Methinks they are within long arrow flight." "Seventeen score paces," said the archer, running his eye backwards and forwards.

"By my ten finger-bones! it would be a strange thing if we could not notch a mark at that distance.

Here, Watkin of Sowley, Arnold, Long Williams, let us show the rogues that they have English bowmen to deal with." The three archers named stood at the further end of the poop, balancing themselves with feet widely spread and bows drawn, until the heads of the cloth-yard arrows were level with the centre of the stave.

"You are the surer, Watkin," said Aylward, standing by them with shaft upon string.

"Do you take the rogue with the red coif.