return

1194 the return of the king
‘There’s something that might be useful,’ he said. ‘He’s
dead: the one that whipped you. Broke his neck, it seems, in
his hurry. Now you draw up the ladder, if you can, Mr.
Frodo; and don’t you let it down till you hear me call the
pass-word. Elbereth I’ll call. What the Elves say. No orc would
say that.’
Frodo sat for a while and shivered, dreadful fears chasing
one another through his mind. Then he got up, drew the
grey elven-cloak about him, and to keep his mind occupied,
began to walk to and fro, prying and peering into every corner
of his prison.
It was not very long, though fear made it seem an hour at
least, before he heard Sam’s voice calling softly from below:
Elbereth, Elbereth. Frodo let down the light ladder. Up came
Sam, puffing, heaving a great bundle on his head. He let it
fall with a thud.
‘Quick now, Mr. Frodo!’ he said. ‘I’ve had a bit of a search
to find anything small enough for the likes of us. We’ll have
to make do. But we must hurry. I’ve met nothing alive, and
I’ve seen nothing, but I’m not easy. I think this place is being
watched. I can’t explain it, but well: it feels to me as if one of
those foul flying Riders was about, up in the blackness where
he can’t be seen.’
He opened the bundle. Frodo looked in disgust at the
contents, but there was nothing for it: he had to put the things
on, or go naked. There were long hairy breeches of some
unclean beast-fell, and a tunic of dirty leather. He drew them
on. Over the tunic went a coat of stout ring-mail, short for a
full-sized orc, too long for Frodo and heavy. About it he
clasped a belt, at which there hung a short sheath holding
a broad-bladed stabbing-sword. Sam had brought several
orc-helmets. One of them fitted Frodo well enough, a black
cap with iron rim, and iron hoops covered with leather upon
which the Evil Eye was painted in red above the beaklike
nose-guard.
‘The Morgul-stuff, Gorbag’s gear, was a better fit and