Did you not promise to whip me round your walls last night unless I shot as well as I thought I could, and now do you not change your face and give me golden arrows ?" At these bold words a roar of laughter went up from all who heard them, in which the King himself joined heartily enough.
"Silence!" he cried presently.

"This yeoman's tongue is as sharp as his shafts.

I am pierced.

Let us hear whom he will hit next." "You again, Sire, I think," went on Dick, "because, after the fashion of kings, you are unjust.

You praise me for my shooting, whereas you should praise God, seeing that it is no merit of mine, but a gift He gave me at my birth in place of much which He withheld.