and Dick crouching and ready behind the lilac bush.

"D'ye see aught?" cried Hatch.

"Not a twig stirs," said Dick.

"I think shame to leave him lying," said Bennet, coming forward

once more with hesitating steps and a very pale countenance. "Keep

a good eye on the wood, Master Shelton--keep a clear eye on the

wood. The saints assoil us! here was a good shoot!"

Bennet raised the old archer on his knee. He was not yet dead; his

face worked, and his eyes shut and opened like machinery, and he

had a most horrible, ugly look of one in pain.

"Can ye hear, old Nick?" asked Hatch. "Have ye a last wish before

ye wend, old brother?"

"Pluck out the shaft, and let me pass, a' Mary's name!" gasped

Appleyard. "I be done with Old England. Pluck it out!"

"Master Dick," said Bennet, "come hither, and pull me a good pull

upon the arrow. He would fain pass, the poor sinner."

Dick laid down his cross-bow, and pulling hard upon the arrow, drew

it forth. A gush of blood followed; the old archer scrambled half

upon his feet, called once upon the name of God, and then fell

dead. Hatch, upon his knees among the cabbages, prayed fervently

for the welfare of the passing spirit. But even as he prayed, it

was plain that his mind was still divided, and he kept ever an eye

upon the corner of the wood from which the shot had come. When he

had done, he got to his feet again, 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

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