startled glance. He had some cause for thought; for this Sir Harry

Shelton was his own natural father. But he said never a word, and kept

his countenance unmoved.

Hatch and Sir Oliver discussed together for a while their altered

situation; ten men, it was decided between them, should be reserved, not

only to garrison the Moat House, but to escort the priest across the

wood. In the meantime, as Bennet was to remain behind, the command of

the reinforcement was given to Master Shelton. Indeed, there was no

choice; the men were loutish fellows, dull and unskilled in war, while

Dick was not only popular, but resolute and grave beyond his age.

Although his youth had been spent in these rough, country places, the lad

had been well taught in letters by Sir Oliver, and Hatch himself had

shown him the management of arms and the first principles of command.

Bennet had always been kind and helpful; he was one of those who are

cruel as the grave to those they call their enemies, but ruggedly

faithful and well willing to their friends; and now, while Sir Oliver

entered the next house to write, in his swift, exquisite penmanship, a

memorandum of the last occurrences to his master, Sir Daniel Brackley,

Bennet came up to his pupil to wish him God-speed upon his enterprise.

"Ye must go the long way about, Master Shelton," he said; "round by the

bridge, for your life! Keep a sure man fifty paces afore you, to draw

shots; and go softly till y' are past the wood. If the rogues fall upon

you, ride for 't; ye will do naught by standing. And keep ever forward,

Master Shelton; turn me not back again, an ye love your life; there is no

help in Tunstall, mind ye that. And now, since ye go to the great wars

The Black Arrow