 Book V. CHAPTER V. OF THE BLACK ARROW. It was almost certain that Sir Daniel had made for the moat house, but considering the heavy snow, the lateness of the hour, and the necessity under which he would lie of avoiding the few roads and striking across the wood, it was equally certain that he could not hope to reach it ere the morrow. There were two courses open to deck, either to continue to follow in the night's trail, and if he were able to follow upon him that very night in camp, or to strike out a path of his own, and seek to place himself between Sir Daniel and his destination. Their scheme was open to serious objection, and Dick, who feared to expose Joanna to the hazards of a fight, had not yet decided between them when he reached the borders of the wood. At this point Sir Daniel had turned a little to his left, and then plunged straight under a grove of very lofty timber. His party had then formed to a narrower front in order to pass between the trees, and the track was trod proportionately deeper in the snow. The eye followed it under the leafless tracery of the oaks, running direct and narrow. The trees stood over it, with naughty joints, and the great uplifted forest of their boughs. There was no sound, whether of man or beast. Not so much as the stirring of a robin, and over the field of snow, the winter sun lay golden among the netted shadows. How say ye, ask Dick of one of the men, to follow straight on, or strike across for a tundle? Sir Richard replied the men at arms. I would follow the line until they scatter. Ye are doubtless right, return, Dick, but we came right hastily upon the errand, even as the time commanded. Here are no houses, neither for food nor shelter, and by the morals done we shall know both cold fingers and an empty belly. How say ye, lads, will we stand a pinch for expedition's sake, or shall we turn by Hollywood and sup with mother-church? The case being somewhat doubtful, I will drive no man, yet if he would suffer me to lead you, ye would choose the first. The men answered, almost with one voice, that they would follow Sir Richard where he would. And Dick, setting spur to his horse, began once more to go forward. The snow in the trail had been trodden very hard, and the pursuers had thus a great advantage over the pursuit. They pushed on, indeed, at a round trot, two hundred hoofs beating alternately on the dull pavement of the snow, and the jingle of weapons, and the snorting of horses raising a warlike noise along the arches of the silent wood. Presently the wide slot of the pursuit came out upon the high road from Hollywood. It was there for a moment indistinguishable, and where it once more plunged into the unbeaten snow upon the further side, Dick was surprised to see it narrower and lighter trod, plainly profiting by the road so Daniel had begun already to scatter his command. At all hazards, one chance being equal to another, Dick continued to pursue the straight trail, and that, after an hour's riding in which it led, into the very depth of the forest, suddenly split like a bursting shell into two dozen others, leading to every point of the compass. Dick drew bridle in despair. The short winter's day was near an end. The sun, a dull red orange, shorn of rays, swam low among the leafless thickets. The shadows were a mile long upon the snow. The frost bit cruelly at the fingernails, and the breath and steam of the horses, mounted in a cloud. Well, we are outwitted, Dick confessed, strike we for Hollywood after all. It is still nearer us than Tunstall, or should be by the station of the sun. So they wheeled to their left, turning their backs on the red shield of sun, and made a cross-country for the Abbey. But now times were changed with them. They could no longer, spank forth briskly on a path, beaten firm by the passage of their foes, and for a goal to which that path itself conducted them. Now they must plow at a dull pace, through the encumbering snow, continually pausing to decide their course, continually floundering in drifts. The sun soon left them. The glow of the west decayed, and presently they were wandering in a shadow of blackness under frosty stars. Presently indeed the moon would clear the hill-tops, and they might resume their march, but till then every random step might carry them wider of their march. There was nothing for it but to camp and wait. Centuries were posted, a spot of ground was cleared of snow, and after some failures a good fire blazed in the midst. The men at arms sat close about this forest hearth, sharing such provisions as they had, and passing about the flask, and Dick having collected the most delicate of this rough and scanty fare, brought it to Lord Rissingham's niece, where she sat apart from the soldiery against a tree. She sat upon one horse-cloth, wrapped in another, and stared straight before her at the fire-lit scene. At the offer of food she started, like one, wakened from a dream, and then silently refused. Madam, said Dick, let me beseech you, punish me not so cruelly. Herein I have offered you, I know