“Aye, my lord,” responded the Queen demurely. “But, bethink you—I have your royal promise of grace and amnesty.”
“That will I keep,” said the King, holding in check his ire by a mighty effort. “But, look you! Only forty days do I grant of respite. When this time has elapsed, let these bold outlaws look to their safety!”
Then turning to his five victorious archers, who had drawn near, he added, “Ye have heard, my men, how that I have a wager with the Queen upon your prowess. Now here be men of her choosing—certain free shafts of Sherwood and Barnesdale. Wherefore look well to it, Gilbert and Tepus and Geoffrey and Elwyn and Clifton! If ye outshoot these knaves, I will fill your caps with silver pennies—aye, and knight the man who stands first. But if ye lose, I give the prizes, for which ye have just striven, to Robin Hood and his men, according to my royal word.”
“Robin Hood and his men!” the saying flew round the arena with the speed of wild-fire, and every neck craned forward to see the famous fellows who had dared to brave the King’s anger, because of the Queen.
Another target was now set up, at the same distance as the last, and it was decided that the ten archers should shoot three arrows in turn. Gilbert and Robin tossed up a penny for the lead, and it fell to the King’s men. So Clifton was bidden to shoot first.
Forth he stood, planting his feet firmly, and wetting his fingers before plucking the string. For he was resolved to better his losing score of that day. And in truth he did so, for the shaft he loosed sped true, and landed on the black bull’s-eye, though not in the exact center. Again he shot, and again he hit the black, on the opposite rim. The third shaft swerved downward and came within the second ring, some two fingers’ breadths away. Nathless, a general cry went up, as this was the best shooting Clifton had done that day.
Will Scarlet was chosen to follow him, and now took his place and carefully chose three round and full-feathered arrows.
“Careful, my sweet coz!” quoth Robin in a low tone. “The knave has left wide space at the center for all of your darts.”
But Robin gave Will the wrong caution, for over-much care spoiled his aim. His first shaft flew wide and lodged in the second ring even further away than the worst shot of Clifton.
“Your pardon, coz!” quoth Robin hastily. “Bid care go to the bottom of the sea, and do you loose your string before it sticks to your fingers!”