He shall slay with the sword thy daughters in the field_...." "Fine words," I thought; "but Elspeth laid her whip over your shoulders, my man." "...

_With the hoofs of his horses shall he tread down all thy streets.
He shall slay thy people by the sword, and thy strong garrisons shall go down to the ground....

And I will cause the music of thy songs to cease, and the sound of thy harps shall no more be heard."_ I had a vision of Elspeth's birthday party when we sat round the Governor's table, and I had wondered dismally how long it would be before our pleasant songs would be turned to mourning.
The fires died down, the smoke thinned, and the full moon rising over the crest of the hills poured her light on us.

The torches flickered insolently in that calm radiance.

The voice, too, grew lower and the incantation ceased.