not. I have indeed carried you away, but with a friendly violent. I have indeed exposed you to the inclemancy of night, but the hurry that lies upon me hath for its end the preservation of another, who is less frail, and no less unfriended than yourself. At least, madam, punish not to yourself, and eat, if not for hunger, than for strength. I will eat nothing at the hands that slew my kinsmen. She replied. Dear madam, Dick cried, I swear to you upon the rude, I touched him not. Swear to me that he still lives. She returned. I will not paltre with you, answer, Dick. Pity bids me to wound you, in my heart, I do believe him dead. And he asked me to eat, she cried, I, and they call you sir. Give one your spurs, by my good kinsmen's murder, and had I not been fool and traitor both, and saved you and your enemy's house, ye should have died the death, and he, he that was worth twelve of you were living? I did, but my man's best, even as your kinsmen did upon the other party, answered Dick, were he still living, as I vow to heaven I wish it, he would praise not blame me. Sir Daniel hath told me, she replied, he marked you at the barricade, upon you he saith, their party floundered. It was you that won the battle. Well then it was you that killed my good lord Rizingham, as sure as though ye had strangled him, and ye would have me eat with you, and your hands not washed from killing. But sir Daniel hath sworn your downfall, he it is that will avenge me. The unfortunate Dick was plunged in gloom. Old our blaster returned upon his mind, and he groan'd aloud. Do ye hold me so guilty? He said, you that defended me, you that are Joanne's friend. What made ye in the battle? She retorted, ye are of no party, ye are but a lad, but legs and body, without government of wit or counsel. Wherefore did ye fight? For the love of hurt, party. Nay, cried Dick, I know not. But as the realm of England goes, if that a poor gentleman fight not upon the one side, perforce he must fight upon the other. He may not stand alone, tis not in nature. They that have no judgment should not draw the sword, replied the young lady, ye that fight but for a hazard. What are ye but a butcher? War is but noble, by the cause, and ye have disgraced it. Madam, said the miserable Dick, I do partly see mine error. I have made too much haste. I have been busy before my time. Already I stole a ship, thinking I do swear it, to do well, and thereby brought about the death of many innocent, and the grief and ruin of a poor old man, whose face this very day hath stabbed me like a dagger. And for this morning I did but design to do myself credit, and get feigned to marry with, and behold, I have brought about the death of your dear kinsman, that was good to me, and what besides I know not. For alas, I may have set York upon the throne, and that may be the worse her cause, and may do hurt to England. Oh, madam, I do see my sin. I am unfit for life. I will, for penance sake, and to avoid worse evil, once I have finished this adventure, get me to a cloister. I will force swear Joanna, and the trade of arms. I will be a friar, and pray for your good kinsman spirit all my days. It appeared to Dick, in this extremity of his humiliation and repentance, that the young lady had laughed. Raising his countenance he found her looking down upon him in the fire-light, with a somewhat peculiar, but not unkind expression. Madam, he cried, thinking the laughter, to have been an illusion of his hearing. But still, from her changed looks, hoping to have touched her heart. Madam, will not this, content you? I give up all to undo what I have done amiss. I make heaven certain for Lord Rysingham, and all this upon the very day that I have won my spurs, and thought myself the happiest young gentleman on ground. Oh, boy, she said, good boy! And then, to the extreme surprise of Dick, she first, very tenderly, wiped the tears away from his cheeks, and then, as if yielding to a sudden impulse, threw both her arms about his neck, drew up his face, and kissed him. A pitiful bewilderment came over, simple-minded Dick. But come, she said, with great cheerfulness, you that are a captain ye must eat, why sup ye not? Dear Mr. Rysingham, replied Dick, I did but wait first upon my prisoner. But to say truth, penitence, will no longer suffer me to endure the sight of food. I were better to fast, dear lady, and to pray. Call me, Alisha, she said, are we not old friends? And now come, I will eat with you, bit for bit, and sup for sup. So if ye eat not, neither will I, but if ye eat hearty, I will dine like a plowman. So there and then she fell, too, and Dick, who had an excellent stomach, proceeded to pair her company, at first with great reluctance, but gradually, as he entered into the spirit, with more and more vigor and devotion. Until at last he forgot even to watch his model, and most heartily repaired the expenses of his day of labour and excitement. Lion-driver, she said at length, ye do not admire a maid in a man's jerkin? The moon was now up, and they were only waiting to repose the wearied