In spite of the cries and blowing of horns.
Lines of flames trailed all the scarlet
Streaming, the dogs half a mile before,
Whoop! with a cry all after Sir Walter,
Driving wildly along the shore.
Over the timber flew old Sir Walter,
Light as a swallow, sure and swift,
For his sturdy arm and his "pull and hustle"
Could help a nag at the deadest lift.
Off went his gold-laced hat and bugle,