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With those ill…boding words the third day closed since Pippin came to Minas Tirith。 Few went to
rest； for small hope had any now that even Faramir could hold the fords for long。
The next day； though the darkness had reached its full and grew no deeper； it weighed heavier
on men's hearts； and a great dread was on them。 Ill news came soon again。 The passage of Anduin
was won by the Enemy。 Faramir was retreating to the wall of the Pelennor； rallying his men to the
Causeway Forts； but he was ten times outnumbered。
'If he wins back at all across the Pelennor； his enemies will be on his heels；' said the messenger。
'They have paid dear for the crossing but less dearly than we hoped。 The plan has been well laid。 It
is now seen that in secret they have long been building floats and barges in great numbers in East
Osgiliath。 They swarmed across like beetles。 But it is the Black Captain that defeats us。 Few will
stand and abide even the rumour of his ing。 His own folk quail at him； and they would slay
themselves at his bidding。'
'Then I am needed there more than here；' said Gandalf； and rode off at once； and the glimmer of
him faded soon from sight。 And all that night Pippin alone and sleepless stood upon the wall and
gazed eastward。
The bells of day had scarcely rung out again； a mockery in the unlightened dark； when far away
he saw fires spring up； across in the dim spaces where the walls of the Pelennor stood。 The
watchmen cried aloud； and all men in the City stood to arms。 Now ever and anon there was a red
flash； and slowly through the heavy air dull rumbles could be heard。
'They have taken the wall！' men cried。 'They are blasting breaches in it。 They are ing！'
'Where is Faramir？' cried Beregond in dismay。 'Say not that he has fallen！'
It was Gandalf that brought the first tidings。 With a handful of horsemen he came in the middle
morning； riding as escort to a line of wains。 They were filled with wounded men； all that could be
saved from the wreck of the Causeway Forts。 At once he went to Denethor。 The Lord of the City
sat now in a high chamber above the Hall of the White Tower with Pippin at his side； and through
the dim windows； north and south and east； he bent his dark eyes； as if to pierce the shadows of
doom that ringed him round。 Most to the north he looked； and would pause at whiles to listen as if
by some ancient art his ears might hear the thunder of hoofs on the plains far away。
'Is Faramir e？' he asked。
'No；' said Gandalf。 'But he still lived when I left him。 Yet he is resolved to stay with the
rearguard； lest the retreat over the Pelennor bee a rout。 He may； perhaps； hold his men together
long enough； but I doubt it。 He is pitted against a foe too great。 For one has e that I feared。'
'Not – the Dark Lord？' cried Pippin； forgetting his place in his terror。
Denethor laughed bitterly。 'Nay； not yet； Master Peregrin！ He will not e save only to
triumph over me when all is won。 He uses others as his weapons。 So do all great lords； if they are
wise； Master Halfling。 Or why should I sit here in my tower and think； and watch； and wait；
spending even my sons？ For I can still wield a brand。'
He stood up and cast open his long black cloak； and behold！ he was clad in mail beneath； and
girt with a long sword； great…hilted in a sheath of black and silver。 'Thus have I walked； and thus
now for many years have I slept；' he said； 'lest with age the body should grow soft and timid。'
'Yet now under the Lord of Barad…d？r the most fell of all his captains is already master of your
outer walls；' said Gandalf。 'King of Angmar long ago； Sorcerer； Ringwraith； Lord of the Nazg？l； a
spear of terror in the hand of Sauron； shadow of despair。'
'Then； Mithrandir； you had a foe to match you；' said Denethor。 'For myself； I have long known
who is the chief captain of the hosts of the Dark Tower。 Is this all that you have returned to say？ Or
can it be that you have withdrawn because you are overmatched？'
Pippin trembled； fearing that Gandalf would be stung to sudden wrath； but his fear was needless。
'It might be so；' Gandalf answered softly。 'But our trial of strength is not yet e。 And if words
spoken of old be true； not by the hand of man shall he fall； and hidden from the Wise is the doom
that awaits him。 However that may be； the Captain of Despair does not press forward； yet。 He rules
rather according to the wisdom that you have just spoken； from the rear； driving his slaves in
madness on before。
'Nay； I came rather to guard the hurt men that can yet be healed； for the Rammas is breached far
and wide； and soon the host of Morgul will enter in at many points。 And I came chiefly to say this。
Soon there will be battle on the fields。 A sortie must be made ready。 Let it be of mounted men。 In
them lies our brief hope； for in one thing only is the enemy still poorly provided： he has few
horsemen。'
'And we also have few。 Now would the ing of Rohan be in the nick of time；' said Denethor。
'We are likely to see other newers first；' said Gandalf。 'Fugitives from Cair Andros have
already reached us。 The isle has fallen。 Another army is e from the Black Gate； crossing from
the north…east。'
'Some have accused you； Mithrandir； of delighting to bear ill news；' said Denethor； 'but to me
this is no longer news： it was known to mw ere nightfall yesterday。 As for the sortie； I had already
given thought to it。 Let us go down。'
Time passed。 At length watchers on the walls could see the retreat of the out…panies。 Small
bands of weary and often wounded men came first with little order； some were running wildly as if
pursued。 Away to the eastward the distant fires flickered； and now it seemed that here and there
they crept across the plain。 Houses and barns were burning。 Then from many points little rivers of
red flame came hurrying on； winding through the gloom； converging towards the line of the broad
road that led from the City…gate to Osgiliath。
'The enemy；' men murmured。 'The dike is down。 Here they e pouring through the breaches！
And they carry torches； it seems。 Where are our own folk？'
It drew now to evening by the hour； and the light was so dim that even far…sighted men upon the
Citadel could discern little clearly out upon the fields； save only the burnings that ever multiplied；
and the lines of fire that grew in length and speed。 At last； less than a mile from the City； a more
ordered mass of men came into view； marching not running； still holding together。
The watchers held their breath。 'Faramir must be there；' they said。 'He can govern man and beast。
He will make it yet。'
Now the main retreat was scarcely two furlongs distant。 Out of the gloom behind a small
pany of horsemen galloped； all that was left of the rearguard。 Once again they turned at bay；
facing the oning lines of fire。 Then suddenly there was a tumult of fierce cries。 Horsemen of
the enemy swept up。 The lines of fire became flowing torrents； file upon file of Orcs bearing flames；
and wild Southron men with red banners； shouting with harsh