“What news?” cried the guard. “And who art thou that ridest so madly, and who is that whose tongue lolls out”—and it actually did—“and who runs by thee like a dog by a chariot?”
“It is the Lord Macumazahn, and with him is his dog, his black dog. Open! open! I bring tidings.”
The great gates ran back on their rollers, and the drawbridge fell with a rattling crash, and we dashed on through the one and over the other.
“What news, my lord, what news?” cried the guard.
“Incubu rolls Sorais back, as the wind a cloud,” I answered, and was gone.
One more effort, gallant horse, and yet more gallant man!
So, fall not now, Daylight, and hold thy life in thee for fifteen short minutes more, old Zulu war-dog, and ye shall both live for ever in the annals of the land.
On, clattering through the sleeping streets. We are passing the Flower Temple now—one mile more, only one little mile—hold on, keep your life in thee, see the houses run past of themselves. Up, good horse, up, there—but fifty yards now. Ah! you see your stables and stagger on gallantly.
“Thank God, the palace at last!” and see, the first arrows of the dawn are striking on the Temple’s golden dome.[[22]] But shall I get in here, or is the deed done and the way barred?
[22] Of course, the roof of the Temple, being so high, caught the light some time before the breaking of the dawn.—A. Q.