horses. By the moon's light, the still penitent, but now well fed Richard, beheld her looking, somewhat coquettishly, down upon him. Madam, he stammered, surprised at this new turn in her manners. Nay, she interrupted, it's skills not to deny, Joanna hath told me, but come, Sir Lion-driver, look at me, am I so homely? Come! And she made bright eyes at him. Ye are something smallish indeed, began Dick. And here again she interrupted him, this time with a ringing peel of laughter, that completed his confusion and surprise. Smallish, she cried, Nay, now be honest, as ye are bold. I am adored for a little better, but for all that, come, tell me, for all that, passably fair to look upon, is it not so? Nay, madam, exceedingly fair, said the distressed knight, pitifully trying to seem easy. And a man would be right glad to wed me. She pursued. Oh, madam, right glad, agreed Dick. Call me, Alisha, she said. Alisha, quoth Sir Richard. Well then, Lion-driver, she continued, Sith, that ye slew my kinsmen, and left me without stay, ye owe me, in honour, every reparation, do ye not? I do, madam, said Dick, although upon my heart, I do hold me, but partially guilty of that brave knight's blood. Would you evade me? She cried. Madam, not so. I have told you, at your bidding, I will even turn me a monk, said Richard. Then in honour, ye belong to me, she concluded. In honour, madam, I suppose, began the young man. Go to, she interrupted, ye are too full of catches. In honour, do ye belong to me, till ye have paid the evil? In honour I do, said Dick. Here then, she continued, ye would make but a sad fire me thinks, and since I am to dispose of you at pleasure, I will even take you for my husband, nay, now no words, cried she. They will avail you nothing, for see how just it is, that ye who deprived me of one home should supply me with another. And as for Joanna, she will be the first, believe me, to commend the change. For after all, as we be dear friends, what matters it with which of us ye wed? Not one wit. Madam, said Dick, I will go into a cloister, and ye pleased to bid me, but to wed with any one in this big world, besides Joanna suddenly, is what I will consent to neither for man's force, nor yet for ladies' pleasure. Pardon me if I speak my plain thoughts plainly. But where a maid is bold, a poor man must be even the bolder. Dick, she said, ye sweet boy, ye must come and kiss me for that word. Nay, fear not. For kiss me for Joanna, and when we meet I shall give it back to her, and say I stole it. And as for what ye owe me, why, dear Simpleton, me thinks ye were not alone in that great battle, and even if York be on the throne, it was not you that set him there. But for a good sweet honest heart, Dick, ye are all that, and if I could find it in my soul to envy your Joanna anything I would envy her your love. End of Book 5, Chapter 5 Book 5, Chapter 6 of the Black Arrow The Black Arrow by Robert Louis Stevenson Book 5, Chapter 6, Night in the Woods Concluded Dick and Joan The horses had by this time finished the small store of Provender, and fully breathed from their fatigues. At Dick's command the fire was smothered in snow, and while his men got more wearily to saddle, he himself, remembering, somewhat late, true woodland caution, chose a tall oak, and nimbly clambered to the topmost fork. Hence he could look far abroad in the moonlight, and snow paved forest. On the south-west, dark against the horizon, stood those upland heathy quarters where he and Joanna had met, with the terrifying misadventure of the leper. And there his eye was caught by a spot of ruddy brightness, no bigger than a needle's eye. He blamed himself sharply for his previous neglect, where that, as it appeared to be, the shining of Sir Daniel's campfire he should long ago have seen and marched for it. Above all, he should, for no consideration, have announced his neighborhood by lighting a fire of his own. But now he must no longer squander valuable hours. The direct way to the uplands was about two miles in length, but it crossed by a very deep, precipice-dingle, impassable, two-mounted men, and for the sake of speed it seemed to tick advisable to desert the horses and attempt the adventure on foot. Ten men were left to guard the horses, signals were agreed upon by which they could communicate, in case of need, and ticks at forth at the head of the remainder, Alicia Rizingham walking stoutly by his side. The men had freed themselves of heavy armour and left behind their lances, and they now marched with a good spirit in the frozen snow, and under the exhilarating luster of the moon. The descent into the dingle, where a stream strained sobbing through the snow and ice, was effected with silence and order, and on the further side, being then within a short half-mile of where Dick had seen the glimmer of the fire, the party halted to breathe before the attack. In the vast silence of the wood the lightest sounds were audible from afar, and Alicia, who was keen of hearing, held up her finger warningly and stooped to listen. All followed her