he must have been the last survivor of a considerable company of men.

Hatch himself showed, under his sun-brown, the pallour of anxiety; and

when he had taken Dick aside and learned the fate of Selden, he fell on a

stone bench and fairly wept. The others, from where they sat on stools

or doorsteps in the sunny angle of the court, looked at him with wonder

and alarm, but none ventured to inquire the cause of his emotion.

"Nay, Master Shelton," said Hatch, at last--"nay, but what said I? We

shall all go. Selden was a man of his hands; he was like a brother to

me. Well, he has gone second; well, we shall all follow! For what said

their knave rhyme?--'A black arrow in each black heart.' Was it not so

it went? Appleyard, Selden, Smith, old Humphrey gone; and there lieth

poor John Carter, crying, poor sinner, for the priest."

Dick gave ear. Out of a low window, hard by where they were talking,

groans and murmurs came to his ear.

"Lieth he there?" he asked.

"Ay, in the second porter's chamber," answered Hatch. "We could not bear

him further, soul and body were so bitterly at odds. At every step we

lifted him, he thought to wend. But now, methinks, it is the soul that

suffereth. Ever for the priest he crieth, and Sir Oliver, I wot not why,

still cometh not. 'Twill be a long shrift; but poor Appleyard and poor

Selden, they had none."

The Black Arrow