as a man."

"I know not about that," answered the Brabanter, "but this I know,
that though I have served for fourteen years, I have never yet seen an
Englishman do aught with the long-bow which I could not do better with
my arbalest. By the three kings! I would even go further, and say that I
have done things with my arbalest which no Englishman could do with his
long-bow."

"Well said, mon gar.," cried Aylward. "A good cock has ever a brave
call. Now, I have shot little of late, but there is Johnston here who
will try a round with you for the honor of the Company."

"And I will lay a gallon of Jurancon wine upon the long-bow," said Black
Simon, "though I had rather, for my own drinking, that it were a quart
of Twynham ale."

"I take both your challenge and your wager," said the man of Brabant,
throwing off his jacket and glancing keenly about him with his black,
twinkling eyes. "I cannot see any fitting mark, for I care not to waste
a bolt upon these shields, which a drunken boor could not miss at a
village kermesse."

"This is a perilous man," whispered an English man-at-arms, plucking at
Aylward's sleeve. "He is the best marksman of all the crossbow companies
and it was he who brought down the Constable de Bourbon at Brignais, I
fear that your man will come by little honor with him."

"Yet I have seen Johnston shoot these twenty years, and I will not
flinch from it. How say you, old war-hound, will you not have a flight
shot or two with this springald?"

"Tut, tut, Aylward," said the old bowman. "My day is past, and it is
for the younger ones to hold what we have gained. I take it unkindly of
thee, Samkin, that thou shouldst call all eyes thus upon a broken bowman
who could once shoot a fair shaft. Let me feel that bow, Wilkins! It is
a Scotch bow, I see, for the upper nock is without and the lower within.
By the black rood! it is a good piece of yew, well nocked, well strung,
well waxed, and very joyful to the feel. I think even now that I might
hit any large and goodly mark with a bow like this. Turn thy quiver to
me, Aylward. I love an ash arrow pierced with cornel-wood for a roving
shaft."

"By my hilt! and so do I," cried Aylward. "These three gander-winged
shafts are such."

"So I see, comrade. It has been my wont to choose a saddle-backed
feather for a dead shaft, and a swine-backed for a smooth flier. I will
take the two of them. Ah! Samkin, lad, the eye grows dim and the hand
less firm as the ye