Holmes
Sherlock

South Weathertop

Lestrade and Tobias Gregson got up and walked away from the fire. The Ring-bearer remained seated in silence; his eyes rested broodingly on the burning wood, and despite the chill I perceived miniscule droplets on his brow. Sitting beside him, I pulled out my service revolver and ascertained that it was loaded. Holmes was watching the moonlight on the hill intently. All seemed quiet and still, but I felt a cold dread creeping over my heart. As I put another stick of wood on the fire, Lestrade came running back from the edge of the dell.   "I do not know what it is", he said, "but suddenly I felt afraid. I would not go outside this dell for all the tea in China; I felt that something was creeping up the slope."   "Did you see anything?" inquired Holmes, springing to his feet.   "I saw something", said Gregson; "or I thought I did - away westwards where the moonlight is falling on the flats beyond the shadow of the hill-tops. I *thought* there were two or three black shapes. They seemed to be be moving this way."   "Keep close to the fire, with your faces outward!" cried Holmes. "Get some of the longer sticks ready in your hands!"   Over the lip of the little dell, on the side away from the hill, we felt, rather than saw, a shadow rise, one shadow or more than one. I strained my eyes, and the shadows seemed to grow. Soon there could be no doubt: three or four tall black figures were standing there on the slope, looking down on us. I had the impression of a faint hiss as of venomous breath, and felt a thin piercing chill. Then the shapes slowly advanced.   Terror overcame Lestrade and Gregson, and they threw themselves flat on the ground. The Ring-bearer remained standing, though visibly quaking. A strange glitter was in his eyes, and his mouth worked as if resisting mounting panic and temptation at the same time. Suddenly, he sprang away from the fire and raced towards the menacing shapes.   "No! Do not go there!" said Holmes; but it was too late. The racing figure approached the intruders, and then disappeared. The moon shone down on the landscape and the still advancing frames, but no trace of our companion could be seen. Holmes clenched his fists and ran towards the spot. Not without a twinge of doubt, I followed.   Suddenly, a knife gleamed in the dark; it was impossible to tell who or what was wielding it. I heard the Ring-bearer shout aloud: "O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!". The black shapes backed away and then fled before we came up to the place where they had been standing. Hesitantly, Lestrade and Gregson came up after us.   A sight that filled us with horror and pity materialized before our eyes. There, lying on the grass, was the Ring-bearer, unconscious, his hand clutching the ominous ring.   "They have killed Kenny!" exclaimed Lestrade.   "The bastards!" shouted Gregson. Öjevind Lång