Under the volley that thereupon swept the beach, the invaders did indeed waver for a moment—so closely it resembled the real thing. As the smoke lifted, however, by the murky glare of the torches they were seen to be less demoralised than infuriated. And now, upon the volley's echo, a drum banged thrice, and from a boat just beyond the water's edge the Troy bandsmen crashed out with:
"The Rout it is out for the Looes,
For the Looes;
Oh, the Rout it is out for the Looes!"
"The Rout it is out for the Looes,
For the Looes;
Oh, the Rout it is out for the Looes!"
"Forward! Forward, Troy!"
"Steady, the Two Looes! Steady, the Diehards!"
"Form up—form up, there, to the left! Hurray, boys! give 'em the bagginet!"
"Death to Invader! Reload, men! Oh, for your lives, reload! Make ready, all! Prepare! Fire!"
"Mr. Spettigew! Mr. Spettigew!"
"Eh?" Uncle Issy turned as William Oke plucked him by the sleeve. "What's the matter now? Reload, I tell'ee!"
"I—I can't, Mr. Spettigew. I've a-fired off my ramrod!"