example, but besides the groans of the choked brook in the dingle close behind, and the barking of a fox at a distance of many miles among the forest, to Dick's acutest hearing not a breath was audible. But for sure I heard the clash of harness, whispered Alicia. Madam, return, Dick, who was more afraid of that young lady than of ten stout warriors. I would not hint you were mistaken, but it might well have come from either of the camps. It came not this, it came westward, she declared. It may be what it will. Return, Dick, and it must be as heaven please. Like we not a jot, but push on the livelier, and put it to the touch. Up, friends, enough breathed. As they advanced the snow became more and more trampled with hoofmarks, and it was plain that they were drawing near to the encampment of a considerable force of mounted men. Presently they could see the smoke pouring from among the trees, rudderly colored on its lower edge, and scattering bright sparks. And here, pursuant to Dick's orders, his men began to open out, creeping stealthily in the covert, to surround on every side the camp of their opponents. He himself, placing Alicia in the shelter of a bulky oak, stole straight forth in the direction of the fire. At last, through an opening of the wood, his eye embraced the scene of the encampment. The fire had been built upon a heathy hummock of the ground, burned it on three sides by thicket, and it now burned very strong, roaring aloud, and brandishing flames. Around it there sat not quite a dozen people, warmly cloaked. But though the neighbouring snow was trampled down as by a regiment, Dick looked in vain for any horse. He began to have a terrible misgiving, that he was outmaneuvered. At the same time, in a tall man with a steel salad, who was spreading his hands before the blaze, he recognized his old friend, and still, kindly enemy, Bennett Hatch, and in two others, sitting a little back he made out, even in their male disguise, Joanna Sudley, and Sir Daniel's wife. Well, he thought to himself, even if I lose my horses, let me get my Joanna, and why should I complain? And then, from the further side of the encampment, there came a little whistle, announcing that his men had joined, and the investment was complete. Bennett at the sound started to his feet. But ere he had time to spring upon his arms, Dick hailed him. Bennett, he said, Bennett, old friend, yield ye, ye will but spill men's lives in vain if ye resist. Tis, Master Shelton, by St. Barbary. Cried Hatch, yield me, ye ask much, what for is heavy? I tell you, Bennett, ye are both outnumbered and beguirked, said Dick. Caesar and Charlemagne would cry for quarter. I have to score a minute, my whistle, and with one shoot of arrows I could answer for you all. Master Dick, said Bennett, it goes against my heart, but I must do my duty. The Saints help you. And therewith he raised a little tucket to his mouth, and wound a rousing call. Then followed a moment of confusion, for while Dick, fearing for the ladies, still hesitated to give the word to shoot, Hatch's little band sprang to their weapons, and formed back to back, as for a fierce resistance. In the hurry of their change of place, Joanna sprang from her seat, and ran like an arrow to her lover's side. Here Dick, she cried, as she clapped his hand in hers. But Dick still stood irresolute. He was yet young to the more deplorable necessities of war, and the thought of old Lady Brackley checked the command upon his tongue. His own men became restive. Some of them cried on him by name, others of their own account, and to shoot. And at the first discharge poor Bennet bit the dust. Then Dick awoke. On, he cried, shoot boys, and keep to cover, England and York. But just then the dull beat of many horses on the snow suddenly arose in the hollow ear of the night, and with incredible swiftness drew nearer and swelled louder, at the same time answering tuckets, repeated and repeated, hatches call. Rally, rally, cried Dick, rally upon me, rally for your lives. But his men afoot, scattered, taken in the hour when they counted on an easy triumph, began instead to give ground severally, and either stood wavering or dispersed into the thickets. And when the first of the horsemen came charging through the open avenues and fiercely riding their steeds into the underwood, a few stragglers were overthrown or speared among the brush, but the bulk of Dick's command had simply melted at the rumour of their coming. Dick stood for a moment, bitterly recognizing the fruits of his precipitate and unwise valor. Sir Daniel had seen the fire. He had moved out with his main force, whether to attack his pursuers or to take them in the rear if they should venture the assault. Dick's had been throughout the part of a sagacious captain. Dick's the conduct of an eager boy. And here was the young knight, his sweetheart, indeed holding him tightly by the hand, but otherwise alone, his whole command of men and horses dispersed in the night and the wide forest, like a paper of pins in a hay-barn. Thus Saints enlightened me. He