And scattered, as a single man walked out Toward the engine-house, a letter in his hand. Lee watched him musingly. A good man, Stuart. Now he was by the door and calling out. The door opened a crack. Brown’s eyes were there Over the cold muzzle of a cocked carbine. The parleying began, went on and on, While the crowd shivered and Lee watched it all With the strict commonsense of a Greek sword And with the same sure readiness. Unperceived, The dawn ran down the valleys of the wind, Coral-footed dove, tracking the sky with coral⁠ ⁠… Then, sudden as powder flashing in a pan, The parleying was done. The door slammed shut. The little figure of Stuart jumped aside Waving its cap. And the marines came on.