drew off one of his mailed gauntlets, and wiped his pale face, which was

all wet with terror.

"Ay," he said, "it'll be my turn next."

"Who hath done this, Bennet?" Richard asked, still holding the arrow in

his hand.

"Nay, the saints know," said Hatch. "Here are a good two score Christian

souls that we have hunted out of house and holding, he and I. He has

paid his shot, poor shrew, nor will it be long, mayhap, ere I pay mine.

Sir Daniel driveth over-hard."

This is a strange shaft," said the lad, looking at the arrow in his

hand.

"Ay, by my faith!" cried Bennet. "Black, and black-feathered. Here is

an ill-favoured shaft, by my sooth! for black, they say, bodes burial.

And here be words written. Wipe the blood away. What read ye?"

"'Appulyaird fro Jon Amend-All,'" read Shelton. "What should this

betoken?"

"Nay, I like it not," returned the retainer, shaking his head. "John

Amend-All! Here is a rogue's name for those that be up in the world!

But why stand we here to make a mark? Take him by the knees, good

Master

The Black Arrow