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the passage of the marshes 823<br />

White Face. Then Frodo and Sam staring at the sky, breathing<br />

deeply of the fresher air, saw it come: a small cloud flying<br />

from the accursed hills; a black shadow loosed from Mordor;<br />

a vast shape winged and ominous. It scudded across the<br />

moon, and with a deadly cry went away westward, outrunning<br />

the wind in its fell speed.<br />

They fell forward, grovelling heedlessly on the cold earth.<br />

But the shadow of horror wheeled and returned, passing<br />

lower now, right above them, sweeping the fen-reek with its<br />

ghastly wings. And then it was gone, flying back to Mordor<br />

with the speed of the wrath of Sauron; and behind it the<br />

wind roared away, leaving the Dead Marshes bare and bleak.<br />

The naked waste, as far as the eye could pierce, even to the<br />

distant menace of the mountains, was dappled with the fitful<br />

moonlight.<br />

Frodo and Sam got up, rubbing their eyes, like children<br />

wakened from an evil dream to find the familiar night still<br />

over the world. But Gollum lay on the ground as if he had<br />

been stunned. They roused him with difficulty, and for some<br />

time he would not lift his face, but knelt forward on his<br />

elbows, covering the back of his head with his large flat hands.<br />

‘Wraiths!’ he wailed. ‘Wraiths on wings! The Precious is<br />

their master. They see everything, everything. Nothing can<br />

hide from them. Curse the White Face! And they tell Him<br />

everything. He sees, He knows. Ach, gollum, gollum, gollum!’<br />

It was not until the moon had sunk, westering far away<br />

beyond Tol Brandir, that he would get up or make a move.<br />

From that time on Sam thought that he sensed a change<br />

in Gollum again. He was more fawning and would-be<br />

friendly; but Sam surprised some strange looks in his eyes at<br />

times, especially towards Frodo; and he went back more and<br />

more into his old manner of speaking. And Sam had another<br />

growing anxiety. Frodo seemed to be weary, weary to the<br />

point of exhaustion. He said nothing, indeed he hardly spoke<br />

at all; and he did not complain, but he walked like one who<br />

carries a load, the weight of which is ever increasing; and he

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