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- Джон Толкин
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- Властелин колец: Возвращение короля
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- Стр. 162/277
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Sam
's
quick
spirits
sank
again
at
once
.
He
looked
at
his
master
anxiously
,
and
he
took
his
hand
.
"
Come
,
Mr.
Frodo
!
"
he
said
.
"
I
've
got
one
thing
I
wanted
:
a
bit
of
light
.
Enough
to
help
us
,
and
yet
I
guess
it
's
dangerous
too
.
Try
a
bit
further
,
and
then
we
'll
lie
close
and
have
a
rest
.
But
take
a
morsel
to
eat
now
,
a
bit
of
the
Elves
"
food
;
it
may
hearten
you
.
"
Sharing
a
wafer
of
lembas
,
and
munching
it
as
best
they
could
with
their
parched
mouths
.
Frodo
and
Sam
plodded
on
.
The
light
,
though
no
more
than
a
grey
dusk
,
was
now
enough
for
them
to
see
that
they
were
deep
in
the
valley
between
the
mountains
.
It
sloped
up
gently
northward
,
and
at
its
bottom
went
the
bed
of
a
now
dry
and
withered
stream
.
Beyond
its
stony
course
they
saw
a
beaten
path
that
wound
its
way
under
the
feet
of
the
westward
cliffs
.
Had
they
known
,
they
could
have
reached
it
quicker
,
for
it
was
a
track
that
left
the
main
Morgul-road
at
the
western
bridge-end
and
went
down
by
a
long
stair
cut
in
the
rock
to
the
valley
's
bottom
.
It
was
used
by
patrols
or
by
messengers
going
swiftly
to
lesser
posts
and
strongholds
north-away
,
between
Cirith
Ungol
and
the
narrows
of
Isenmouthe
,
the
iron
jaws
of
Carach
Angren
.
It
was
perilous
for
the
hobbits
to
use
such
a
path
,
but
they
needed
speed
,
and
Frodo
felt
that
he
could
not
face
the
toil
of
scrambling
among
the
boulders
or
in
the
trackless
glens
of
the
Morgai
.
And
he
judged
that
northward
was
,
maybe
,
the
way
that
their
hunters
would
least
expect
them
to
take
.
The
road
east
to
the
plain
,
or
the
pass
back
westward
,
those
they
would
first
search
most
thoroughly
.
Only
when
he
was
well
north
of
the
Tower
did
he
mean
to
turn
and
seek
for
some
way
to
take
him
east
,
east
on
the
last
desperate
stage
of
his
journey
.
So
now
they
crossed
the
stony
bed
and
took
to
the
orc-path
,
and
for
some
time
they
marched
along
it
.
The
cliffs
at
their
left
were
overhung
,
and
they
could
not
be
seen
from
above
;
but
the
path
made
many
bends
,
and
at
each
bend
they
gripped
their
sword-hilts
and
went
forward
cautiously
.
The
light
grew
no
stronger
,
for
Orodruin
was
still
belching
forth
a
great
fume
that
,
beaten
upwards
by
the
opposing
airs
,
mounted
higher
and
higher
,
until
it
reached
a
region
above
the
wind
and
spread
in
an
immeasurable
roof
,
whose
central
pillar
rose
out
of
the
shadows
beyond
their
view
.
They
had
trudged
for
more
than
an
hour
when
they
heard
a
sound
that
brought
them
to
a
halt
.
Unbelievable
,
but
unmistakable
.
Water
trickling
.
Out
of
a
gully
on
the
left
,
so
sharp
and
narrow
that
it
looked
as
if
the
black
cliff
had
been
cloven
by
some
huge
axe
,
water
came
dripping
down
:
the
last
remains
,
maybe
,
of
some
sweet
rain
gathered
from
sunlit
seas
,
but
ill-fated
to
fall
at
last
upon
the
walls
of
the
Black
Land
and
wander
fruitless
down
into
the
dust
.
Here
it
came
out
of
the
rock
in
a
little
falling
streamlet
,
and
flowed
across
the
path
,
and
turning
south
ran
away
swiftly
to
be
lost
among
the
dead
stones
.
Sam
sprang
towards
it
.
"
If
ever
I
see
the
Lady
again
,
I
will
tell
her
!
"
he
cried
.
"
Light
and
now
water
!
"
Then
he
stopped
.
"
Let
me
drink
first
Mr.
Frodo
,
"
he
said
.
"
All
right
,
but
there
's
room
enough
for
two
.
"
"
I
did
n't
mean
that
,
"
said
Sam
.
"
I
mean
:
if
it
's
poisonous
,
or
something
that
will
show
its
badness
quick
,
well
,
better
me
than
you
,
master
,
if
you
understand
me
.
"
