WHILST the council was sitting in Pampeluna the White Company,having encamped in a neighboring valley, close to the companiesof La Nuit and of Black Ortingo, were amusing themselves withsword-play, wrestling, and shooting at the shields, which theyhad placed upon the hillside to serve them as butts. The youngerarchers, with their coats of mail thrown aside, their brown orflaxen hair tossing in the wind, and their jerkins turned back togive free play to their brawny chests and arms, stood in lines,each loosing his shaft in turn, while Johnston, Aylward, BlackSimon, and half-a-score of the elders lounged up and down withcritical eyes, and a word of rough praise or of curt censure forthe marksmen. Behind stood knots of Gascon and Brabantcrossbowmen from the companies of Ortingo and of La Nuit, leaningupon their unsightly weapons and watching the practice of theEnglishmen.

"A good shot, Hewett, a good shot!" said old Johnston to a youngbowman, who stood with his bow in his left hand, gazing withparted lips after his flying shaft. "You see, she finds thering, as I knew she would from the moment that your stringtwanged."

"Loose it easy, steady, and yet sharp," said Aylward. "By myhilt! mon gar., it is very well when you do but shoot at ashield. but when there is a man behind the shield, and he ridesat you with wave of sword and glint of eyes from behind hisvizor, you may find him a less easy mark."

"It is a mark that I have found before now," answered the youngbowman.

"And shall again, camarade, I doubt not. But hola! Johnston, whois this who holds his bow like a crow-keeper?"

"It is Silas Peterson, of Horsham. Do not wink with one eye andlook with the other, Silas, and do not hop and dance after youshoot, with your tongue out, for that will not speed it upon itsway. Stand straight and firm, as God made you. Move not the bowarm, and steady with the drawing hand!"

"I' faith," said Black Simon, "I am a spearman myself, and ammore fitted for hand-strokes than for such work as this. Yet Ihave spent my days among bowmen, and I have seen many a braveshaft sped. I will not say but that we have some good marksmenhere, and that this Company would be accounted a fine body ofarchers at any time or place. Yet I do not see any men who bendso strong a bow or shoot as true a shaft as those whom I haveknown."

"You say sooth," said Johnston, turning his seamed and grizzledface upon the man-at-arms. "See yonder," he added, pointing to abombard which lay within the camp: "there is what hath done scathto good bowmanship, with its filthy soot and foolish roaringmouth. I wonder that a true knight, like our prince, shouldcarry such a scurvy thing in his train. Robin, thou red-headedlurden, how oft must I tell thee not to shoot straight with aquarter-wind blowing across the mark?"

"By these ten finger-bones! there were some fine bowmen at theintaking of Calais," said Aylward. "I well remember that, onoccasion of an outfall, a Genoan raised his arm over his mantlet,and shook it at us, a hundred paces from our line. There weretwenty who loosed shafts at him, and when the man was afterwardsslain it was found that he had taken eighteen through hisforearm."

"And I can call to mind," remarked Johnston, "that when the greatcog 'Christopher,' which the French had taken from us, was mooredtwo hundred paces from the shore, two archers, little RobinWithstaff and Elias Baddlesmere, in four shots each cut everystrand of her hempen anchor-cord, so that she well-nigh came uponthe rocks."

"Good shooting, i' faith rare shooting!" said Black Simon. "But Ihave seen you, Johnston, and you, Samkin Aylwart, and one or twoothers who are still with us, shoot as well as the best. Was itnot you, Johnston, who took the fat ox at Finsbury butts againstthe pick of London town?"

A sunburnt and black-eyed Brabanter had stood near the oldarchers, leaning upon a large crossbow and listening to theirtalk, which had been carried on in that hybrid camp dialect whichboth nations could understand. He was a squat, bull-necked man,clad in the iron helmet, mail tunic, and woollen gambesson of hisclass. A jacket with hanging sleeves, slashed with velvet at theneck and wrists, showed that he was a man of some consideration,an under-officer, or file-leader of his company.

"I cannot think," said he, "why you English should be so fond ofyour six-foot stick. If it amuse you to bend it, well and good;but why should I strain and pull, when my little moulinet will doall for me, and better than I can do it for myself?"

"I have seen good shooting with the prod and with the latch,"said Aylward, "but, by my hilt! camarade, with all respect to youand to your bow, I think that is but a woman's weapon, which awoman can point and loose as easily as a man."

