for a man of naught. Nance," he added, to one of the women, "is

old Appleyard up town?"

"I'll warrant you," replied the woman. "In his field, for sure."

So the group dispersed, and while Clipsby walked leisurely over the

bridge, Bennet and young Shelton rode up the road together, through

the village and past the church.

"Ye will see the old shrew," said Bennet. "He will waste more time

grumbling and prating of Harry the Fift than would serve a man to

shoe a horse. And all because he has been to the French wars!"

The house to which they were bound was the last in the village,

standing alone among lilacs; and beyond it, on three sides, there

was open meadow rising towards the borders of the wood.

Hatch dismounted, threw his rein over the fence, and walked down

the field, Dick keeping close at his elbow, to where the old

soldier was digging, knee-deep in his cabbages, and now and again,

in a cracked voice, singing a snatch of song. He was all dressed

in leather, only his hood and tippet were of black frieze, and tied

with scarlet; his face was like a walnut-shell, both for colour and

wrinkles; but his old grey eye was still clear enough, and his

sight unabated. Perhaps he was deaf; perhaps he thought it

unworthy of an old archer of Agincourt to pay any heed to such

disturbances; but neither the surly notes of the alarm bell, nor

the near approach of Bennet and the lad, appeared at all to move

him; and he continued obstinately digging, and piped up, very thin

and shaky:

"Now, dear lady, if thy will be,

I pray you that you will rue on me."

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