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e night！' she said。 'For you are still afraid； perhaps； of mist and treeshadows and deep water； and untame things。 Fear nothing！ For tonight you are under the roof of Tom Bombadil。'
The hobbits looked at her in wonder； and she looked at each of them and smiled。 'Fair lady Goldberry！' said Frodo at last； feeling his heart moved with a joy that he did not understand。 He stood as he had at times stood enchanted by fair elvenvoices； but the spell that was now laid upon him was different： less keen and lofty was the delight； but deeper and nearer to mortal heart； marvellous and yet not strange。 'Fair lady Goldberry！' he said again。 'Now the joy that was hidden in the songs we heard is made plain to me。
O slender as a willowwand！ O clearer than clear water！
O reed by the living pool！ Fair Riverdaughter！
O springtime and summertime； and spring again after！
O wind on the waterfall； and the leaves' laughter！'
Suddenly he stopped and stammered； overe with surprise to hear himself saying such things。 But Goldberry laughed。
'Wele！' she said。 'I had not heard that folk of the Shire were so sweettongued。 But I see you are an elffriend； the light in your eyes and the ring in your voice tells it。 This is a merry meeting！ Sit now； and wait for the Master of the house！ He will not be long。 He is tending your tired beasts。'
The hobbits sat down gladly in low rushseated chairs； while Goldberry busied herself about the table； and their eyes followed her； for the slender grace of her movement filled them somewhere behind the house came the sound of singing。 Every now and again they caught； among many a derry dol and a merry dol and a ring a ding dillo the repeated words：
Old Tom Bombadil is a merry fellow；
Bright blue his jacket is； and his boots are yellow。
'Fair lady！' said Frodo again after a while。 'Tell me； if my asking does not seem foolish； who is Tom Bombadil？'
'He is；' said Goldberry； staying her swift movements and smiling。
Frodo looked at her questioningly。 'He is； as you have seen him；' she said in answer to his look。 'He is the Master of wood； water； and hill。'
'Then all this strange land belongs to him？'
'No indeed！' she answered； and her smile faded。 'That would indeed be a burden；' she added in a low voice； as if to herself。 'The trees and the grasses and all things growing or living in the land belong each to themselves。 Tom Bombadil is the Master。 No one has ever caught old Tom walking in the forest； wading in the water； leaping on the hilltops under light and shadow。 He has no fear。 Tom Bombadil is master。'
A door opened and in came Tom Bombadil。 He had now no hat and his thick brown hair was crowned with autumn leaves。 He laughed； and going to Goldberry； took her hand。
'Here's my pretty lady！' he said； bowing to the hobbits。 'Here's my Goldberry clothed all in silvergreen with flowers in her girdle！ Is the table laden？ I see yellow cream and honeyb； and white bread； and butter； milk； cheese； and green herbs and ripe berries gathered。 Is that enough for us？ Is the supper ready？'
'It is；' said Goldberry； 'but the guests perhaps are not？'
Tom clapped his hands and cried： 'Tom； Tom！ your guests are tired； and you had near fotten！ e now； my merry friends； and Tom will refresh you！ You shall clean grimy hands； and wash your weary faces； cast off your muddy cloaks and b out your tangles！'
He opened the door； and they followed him down a short passage and round a sharp turn。 They came to a low room with a sloping roof （a penthouse； it seemed； built on to the north end of the house）。 Its walls were of clean stone； but they were mostly covered with green hanging mats and yellow curtains。 The floor was flagged； and strewn with fresh green rushes。 There were four deep mattresses； each piled with white blankets； laid on the floor along one side。 Against the opposite wall was a long bench laden with wide earthenware basins； and beside it stood brown ewers filled with water； some cold； some steaming hot。 There were soft green slippers set ready beside each bed。
Before long； washed and refreshed； the hobbits were seated at the table； two on each side； while at either end sat Goldberry and the Master。 It was a long and merry meal。 Though the hobbits ate； as only famished hobbits can eat； there was no lack。 The drink in their drinkingbowls seemed to be clear cold water； yet it went to their hearts like wine and set free their voices。 The guests became suddenly aware that they were singing merrily； as if it was easier and more natural than talking。
At last Tom and Goldberry rose and cleared the table swiftly。 The guests were manded to sit quiet； and were set in chairs； each with a footstool to his tired feet。 There was a fire in the wide hearth before them； and it was burning with a sweet smell； as if it were built of applewood。 When everything was set in order； all the lights in the room were put out； except one lamp and a pair of candles at each end of the chimneyshelf。 Then Goldberry came and stood before them； holding a candle； and she wished them each a good night and deep sleep。
'Have peace now；' she said； 'until the morning！ Heed no nightly noises！ For nothing passes door and window here save moonlight and starlight and the wind off the hilltop。 Good night！' She passed out of the room with a glimmer and a rustle。 The sound of her footsteps was like a stream falling gently away downhill over cool stones in the quiet of night。
Tom sat on a while beside them in silence； while each of them tried to muster the courage to ask one of the many questions he had meant to ask at supper。 Sleep gathered on their eyelids。 At last Frodo spoke：
'Did you hear me calling； Master； or was it just chance that brought you at that moment？'
Tom stirred like a man shaken out of a pleasant dream。 'Eh； what？' said he。 'Did I hear you calling？ Nay； I did not hear： I was busy singing。 Just chance brought me then； if chance you call it。 It was no plan of mine； though I was waiting for you。 We heard news of you； and learned that you were wandering。 We guessed you'd e ere long down to the water： all paths lead that way； down to Withywindle。 Old grey Willowman； he's a mighty singer； and it's hard for little folk to escape his cunning mazes。 But Tom had an errand there； that he dared not hinder。' Tom nodded as if sleep was taking him again； but he went on in a soft singing voice：
