meet Lobelia’s inquiring look. The food had all vanished away, but Bilbo hadn’t had much appetite, really, after his “guests” had arrived, and now he had too much to do in way of preparations to worry about eating.

 ‘It seems my close cousin is taken ill while journeying,’ Bilbo said, ‘and he’s in need of a bed and nursing. What a good thing you’re here, Lobelia! A feminine hand will be most comforting on his brow, I’m sure.’

 ‘Taken ill?’ Lobelia snapped. ‘And you invited him here?’

 ‘I was sure you wouldn’t mind,’ Bilbo said. ‘Plenty of guest rooms, after all...’

 ‘Taken ill with what?’ Lobelia demanded.

 ‘A high fever, I’m afraid,’ Bilbo said, shaking his head. ‘Probably quite catching, but what can one do? I could hardly turn him away...?’

 Lobelia’s expression seemed to say that he could do just that. She rose abruptly. ‘I’m sorry, Bilbo,’ she said. ‘I find it impossible to stay, with fever in the smial! I have my dear Lotho to consider... he’s delicate, you know.’

 Lotho, not at all delicate except perhaps in his mother’s mind, sniggered at the thought of Bilbo being left alone to nurse his unfortunate cousin. ‘I hope you have a pleasant Yule,’ he said.

Otho rose to help Lobelia on with her wraps. ‘We’ll have to take this up in the New Year,’ he said solemnly.

 ‘I’ll leave the papers with you,’ Lobelia said. ‘You can look them over, and I’ll send someone round to fetch them when you’ve signed them. Remember to get all the proper witnesses.’

 ‘I’ll remember,’ Bilbo promised, determination in his tone. He was determined, all right. He ushered the three to the door and waved as they trudged away, Otho and Lotho flanking Lobelia that she might not slip on the ice. With luck one would slip and carry the other two to the ground.

Bilbo shook his head and closed the door. The first order of business was to throw Lobelia’s papers on the fire. He watched them burn with some satisfaction, then collected the used plates and cutlery. There weren’t as many silver spoons as he’d remembered carrying to the parlour...