thought, it is well I was knighted for this morning's matter, just doth me little honour. And thereupon, still holding Joanna, he began to run. The silence of the night was now shattered by the shouts of the men of Tunstall, as they galloped hither and thither, hunting fugitives, and Dick broke boldly through the underwood and ran straight before him like a deer. The silver clearness of the moon upon the open snow increased, by contrast, the obscurity of the thickets and the extreme dispersion of the vanquished led the pursuers into wildly divergent paths. Hence, in but a little while, Dick and Joanna paused in a close covert, and heard the sounds of the pursuit, scattering abroad, indeed in all directions, but yet fainting already in the distance. And I had but kept a reserve of them together. Dick cried bitterly, I could have turned the tables yet. Well we live and learn, next time it shall go better by the rude. Nay, Dick, said Joanna, what matters it? Here we are, together once again. He looked at her, and there she was, Joan matchum, as of your, in hose and doublet. But now he knew her, now, even in that ungainly dress, she smiled upon him, bright with love, and his heart was transported with joy. Sweetheart, he said, if ye forgive this blunderer, what care I? May we direct for Hollywood? There lieth your good guardian, and my better friend, Lord Foxham. There shall we be wed. And whether poor or wealthy, famous or unknown, what matters it? This day, dear love, I won my spurs. I was commanded by great men for my valor. I thought to myself, the goodliest man of war, in all broad England. Then first I fell out of favour with the great, and now I have been well thrashed, and clean lost my soldiers. There was a downfall for conceit. But dear, I care not, dear, if ye still love me and will wed, I would have my knighthood done away, and mind it not a jot. My Dick, she cried, and did they knight you? Aye, dear, ye are my lady now, he answered fondly, or ye shall, ere noon to-moral, will ye not? That I will, Dick, with a glad heart, she answered. Aye, sir, me thought ye were to be a monk, said a voice in their ears. Alisha! cried Joanna. Even so, replied the young lady, coming forward, Alisha, whom ye left for dead, and whom your lion-driver found, and brought to life again, and by my soothe made love to, if ye want to know. I do not believe it, cried Joanna. Dick! Dick! mimicked Alisha. Dick indeed! Aye, fair sir, and ye desert poor damsels in distress. She continued, turning to the young knight, ye leave them planted behind oaks, but they say true, the age of chivalry is dead. Madam! Dick cried in despair, upon my soul I had forgotten you outright. Madam, ye must try to pardon me. You see, I had new found, Joanna. I did not suppose that ye had done it on purpose, she retorted, but I will be cruelly avenged. I will tell a secret to my Lady Shelton, she that is to be. She added, curt-seeing. Joanna! She continued, I believe upon my soul your sweetheart is a bold fellow in a fight. But he is, let me tell you plainly, the softest hearted simpleton in England. Go to, ye may do your pleasure with him. And now, fool children, first kiss me, either one of you, for luck and kindness, and then kiss each other just one minute by the glass, and not one second longer, and then let us all three set forth for Hollywood as fast as we can stir. For these woods, me thinks, are full of peril and exceeding cold. But did my Dick make love to you? Asked Joanna, clinging to her sweetheart's side. Nay, fool girl! Returned Alisha. It was I made love to him. I offered to marry him indeed. But he bade me. Go marry with my likes. These were his words. Nay, that I will say, he is more plain than pleasant. But now, children, for the sake of sense set forward. Shall we go once more over the dingle, or push straight for Hollywood? Why, said Dick, I would like dearly to get upon a horse. Here I have been sore-mulled and beaten, one way or another these last days, and my poor body is one bruise. But how, think ye, if the men upon the alarm of the fighting had fled away, we should have gone about for nothing. Tis but some three short miles to Hollywood direct. The bell hath not beat nine. The snow is pretty firm to walk upon, the moon-clear, how if we went, even as we are? Made, cried Alisha, but Joanna only pressed upon Dick's arm. Forth then they went, through the open, leafless groves, and down snow-clad alleys under the white face of the winter moon. Dick and Joanna walking hand in hand, and in heaven of pleasure. And their light-minded companion, her own bereavements, heartily forgotten, followed a pace or two behind, now rallying them upon their silence, and now drawing happy pictures of their future and united lives. Still indeed in the distance of the wood the riders of Tunstall might be heard urging their pursuit, and from time to time cries or the clash of steel announced the shock of enemies. But in these young folk bred among the alarms of war and fresh from such a multiplicity of dangers neither fear nor pity could be