Till both rider and steed sink away in the night.
But they go not unheard, and they speed not unseen;
Dark eyes furtively watch, flashing fiercely and keen
From dim ambush around; then like spectres arise
White-robed figures that follow; the rider descries
Them on slope and in hollow, and knows they pursue.
But he fears not their craft or the deeds they may do,
For his brave steed is eager and strong, and the pace
Growing faster and faster each stride of the chase.
Now the slopes right and left seem alive with the foe