"I know not about that," answered the Brabanter, "but this Iknow, that though I have served for fourteen years, I have neveryet seen an Englishman do aught with the long-bow which I couldnot do better with my arbalest. By the three kings! I wouldeven go further, and say that I have done things with my arbalestwhich no Englishman could do with his long-bow."

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

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

"I take both your challenge and your wager," said the man ofBrabant, throwing off his jacket and glancing keenly about himwith his black, twinkling eyes. "I cannot see any fitting mark,for I care not to waste a bolt upon these shields, which adrunken 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 allthe crossbow companies and it was he who brought down theConstable de Bourbon at Brignais, I fear that your man will comeby little honor with him."

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

"Tut, tut, Aylward," said the old bowman. " My day is past, andit is for the younger ones to hold what we have gained. I takeit unkindly of thee, Samkin, that thou shouldst call all eyesthus upon a broken bowman who could once shoot a fair shaft. Letme feel that bow, Wilkins! It is a Scotch bow, I see, for theupper 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 hitany large and goodly mark with a bow like this. Turn thy quiverto me, Aylward. I love an ash arrow pierced with cornel-wood fora 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 smoothflier. I will take the two of them. Ah! Samkin, lad, the eyegrows dim and the hand less firm as the years pass."

"Come then, are you not ready?" said the Brabanter, who hadwatched with ill-concealed impatience the slow and methodicmovements 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 weaponthan the arbalest, but it may be ill for me to prove it."

"So I think," quoth the other with a sneer. He drew his moulinetfrom his girdle, and fixing it to the windlass, he drew back thepowerful double cord until it had clicked into the catch. Thenfrom his quiver he drew a short, thick quarrel, which he placedwith the utmost care upon the groove. Word had spread of whatwas going forward, and the rivals were already surrounded, notonly by the English archers of the Company, but by hundreds ofarbalestiers and men-at-arms from the bands of Ortingo and LaNuit, to the latter of which the Brabanter belonged.

"There is a mark yonder on the hill," said he; "mayhap you candiscern it."

"I see something," answered Johnston, shading his eyes with hishand; "but it is a very long shoot."

"A fair shoot--a fair shoot! Stand aside, Arnaud, lest you finda bolt through your gizzard. Now, comrade, I take no flightshot, and I give you the vantage of watching my shaft."

As he spoke he raised his arbalest to his shoulder and was aboutto pull the trigger, when a large gray stork flapped heavily intoview skimming over the brow of the hill, and then soaring up intothe air to pass the valley. Its shrill and piercing cries drewall eyes upon it, and, as it came nearer, a dark spot whichcircled above it resolved itself into a peregrine falcon, whichhovered over its head, poising itself from time to time, andwatching its chance of closing with its clumsy quarry. Nearerand nearer came the two birds, all absorbed in their own contest,the stork wheeling upwards, the hawk still fluttering above it,until they were not a hundred paces from the camp. The Brabanterraised his weapon to the sky, and there came the short, deeptwang of his powerful string. His bolt struck the stork justwhere its wing meets the body, and the bird whirled aloft in alast convulsive flutter before falling wounded and flapping tothe earth. A roar of applause burst from the crossbowmen; but atthe instant that the bolt struck its mark old Johnston, who hadstood listlessly with arrow on string, bent his bow and sped ashaft through the body of the falcon. Whipping the other fromhis belt, he sent it skimming some few feet from the earth withso true an aim that it struck and transfixed the stork for thesecond time ere it could reach the ground. A deep-chested shoutof delight burst from the archers at the sight of this doublefeat, and Aylward, dancing with joy, threw his arms round the oldmarksman and embraced him with such vigor that their mail tunicsclanged again.

"Ah! camarade," he cried, "you shall have a stoup with me forthis! What then, old dog, would not the hawk please thee, butthou must have the stork as well. Oh, to my heart again!"

"It is a pretty piece of yew, and well strung," said Johnstonwith a twinkle in his deep-set gray eyes. "Even an old brokenbowman might find the clout with a bow like this."

"You have done very well," remarked the Brabanter in a surlyvoice. "But it seems to me that you have not yet shown yourselfto be a better marksman than I, for I have struck that at which Iaimed, and, by the three kings! no man can do more."

