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still and breathless； as if all the Vale of Anduin waited for the onset of a ruinous storm。
About the eleventh hour； released at last for a while from service。 Pippin came out and went in
search of food and drink to cheer his heavy heart and make his task of waiting more supportable。 In
the messes he met Beregond again； who had just e from an errand over the Pelennor out to the
Guard…towers upon the Causeway。 Together they strolled out to the walls； for Pippin felt
imprisoned indoors； and stifled even in the lofty citadel。 Now they sat side by side again in the
embrasure looking eastward； where they had eaten and talked the day before。
It was the sunset…hour； but the great pall had now stretched far into the West； and only as it sank
at last into the Sea did the Sun escape to send out a brief farewell gleam before the night； even as
Frodo saw it at the Cross…roads touching the head of the fallen king。 But to the fields of the
Pelennor； under the shadow of Mindolluin； there came no gleam： they were brown and drear。
Already it seemed years to Pippin since he had sat there before； in some half…forgotten time
when he had still been a hobbit； a light…hearted wanderer touched little by the perils he had passed
through。 Now he was one small soldier in a city preparing for a great assault； clad in the proud but
sombre manner of the Tower of Guard。
In some other time and place Pippin might have been pleased with his new array； but he knew
now that he was taking part in no play； he was in deadly earnest the servant of a grim master in the
greatest peril。 The hauberk was burdensome； and the helm weighed upon his head。 His cloak he had
cast aside upon the seat。 He turned his tired gaze away from the darkling fields below and yawned；
and then he sighed。
'You are weary of this day？' said Beregond。
'Yes；' said Pippin； 'very： tired out with idleness and waiting。 I have kicked my heels at the door
of my master's chamber for many slow hours； while he has debated with Gandalf and the Prince
and other great persons。 And I'm not used； Master Beregond； to waiting hungry on others while
they eat。 It is a sore trial for a hobbit； that。 No doubt you will think I should feel the honour more
deeply。 But what is the good of such honour？ Indeed what is the good even of food and drink under
this creeping shadow？ What does it mean？ The very air seems thick and brown！ Do you often have
such glooms when the wind is in the East？'
'Nay；' said Beregond； 'this is no weather of the world。 This is some device of his malice； some
broil of fume from the Mountain of Fire that he sends to darken hearts and counsel。 And so it doth
indeed。 I wish the Lord Faramir would return。 He would not be dismayed。 But now； who knows if
he will ever e back across the River out of the Darkness？'
'Yes；' said Pippin； 'Gandalf； too； is anxious。 He was disappointed。 I think； not to find Faramir
here。 And where has he got to himself？ He left the Lord's council before the noon…meal； and in no
good mood either； I thought。 Perhaps he has some foreboding of bad news。'
Suddenly as they talked they were stricken dumb； frozen as it were to listening stones。 Pippin
cowered down with his hands pressed to his ears； but Beregond； who had been looking out from the
battlement as he spoke of Faramir； remained there； stiffened； staring out with starting eyes。 Pippin
knew the shuddering cry that he had heard： it was the same that he had heard long ago in the
Marish of the Shire； but now it was grown in power and hatred； piercing the heart with a poisonous
despair。
At last Beregond spoke with an effort。 'They have e！' he said。 'Take courage and look！ There
are fell things below。'
Reluctantly Pippin climbed on to the seat and looked out over the wall。 The Pelennor lay dim
beneath him； fading away to the scarce guessed line of the Great River。 But now wheeling swiftly
across it； like shadows of untimely night； he saw in the middle airs below him five birdlike forms；
horrible as carrion…fowl yet greater than eagles； cruel as death。 Now they swooped near； venturing
almost within bowshot of the walls； now they circled away。
'Black Riders！' muttered Pippin。 'Black Riders of the air！ But see； Beregond！' he cried。 'They are
looking for something； surely？ See how they wheel and swoop； always down to that point over
there！ And can you see something moving on the ground？ Dark little things。 Yes； men on horses：
four or five。 Ah！ I cannot stand it！ Gandalf！ Gandalf save us！'
Another long screech rose and fell； and he threw himself back again from the wall； panting like
a hunted animal。 Faint and seemingly remote through that shuddering cry he heard winding up from
below the sound of a trumpet ending on a long high note。
'Faramir！ The Lord Faramir！ It is his call！' cried Beregond。 'Brave heart！ But how can he win to
the Gate； if these foul hell…hawks have other weapons than fear？ But look！ They hold on。 They will
make the Gate。 No！ the horses are running mad。 Look！ the men are thrown； they are running on
foot。 No； one is still up； but he rides back to the others。 That will be the Captain： he can master both
beasts and men。 Ah！ there one of the foul things is stooping on him。 Help！ help！ Will no one go out
to him？ Faramir！'
With that Beregond sprang away and ran off into the gloom。 Ashamed of his terror； while
Beregond of the Guard thought first of the captain whom he loved； Pippin got up and peered out。 At
that moment he caught a flash of white and silver ing from the North； like a small star down on
the dusky fields。 It moved with the speed of an arrow and grew as it came； converging swiftly with
the flight of the four men towards the Gate。 It seemed to Pippin that a pale light was spread about it
and the heavy shadows gave way before it； and then as it drew near he thought that he heard； like
an echo in the walls； a great voice calling。
'Gandalf！' he cried。 'Gandalf！ He always turns up when things are darkest。 Go on！ Go on； White
