Xxiii

We rode in silence. And at evening came Unto the Moated Manse.--Great clouds had grown Up in the west, on which the sunset's flame Lay like the hand of slaughter.--Very lone Its rooms and halls: a splintered door that, lame, Swung on one hinge; a cabinet o'erthrown; Or arras torn; or blood-stain turning wan, Showed us the way the battle once had gone.