black figures in rank upon rank； marching swiftly and silently； passing
outwards in an endless stream。 Before them went a great cavalry of horsemen
moving like ordered shadows； and at their head was one greater than all the
rest： a Rider； all black； save that on his hooded head he had a helm like a
crown that flickered with a perilous light。 Now he was drawing near the
bridge below； and Frodo's staring eyes followed him； unable to wink or to
withdraw。 Surely there was the Lord of the Nine Riders returned to earth to
lead his ghastly host to battle？ Here； yes here indeed was the haggard king
whose cold hand had smitten down the Ring…bearer with his deadly knife。 The
old wound throbbed with pain and a great chill spread towards Frodo's heart。
Even as these thoughts pierced him with dread and held him bound as
with a spell； the Rider halted suddenly； right before the entrance of the
bridge； and behind him all the host stood still。 There was a pause； a dead
silence。 Maybe it was the Ring that called to the Wraith…lord； and for a
moment he was troubled； sensing some other power within his valley。 This way
and that turned the dark head helmed and crowned with fear； sweeping the
shadows with its unseen eyes。 Frodo waited； like a bird at the approach of a
snake； unable to move。 And as he waited； he felt； more urgent than ever
before； the mand that he should put on the Ring。 But great as the
pressure was； he felt no inclination now to yield to it。 He knew that the
Ring would only betray him； and that he had not； even if he put it on； the
power to face the Morgul…king…not yet。 There was no longer any answer to
that mand in his own will； dismayed by terror though it was； and he felt
only the beating upon him of a great power from outside。 It took his hand；
and as Frodo watched with his mind； not willing it but in suspense （as if he
looked on some old story far away）； it moved the hand inch by inch towards
the chain upon his neck。 Then his own will stirred； slowly it forced the
hand back。 and set it to find another thing； a thing lying hidden near his
breast。 Cold and hard it seemed as his grip closed on it： the phial of
Galadriel； so long treasured； and almost forgotten till that hour。 As he
touched it； for a while all thought of the Ring was banished from his mind。
He sighed and bent his head。
At that moment the Wraith…king turned and spurred his horse and rode
across the bridge； and all his dark host followed him。 Maybe the elven…hoods
defied his unseen eyes； and the mind of his small enemy； being strengthened；
had turned aside his thought。 But he was in haste。 Already the hour had
struck； and at his great Master's bidding he must march with war into the
West。
Soon he had passed； like a shadow into shadow； down the winding road；
and behind him still the black ranks crossed the bridge。 So great an army
had never issued from that vale since the days of Isildur's might； no host
so fell and strong in arms had yet assailed the fords of Anduin； and yet it
was but one and not the greatest of the hosts that Mordor now sent forth。
Frodo stirred。 And suddenly his heart went out to Faramir。 'The storm
has burst at last；' he thought。 ‘This great array of spears and swords is
going to Osgiliath。 Will Faramir get across in time？ He guessed it； but did
he know the hour？ And who can now hold the fords when the King of the Nine
Riders es？ And other armies will e。 I am too late。 All is lost。 I
tarried on the way。 All is lost。 Even if my errand is performed； no one will
ever know。 There will be no one I can tell。 It will be in vain。' Overe
with weakness he wept。 And still the host of Morgul crossed the bridge。
Then at a great distance； as if it came out of memories of the Shire；
some sunlit early morning； when the day called and doors were opening； he
heard Sam's voice speaking。 ‘Wake up； Mr。 Frodo！ Wake up！ ' Had the voice
added： ‘Your breakfast is ready；' he would hardly have been surprised。
Certainly Sam was urgent。 ‘Wake up； Mr。 Frodo！ They're gone；' he said。
There was a dull clang。 The gates of Minas Morgul had closed。 The last
rank of spears had vanished down the road。 The tower still grinned across
the valley； but the light was fading in it。 The whole city was falling back
into a dark brooding shade； and silence。 Yet still it was filled with
watchfulness。
'Wake up； Mr。 Frodo！ They're gone； and we'd better go too。 There's
something still alive in that place； something with eyes； or a seeing mind；
if you take me； and the longer we stay in one spot； the sooner it will get
on to us。 e on； Mr。 Frodo！ '
Frodo raised his head； and then stood up。 Despair had not left him； but
the weakness had passed。 He even smiled grimly； feeling now as clearly as a
moment before he had felt the opposite； that what he had to do； he had to
do； if he could； and that whether Faramir or Aragorn or Elrond or Galadriel
or Gandalf or anyone else ever knew about it was beside the purpose。 He took
his staff in one hand and the phial in his other。 When he saw that the clear
light was already welling through his fingers； he thrust it into his bosom
and held it against his heart。 Then turning from the city of Morgul； now no
more than a grey glimmer across a dark gulf； he prepared to take the upward
road。
Gollum； it seemed； had crawled off along the ledge into the darkness
beyond； when the gates of Minas Morgul opened； leaving the hobbits where
they lay。 He now came creeping back； his teeth chattering and his fingers
snapping。 ‘Foolish！ Silly！ ' he hissed。 ‘Make haste！ They mustn't think
danger has passed。 It hasn't。 Make haste！ '
They did not answer； but they followed him on to the climbing ledge。 It
was little to the liking of either of them； not even after facing so many
other perils； but it did not last long。 Soon the path reached a rounded
angle where the mountain…side swelled out again； and there it suddenly
entered a narrow opening in the rock。 They had e to the first stair that
Gollum had spoken of。 The darkness was almost plete； and they could see
nothing much beyond their hands' stretch； but Gollum's eyes shone pale；
several feet above； as he turned back towards them。
‘Careful！ ' he whispered。 ‘Steps。 Lots of steps。 Must be careful！ '
Care was certainly needed。 Frodo and Sam at first felt easier； having
now a wall on either side； but the stairway was almost as steep as a ladder；
and as they climbed up and up； they became more and more aware of the long
black fall behind them。 And the steps were narrow； spaced unevenly； and
often treacherous： they were worn and smooth at the edges； and some were
broken； and some cracked as foot was set upon them。 The hobbits struggled
on； until at last they were clinging with desperate fingers to the steps
ahead； and forcing their aching knees to bend and straighten； and ever as
the