lightly awakened. Content to find the sounds still drawing further and further away, they gave up their hurt to the enjoyment of the hour, walking already, as Alisha put it, in a wedding procession, and neither the rude solitude of the forest, nor the cold of the freezing night, had any force to shadow or distract their happiness. At length, from a rising hill, they looked below them on the dell of Hollywood. The great windows of the forest abbey, shone with torch and candle, its high pinnacles and spires arose very clear and silent, and the gold rude upon the topmost summit, glittered brightly in the moon. All about it, in the open glade, campfires were burning, and the ground was thick with huts, and across the midst of the picture the frozen river curved. By the mass, said Richard, there are Lord Foxon's fellows still encamped. The messenger hath certainly miscarried, well then so better we have power at hand to face Sir Daniel. But if Lord Foxon's men still lay encamped in the long home at Hollywood it was from a different reason, from the one supposed by Dick. They had marched, indeed, for Shoreby, but ere they were half-way thither, a second messenger met them and bade them return to their morning's camp, to bar the road against lancasterian fugitives, and to be so much nearer to the main army of York. For Richard of Gloucester, having finished the battle, and stamped out his foes in that district, was already on the march to rejoin his brother, and not long after the return of my Lord Foxon's retainers, Crookback himself, drew rain before the abbey door. It was in honour of this august visitor that the window shone with lights, and at the hour of Dick's arrival with his sweetheart and her friend, the whole ducal party was being entertained in the refractory with the splendour of that powerful and luxurious monastery. Dick, not quite with his good will, was brought before them, Gloucester, sick with fatigue, sent leaning upon one hand, his white and terrifying countenance. Lord Foxon, half recovered from his wound, was in a place of honour on his left. How, sir, asked Richard, have ye brought me, Sir Daniel's head? My Lord Duke, replied Dick, stoutly enough, but with a qualm at hurt, I have not even the good fortune to return with my command. I have been, so pleased your grace, well beaten. I gave you fifty lances, sir, he said. My Lord Duke, I had but fifty men at arms, replied the young knight. How is this, asked Gloucester, he did ask me fifty lances. May it please your grace, replied Catsby smoothly, for a pursuit we gave him but the horseman. It is well, replied Richard, adding, Shelton ye may go. Say, said Lord Foxon, this young man, likewise, had a charge from me. It may be he hath better speed. Say, Master Shelton, have ye found the maid? I praise the saints, my Lord, said Dick, she is in this house. Is it even so? Well then, my Lord the Duke, resumed Lord Foxon, with your good will to-morrow, before the army march, I do propose a marriage, this young squire. Young knight, interrupted Catsby. Say ye so, sir William, cried Lord Foxon. I did myself, and for good service, dub him night, said Gloucester. He hath twice, manfully served me. It is not valor of hands. It is a man's mind of iron that he lacks. He will not rise, Lord Foxon, to the fellow that will fight indeed bravely in a melee, but hath a capon's heart. Albeit, if he is to marry, marry him in the name of Mary and be done. Nay, he is a brave lad, I know it, said Lord Foxon. Content ye then, sir Richard, I have compounded this affair with Master Hamley, and to-morrow ye shall wed. Whereupon Dick judged it prudent to withdraw, but he was not yet clear of the refractory, when a man, but newly alighted at the gate, came running four stairs had abound, and brushing through the Abbey's servants, threw himself on one knee before the Duke. Victory, my Lord! He cried. And before Dick had got to the chamber, set apart for him, as Lord Foxon's guest, the troops in the home were cheering round their fires. For upon that same day, not twenty miles away, a second, crushing blow had been dealt to the power of Lancaster. CHAPTER VII Dick's Revenge The next morning Dick was afoot before the sun, and having dressed himself to the best advantage, with the aid of Lord Foxon's baggage, and got good reports of Joan, he set forth on foot to walk away his impatience. For some while he made rounds among the soldiery, who were getting to arms in the wintry twilight of the dawn, and by the red glow of torches. But gradually he strolled further afield, and at length passed clean beyond the outpost, and walked alone in the frozen forest, waiting for the sun. His thoughts were both quiet and happy. His brief favour with the Duke he could not find it in his heart to mourn. With Joan to wife, and my Lord Foxon for a faithful patron, he looked most happily upon the future, and in the past he found but little to regret. As he thus strolled and pondered, the solemn light of the morning grew more clear. The east was already, coloured by the sun, and a little scathing