The sheep were patiently browsing; the birds had settled.

But there lay the old man, with a cloth-yard arrow standing in his back; and there were Hatch holding to the gable, 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.