"Some day," he said, "thou mayest lead thy archery hitherward. Spare not to learn aught that might serve thee if thou wert a captain, in whatever land thou shalt at any time visit."
At the close of the day, when the vespers were ringing sweetly in the cathedral tower, Richard was with his men, and they gathered around him gladly, telling how well they had fared.
"Guy the Bow," laughed Richard, "tell me truly, now, of those who have been with thee. Hast thou broken thy jaws with French or north English, or hast thou chattered in Saxon?"
The laugh was echoed from man to man, and Guy the Bow responded:
"Now, my lord, knowest thou this already? There be more of the old sort here than in Warwickshire. They tell that there be many Nevilles hereaway, and it seemed right to them that one of thy house should be our captain. But I hear that the bowmen of these parts are to be kept at home."
"Say not too much of that to any man," said Richard, for at once he remembered the words of the archbishop.
"The king," he thought, "will deal with the Scots as with the French. They must get their teaching from the longbow and the cloth-yard arrow."
Rest came well that night after so long a journey. The next day, and the next, were but spent in seeing sights and in waiting for orders. On the third day, however, before the sun was a half hour high, came Sir Robert Johnstone to greet his young friend.
"Up, Richard of Wartmont!" he gayly shouted. "Take thou this pouch and keep it with thy life until thou shalt deliver it to the king's hand. Thine uncle the earl, or the prince, shall be to thee as the king, but on thy life and on thy head give it to no other."
The parcel was small and it was tightly bound in dressed deerskin. It could be hidden under a coat of mail, and there did Richard at once conceal it.