"It would ill beseem me to claim to be a better marksman,"answered Johnston, "for I have heard great things of your skill.I did but wish to show that the long-bow could do that which anarbalest could not do, for you could not with your moulinet haveyour string ready to speed another shaft ere the bird drop to theearth."

"In that you have vantage," said the crossbowman. "By SaintJames! it is now my turn to show you where my weapon has thebetter of you. I pray you to draw a flight shaft with all yourstrength down the valley, that we may see the length of yourshoot."

"That is a very strong prod of yours," said Johnston, shaking hisgrizzled head as he glanced at the thick arch and powerfulstrings of his rival's arbalest. "I have little doubt that youcan overshoot me, and yet I have seen bowmen who could send acloth-yard arrow further than you could speed a quarrel."

"So I have heard," remarked the Brabanter; "and yet it is astrange thing that these wondrous bowmen are never where I chanceto be. Pace out the distances with a wand at every five score,and do you, Arnaud, stand at the fifth wand to carry back mybolts to me."

A line was measured down the valley, and Johnston, drawing anarrow to the very head, sent it whistling over the row of wands.

"Bravely drawn! A rare shoot!" shouted the bystanders.

"It is well up to the fourth mark."

"By my hilt! it is over it," cried Aylward. "I can see wherethey have stooped to gather up the shaft."

"We shall hear anon," said Johnston quietly, and presently ayoung archer came running to say that the arrow had fallen twentypaces beyond the fourth wand.

"Four hundred paces and a score," cried Black Simon. "I' faith,it is a very long flight. Yet wood and steel may do more thanflesh and blood."

The Brabanter stepped forward with a smile of conscious triumph,and loosed the cord of his weapon. A shout burst from hiscomrades as they watched the swift and lofty flight of the heavybolt.

"Over the fourth!" groaned Aylward. "By my hilt! I think that itis well up to the fifth."

"It is over the fifth!" cried a Gascon loudly, and a comrade camerunning with waving arms to say that the bolt had pitched eightpaces beyond the mark of the five hundred.

"Which weapon hath the vantage now?" cried the Brabanter,Strutting proudly about with shouldered arbalest, amid theapplause of his companions.

"You can overshoot me," said Johnston gently.

"Or any other man who ever bent a long-bow," cried his victoriousadversary.

"Nay, not so fast," said a huge archer, whose mighty shouldersand red head towered high above the throng of his comrades. "Imust have a word with you ere you crow so loudly. Where is mylittle popper? By sainted Dick of Hampole! it will be a strangething if I cannot outshoot that thing of thine, which to my eyesis more like a rat-trap than a bow. Will you try another flight,or do you stand by your last?"

"Five hundred and eight paces will serve my turn," answered theBrabanter, looking askance at this new opponent.

"Tut, John," whispered Aylward, "you never were a marksman. Whymust you thrust your spoon into this dish?"

"Easy and slow, Aylward. There are very many things which Icannot do, but there are also one or two which I have the trickof. It is in my mind that I can beat this shoot, if my bow willbut hold together."

"Go on, old babe of the woods!" "Have at it, Hampshire!" criedthe archers laughing.

"By my soul! you may grin," cried John. "But I learned how tomake the long shoot from old Hob Miller of Milford." He took up agreat black bow, as he spoke, and sitting down upon the ground heplaced his two feet on either end of the stave. With an arrowfitted, he then pulled the string towards him with both handsuntil the head of the shaft was level with the wood. The greatbow creaked and groaned and the cord vibrated with the tension.

"Who is this fool's-head who stands in the way of my shoot?" saidhe, craning up his neck from the ground.

"He stands on the further side of my mark," answered theBrabanter, "so he has little to fear from you."

"Well, the saints assoil him!" cried John. "Though I think he isover-near to be scathed." As he spoke he raised his two feet,with the bow-stave upon their soles, and his cord twanged with adeep rich hum which might be heard across the valley. Themeasurer in the distance fell flat upon his face, and thenjumping up again, he began to run in the opposite direction.

"Well shot, old lad! It is indeed over his head," cried thebowmen.

"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed the Brabanter, "who ever saw such a shoot?"

"It is but a trick," quoth John. "Many a time have I won agallon of ale by covering a mile in three flights down WilverleyChase."

"It fell a hundred and thirty paces beyond the fifth mark,"shouted an archer in the distance.

