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- Джон Толкин
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- Властелин колец: Возвращение короля
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- Стр. 158/277
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The
will
of
the
Watchers
was
broken
with
a
suddenness
like
the
snapping
of
a
cord
,
and
Frodo
and
Sam
stumbled
forward
.
Then
they
ran
.
Through
the
gate
and
past
the
great
seated
figures
with
their
glittering
eyes
.
There
was
a
crack
.
The
keystone
of
the
arch
crashed
almost
on
their
heels
,
and
the
wall
above
crumbled
,
and
fell
in
ruin
.
Only
by
a
hair
did
they
escape
.
A
bell
clanged
;
and
from
the
Watchers
there
went
up
a
high
and
dreadful
wail
.
Far
up
above
in
the
darkness
it
was
answered
.
Out
of
the
black
sky
there
came
dropping
like
a
bolt
a
winged
shape
,
rending
the
clouds
with
a
ghastly
shriek
.
Sam
had
just
wits
enough
left
to
thrust
the
phial
back
into
his
breast
.
"
Run
,
Mr.
Frodo
!
"
he
cried
.
"
No
,
not
that
way
!
There
's
a
sheer
drop
over
the
wall
.
Follow
me
!
"
Down
the
road
from
the
gate
they
fled
.
In
fifty
paces
,
with
a
swift
bend
round
a
jutting
bastion
of
the
cliff
,
it
took
them
out
of
sight
from
the
Tower
.
They
had
escaped
for
the
moment
.
Cowering
back
against
the
rock
they
drew
breath
,
and
then
they
clutched
at
their
hearts
.
Perching
now
on
the
wall
beside
the
ruined
gate
the
Nazgûl
sent
out
its
deadly
cries
.
All
the
cliffs
echoed
.
In
terror
they
stumbled
on
.
Soon
the
road
bent
sharply
eastward
again
and
exposed
them
for
a
dreadful
moment
to
view
from
the
Tower
.
As
they
flitted
across
they
glanced
back
and
saw
the
great
black
shape
upon
the
battlement
;
then
they
plunged
down
between
high
rock-walls
in
a
cutting
that
fell
steeply
to
join
the
Morgul-road
.
They
came
to
the
way-meeting
.
There
was
still
no
sign
of
orcs
,
nor
of
an
answer
to
the
cry
of
the
Nazgûl
;
but
they
knew
that
the
silence
would
not
last
long
.
At
any
moment
now
the
hunt
would
begin
.
"
This
wo
n't
do
,
Sam
,
"
said
Frodo
.
"
If
we
were
real
orcs
,
we
ought
to
be
dashing
back
to
the
Tower
,
not
running
away
.
The
first
enemy
we
meet
will
know
us
.
We
must
get
off
this
road
somehow
.
"
"
But
we
ca
n't
,
"
said
Sam
,
"
not
without
wings
.
"
The
eastern
faces
of
the
Ephel
Duath
were
sheer
,
falling
in
cliff
and
precipice
to
the
black
trough
that
lay
between
them
and
the
inner
ridge
.
A
short
way
beyond
the
way-meeting
,
after
another
steep
incline
,
a
flying
bridge
of
stone
leapt
over
the
chasm
and
bore
the
road
across
into
the
tumbled
slopes
and
glens
of
the
Morgai
.
With
a
desperate
spurt
Frodo
and
Sam
dashed
along
the
bridge
;
but
they
had
hardly
reached
its
further
end
when
they
heard
the
hue
and
cry
begin
.
Away
behind
them
,
now
high
above
on
the
mountain-side
,
loomed
the
Tower
of
Cirith
Ungol
,
its
stones
glowing
dully
.
Suddenly
its
harsh
bell
clanged
again
,
and
then
broke
into
a
shattering
peal
.
Horns
sounded
.
And
now
from
beyond
the
bridge-end
came
answering
cries
.
Down
in
the
dark
trough
,
cut
off
from
the
dying
glare
of
Orodruin
,
Frodo
and
Sam
could
not
see
ahead
,
but
already
they
heard
the
tramp
of
iron-shod
feet
,
and
upon
the
road
there
rang
the
swift
clatter
of
hoofs
.
"
Quick
,
Sam
!
Over
we
go
!
"
cried
Frodo
.
They
scrambled
on
to
the
low
parapet
of
the
bridge
.
Fortunately
there
was
no
longer
any
dreadful
drop
into
the
gulf
,
for
the
slopes
of
the
Morgai
had
already
risen
almost
to
the
level
of
the
road
;
but
it
was
too
dark
for
them
to
guess
the
depth
of
the
fall
.
"
Well
,
here
goes
,
Mr.
Frodo
,
"
said
Sam
.
"
Good-bye
!
"
