Lo! it was over.

They were speeding down the hill, and alongside of the grey horse Flame raced the black horse Smoke.

Wulf on its back, with eyes that seemed to be starting from his head, was shouting, "A D'Arcy! A D'Arcy!" and behind him, turban gone, and white burnous floating like a pennon on the air, the grim-visaged Arab, who also shouted.
Swifter and yet swifter.

Did ever horses gallop so fast?
Swifter and yet swifter, till the air sang past them and the ground seemed to fly away beneath.

The slope was done.