CHAPTER XXXVII.
‘So soon. But now among all the rest
The champion of a hero-band,
With a gleaming blade and a flashing crest,
And a haughty front and a ready hand.
‘There cometh a crash, and a cry of need,
A puff of smoke—and no more to tell,
But a dangling rein and a plunging steed,
And a rider lying where he fell.