wind blew up the frozen snow. He turned to go home, but even as he turned his eyes lit upon a figure behind a tree. Stand! he cried. Who goes? The figure stepped forth, and waved its hand like a dumb person. It was arrayed like a pilgrim. The hood lowered over the face. But Dick, in an instant, recognised Sir Daniel. He strode up to him, drawing his sword, and the night, holding his hand in his bosom, as if to seize a hidden weapon, steadfastly awaited his approach. Well, Dickon, said Sir Daniel, how is it to be? Do ye make war upon the fallen? I make no war upon your life, replied the lad. I was your true friend, until ye sought for mine. But ye have sought for it greedily. Nay, self-defense! replied the night. And now, boy, the news of this battle and the presence of yon crooked devil, here in mine own wood, have broken me beyond all help. I go to Hollywood for sanctuary, thence overseas, with what I can carry, and to begin life again in Burgundy or France. Ye may not go to Hollywood, said Dick. How may not? asked the night. Look ye, Sir Daniel, this is my marriage-mourn, said Dick. And yon's son, that is to rise, will make the brightest day that ever shone for me. Your life is forfeit, doubly forfeit, for my father's death, and your own practices to me word. But I myself have done a miss. I have brought about men's deaths. And upon this glad day I will be neither judge nor hangman. And ye were the devil, I would not lay a hand on you. And ye were the devil, ye might go where ye will for me. But seek God's forgiveness. Mine ye have freely. But to go on to Hollywood is different. I carry arms for York, and I will suffer no spy within their lines. Hold it, then, for certain. If ye set one foot before another, I will uplift my voice, and call the nearest post to seize you. Ye mock me, said Sir Daniel, I have no safety out of Hollywood. I care no more. Returned, Richard, I let you go east, west, or south. North I will not. Hollywood is shut against you. Go and seek not to return. For once ye are gone I will warn every post about this army, and there will be so shrewd a watch upon all pilgrims, that, once again, were ye the very devil, ye would find it ruined, to make the essay. Ye doom me, said Sir Daniel gloomily, I doom you not. Returned, Richard, if it so please you, to set your own valor against mine, come on. And though I fear it to be disloyal to my party, I will take the challenge openly and fully, fight you with my own single strength, and call for none to help me. So shall I avenge my father, with a perfect conscience. I, said Sir Daniel, ye have a long sword against my dagger. I rely upon heaven only, answered Dick, casting his sword some way behind him on the snow. Now, if your ill fate bids you come, and under the pleasure of the Almighty I make myself bold to feed your bones to foxes. I did, but try you, Dickon. Returned the night, with an uneasy semblance of a laugh. I would not spill your blood. Go then, ere it be too late, replied Shelton. In five minutes I will call the post. I do perceive that I am too long suffering. But our own place has been reversed. I should have been bound, hand and foot, some minutes past. Well, Dickon, I will go, replied Sir Daniel. When we next meet it shall repent you that ye were so harsh. And with these words the night turned and began to move off under the trees. Dick watched him with strangely mingled feelings, as he went swiftly and warily, and ever and again turning a wicked eye upon the lad who had spared him, and whom he still suspected. There was upon one side of where he went a thicket, strongly matted with green ivy, and even in its wintry state, impervious to the eye, herein, all of a sudden, a bow sounded like a note of music, an arrow flew, and with a great, choked cry of agony and anger, the night of Tunstall threw up his hands and fell forward in the snow. Dick bounded to his side and raised him. His face desperately worked. His whole body was shaken by contorting spasms. Is the arrow black? He gasped. It is black, replied Dick gravely. And then, before he could add one word, a desperate seizure of pain shook the wounded man from head to foot, so that his body leaped in Dick's supporting arms, and with the extremity of that pain, his spirit fled in silence. The young man laid him back gently on the snow, and prayed for that unprepared and guilty spirit, and as he prayed, the sun came up at a bound, and the robins began chirping in the ivy. When he rose to his feet he found another man upon his knees, but a few steps behind him, and still with uncovered head, he waited until that prayer also should be over. It took long, the man with his head bowed, and his face covered with his hands, prayed like one in a great disorder or distress of mind, and by the bow that lay beside him Dick judged that he was no other than the archer who had laid Sir Daniel Low. At length he also rose and showed the countenance of Ellis Duckworth. Richard, he said very gravely, I heard you, ye took the better part, and pardoned, I took the worse, and there lies the