And his pale wife like a statue, mute with fright, stood at his side.
’Twas but a single moment, yet it seemed like an age to wait
Ere Mag and Kate with their husbands filed out[91] through the open gate;
Dark[92] was the night as a dungeon, for the moon had sunk away[93],
And the far-off cries of a panther[94] filled each breast with dread dismay.
On[95] through the gloomy forest like a band of ghosts they sped,
Silently, save when the mother sobbed, or a twig snapped ’neath their tread;
“Hark[96]!” whispered tall, gaunt Harry, and they stood with heads[97] bent low,
While faint on the air of midnight came shrieks[98] of pain and woe.
“Hello! hello[99]!” cried Harry; but they heard no voice reply—