I sought the village. Here I heard her name
And shame's made one. How Rupert passed one dawn;
How she among his troopers rode—astride
Like any man—pale-faced and feverish-eyed.
XII
Which way these took they pointed, and I went
Like fire after. Oh, the thought was good
That they were on before! And much it meant
To know she lived still; she, whose image stood
Like flame before me, making turbulent