Chapter 9 - Page 2

to men who had ridden
with Sir Daniel to the field. Lastly, a little before dawn, a
spearman had come staggering to the moat side, pierced by three
arrows; even as they carried him in, his spirit had departed; but
by the words that he uttered in his agony, he must have been the
last survivor of a considerable company of men.

Hatch himself showed, under his sun-brown, the pallour of anxiety;
and when he had taken Dick aside and learned the fate of Selden, he
fell on a stone bench and fairly wept. The others, from where they
sat on stools or doorsteps in the sunny angle of the court, looked
at him with wonder and alarm, but none ventured to inquire the
cause of his emotion.

"Nay, Master Shelton," said Hatch, at last - "nay, but what said I?
We shall all go. Selden was a man of his hands; he was like a
brother to me. Well, he has gone second; well, we shall all
follow! For what said their knave rhyme? - 'A black arrow in each
black heart.' Was it not so it went? Appleyard, Selden, Smith,
old Humphrey gone; and there lieth poor John Carter, crying, poor
sinner, for the priest."

Dick gave ear. Out of a low window, hard by where they were
talking, groans and murmurs came to his ear.

"Lieth he there?" he asked.

"Ay, in the second porter's chamber," answered Hatch. "We could
not bear him further, soul and body were so bitterly at odds. At
every step we lifted him, he thought to wend. But now, methinks,
it is the soul that suffereth. Ever for the priest he crieth, and
Sir Oliver, I wot not why, still cometh not. 'Twill be a long
shrift; but poor Appleyard and poor Selden, they had none."

Dick stooped to the window and looked in. The little cell was low
and dark, but he could make out the wounded soldier lying moaning
on his pallet.

"Carter, poor friend, how goeth it?" he asked.

"Master Shelton," returned the man, in an excited whisper, "for the
dear light of heaven, bring the priest. Alack, I am sped; I am
brought very low down; my hurt is to the death. Ye may do me no
more service; this shall be the last. Now, for my poor soul's
interest, and as a loyal gentleman, bestir you; for I have that
matter on my conscience that shall drag me deep."

He groaned, and Dick heard the grating of his teeth, whether in
pain or terror.

Just then Sir Daniel appeared upon the threshold of the hall. He
had a letter in one hand.

"Lads," he said, "we have had a shog, we have had a tumble;
wherefore, then, deny it? Rather it imputeth to get speedily again
to saddle. This old Harry the Sixt has had the undermost. Wash
we, then, our hands of him. I have a good friend that rideth next
the duke, the Lord of Wensleydale. Well, I have writ a letter to