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Far behind the battle the River had been swiftly bridged, and all day ear of war had poured across Now at last in the uard passed through the trenches of fire by many devious paths that had been left between them On they came, reckless of their loss as they approached, still bunched and herded, within the range of bowmen on the wall But indeed there were too fe left there to do theht of the fires showed up many a mark for archers of such skill as Gondor once had boasted Then perceiving that the valour of the City was already beaten down, the hidden Captain put forth his strength Slowly the great siege-towers built in Osgiliath rolled forward through the dark

Messengers caain to the chamber in the White Tower, and Pippin let theent Denethor turned his head slowly from Faramir’s face, and looked at them silently

‘The first circle of the City is burning, lord,’ they said ‘What are your commands? You are still the Lord and Steward Not all will follow Mithrandir Men are flying fro them unmanned’

‘Why? Why do the fools fly?’ said Denethor ‘Better to burn sooner than late, for burn we o now to my pyre Toslow sleep of death es before ever a ship sailed hither from the West The West has failed Go back and burn!’

The ers without bow or answer turned and fled

Now Denethor stood up and released the fevered hand of Fara,’ he said sadly ‘The house of his spirit cru softly towards Pippin he looked down at him

‘Farewell!’ he said ‘Farewell, Peregrin son of Paladin! Your service has been short, and now it is drawing to an end I release you from the little that remains Go now, and die in ay seems best to you And hoht you to this death Send for o Farewell!’

‘I will not say farewell,And then suddenly hobbit-like once more, he stood up and looked the old man in the eyes ‘I will take your leave, sir,’ he said; ‘for I want to see Gandalf veryuntil he despairs of life But from my word and your service I do not wish to be released while you live And if they come at last to the Citadel, I hope to be here and stand beside you and earn perhaps the ariven me’

‘Do as you will, Master Halfling,’ said Denethor ‘But my life is broken Send for my servants!’ He turned back to Faramir

Pippin left him and called for the servants, and they ca and fair; yet they trembled at the summons But in a quiet voice Denethor bade them lay warm coverlets on Fara up the bed they bore it from the chamber Slowly they paced to trouble the feveredon a staff, followed them; and last came Pippin

Out from the White Tower they walked, as if to a funeral, out into the darkness, where the overhanging cloud was lit beneath with flickers of dull red Softly they paced the great courtyard, and at a word from Denethor halted beside the Withered Tree

All was silent, save for the rumour of war in the City down below, and they heard the water dripping sadly from the dead branches into the dark pool Then they went on through the Citadel gate, where the sentinel stared at the ard they cath to a door in the rearall of the sixth circle Fen Hollen it was called, for it was kept ever shut save at tiht use that way, or those who bore the token of the tombs and tended the houses of the dead Beyond it went a winding road that descended in many curves down to the narrow land under the shadow of Mindolluin’s precipice where stood the s and of their Stewards

A porter sat in a little house beside the way, and with fear in his eyes he ca a lantern in his hand At the Lord’s co back; and they passed through, taking the lantern fro road between ancient walls andlantern-beam Their slow feet echoed as they walked down, down, until at last they came to the Silent Street, Rath Dínen, between pale do dead; and they entered into the House of the Stewards and set down their burden

There Pippin, staring uneasily about him, saw that he was in a wide vaulted chareat shadows that the little lantern threw upon its shrouded walls And dimly to be seen were many rows of tables, carved ofform, hands folded, head pillowed upon stone But one table near at hand stood broad and bare Upon it at a sign from Denethor they laid Faramir and his father side by side, and covered the, and stood then with bowed heads as mourners beside a bed of death Then Denethor spoke in a low voice

‘Here ait,’ he said ‘But send not for the e us wood quick to burn, and lay it all about us, and beneath; and pour oil upon it And when I bid you thrust in a torch Do this and speak no more to me Farewell!’

‘By your leave, lord!’ said Pippin and turned and fled in terror froht ‘I must find Gandalf Poor Faramir! Quite likely he needs medicine more than tears Oh, where can I find Gandalf? In the thick of things, I suppose; and he will have no ti men or madmen’

At the door he turned to one of the servants who had reuard there ‘Yourno fire to this place while Fara until Gandalf comes!’

‘Who is the master of Minas Tirith?’ the man answered ‘The Lord Denethor or the Grey Wanderer?’

‘The Grey Wanderer or no one, it would see way as swiftly as his feet would carry hih the door, and on, till he caate of the Citadel The sentinel hailed hiond

‘Whither do you run, Master Peregrin?’ he cried