bow at the full stretch of his left arm, till the centre or
grasping-place was nigh level with his face, he drew his
bowstring to his ear. The arrow whistled through the air, and
lighted within the inner ring of the target, but not exactly in
the centre.

"You have not allowed for the wind, Hubert," said his antagonist,
bending his bow, "or that had been a better shot."

So saying, and without showing the least anxiety to pause upon
his aim, Locksley stept to the appointed station, and shot his
arrow as carelessly in appearance as if he had not even looked at
the mark. He was speaking almost at the instant that the shaft
left the bowstring, yet it alighted in the target two inches
nearer to the white spot which marked the centre than that of
Hubert.

"By the light of heaven!" said Prince John to Hubert, "an thou
suffer that runagate knave to overcome thee, thou art worthy of
the gallows!"

Hubert had but one set speech for all occasions. "An your
highness were to hang me," he said, "a man can but do his best.
Nevertheless, my grandsire drew a good bow---"

"The foul fiend on thy grandsire and all his generation!"
interrupted John , "shoot, knave, and shoot thy best, or it shall
be the worse for thee!"

Thus exhorted, Hubert resumed his place, and not neglecting the