ght more weighty than a psalm-verse. you have clean overshot

the butts this time, mon camarade. give it to the little one. i

will wager my feather-bed that he makes more sense of it."

"why, it is written in the french tongue," said alleyne, "and in

a right clerkly hand. this is how it runs: 'a le moult puissant

et moult honorable chevalier, sir nigel loring de christchurch,

de son tres fidele amis sir claude latour, capitaine de la

compagnie blanche, chatelain de biscar, grand seigneur de

montchateau, vavaseurde le renomme gaston, comte de foix, tenant

les droits de la haute justice, de la milieu, et de la basse.'

which signifies in our speech: 'to the very powerful and very

honorable knight, sir nigel loring of christchurch, from his very

faithful friend sir claude latour, captain of the white company,

chatelain of biscar, grand lord of montchateau and vassal to the

renowed gaston, count of foix, who holds the rights of the high

justice, the middle and the low.' "

"look at that now!" cried the bowman in triumph. "that is just

what he would have said."

"i can see now that it is even so," said john, examining the

parchment again. "though i scarce understand this high, middle

and low."

"by my hilt! you would understand it if you were jacques

bonhomme. the low justice means that you may fleece him, and the

middle that you may torture him, and the high that you may slay

him. that is about the truth of it. but this is the letter

which i am to take; and since the platter is clean it is time

that we trussed up and were afoot. you come with me, mon gros

jean; and as to you, little one, where did you say that you

journeyed?"

"to minstead."

"ah, yes. i know this forest country well, though i was born

myself in the hundred of easebourne, in the rape of chichester,

hard by the village of midhurst. yet i have not a word to say

against the hampton men, for there are no better comrades or

truer archers in the whole company than some who learned to loose

the string in these very parts. we shall travel round with you

to minstead lad, seeing that it is little out of our way."

"i am ready," said alleyne, right pleased at the thought of such

company upon the road.

"so am not i. i must store my plunder at this inn, since the

hostess is an honest woman. hola! ma cherie, i wish to leave

with you my gold-work, my velvet, my silk, my feather bed, my

incense-boat, my ewer, my naping linen, and all the rest of it.

i take only the money in a linen bag, and the box of rose colored

sugar which is a gift from my captain to the lady loring. wilt

guard my treasure for me?"

"it shall be put in the safest loft, good archer. come when you

may, you shall find it ready for you."

"now, there is a true friend!" cried the bowman, taking her hand.

"there is a bonne amie! english land and english women, say i,

and french wine and french plunder. i shall be back anon, mon

ange. i am a lonely man, my sweeting, and i must settle some day

when the wars are over and done. mayhap you and i----ah,

mechante, mechante! there is la petite peeping from behind the

door. now, john, the sun is over the trees; you must be brisker

than this when the bugleman blows 'bows and bills.' "

"i have been waiting this time back," said hordle john gruffly.

"then we must be off. adieu, ma vie! the two livres shall

settle the score and buy some ribbons against the next kermesse.

do not forget sam aylward, for his heart shall ever be thine

alone--and thine, ma petite! so, marchons, and may st. julian

grant us as good quarters elsewhere!"

the sun had risen over ashurst and denny woods, and was shining

brightly, though the eastern wind had a sharp flavor to it, and

the leaves were flickering thickly from the trees. in the high

street of lyndhurst the wayfarers had to pick their way, for the

little town was crowded with the guardsmen, grooms, and yeomen

prickers who were attached to the king's hunt. the king himself

was staying at castle malwood, but several of his suite had been

compelled to seek such quarters as they might find in the wooden

or wattle-and-daub cottages of the village. here and there a

small escutcheon, peeping from a glassless window, marked the

night's lodging of knight or baron. these coats-of-arms could be

read, where a scroll would be meaningless, and the bowman, like

most men of his age, was well versed in the common symbols of

heraldry.

"there is the saracen's head of sir bernard brocas," quoth he.

"i saw him last at the ruffle at poictiers some ten years back,

when he bore himself like a man. he is the master of the king's

horse, and can sing a right jovial stave, though in that he

cannot come nigh to sir john chandos, who is first at the board

or in the saddle. three martlets on a field azure, that must be

one of the l