Turning to gasps of mockery. Insolence?—no,—
Sheer weakness, full retreat!
The Bishop raised
His eye-brows, looked at the dense disflattered crowds,
And had no further fear. The battle was won.
Victory, of the only kind he knew,
Was in his hands. Retreat must now be turned
Into full rout. He glanced at Owen,—met
His little sardonic smile with a wise nod,
As if to say, “Ah, just as we foresaw.”