"Six hundred and thirty paces! Mon Dieu! but that is a shoot!And yet it says nothing for your weapon, mon gros camarade, forit was by turning yourself into a crossbow that you did it."

"By my hilt! there is truth in that," cried Aylward. "And now,friend, I will myself show you a vantage of the long-bow. I prayyou to speed a bolt against yonder shield with all your force.It is an inch of elm with bull's hide over it."

"I scarce shot as many shafts at Brignais," growled the man ofBrabant; "though I found a better mark there than a cantle ofbull's hide. But what is this, Englishman? The shield hangs notone hundred paces from me, and a blind man could strike it." Hescrewed up his string to the furthest pitch, and shot his quarrelat the dangling shield. Aylward, who had drawn an arrow from hisquiver, carefully greased the head of it, and sped it at the samemark.

"Run, Wilkins," quoth he, "and fetch me the shield."

Long were the faces of the Englishmen and broad the laugh of thecrossbowmen as the heavy mantlet was carried towards them, forthere in the centre was the thick Brabant bolt driven deeply intothe wood, while there was neither sign nor trace of the cloth-yard shaft.

"By the three kings!" cried the Brabanter, "this time at leastthere is no gainsaying which is the better weapon, or which thetruer hand that held it. You have missed the shield,Englishman."

"Tarry a bit! tarry a bit, mon gar.!" quoth Aylward, and turninground the shield he showed a round clear hole in the wood at theback of it. "My shaft has passed through it, camarade, and Itrow the one which goes through is more to be feared than thatwhich bides on the way,"

The Brabanter stamped his foot with mortification, and was aboutto make some angry reply, when Alleyne Edricson came riding up tothe crowds of archers.

"Sir Nigel will be here anon," said he, "and it is his wish tospeak with the Company."

In an instant order and method took the place of generalconfusion. Bows, steel caps, and jacks were caught up from thegrass. A long cordon cleared the camp of all strangers, whilethe main body fell into four lines with under-officers and file-leaders in front and on either flank. So they stood, silent andmotionless, when their leader came riding towards them, his faceshining and his whole small figure swelling with the news whichhe bore.

"Great honor has been done to us, men," cried he: "for, of allthe army, the prince has chosen us out that we should rideonwards into the lands of Spain to spy upon our enemies. Yet, asthere are many of us, and as the service may not be to the likingof all, I pray that those will step forward from the ranks whohave the will to follow me."

There was a rustle among the bowmen, but when Sir Nigel looked upat them no man stood forward from his fellows, but the four linesof men stretched unbroken as before. Sir Nigel blinked at themin amazement, and a look of the deepest sorrow shadowed his face.

"That I should live to see the day!" he cried, "What! not one----"

"My fair lord," whispered Alleyne, "they have all steppedforward."

"Ah, by Saint Paul! I see how it is with them. I could not thinkthat they would desert me. We start at dawn to-morrow, and yeare to have the horses of Sir Robert Cheney's company. Be ready,I pray ye, at early cock-crow."

A buzz of delight burst from the archers, as they broke theirranks and ran hither and thither, whooping and cheering like boyswho have news of a holiday. Sir Nigel gazed after them with asmiling face, when a heavy hand fell upon his shoulder.

"What ho! my knight-errant of Twynham!" said a voice, "You areoff to Ebro, I hear; and, by the holy fish of Tobias! you musttake me under your banner."

"What! Sir Oliver Buttesthorn!" cried Sir Nigel. "I had heardthat you were come into camp, and had hoped to see you. Glad andproud shall I be to have you with me."

"I have a most particular and weighty reason for wishing to go,"said the sturdy knight.

"I can well believe it," returned Sir Nigel; "I have met no manwho is quicker to follow where honor leads."

"Nay, it is not for honor that I go, Nigel."

"For what then?"

"For pullets."

"Pullets?"

"Yes, for the rascal vanguard have cleared every hen from thecountry-side. It was this very morning that Norbury, my squire,lamed his horse in riding round in quest of one, for we have abag of truffles, and nought to eat with them. Never have I seensuch locusts as this vanguard of ours. Not a pullet shall we seeuntil we are in front of therm; so I shall leave my Winchesterrunagates to the care of the provost-marshal, and I shall hiesouth with you, Nigel, with my truffles at my saddle-bow."

"Oliver, Oliver, I know you over-well," said Sir Nigel, shakinghis head, and the two old soldiers rode off together to theirpavilion.