Chapter 3 No.3

A distant trampling sound he hears;

He looks abroad, and soon appears

O'er Horncliff Hill a plump of spears,

Beneath a pennon gay;

A horseman, darting from the crowd,

Like lightning from a summer cloud,

Spurs on his mettled courser proud,

Before the dark array.

Beneath the sable palisade

That closed the castle barricade,

His bugle-horn he blew;

The warder hasted from the wall,

And warned the captain in the hall,

For well the blast he knew;

And joyfully that knight did call,

To sewer, squire, and seneschal.