towers

828 the two towers
‘No, sweet one. See, my precious: if we has it, then we can
escape, even from Him, eh? Perhaps we grows very strong,
stronger than Wraiths. Lord Sméagol? Gollum the Great?
The Gollum! Eat fish every day, three times a day, fresh from
the sea. Most Precious Gollum! Must have it. We wants it,
we wants it, we wants it!’
‘But there’s two of them. They’ll wake too quick and kill
us,’ whined Sméagol in a last effort. ‘Not now. Not yet.’
‘We wants it! But’ – and here there was a long pause, as if
a new thought had wakened. ‘Not yet, eh? Perhaps not. She
might help. She might, yes.’
‘No, no! Not that way!’ wailed Sméagol.
‘Yes! We wants it! We wants it!’
Each time that the second thought spoke, Gollum’s long
hand crept out slowly, pawing towards Frodo, and then was
drawn back with a jerk as Sméagol spoke again. Finally both
arms, with long fingers flexed and twitching, clawed towards
his neck.
Sam had lain still, fascinated by this debate, but watching
every move that Gollum made from under his half-closed
eye-lids. To his simple mind ordinary hunger, the desire to
eat hobbits, had seemed the chief danger in Gollum. He
realized now that it was not so: Gollum was feeling the terrible
call of the Ring. The Dark Lord was He, of course; but Sam
wondered who She was. One of the nasty friends the little
wretch had made in his wanderings, he supposed. Then he
forgot the point, for things had plainly gone far enough, and
were getting dangerous. A great heaviness was in all his limbs,
but he roused himself with an effort and sat up. Something
warned him to be careful and not to reveal that he had overheard
the debate. He let out a loud sigh and gave a huge
yawn.
‘What’s the time?’ he said sleepily.
Gollum sent out a long hiss through his teeth. He stood up
for a moment, tense and menacing; and then he collapsed,
falling forward on to all fours and crawling up the bank of