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Terror overcame Pippin and Merry； and they threw themselves flat on the ground。 Sam shrank to Frodo's side。 Frodo was hardly less terrified than his panions； he was quaking as if he was bitter cold； but his terror was swallowed up in a sudden temptation to put on the Ring。 The desire to do this laid hold of him； and he could think of nothing else。 He did not fet the Barrow； nor the message of Gandalf； but something seemed to be pelling him to disregard all warnings； and he longed to yield。 Not with the hope of escape； or of doing anything； either good or bad： he simply felt that he must take the Ring and put it on his finger。 He could not speak。 He felt Sam looking at him； as if he knew that his master was in some great trouble； but he could not turn towards him。 He shut his eyes and struggled for a while； but resistance became unbearable； and at last he slowly drew out the chain； and slipped the Ring on the forefinger of his left hand。
Immediately； though everything else remained as before； dim and dark； the shapes became terribly clear。 He was able to see beneath their black wrappings。 There were five tall figures： two standing on the lip of the dell； three advancing。 In their white faces burned keen and merciless eyes； under their mantles were long grey robes； upon their grey hairs were helms of silver； in their haggard hands were swords of steel。 Their eyes fell on him and pierced him； as they rushed towards him。 Desperate； he drew his own sword； and it seemed to him that it flickered red； as if it was a firebrand。 Two of the figures halted。 The third was taller than the others： his hair was long and gleaming and on his helm was a crown。 In one hand he held a long sword； and in the other a knife； both the knife and the hand that held it glowed with a pale light。 He sprang forward and bore down on Frodo。
At that moment Frodo threw himself forward on the ground； and he heard himself crying aloud： O Elbereth！ Gilthoniel！ At the same time he struck at the feet of his enemy。 A shrill cry rang out in the night； and he felt a pain like a dart of poisoned ice pierce his left shoulder。 Even as he swooned he caught； as through a swirling mist； a glimpse of Strider leaping out of the darkness with a flaming brand of wood in either hand。 With a last effort Frodo； dropping his sword； slipped the Ring from his finger and closed his right hand tight upon it。
Chapter 12
Flight to the Ford
When Frodo came to himself he was still clutching the Ring desperately。 He was lying by the fire； which was now piled high and burning brightly。 His three panions were bending over him。 'What has happened？ Where is the pale king？' he asked wildly。 They were too overjoyed to hear him speak to answer for a while； nor did they understand his question。 At length he gathered from Sam that they had seen nothing but the vague shadowy shapes ing towards them。 Suddenly to his horror Sam found that his master had vanished； and at that moment a black shadow rushed past him； and he fell。 He heard Frodo's voice； but it seemed to e from a great distance； or from under the earth； crying out strange words。 They saw nothing more； until they stumbled over the body of Frodo； lying as if dead； face downwards on the grass with his sword beneath him。 Strider ordered them to pick him up and lay him near the fire； and then he disappeared。 That was now a good while ago。
Sam plainly was beginning to have doubts again about Strider； but while they were talking he returned； appearing suddenly out of the shadows。 They started； and Sam drew his sword and stood over Frodo； but Strider knelt down swiftly at his side。
'I am not a Black Rider； Sam；' he said gently； 'nor in league with them。 I have been trying to discover something of their movements； but I have found nothing。 I cannot think why they have gone and do not attack again。 But there is no feeling of their presence anywhere at hand。'
When he heard what Frodo had to tell； he became full of concern； and shook his head and sighed。 Then he ordered Pippin and Merry to heat as much water as they could in their small kettles； and to bathe the wound with it。 'Keep the fire going well； and keep Frodo warm！' he said。 Then he got up and walked away； and called Sam to him。 'I think I understand things better now；' he said in a low voice。 'There seem only to have been five of the enemy。 Why they were not all here； I don't know； but I don't think they expected to be resisted。 They have drawn off for the time being。 But not far； I fear。 They will e again another night； if we cannot escape。 They are only waiting； because they think that their purpose is almost acplished； and that the Ring cannot fly much further。 I fear； Sam； that they believe your master has a deadly wound that will subdue him to their will。 We shall see！' Sam choked with tears。 'Don't despair！' said Strider。 'You must trust me now。 Your Frodo is made of sterner stuff than I had guessed； though Gandalf hinted that it might prove so。 He is not slain； and I think he will resist the evil power of the wound longer than his enemies expect。 I will do all I can to help and heal him。 Guard him well； while I am away！' He hurried off and disappeared again into the darkness。
