r forgive you that, my master.
And as for me, I'll soon be in a good place, God grant, and out of
bow-shoot--ay, and cannon-shoot--of all their malices. I am an old man,
and draw fast to homeward, where the bed is ready. But for you, Bennet,
y' are to remain behind here at your own peril, and if ye come to my
years unhanged, the old true-blue English spirit will be dead."

"Y' are the shrewishest old dolt in Tunstall Forest," returned Hatch,
visibly ruffled by these threats. "Get ye to your arms before Sir Oliver
come, and leave prating for one good while. An ye had talked so much
with Harry the Fift, his ears would ha' been richer than his pocket."

An arrow sang in the air, like a huge hornet; it struck old Appleyard
between the shoulder-blades, and pierced him clean through, and he fell
forward on his face among the cabbages. Hatch, with a broken cry, leapt
into the air; then, stooping double, he ran for the cover of the house.
And in the meanwhile Dick Shelton had dropped behind a lilac, and had his
crossbow bent and shouldered, covering the point of the forest.

Not a leaf stirred. The sheep were patiently browsing; the birds had
settled. But there lay the old man, with a cloth-yard arrow standing in
his back; and there were Hatch holding to the gable, and Dick crouching
and ready behind the lilac bush.

"D'ye see aught?" cried Hatch.

"Not a twig stirs," said Dick.

"I think shame to leave him lying," said Bennet, coming forward once more
with hesitating steps and a very pale countenance. "Keep a good eye on
the wood, Master Shelton--keep a clear eye on the wood. The saints
assoil us! here was a good shoot!"

Bennet raised the old archer on his knee. He was not yet dead; his face
worked, and his eyes shut and opened like machinery, and he had a most
horrible, ugly look of one in pain.

"Can ye hear, old Nick?" asked Hatch. "Have ye a last wish before ye
wend, old brother?"

"Pluck out the shaft, and let me pass, a' Mary's name!" gasped Appleyard.
"I be done with Old England. Pluck it out!"

"Master Dick," said Bennet, "come hither, and pull me a good pull upon
the arrow. He would fain pass, the poor sinner."

Dick laid down his cross-bow, and pulling hard upon the arrow, drew it
forth. A gush of blood followed; the old archer scrambled half upon his
feet, called once upon the name of God, and then fell dead. Hatch, upon
his knees among the cabbages, prayed fervently for the welfare of th