of leather。 It was clear as spring water and had no taste； and it did not feel either cool or warm in the mouth； but strength and vigour seemed to flow into all their limbs as they drank it。 Eaten after that draught the stale bread and dried fruit （which was now all that they had left） seemed to satisfy their hunger better than many a good breakfast in the Shire had done。
They had rested rather less than five hours when they took to the Road again。 Glorfindel still urged them on； and only allowed two brief halts during the day's march。 In this way they covered almost twenty miles before nightfall； and came to a point where the Road bent right and ran down towards the bottom of the valley； now making straight for the Bruinen。 So far there had been no sign or sound of pursuit that the hobbits could see or hear； but often Glorfindel would halt and listen for a moment； if they lagged behind； and a look of anxiety clouded his face。 Once or twice he spoke to Strider in the elftongue。
But however anxious their guides might be； it was plain that the hobbits could go no further that night。 They were stumbling along dizzy with weariness； and unable to think of anything but their feet and legs。 Frodo's pain had redoubled； and during the day things about him faded to shadows of ghostly grey。 He almost weled the ing of night； for then the world seemed less pale and empty。
The hobbits were still weary； when they set out again early next morning。 There were many miles yet to go between them and the Ford； and they hobbled forward at the best pace they could manage。
'Our peril will be greatest just ere we reach the river；' said Glorfindel； 'for my heart warns me that the pursuit is now swift behind us； and other danger may be waiting by the Ford。'
The Road was still running steadily downhill； and there was now in places much grass at either side； in which the hobbits walked when they could； to ease their tired feet。 In the late afternoon they came to a place where the Road went suddenly under the dark shadow of tall pirees； and then plunged into a deep cutting with steep moist walls of red stone。 Echoes ran along as they hurried forward； and there seemed to be a sound of many footfalls following their own。 All at once； as if through a gate of light； the Road ran out again from the end of the tunnel into the open。 There at the bottom of a sharp incline they saw before them a long flat mile； and beyond that the Ford of Rivendell。 On the further side was a steep brown bank； threaded by a winding path； and behind that the tall mountains climbed； shoulder above shoulder； and peak beyond peak； into the fading sky。
There was still an echo as of following feet in the cutting behind them； a rushing noise as if a wind were rising and pouring through the branches of the pines。 One moment Glorfindel turned and listened； then he sprang forward with a loud cry。
'Fly！' he called。 'Fly！ The enemy is upon us！'
The white horse leaped forward。 The hobbits ran down the slope。 Glorfindel and Strider followed as rearguard。 They were only half way across the flat； when suddenly there was a noise of horses galloping。 Out of the gate in the trees that they had just left rode a Black Rider。 He reined his horse in； and halted； swaying in his saddle。 Another followed him； and then another； then again two more。
'Ride forward！ Ride！' cried Glorfindel to Frodo。
He did not obey at once； for a strange reluctance seized him。 Checking the horse to a walk； he turned and looked back。 The Riders seemed to sit upon their great steeds like threatening statues upon a hill； dark and solid； while all the woods and land about them receded as if into a mist。 Suddenly he knew in his heart that they were silently manding him to wait。 Then at once fear and hatred awoke in him。 His hand left the bridle and gripped the hilt of his sword； and with a red flash he drew it。
'Ride on！ Ride on！' cried Glorfindel； and then loud and clear he called to the horse in the elftongue： noro lim； noro lim； Asfaloth！
At once the white horse sprang away and sped like the wind along the last lap of the Road。 At the same moment the black horses leaped down the hill in pursuit； and from the Riders came a terrible cry； such as Frodo had heard filling the woods with horror in the Eastfarthing far away。 It was answered； and to the dismay of Frodo and his friends out from the trees and rocks away on the left four other Riders came flying。 Two rode towards Frodo： two galloped madly towards the Ford to cut off his escape。 They seemed to him to run like the wind and to grow swiftly larger and darker； as their courses converged with his。
Frodo looked back for a moment over his shoulder。 He could no longer see his friends。 The Riders behind were falling back： even their great steeds were no match in speed for the white elfhorse of Glorfindel。 He looked forward again； and hope faded。 There seemed no chance of reaching the Ford before he was cut off by the others that had lain in ambush。 He could see them clearly now： they appeared to have cast aside their hoods and black cloaks； and they were robed in white and grey。 Swords were naked in their pale hands； helms were on their heads。 Their cold eyes glittered； and they called to him with fell voices。
Fear now filled all Frodo's mind。 He thought no longer of his sword。 No cry came from him。 He shut his eyes and clung to the horse's mane。 The wind whistled in his ears； and the bells upon the harness rang wild and shrill。 A breath of deadly cold pierced him like a spear； as with a last spurt； like a flash of white fire； the elfhorse speeding as if on wings； passed right before the face of the foremost Rider。
