"Now, Richard," said the King, "three of the best archers that we have about us have been chosen to shoot against you and each other by their fellows. Say, will you draw first or last?"
"Last, Sire," he answered, "that I may know their mettle."
Then a man stepped forward, a strong and gallant looking fellow, and loosed his three arrows. The first missed the clout, the second pierced the white wood, and the third hit the red eye.
The clout having been changed, and the old one brought to the King with the arrows in it, the second man took his turn. This time all three of the arrows hit the mark, one of them being in the red. Again it was changed, and forth came the great archer of the guard, a tall and clear-eyed man named Jack Green, and whom, it was said, none had ever beaten. He drew, and the arrow went home in the red on its left edge. He drew again, and the arrow went home in the red on its right edge. He drew a third time, and the arrow went home straight in the very centre of the red, where was a little black spot.
Now a great laugh went up, since clearly the Suffolk man was beaten ere ever he began.
"Your **** may do as well; he can do no better," said the King, when the target was brought to him.
Grey **** looked at it.
"A boon, your Grace," said ****. "Grant that this clout may be set up again with the arrows fast. Any may know them from mine since they are grey, whereas those I make are black, for I am a fletcher in my spare hours, and love my own handiwork."
"So be it," said the King, wondering; and the clout was replaced upon its stand.
Now Grey **** stretched himself, looked at the clout, looked at his bow, and set a black-winged arrow on the string. Then he drew, it seemed but lightly and carelessly, as though he thought the distance small. Away flew the shaft, and sank into the red a good inch within the leftmost arrow of Jack Green.
"Ah," said the onlookers, "a lucky shot indeed!"
Again he drew, and again the arrow sank into the red, a good inch within the rightmost shot of Jack Green.
"Oh!" said the onlookers, "this man is an archer; but Jack's last he cannot best, let the devil help him how he will."
"In the devil's name, then, be silent!" wheezed Grey ****, with a flash of his half-opened eye.
"Ay, be silent--be silent!" said the King. "We do not see such shooting every day."
Now **** set his foot apart and, arrow on string, thrice he lifted his bow and thrice let it sink again, perhaps because he felt some breath of wind stir the still air. A fourth time he lifted, and drew, not as he had before, but straight to the ear, then loosed at once.
Away rushed the yard-long shaft, and folk noted that it scarcely seemed to rise as arrows do, or at least not half so high. It rushed, it smote, and there was silence, for none could see exactly what had happened. Then he who stood near the target to mark ran forward, and screamed out:
"By God's name, he has shattered Jack Green's centre arrow, and shot /clean through the clout!/"
Then from all sides rose the old archer cry, "/He, He! He, He!/" while the young Prince threw his cap on high, and the King said:
"Would that there were more such men as this in England! Jack Green, it seems that you are beaten."
"Nay," said Grey ****, seating himself again upon the grass, "there is naught to choose between us in this round. What next, your Grace?"
Only Hugh, who watched him, saw the big veins swell beneath the pale skin of his forehead, as they ever did when he was moved.
"The war game," said the King; "that is, if you will, for here rough knocks may be going. Set it out, one of you."
Then a captain of the archers explained this sport. In short it was that man should stand against man clad in leather jerkins, and wearing a vizor to protect the face, and shoot at each other with blunt arrows rubbed with chalk, he who first took what would have been a mortal wound to be held worsted.
"I like not blunted arrows," said Grey ****; "or, for the matter of that, any other arrows save my own. Against how many must I play? The three?"
The captain nodded.
"Then, by your leave, I will take them all at once."
Now some said that this was not fair, but in the end **** won his point, and those archers whom he had beaten, among them Jack Green, were placed against him, standing five yards apart, and blunted arrows served out to all. **** set one of them on the string, and laid the two others in front of them. Then a knight rode to halfway between them, but a little to one side, and shouted: "Loose!"
As the word struck his ear **** shot with wonderful swiftness, and almost as the arrow left the bow flung himself down, grasping another as he fell. Next instant, three shafts whistled over where he had stood. But his found its mark on the body of him at whom he had aimed, causing the man to stagger backward and throw down his bow, as he was bound to do, if hit.
Next instant **** was up again and his second arrow flew, striking full and fair before ever he at whom it was aimed had drawn.
Now there remained Jack Green alone, and, as **** set the third arrow, but before he could draw, Jack Green shot.
"Beat!" said ****, and stood quite still.
At him rushed the swift shaft, and passed over his shoulder within a hairbreadth of his ear. Then came ****'s turn. On Jack Green's cap was an archer's plume.
"Mark the plume, lords," he said, and lo! the feather leapt from that cap.
Now there was silence. No one spoke, but **** drew out three more arrows.
"Tell me, captain," he said, "is your ground marked out in scores; and what is the farthest that any one of you has sent a flighting shot?"
"Ay," answered the officer, "and twenty score and one yard is the farthest, nor has that been done for many a day."
**** steadied himself, and seemed to fill his lungs with air. Then, stretching his long arms to the full, he drew the great bow till the horns looked as though they came quite close together, and loosed.
High and far flew that shaft; men's eyes could scarcely follow it, and all must wait long before a man came running to say where it had fallen.
"Twenty score and two yards!" he cried.
