What choice for one whom panic swept away
From moorings in the sanity of will?
Jules came and summed the vision of the hill
In one hoarse cry that left no word to say:
“Rees! Saddle up! We’ve got to get away!”
Small wit had Jamie left to ferret guile,
But fumblingly obeyed Le Bon; the while
Jules knelt beside the man who could not flee:
For big hearts lack not time for charity
However thick the blows of fate may fall.