"Ay, royal Atheling," shouted the company, "compel the vaunter to show us a sample of his skill."
"Rather, let my lord, the Atheling, try his own skill once more," said
Wilfrid; "he can hit the mark himself, if he will."
Prince Edwin bent his bow, and this time the arrow entered the centre of the target. The ground rang with the plaudits of the spectators.
"Let us see now if Wilfrid, the son of Cendric, the traitor, can equal the Atheling's shot," shouted Brithric.
"Shoot, Wilfrid, shoot!" cried more than twenty voices among the royal wards.
"I have no wish to bend the bow to-day," said Wilfrid.
"Because you know that you must expose yourself to contempt by failing to make your vaunt good," said Brithric; "but you shall not escape thus lightly."
"Nothing but the express command of the prince, my master, will induce me to bend my bow to-day," said Wilfrid.
"Wilfrid, son of Cendric, I, Edwin Atheling, command thee to shoot at yonder mark," said the prince.
Wilfrid bowed his head in obedience to the mandate. He fitted the arrow to the string, and stepping a pace backward, took his aim and bent the bow. The arrow flew unerringly, and cleft in twain that of Prince Edwin which already remained fixed in the centre of the mark.