"Yes, yes."
"In the fist by his side I think he holds a bow like yours; but the distance is too great for me to make sure what it is."
"He has no cross-bow at least."
"No, it is not a cross-bow."
"I thought so. No cross-bow could have sent shaft like that. I doubt also if archer living, save Roger Kent, could have——"
"He seems to be placing another arrow on the string."
"Then down, down with you. If he has caught sight of your head you are doomed."
An instant later another arrow struck the helmet, glanced over the tower, and disappeared in the forest beyond.
"Now come and sit beside me, Gottlieb," said Surrey, as he lifted the helmet gently and moved away his head from beneath it, not shifting the cap except slightly upwards from its position. "Get under this, and sit steadily so that the target may not be displaced."
Having thus crowned his dependent, Surrey crawled to his bow and selected a well-finished arrow.