Frodo heard the splash of water。 It foamed about his feet。 He felt the quick heave and surge as the horse left the river and struggled up the stony path。 He was climbing the steep bank。 He was across the Ford。
But the pursuers were close behind。 At the top of the bank the horse halted and turned about neighing fiercely。 There were Nine Riders at the water's edge below； and Frodo's spirit quailed before the threat of their uplifted faces。 He knew of nothing that would prevent them from crossing as easily as he had done； and he felt that it was useless to try to escape over the long uncertain path from the Ford to the edge of Rivendell； if once the Riders crossed。 In any case he felt that he was manded urgently to halt。 Hatred again stirred in him； but he had no longer the strength to refuse。
Suddenly the foremost Rider spurred his horse forward。 It checked at the water and reared up。 With a great effort Frodo sat upright and brandished his sword。
'Go back！' he cried。 'Go back to the Land of Mordor； and follow me no more！ ' His voice sounded thin and shrill in his own ears。 The Riders halted； but Frodo had not the power of Bombadil。 His enemies laughed at him with a harsh and chilling laughter。 'e back！ e back！' they called。 'To Mordor we will take you！'
'Go back！' he whispered。
'The Ring！ The Ring！' they cried with deadly voices； and immediately their leader urged his horse forward into the water； followed closely by two others。
'By Elbereth and Lúthien the Fair；' said Frodo with a last effort； lifting up his sword； 'you shall have neither the Ring nor me！'
Then the leader； who was now half across the Ford； stood up menacing in his stirrups； and raised up his hand。 Frodo was stricken dumb。 He felt his tongue cleave to his mouth； and his heart labouring。 His sword broke and fell out of his shaking hand。 The elfhorse reared and snorted。 The foremost of the black horses had almost set foot upon the shore。
At that moment there came a roaring and a rushing： a noise of loud waters rolling many stones。 Dimly Frodo saw the river below him rise； and down along its course there came a plumed cavalry of waves。 White flames seemed to Frodo to flicker on their crests and he half fancied that he saw amid the water white riders upon white horses with frothing manes。 The three Riders that were still in the midst of the Ford were overwhelmed： they disappeared； buried suddenly under angry foam。 Those that were behind drew back in dismay。
With his last failing senses Frodo heard cries； and it seemed to him that he saw； beyond the Riders that hesitated on the shore； a shining figure of white light； and behind it ran small shadowy forms waving flames； that flared red in the grey mist that was falling over the world。
The black horses were filled with madness； and leaping forward in terror they bore their riders into the rushing flood。 Their piercing cries were drowned in the roaring of the river as it carried them away。 Then Frodo felt himself falling； and the roaring and confusion seemed to rise and engulf him together with his enemies。 He heard and saw no more。
Chapter 1
Many Meetings
Frodo woke and found himself lying in bed。 At first he thought that he had slept late； after a long unpleasant dream that still hovered on the edge of memory。 Or perhaps he had been ill？ But the ceiling looked strange； it was flat； and it had dark beams richly carved。 He lay a little while longer looking at patches of sunlight on the wall； and listening to the sound of a waterfall。
'Where am I； and what is the time？' he said aloud to the ceiling。 'In the House of Elrond； and it is ten o'clock in the morning。' said a voice。 'It is the morning of October the twentyfourth； if you want to know。'
'Gandalf！' cried Frodo； sitting up。 There was the old wizard； sitting in a chair by the open window。
'Yes；' he said； 'I am here。 And you are lucky to be here； too； after all the absurd things you have done since you left home。' Frodo lay down again。 He felt too fortable and peaceful to argue； and in any case he did not think he would get the better of an argument。 He was fully awake now； and the memory of his journey was returning： the disastrous 'short cut' through the Old Forest the 'accident' at The Prancing Pony； and his madness in putting on the Ring in the dell under Weathertop。 While he was thinking of all these things and trying in vain to bring his memory down to his arriving in Rivendell； there was a long silence； broken only by the soft puffs of Gandalf's pipe； as he blew white smokerings out of the window。
'Where's Sam？' Frodo asked at length。 'And are the others all right？'
'Yes； they are all safe and sound；' answered Gandalf。 'Sam was here until I sent him off to get some rest； about half an hour ago。'
'What happened at the Ford？' said Frodo。 'It all seemed so dim somehow； and it still does。'
'Yes； it would。 You were beginning to fade；' answered Gandalf。 'The wound was overing you at last。 A few more hours and you would have been beyond our aid。 But you have some strength in you； my dear hobbit！ As you showed in the Barrow。 That was touch and go： perhaps the most dangerous moment of all。 I wish you could have held out at Weathertop。'
'You seem to know a great deal already；' said Frodo。 'I have not spoken to the others about the Barrow。 At first it was too horrible； and afterwards there were other things to think about。 How do you know about it？'
'You have talked long in your sleep； Frodo；' said Gandalf gently； 'and it has not been hard for me to read your mind and memory。 Do not worry！ Though I said 〃absurd〃 just now； I