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new strength grew in him； he raised his head； and then with a great effort
got to his feet and found that he could walk and bear his burden。 And for a
moment he lifted up the Phial and looked down at his master； and the light
burned gently now with the soft radiance of the evening…star in summer； and
in that light Frodo's face was fair of hue again； pale but beautiful with an
elvish beauty； as of one who has long passed the shadows。 And with the
bitter fort of that last sight Sam turned and hid the light and stumbled
on into the growing dark。
He had not far to go。 The tunnel was some way behind； the Cleft a
couple of hundred yards ahead； or less。 The path was visible in the dusk‘ a
deep rut worn in ages of passage； running now gently up in a long trough
with cliffs on either side。 The trough narrowed rapidly。 Soon Sam came to a
long flight of broad shallow steps。 Now the orc…tower was right above him；
frowning black； and in it the red eye glowed。 Now he was hidden in the dark
shadow under it。 He was ing to the top of the steps and was in the Cleft
at last。
'I've made up my mind；' he kept saying to himself。 But he had not。
Though he had done his best to think it out； what he was doing was
altogether against the grain of his nature。 ‘Have I got it wrong？ ' he
muttered。 ‘What ought I to have done？ '
As the sheer sides of the Cleft closed about him； before he reached the
actual summit； before he looked at last on the path descending into the
Nameless Land。 he turned。 For a moment； motionless in intolerable doubt； he
looked back。 He could still see； like a small blot in the gathering gloom；
the mouth of the tunnel； and he thought he could see or guess where Frodo
lay。 He fancied there was a glimmer on the ground down there； or perhaps it
was some trick of his tears； as he peered out at that high stony place where
all his life had fallen in ruin。
'If only I could have my wish； my one wish；' he sighed； ‘to go back and
find him！ ' Then at last he turned to the road in front and took a few
steps： the heaviest and the most reluctant he had ever taken。
Only a few steps； and now only a few more and he would be going down
and would never see that high place again。 And then suddenly he heard cries
and voices。 He stood still as stone。 Orc…voices。 They were behind him and
before him。 A noise of tramping feet and harsh shouts： Orcs were ing up
to the Cleft from the far side； from some entry to the tower； perhaps。
Tramping feet and shouts behind。 He wheeled round。 He saw small red lights；
torches； winking away below there as they issued from the tunnel。 At last
the hunt was up。 The red eye of the tower had not been blind。 He was caught。
Now the flicker of approaching torches and the clink of steel ahead was
very near。 In a minute they would reach the top and be on him。 He had taken
too long in making up his mind； and now it was no good。 How could he escape；
or save himself； or save the Ring？ The Ring。 He was not aware of any thought
or decision。 He simply found himself drawing out the chain and taking the
Ring in his hand。 The head of the orc…pany appeared in the Cleft right
before him。 Then he put it on。
The world changed； and a single moment of time was filled with an hour
of thought。 At once he was aware that hearing was sharpened while sight was
dimmed； but otherwise than in Shelob's lair。 All things about him now were
not dark but vague； while he himself was there in a grey hazy world； alone；
like a small black solid rock and the Ring； weighing down his left hand； was
like an orb of hot gold。 He did not feel invisible at all； but horribly and
uniquely visible； and he knew that somewhere an Eye was searching for him。
He heard the crack of stone； and the murmur of water far off in Morgul
Vale； and down away under the rock the bubbling misery of Shelob； groping；
lost in some blind passage； and voices in the dungeons of the tower； and the
cries of the Orcs as they came out of the tunnel； and deafening； roaring in
his ears； the crash of the feet and the rending clamour of the Orcs before
him。 He shrank against the cliff。 But they marched up like a phantom
pany； grey distorted figures in a mist； only dreams of fear with pale
flames in their hands。 And they passed him by。 He cowered； trying to creep
away into some cranny and to hide。
He listened。 The Orcs from the tunnel and the others marching down had
sighted one another； and both parties were now hurrying and shouting。 He
heard them both clearly； and he understood what they said。 Perhaps the Ring
gave understanding of tongues； or simply understanding； especially of the
servants of Sauron its maker； so that if he gave heed； he understood and
translated the thought to himself。 Certainly the Ring had grown greatly in
power as it approached the places of its forging； but one thing it did not
confer； and that was courage。 At present Sam still thought only of hiding；
of lying low till all was quiet again； and he listened anxiously。 He could
not tell how near the voices were； the words seemed almost in his ears。
'Hola！ Gorbag！ What are you doing up here？ Had enough of war already？ '
'Orders； you lubber。 And what are you doing； Shagrat？ Tired of lurking
up there？ Thinking of ing down to fight？ '
'Orders to you。 I'm in mand of this pass。 So speak civil。 What's
your report？ '
'Nothing。'
‘Hai！ hai！ yoi！' A yell broke into the exchanges of the leaders。 The
Orcs lower down had suddenly seen something。 They began to run。 So did the
others。
‘Hai！ Hola！ Here's something！ Lying right in the road。 A spy； a spy！ '
There was a hoot of snarling horns and a babel of baying voices。
With a dreadful stroke Sam was wakened from his cowering mood。 They had
seen his master。 What would they do？ He had heard tales of the Orcs to make
the blood run cold。 It could not be borne。 He sprang up。 He flung the Quest
and all his decisions away； and fear and doubt with them。 He knew now where
his place was and had been： at his master's side； though what he could do
there was not clear。 Back he ran down the steps； down the path towards
Frodo。
‘How many are there？' he thought。 ‘Thirty or forty from the tower at
least； and a lot more than that from down below； I guess。 How many can I
kill before they get me？ They'll see the flame of the sword； as soon as I
draw it； and they'll get me sooner or later。 I wonder if any song will ever
mention it： How Samwise fell in the High Pass and made a wall of bodies
round his master。 No； no song。 Of course not； for the Ring'll be found； and
there'll be no more songs。 I can't help it。 My place is by Mr。 Frodo。 They
must understand that Elrond and the Council； and the great Lords and
Ladies with all their wisdom。 Their plans have gone wrong。 I can't be their
Ring…bearer。 Not without Mr。 Frodo。'
But the Orcs were out of his dim sight