At this, all that stood around whispered to one another, wondering what it all meant, and what three men the Queen was about to set against those famous archers of the King's guard.
And now the ten archers of the King's guard took their stand again, and all the great crowd was hushed to the stillness of death.

Slowly and carefully each man shot his shafts, and so deep was the silence that you could hear every arrow rap against the target as it struck it.

Then, when the last shaft had sped, a great roar went up; and the shooting, I wot, was well worthy of the sound.

Once again Gilbert had lodged three arrows in the white; Tepus came second with two in the white and one in the black ring next to it; but stout Clifton had gone down and Hubert of Suffolk had taken the third place, for, while both those two good yeomen had lodged two in the white, Clifton had lost one shot upon the fourth ring, and Hubert came in with one in the third.
All the archers around Gilbert's booth shouted for joy till their throats were hoarse, tossing their caps aloft, and shaking hands with one another.
In the midst of all the noise and hubbub five men came walking across the lawn toward the King's pavilion.

The first was Richard Partington, and was known to most folk there, but the others were strange to everybody.