es of the bowman.

"I say yes, dog! By the three kings! I have seen a man gasp out his last
breath for less. Had you gone through the pain and unease that I have
done to earn these things you would be at more care. I swear by my ten
finger-bones that there is not one of them that hath not cost its weight
in French blood! Four--an incense-boat, a ewer of silver, a gold buckle
and a cope worked in pearls. I found them, camarades, at the Church of
St. Denis in the harrying of Narbonne, and I took them away with me lest
they fall into the hands of the wicked. Five--a cloak of fur turned
up with minever, a gold goblet with stand and cover, and a box of
rose-colored sugar. See that you lay them together. Six--a box of
monies, three pounds of Limousine gold-work, a pair of boots, silver
tagged, and, lastly, a store of naping linen. So, the tally is complete!
Here is a groat apiece, and you may go."

"Go whither, worthy sir?" asked one of the carriers.

"Whither? To the devil if ye will. What is it to me? Now, ma belle, to
supper. A pair of cold capons, a mortress of brawn, or what you will,
with a flask or two of the right Gascony. I have crowns in my pouch,
my sweet, and I mean to spend them. Bring in wine while the food is
dressing. Buvons my brave lads; you shall each empty a stoup with me."

Here was an offer which the company in an English inn at that or any
other date are slow to refuse. The flagons were re-gathered and came
back with the white foam dripping over their edges. Two of the woodmen
and three of the laborers drank their portions off hurriedly and trooped
off together, for their homes were distant and the hour late. The
others, however, drew closer, leaving the place of honor to the right
of the gleeman to the free-handed new-comer. He had thrown off his steel
cap and his brigandine, and had placed them with his sword, his quiver
and his painted long-bow, on the top of his varied heap of plunder in
the corner. Now, with his thick and somewhat bowed legs stretched in
front of the blaze, his green jerkin thrown open, and a great quart
pot held in his corded fist, he looked the picture of comfort and of
good-fellowship. His hard-set face had softened, and the thick crop of
crisp brown curls which had been hidden by his helmet grew low upon his
massive neck. He might have been forty years of age, though hard toil
and harder pleasure had left their grim marks upon his features. Alleyne
had ceased painting his pi