"Yonder," said the landlord, pointing at a stable, "in the first stall on the right is thy good steed. Ride hard, but kill her not, and send her back to me. I would serve the king and beat his enemies. If thou sleepest too long, I will arouse thee."
Down sank Richard upon a heap of hay, but his bow and arrows were with him as well as his pennoned lance.
How long he slumbered he knew not, but he was feverish, restive, and his ears were not so dull in sleep that they did not catch a faint clang of steel. He woke, but he stirred not, and he lay listening.
"Put thou thy dagger deeply in below the lad's ear!" he heard one say. "He must die without speech. Curse on that hostel keeper! I fear me he hath betrayed us. We found not the king's messenger in the house. I think he is somewhere here away. Search well, but be silent."
Only dim was the lanthorn they carried, but Richard could see three men, and one of them wore mail, without a headpiece. He it was that spoke, and his sword was in his hand. The other twain were in buff coats, and of one of these his long, two-edged, dagger knife was already drawn. They saw not yet the young bowman in the hay, but he was fitting an arrow to the string.
"Ten yards! I must not miss. I will even smite him through the face," thought Richard.
Loudly twanged the bow, and out of the belt came a second arrow to the string.
Loudly twanged the bow.