Frodo dozed； though the pain of his wound was slowly growing； and a deadly chill was spreading from his shoulder to his arm and side。 His friends watched over him； warming him； and bathing his wound。 The night passed slowly and wearily。 Dawn was growing in the sky； and the dell was filling with grey light； when Strider at last returned。
'Look！' he cried； and stooping he lifted from the ground a black cloak that had lain there hidden by the darkness。 A foot above the lower hem there was a slash。 'This was the stroke of Frodo's sword；' he said。 'The only hurt that it did to his enemy； I fear； for it is unharmed； but all blades perish that pierce that dreadful King。 More deadly to him was the name of Elbereth。'
'And more deadly to Frodo was this！' He stooped again and lifted up a long thin knife。 There was a cold gleam in it。 As Strider raised it they saw that near the end its edge was notched and the point was broken off。 But even as he held it up in the growing light； they gazed in astonishment； for the blade seemed to melt； and vanished like a smoke in the air； leaving only the hilt in Strider's hand。 'Alas！' he cried。 'It was this accursed knife that gave the wound。 Few now have the skill in healing to match such evil weapons。 But I will do what I can。'
He sat down on the ground； and taking the daggerhilt laid it on his knees； and he sang over it a slow song in a strange tongue。 Then setting it aside； he turned to Frodo and in a soft tone spoke words the others could not catch。 From the pouch at his belt he drew out the long leaves of a plant。
'These leaves；' he said； 'I have walked far to find； for this plant does not grow in the bare hills； but in the thickets away south of the Road I found it in the dark by the scent of its leaves。' He crushed a leaf in his fingers； and it gave out a sweet and pungent fragrance。 'It is fortunate that I could find it； for it is a healing plant that the Men of the West brought to Middle earth。 Athelas they named it； and it grows now sparsely and only near places where they dwelt or camped of old； and it is not known in the North； except to some of those who wander in the Wild。 It has great virtues； but over such a wound as this its healing powers may be small。'
He threw the leaves into boiling water and bathed Frodo's shoulder。 The fragrance of the steam was refreshing； and those that were unhurt felt their minds calmed and cleared。 The herb had also some power over the wound； for Frodo felt the pain and also the sense of frozen cold lessen in his side； but the life did not return to his arm； and he could not raise or use his hand。 He bitterly regretted his foolishness； and reproached himself for weakness of will； for he now perceived that in putting on the Ring he obeyed not his own desire but the manding wish of his enemies。 He wondered if he would remain maimed for life； and how they would now manage to continue their journey。 He fell too weak to stand。
The others were discussing this very question。 They quickly decided to leave Weathertop as soon as possible。 'I think now；' said Strider； 'that the enemy has been watching this place for some days。 If Gandalf ever came here； then he must have been forced to ride away； and he will not return。 In any case we are in great peril here after dark； since the attack of last night； and we can hardly meet greater danger wherever we go。'
As soon as the daylight was full； they had some hurried food and packed。 It was impossible for Frodo to walk； so they divided the greater part of their baggage among the four of them； and put Frodo on the pony。 In the last few days the poor beast had improved wonderfully； it already seemed fatter and stronger； and had begun to show an affection for its new masters； especially for Sam。 Bill Ferny's treatment must have been very hard for the journey in the wild to seem so much better than its former life。
They started off in a southerly direction。 This would mean crossing the Road； but。 it ore wooded country。 And they needed fuel； for Strider said that Frodo must be