I had an errand there： gathering waterlilies；
green leaves and lilies white to please my pretty lady；
the last ere the year's end to keep them from the winter；
to flower by her pretty feet tilt the snows are melted。
Each year at summer's end I go to find them for her；
in a wide pool； deep and clear； far down Withywindle；
there they open first in spring and there they linger latest。
By that pool long ago I found the Riverdaughter；
fair young Goldberry sitting in the rushes。
Sweet was her singing then； and her heart was beating！
He opened his eyes and looked at them with a sudden glint of blue：
And that proved well for you 。 for now I shall no longer
go down deep again along the forestwater；
not while the year is old。 Nor shall I be passing
Old Man Willow's house this side of springtime；
not till the merry spring； when the Riverdaughter
dances down the withypath to bathe in the water。
He fell silent again； but Frodo could not help asking one more question： the one he most desired to have answered。 'Tell us； Master；' he said； 'about the Willowman。 What is he？ I have never heard of him before。'
'No； don't！' said Merry and Pippin together； sitting suddenly upright。 'Not now！ Not until the morning！'
'That is right！' said the old man。 'Now is the time for resting。 Some things are ill to hear when the world's in shadow。 Sleep till the morning light； rest on the pillow！ Heed no nightly noise！ Fear no grey willow！' And with that he took down the lamp and blew it out； and grasping a candle in either hand he led them out of the room。
Their mattresses and pillows were soft as down； and the blankets were of white wool。 They had hardly laid themselves on the deep beds and drawn the light covers over them before they were asleep。
In the dead night； Frodo lay in a dream without light。 Then he saw the young moon rising； under its thin light there loomed before him a black wall of rock； pierced by a dark arch like a great gate。 It seemed to Frodo that he was lifted up； and passing over he saw that the rockwall was a circle of hills； and that within it was a plain； and in the midst of the plain stood a pinnacle of stone； like a vast tower but not made by hands。 On its top stood the figure of a man。 The moon as it rose seemed to hang for a moment above his head and glistened in his white hair as the wind stirred it。 Up from the dark plain below came the crying of fell voices； and the howling of many wolves。 Suddenly a shadow； like the shape of great wings； passed across the moon。 The figure lifted his arms and a light flashed from the staff that he wielded。 A mighty eagle swept down and bore him away。 The voices wailed and the wolves yammered。 There was a noise like a strong wind blowing； and on it was borne the sound of hoofs； galloping； galloping； galloping from the East。 'Black Riders！' thought Frodo as he wakened； with the sound of the hoofs still echoing in his mind。 He wondered if he would ever again have the courage to leave the safety of these stone walls。 He lay motionless； still listening； but all was now silent； and at last he turned and fell asleep again or wandered into some other unremembered dream。
At his side Pippin lay dreaming pleasantly； but a change came over his dreams and he turned and groaned。 Suddenly he woke； or thought he had waked； and yet still heard in the darkness the sound that had disturbed his dream： tiptap； squeak： the noise was like branches fretting in the wind； twig fingers scraping wall and window： creak； creak； creak。 He wondered if there were willowtrees close to the house； and then suddenly he had a dreadful feeling that he was not in an ordinary house at all； but inside the willow and listening to that horrible dry creaking voice laughing at him again。 He sat up； and felt the soft pillows yield to his hands； and he lay down again relieved。 He seemed to hear the echo of words in his ears： 'Fear nothing！ Have peace until the morning！ Heed no nightly noises！' Then he went to sleep again。
It was the sound of water that Merry heard falling into his quiet sleep： water streaming down gently； and then spreading； spreading irresistibly all round the house into a dark shoreless pool。 It gurgled under the walls； and was rising slowly but surely。 'I shall be drowned！' he thought。 It will find its way in； and then I shall drown。' He felt that he was lying in a soft slimy bog； and springing up he set his fool on the corner of a cold hard flagstone。 Then he remembered where he was and lay down again。 He seemed to hear or remember hearing： 'Nothing passes doors or windows save moonlight and starlight and the wind off the hilltop。' A little breath of sweet air moved the curtain。 He breathed deep and fell asleep again。
As far as he could remember； Sam slept through the night in deep content； if logs are contented。
They woke up； all four at once； in the morning light。 Tom was moving about the room whistling like a starling。 When he heard them stir he clapped his hands； and cried： 'Hey！ e merry dol！ derry dol！ My hearties！' He drew back the yellow curtains； and the hobbits saw that these had covered the windows； at either end of the room； one looking east and the other looking west。
They leapt up refreshed。 Frodo ran to the eastern window； and found himself looking into a kitchengarden grey with dew。 He had half expected to see turf right up to the walls； turf all pocked with hoofprints。 Actually his view was screened by a tall line of beans on poles； but above and far beyond them the grey top of the hill loomed up against the sunrise。 It was a pale morning： in the East； behind long clouds like lines of soiled wool stained red at the edges； lay glimmering deeps of yellow。 The sky spoke of rain to e； but the light was broadening quickly； and the red flowers on the beans began to glow against the wet green leaves。
Pippin looked out of the western window； down into a pool of mist。 The Forest was hidden