"Off with you then, Mr. Uniform, if you mean to go," said Mr. Gresham.
Hal ran downstairs in such a hurry that he forgot his bow and arrows. Ben discovered this when he went to fetch his own; and the lad from Bristol, who had been ordered by Mr. Gresham to eat his breakfast before he proceeded to Redland Chapel, heard Ben talking about his cousin's bow and arrows.
"I know," said Ben, "he will be sorry not to have his bow with him, because here are the green knots tied to it, to match his cockade; and he said that the boys were all to carry their bows as part of the show."
"If you'll give me leave, sir," said the poor Bristol lad, "I shall have plenty of time; and I'll run down to the Well-Walk after the young gentleman, and take him his bow and arrows."
"Will you? I shall be much obliged to you," said Ben; and away went the boy with the bow that was ornamented with green ribands.
The public walk leading to the Wells was full of company. The windows of all the houses in St. Vincent's parade were crowded with well-dressed ladies, who were looking out in expectation of the archery procession. Parties of gentlemen and ladies, and a motley crowd of spectators, were seen moving backwards and forwards under the rocks, on the opposite side of the water. A barge, with colored streamers flying, was waiting to take up a party, who were going upon the water. The bargemen rested upon their oars, and gazed with broad faces of curiosity on the busy scene that appeared upon the public walk.
The archers and archeresses were now drawn up on the flags under the semi-circular piazza just before Mrs. Yearsley's library. A little band of children, who had been mustered by Lady Diana Sweepstakes' spirited exertions, closed the procession. They were now all in readiness. The drummer only waited for her ladyship's signal; and the archers' corps only waited for her ladyship's word of command to march.
"Where are your bow and arrows, my little man?" said her ladyship to Hal, as she reviewed her Lilliputian regiment. "You can't march, man, without your arms!"
Hal had dispatched a messenger for his forgotten bow, but the messenger returned not; he looked from side to side in great distress. "Oh, there's my bow coming, I declare!" cried he; "look, I see the bow and the ribands; look now, between the trees, Charles Sweepstakes, on the Hot-well Walk; it is coming."
"But you've kept us all waiting a confounded time," said his impatient friend.