clay of mine enemy, pray for me. And he rung him by the hand. Sir, said Richard, I will pray for you indeed, though how I may prevail I watch not. But if ye have so long pursued revenge, and find it now of such a sorry flavour, be think ye, were it not well to pardon others? Hatch he is dead, poor shrew, I would have spared a better, and for Sir Daniel here lies his body, but for the priest if I might any wise prevail I would have you let him go. A flash came to the eyes of Ellis Duckworth, nay, he said, the devil is still strong within me, but be at rest, the black arrow flyeth nevermore, the fellowship is broken, they that still live shall come to their quiet and ripe end, in heaven's good time, for me, and for yourself, go where your better fortune calls you, and think no more of Ellis. End of Book 5, Chapter 7 Book 5, Chapter 8 of the Black Arrow The Black Arrow by Robert Louis Stevenson Book 5, Chapter 8, Conclusion About nine in the morning Lord Foxham was leading his ward, once more dressed as befitted her sex, and followed by Alicia Rizingham to the church of Hollywood, when Richard Crookback, his brow already heavy with cares, crossed their path and paused. Is this the maid? he asked, and when Lord Foxham had replied in the affirmative, Mignon, he added, hold up your face until I see its favour. He looked upon her sourly for a little. Ye are fair, he said at last, and as they tell me, dowered, how, if I offered you a brave marriage, as become your face and parentage. My Lord Duke, replied Joanna, may it please your grace, I had rather wed with Sir Richard. How so? he asked harshly. Mary, but the man I name you, and he shall be my Lord, and you my lady before night, for Sir Richard, let me tell you plainly, he will die, Sir Richard. I ask no more of heaven, my Lord, than but to die, Sir Richard's wife. returned Joanna. Lucky at that, my Lord, said Gloucester, turning to Lord Foxham, here be a pair for you, the lad, when for good services I gave him his choice of my favour, chose but the grace of an old drunken shipman. I did warn him freely, but he was stout in his besottedness. Here dyeth your favour, said I, and to you, my Lord, with a most assured impertinence, mine be the loss, quoth he, it shall be so by the rude. Said he so, cried Alisha, then well said Lion Driver. Who is this? asked the Duke. A prisoner of Sir Richard's, answered Lord Foxham, Mistress Alisha Rizingham. See that she be married to a sure man, said the Duke. I had thought of my kinsman Hamley, and it like your grace. Returned Lord Foxham. He hath well served the cause. It likes me well, said Richard, let them be wedded speedily. Say fair maid, will you wed? My Lord Duke, said Alisha, so as the man is straight. And there, in a perfect consternation, the voice died on her tongue. This, straight my mistress, replied Richard Comley, I am the only crook-back of my party. We are else passably well-shapen. Ladies and you, my Lord. He added, with a sudden change, to grave courtesy, judge me not to churlish if I leave you. A captain in the time of war hath not the ordering of his hours. And with a very handsome salutation he passed on, followed by his officers. Alack! cried Alisha, I am shent. Ye know him not, replied Lord Foxham, it is but a trifle. He hath already clean forgot your words. He is then the very flower of knighthood, said Alisha, nay, but he mindeth other things. Returned Lord Foxham, tarry we no more. In the chancel they found Dick waiting. Attended by a few young men. There were he and Joan united. When they came forth again, happy and yet serious, into the frosty air and sunlight, the long files of the army were already winding forward up the road. Already the Duke of Gloucester's banner was unfolded and began to move from before the abbey, in a clump of spears, and behind it, girt by steel-clad knights, the bold, black-hearted and ambitious hunchback, moved on towards its brief kingdom and its lasting infamy. But the wedding-party turned upon the other side and sat down, with sober merriment, to breakfast. The father-sellerer attended on their wants, and sat with them at table. Hamly, all jealousy forgotten, began to ply the no-wise loathe Alisha with courtship. And there, amid the sounding of tuckets, and the clash of armoured soldiery and horses continually moving forth, Dick and Joan sat side by side, tenderly held hands, and looked, with ever-growing affection in each other's eyes. Thenceforth the dust and blood of that unruly epic passed them by. They dwelt apart from alarms in the green forest where their love began. Two old men in the meanwhile enjoyed pensions in great prosperity and peace, and with perhaps a superfluity of ale and wine in tungstall hamlet. One had been all his life a shipman, and continued to the last to lament his man Tom. The other, who had been a bit of everything, turned in the end towards piety, and made a most religious death under the name of brother Onestas in the neighbouring Abbey. So Lala had his will, and died a friar. CHAPTER V AND END OF THE BLACK ARROW by Robert Lewiston