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- Джон Толкин
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- Властелин колец: Возвращение короля
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- Стр. 173/277
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They
lay
still
for
a
while
.
It
was
too
dark
to
seek
for
cover
,
if
indeed
there
was
any
to
find
;
but
Sam
felt
that
they
ought
at
least
to
get
further
away
from
the
highways
and
out
of
the
range
of
torch-light
.
"
Come
on
,
Mr.
Frodo
!
"
he
whispered
.
"
One
more
crawl
,
and
then
you
can
lie
still
"
With
a
last
despairing
effort
Frodo
raised
himself
on
his
hands
,
and
struggled
on
for
maybe
twenty
yards
.
Then
he
pitched
down
into
a
shallow
pit
that
opened
unexpectedly
before
them
,
and
there
he
lay
like
a
dead
thing
.
Sam
put
his
ragged
orc-cloak
under
his
master
's
head
,
and
covered
them
both
with
the
grey
robe
of
Lórien
;
and
as
he
did
so
his
thoughts
went
out
to
that
fair
land
,
and
to
the
Elves
,
and
he
hoped
that
the
cloth
woven
by
their
hands
might
have
some
virtue
to
keep
them
hidden
beyond
all
hope
in
this
wilderness
of
fear
.
He
heard
the
scuffling
and
cries
die
down
as
the
troops
passed
on
through
the
Isenmouthe
.
It
seemed
that
in
the
confusion
and
the
mingling
of
many
companies
of
various
kinds
they
had
not
been
missed
,
not
yet
at
any
rate
.
Sam
took
a
sip
of
water
,
but
pressed
Frodo
to
drink
,
and
when
his
master
had
recovered
a
little
he
gave
him
a
whole
wafer
of
their
precious
waybread
and
made
him
eat
it
.
Then
,
too
worn
out
even
to
feel
much
fear
,
they
stretched
themselves
out
.
They
slept
a
little
in
uneasy
fits
;
for
their
sweat
grew
chill
on
them
,
and
the
hard
stones
bit
them
,
and
they
shivered
.
Out
of
the
north
from
the
Black
Gate
through
Cirith
Gorgor
there
flowed
whispering
along
the
ground
a
thin
cold
air
.
In
the
morning
a
grey
light
came
again
,
for
in
the
high
regions
the
West
Wind
still
blew
,
but
down
on
the
stones
behind
the
fences
of
the
Black
Land
the
air
seemed
almost
dead
,
chill
and
yet
stifling
.
Sam
looked
up
out
of
the
hollow
.
The
land
all
about
was
dreary
,
flat
and
drab-hued
.
On
the
roads
nearby
nothing
was
moving
now
;
but
Sam
feared
the
watchful
eyes
on
the
wall
of
the
Isenmouthe
,
no
more
than
a
furlong
away
northward
.
South-eastward
,
far
off
like
a
dark
standing
shadow
,
loomed
the
Mountain
.
Smokes
were
pouring
from
it
and
while
those
that
rose
into
the
upper
air
trailed
away
eastward
,
great
rolling
clouds
floated
down
its
sides
and
spread
over
the
land
.
A
few
miles
to
the
north-east
the
foothills
of
the
Ashen
Mountains
stood
like
sombre
grey
ghosts
,
behind
which
the
misty
northern
heights
rose
like
a
line
of
distant
cloud
hardly
darker
than
the
lowering
sky
.
Sam
tried
to
guess
the
distances
and
to
decide
what
way
they
ought
to
take
.
It
looks
every
step
of
fifty
miles
,
"
he
muttered
gloomily
staring
at
the
threatening
mountain
,
"
and
that
'll
take
a
week
,
if
it
takes
a
day
,
with
Mr.
Frodo
as
he
is
.
"
He
shook
his
head
,
and
as
he
worked
things
out
,
slowly
a
new
dark
thought
grew
in
his
mind
.
Never
for
long
had
hope
died
in
his
staunch
heart
,
and
always
until
now
he
had
taken
some
thought
for
their
return
.
But
the
bitter
truth
came
home
to
him
at
last
:
at
best
their
provision
would
take
them
to
their
goal
;
and
when
the
task
was
done
,
there
they
would
come
to
an
end
,
alone
,
houseless
,
foodless
in
the
midst
of
a
terrible
desert
.
There
could
be
no
return
.
"
So
that
was
the
job
I
felt
I
had
to
do
when
I
started
,
"
thought
Sam
,
"
to
help
Mr.
Frodo
to
the
last
step
and
then
die
with
him
?
Well
,
if
that
is
the
job
then
I
must
do
it
.
But
I
would
dearly
like
to
see
Bywater
again
,
and
Rosie
Cotton
and
her
brothers
,
and
the
Gaffer
and
Marigold
and
all
.
I
ca
n't
think
somehow
that
Gandalf
would
have
sent
Mr.
Frodo
on
this
errand
if
there
had
n't
a
'
been
any
hope
of
his
ever
coming
back
at
all
.
