There it seemed—what odd illusion!—that her footsteps on the sand
Broke into a double rhythm, sharply echoing o’er the strand,
And she felt a shadowy presence in the moonlight, gaunt and dread,[977]
Moving stealthily behind her,[978] and she dared not turn her head.
Swiftly, wildly, on[979] she hurried, while cloud, and moon, and star,
With a dumb, phantasmal ardor, sped along[980] th’ horizon’s bar;
Till exhausted, panting, sobbing, and bewildered with alarm,
Scarce she fell[981] ere she was lifted lightly on her lover’s arm.[982]
“Thora,” said he, stooping o’er her, “pardon if I caused thee fright;
But my heart[983] was full to bursting. Speak I must, and speak to-night.