-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джон Толкин
-
- Властелин колец: Две башни
-
- Стр. 198/332
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Every
now
and
again
a
tiny
red
gleam
far
away
flickered
upwards
on
the
rim
of
earth
and
sky
.
'
What
a
fix
!
'
said
Sam
.
'
That
's
the
one
place
in
all
the
lands
we
've
ever
heard
of
that
we
do
n't
want
to
see
any
closer
;
and
that
's
the
one
place
we
're
trying
to
get
to
!
And
that
's
just
where
we
ca
n't
get
,
nohow
.
We
've
come
the
wrong
way
altogether
,
seemingly
.
We
ca
n't
get
down
;
and
if
we
did
get
down
,
we
'd
find
all
that
green
land
a
nasty
bog
,
I
'll
warrant
.
Phew
!
Can
you
smell
it
?
'
He
sniffed
at
the
wind
.
'
Yes
,
I
can
smell
it
,
'
said
Frodo
,
but
he
did
not
move
,
and
his
eyes
remained
fixed
,
staring
out
towards
the
dark
line
and
the
flickering
flame
.
'
Mordor
!
'
he
muttered
under
his
breath
.
'
If
I
must
go
there
I
wish
I
could
come
there
quickly
and
make
an
end
!
'
He
shuddered
.
The
wind
was
chilly
and
yet
heavy
with
an
odour
of
cold
decay
.
'
Well
,
'
he
said
,
at
last
withdrawing
his
eyes
,
'
we
can
not
stay
here
all
night
,
fix
or
no
fix
.
We
must
find
a
more
sheltered
spot
,
and
camp
once
more
;
and
perhaps
another
day
will
show
us
a
path
.
'
'
Or
another
and
another
and
another
,
'
muttered
Sam
.
'
Or
maybe
no
day
.
We
've
come
the
wrong
way
.
'
'
I
wonder
,
'
said
Frodo
.
'
It
's
my
doom
,
I
think
,
to
go
to
that
Shadow
yonder
,
so
that
a
way
will
be
found
.
But
will
good
or
evil
show
it
to
me
?
What
hope
we
had
was
in
speed
.
Delay
plays
into
the
Enemy
's
hands-and
here
I
am
:
delayed
.
Is
it
the
will
of
the
Dark
Tower
that
steers
us
?
All
my
choices
have
proved
ill
.
I
should
have
left
the
Company
long
before
,
and
come
down
from
the
North
,
east
of
the
River
and
of
the
Emyn
Muil
,
and
so
over
the
hard
of
Battle
Plain
to
the
passes
of
Mordor
.
But
now
it
is
n't
possible
for
you
and
me
alone
to
find
a
way
back
,
and
the
Orcs
are
prowling
on
the
east
bank
.
Every
day
that
passes
is
a
precious
day
lost
.
I
am
tired
,
Sam
.
I
do
n't
know
what
is
to
be
done
.
What
food
have
we
got
left
?
'
'
Only
those
,
what
d'you
call
'em
,
lembas
,
Mr.
Frodo
.
A
fair
supply
.
But
they
are
better
than
naught
,
by
a
long
bite
.
I
never
thought
,
though
,
when
I
first
set
tooth
in
them
,
that
I
should
ever
come
to
wish
for
a
change
.
But
I
do
now
:
a
bit
of
plain
bread
,
and
a
mug
-
aye
,
half
a
mug
-
of
beer
would
go
down
proper
.
I
've
lugged
my
cooking-gear
all
the
way
from
the
last
camp
,
and
what
use
has
it
been
?
Naught
to
make
a
fire
with
,
for
a
start
;
and
naught
to
cook
,
not
even
grass
!
'
They
turned
away
and
went
down
into
a
stony
hollow
.
The
westering
sun
was
caught
into
clouds
,
and
night
came
swiftly
.
They
slept
as
well
as
they
could
for
the
cold
,
turn
and
turn
about
,
in
a
nook
among
great
jagged
pinnacles
of
weathered
rock
;
at
least
they
were
sheltered
from
the
easterly
wind
.
'
Did
you
see
them
again
,
Mr.
Frodo
?
'
asked
Sam
,
as
they
sat
,
stiff
and
chilled
,
munching
wafers
of
lembas
,
in
the
cold
grey
of
early
morning
.
'N
o
,
'
said
Frodo
.
'
I
've
heard
nothing
,
and
seen
nothing
,
for
two
nights
now
.
'
