Another bed was set beside him for his servant.
Sam hesitated for a moment, then bowing very low:
‘Good night, Captain, my lord,’ he said. ‘You took the chance, sir.’
‘Did I so?’ said Faramir.
‘Yes sir, and showed your quality: the very hightest.’
Faramir smiled. ‘A pert servant, Master Samwise.
But nay: the praise of the praiseworthy is above all rewards.
Yet there was naught in this to praise.
I had no lure or desire to do other than I have done.’
‘Ah well, sir,’ said Sam, ‘you said my master had an elvish air; and that was good and true.
But I can say this: you have an air too, sir, that reminds me of, of – well, Gandalf, of wizards.’
‘Maybe,’ said Faramir. ‘Maybe you discern from far away the air of Númenor. Good night!’

Book IV, Ch. V