Rider！ Gandalf； Gandalf！' he shouted wildly； like an onlooker at a great race urging on a runner
who is far beyond encouragement。
But now the dark swooping shadows were aware of the newer。 One wheeled towards him；
but it seemed to Pippin that he raised his hand； and from it a shaft of white light stabbed upwards。
The Nazg？l gave a long wailing cry and swerved away； and with that the four others wavered； and
then rising in swift spirals they passed away eastward vanishing into the lowering cloud above； and
down on the Pelennor it seemed for a while less dark。
Pippin watched； and he saw the horseman and the White Rider meet and halt； waiting for those
on foot。 Men now hurried out to them from the City； and soon they all passed from sight under the
outer walls； and he knew that they were entering the Gate。 Guessing that they would e at once
to the Tower and the Steward； he hurried to the entrance of the citadel。 There he was joined by
many others who had watched the race and the rescue from the high walls。
It was not long before a clamour was heard in the streets leading up from the outer circles； and
there was much cheering and crying of the names of Faramir and Mithrandir。 Presently Pippin saw
torches； and followed by a press of people two horsemen riding slowly： one was in white but
shining no longer； pale in the twilight as if his fire was spent or veiled； the other was dark and his
head was bowed。 They dismounted； and as grooms took Shadowfax and the other horse； they
walked forward to the sentinel at the gate： Gandalf steadily； his grey cloak flung back； and a fire
still smouldering in his eyes； the other； clad all in green； slowly； swaying a little as a weary or a
wounded man。
Pippin pressed forward as they passed under the lamp beneath the gate…arch； and when he saw
the pale face of Faramir he caught his breath。 It was the face of one who has been assailed by a
great fear or anguish； but has mastered it and now is quiet。 Proud and grave he stood for a moment
as he spoke to the guard； and Pippin gazing at him saw how closely he resembled his brother
Boromir – whom Pippin had liked from the first； admiring the great man's lordly but kindly manner。
Yet suddenly for Faramir his heart was strangely moved with a feeling that he had not known
before。 Here was one with an air of high nobility such as Aragorn at times revealed； less high
perhaps； yet also less incalculable and remote： one of the Kings of Men born into a later time； but
touched with the wisdom and sadness of the Elder Race。 He knew now why Beregond spoke his
name with love。 He was a captain that men would follow； that he would follow； even under the
shadow of the black wings。
'Faramir！' he cried aloud with the others。 'Faramir！' And Faramir catching his strange voice
among the clamour of the men of the City； turned and looked down at him and was amazed。
'Whence e you？' he said。 'A halfling； and in the livery of the Tower！ Whence。。。？'
But with that Gandalf stepped to his side and spoke。 'He came with me from the land of the
Halflings；' he said。 'He came with me。 But let us not tarry here。 There is much to say and to do； and
you are weary。 He shall e with us。 Indeed he must； for if he does not forget his new duties more
easily than I do； he must attend on his lord again within this hour。 e； Pippin； follow us！'
So at length they came to the private chamber of the Lord of the City。 There deep seats were set
about a brazier of charcoal； and wine was brought； and there Pippin； hardly noticed； stood behind
the chair of Denethor and felt his weariness little； so eagerly did he listen to all that was said。
When Faramir had taken white bread and drunk a draught of wine； he sat upon a low chair at his
father's left hand。 Removed a little upon the other side sat Gandalf in a chair of carven wood； and
he seemed at first to be asleep。 For at the beginning Faramir spoke only of the errand upon which
he had been sent out ten days before； and he brought tidings of Ithilien and of movements of the
Enemy and his allies； and he told of the fight on the road when the men of Harad and their great
beast were overthrown： a captain reporting to his master such matters as had often been heard
before； small things of border…war that now seemed useless and petty； shorn of their renown。
Then suddenly Faramir looked at Pippin。 'But now we e to strange matters；' he said。 'For this
is not the first halfling that I have seen walking out of northern legends into the Southlands。'
At that Gandalf sat up and gripped the arms of his chair； but he said nothing； and with a look
stopped the exclamation on Pippin's lips。 Denethor looked at their faces and nodded his head； as
though in sign that he had read much there before it was spoken。 Slowly； while the others sat silent
and still； Faramir told his tale； with his eyes for the most part on Gandalf； though now and again his
glance strayed to Pippin； as if to refresh his memory of others that he had seen。
As his story was unfolded of his meeting with Frodo and his servant and of the events at
Henneth Ann？n； Pippin became aware that Gandalf's hands were trembling as they clutched the
carven wood。 White they seemed now and very old； and as he looked at them； suddenly with a thrill
of fear Pippin knew that Gandalf； Gandalf himself； was troubled； even afraid。 The air of the room
was close and still。 At last when Faramir spoke of his parting with the travellers； and of their
resolve to go to Cirith Ungol； his voice fell； and he shook his head and sighed。 Then Gandalf
sprang up。
'Cirith Ungol？ Morgul Vale？' he said。 'The time； Faramir； the time？ When did you part with
them？ When would they reach that accursed valley？'
'I parted with them in the morning two days ago；' said Faramir。 'It is fifteen leagues thence to the
vale of the Morgulduin； if they went straight south； and then they would be still five leagues
westward of the accursed Tower。 At swiftest they could not e there before today； and maybe
they have not e there yet。 Indeed I see what you fear。 But the dark