ngely-mingled feelings, as he went,
swiftly and warily, and ever and again turning a wicked eye upon the lad
who had spared him, and whom he still suspected.

There was upon one side of where he went a thicket, strongly matted with
green ivy, and, even in its winter state, impervious to the eye. Herein,
all of a sudden, a bow sounded like a note of music. An arrow flew, and
with a great, choked cry of agony and anger, the Knight of Tunstall threw
up his hands and fell forward in the snow.

Dick bounded to his side and raised him. His face desperately worked;
his whole body was shaken by contorting spasms.

"Is the arrow black?" he gasped.

"It is black," replied Dick, gravely.

And then, before he could add one word, a desperate seizure of pain shook
the wounded man from head to foot, so that his body leaped in Dick's
supporting arms, and with the extremity of that pang his spirit fled in
silence.

The young man laid him back gently on the snow and prayed for that
unprepared and guilty spirit, and as he prayed the sun came up at a
bound, and the robins began chirping in the ivy.

When he rose to his feet, he found another man upon his knees but a few
steps behind him, and, still with uncovered head, he waited until that
prayer also should be over. It took long; the man, with his head bowed
and his face covered with his hands, prayed like one in a great disorder
or distress of mind; and by the bow that lay beside him, Dick judged that
he was no other than the archer who had laid Sir Daniel low.

At length he, also, rose, and showed the countenance of Ellis Duckworth.

"Richard," he said, very gravely, "I heard you. Ye took the better part
and pardoned; I took the worse, and there lies the clay of mine enemy.
Pray for me."

And he wrung him by the hand.

"Sir," said Richard, "I will pray for you, indeed; though how I may
prevail I wot not. But if ye have so long pursued revenge, and find it
now of such a sorry flavour, bethink ye, were it not well to pardon
others? Hatch--he is dead, poor shrew! I would have spared a better;
and for Sir Daniel, here lies his body. But for the priest, if I might
anywise prevail, I would have you let him go."

A flash came into the eyes of Ellis Duckworth.

"Nay," he said, "the devil is still strong within me. But be at rest;
the Black Arrow flieth nevermore--the fellowship is broken. They that
still live shall come to their quiet and ripe end, in Heaven's good tim