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362 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 years pass.'

'Come then, are you not ready?' said the Brabanter, who had watched with ill-concealed impatience the slow and methodic movements of his antagonist.

'I will venture a rover with you, or try long-butts or hoyles,' said old Johnston. 'To my mind the long-bow is a better weapon than the arbalest, but it may be ill for me to prove it.'

'So I think,' quoth the other with a sneer. He drew his moulinet from his girdle, and, fixing it to the windlass, he drew back the powerful double cord until it had clicked into the catch. Then from his quiver he drew a short thick quarrel, which he placed with the utmost care upon the groove. Word had spread of what was going forward, and the rivals were already surrounded, not only by the English archers of the Company, but by hundreds of arbalestiers and men-at-arms from the bands of Ortingo and La Nuit, to the latter of which the Brabanter belonged.

'There is a mark yonder on the hill,' said he; 'mayhap you can discern it.'