"Well, here we are! ' said Sam. "Here's the Gate, and it looks to me as if that's about as far as we are ever going to get. My word, but the Gaffer would have a thing or two to say, if he saw me now! Often said I'd come to a bad end, if I didn't watch my step, he did. But now I don't suppose I'll ever see the old fellow again. He'll miss his chance ofI told'ee so, Sam : more's the pity. He could go on telling me as long as he'd got breath, if only I could see his old face again. But I'd have to get a wash first, or he wouldn't know me.

"I suppose it's no good asking "what way do we go now?" We can't go no further-unless we want to ask the orcs for a lift."

"No, no! ' said Gollum. "No use. We can't go further. Smeagol said so. He said: we'll go to the Gate, and then we'll see. And we do see. O yes. my precious, we do see. Smeagol knew hobbits could not go this way. O yes. Smeagol knew '

"Then what the plague did you bring us here for? ' said Sam, not feeling in the mood to be just or reasonable.

"Master said so. Master says: Bring us to the Gate. So good Smeagol does so. Master said so, wise master."

"I did," said Frodo. His face was grim and set. but resolute. He was filthy, haggard, and pinched with weariness, but he cowered no longer, and his eyes were clear. "I said so, because I purpose to enter Mordor, and I know no other way. Therefore I shall go this way. I do not ask anyone to go with me."

"No, no, master! ' wailed Gollum; pawing at him, and seeming in great distress. "No use that way! No use! Don't take the Precious to Him! He'll eat us all, if He gets it, eat all the world. Keep it, nice master, and be kind to Smeagol. Don't let Him have it. Or go away. go to nice places, and give it back to little Smeagol. Yes, yes, master: give it back, eh? Smeagol will keep it safe; he will do lots of good, especially to nice hobbits. Hobbits go home. Don't go to the Gate! '

"I am commanded to go to the land of Mordor, and therefore I shall go," said Frodo. "If there is only one way, then I must take it. What comes after must come."

Sam said nothing. The look on Frodo's face was enough for him he knew that words of his were useless. And after all he never had any real hope in the affair from the beginning; but being a cheerful hobbit he had not needed hope, as long as despair could be postponed. Now they were come to the bitter end. But he had stuck to his master all the way; that was what he had chiefly come for, and he would still stick to him. His master would not go to Mordor alone. Sam would go with him-and at any rate they would get rid of Gollum.

Gollum, however, did not intend to be got rid of, yet. He knelt at Frodo's feet, wringing his hands and squeaking. "Not this way, master! ' he pleaded, "There is another way. O yes indeed there is. Another way. darker, more difficult to find, more secret. But Smeagol knows it. Let Smeagol show you! '

"Another way! ' said Frodo doubtfully, looking down at Gollum with searching eyes.

"Yess! Yess indeed! Therewas another way. Smeagol found it. Let's go and see if it's still there! '

"You have not spoken of this before."

"No. Master did not ask. Master did not say what he meant to do. He does not tell poor Smeagol. He says: Smeagol, take me to the Gate - and then good bye! Smeagol can run away and be good. But now he says: I purpose to enter Mordor this way. So Smeagol is very afraid. He does not want to lose nice master. And he promised, master made him promise, to save the Precious. But master is going to take it to Him, straight to the Black Hand, if master will go this way. So Smeagol must save them both, and he thinks of another way that there was, once upon a time. Nice master. Smeagol very good, always helps."

Sam frowned. If he could have bored holes in Gollum with his eyes, he would have done. His mind was full of doubt. To all appearances Gollum was genuinely distressed and anxious to help Frodo. But Sam, remembering the overheard debate, found it hard to believe that the long submerged Smeagol had come out on top: that voice at any rate had not had the last word in the debate. Sam's guess was that the Smeagol and Gollum halves (or what in his own mind he called Slinker and Stinker) had made a truce and a temporary alliance: neither wanted the Enemy to get the Ring; both wished to keep Frodo from capture, and under their eye, as long as possible - at any rate as long as Stinker still had a chance of laying hands on his "Precious'. Whether there really was another way into Mordor Sam doubted.

"And it's a good thing neither half of the old villain don't know what master means to do," he thought. "If he knew that Mr. Frodo is trying to put an end to his Precious for good and all, there'd be trouble pretty quick, I bet. Anyhow old Stinker is so frightened of the Enemy - and he's under orders of some kind from him, or was - that he'd give us away rather than be caught helping us; and rather than let his Precious be melted, maybe. At least that's my idea. And I hope the master will think it out carefully. He's as wise as any, but he's soft-hearted, that's what he is. It's beyond any Gamgee to guess what he'll do next."

Frodo did not answer Gollum at once. While these doubts were passing through Sam's slow but shrewd mind, he stood gazing out towards the dark cliff of Cirith Gorgor. The hollow in which they had taken refuge was delved in the side of a low hill, at some little height above a long trenchlike valley that lay between it and the outer buttresses of the mountains. In the midst of the valley stood the black foundations of the western watch-tower. By morning-light the roads that converged upon the Gate of Mordor could now be clearly seen, pale and dusty; one winding back northwards; another dwindling eastwards into the mists that clung about the feet of Ered Lithui; and a third that ran towards him. As it bent sharply round the tower, it entered a narrow defile and passed not far below the hollow where he stood. Westward, to his right, it turned, skirting the shoulders of the mountains, and went off southwards into the deep shadows that mantled all the western sides of Ephel Duath; beyond his sight it journeyed on into the narrow land between the mountains and the Great River.

As he gazed Frodo became aware that there was a great stir and movement on the plain. It seemed as if whole armies were on the march, though for the most part they were hidden by the reeks and fumes drifting from the fens and wastes beyond. But here and there he caught the gleam of spears and helmets; and over the levels beside the roads horsemen could be seen riding in many companies. He remembered his vision from afar upon Amon Hen, so few days before, though now it seemed many years ago. Then he knew that the hope that had for one wild moment stirred in his heart was vain. The trumpets had not rung in challenge but in greeting. This was no assault upon the Dark Lord by the men of Gondor, risen like avenging ghosts from the graves of valour long passed away. These were Men of other race, out of the wide Eastlands, gathering to the summons of their Overlord; armies that had encamped before his Gate by night and now marched in to swell his mounting power. As if suddenly made fully aware of the peril of their position, alone, in the growing light of day, so near to this vast menace, Frodo quickly drew his frail grey hood close upon his head, and stepped down into the dell. Then he turned to Gollum.