CHAPTER VIII. THE THREE FRIENDS.

Hiscompanionshadpassedonwhilsthewasathisorisonsbuthisyoungbloodandthefreshmorningairbothinvitedhimtoascamper.Hisstaffinonehandandhisscripintheother,withspringystepandfloatinglocks,heracedalongtheforestpath,asactiveandasgracefulasayoungdeer.Hehadnotfartogo,howeverfor,onturningacorner,hecameonaroadsidecottagewithawoodenfence-workaroundit,wherestoodbigJohnandAylwardthebowman,staringatsomethingwithin.Ashecameupwiththem,hesawthattwolittlelads,theoneaboutnineyearsofageandtheothersomewhatolder,werestandingontheplotinfrontofthecottage,eachholdingoutaroundstickintheirlefthands,withtheirarmsstiffandstraightfromtheshoulder,assilentandstillastwosmallstatues.Theywerepretty,blue-eyed,yellow-hairedlads,wellmadeandsturdy,withbronzedskins,whichspokeofawoodlandlife. “Hereareyoungchipsfromanoldbowstave!”criedthesoldieringreatdelight.“Thisistheproperwaytoraisechildren.Bymyhilt!IcouldnothavetrainedthembetterhadItheorderingofitmyself.” “Whatisitthen?”askedHordleJohn.“Theystandverystiff,andItrustthattheyhavenotbeenstruckso.” “Nay,theyaretrainingtheirleftarms,thattheymayhaveasteadygraspofthebow.Somyownfathertrainedme,andsixdaysaweekIheldouthiswalking-stafftillmyarmwasheavyaslead.Hola,mesenfants!howlongwillyouholdout?” “Untilthesunisoverthegreatlime-tree,goodmaster,”theelderanswered. “Whatwouldyebe,then?Woodmen?Verderers?” “Nay,soldiers,”theycriedbothtogether. “Bythebeardofmyfather!butyearewhelpsofthetruebreed.Whysokeen,then,tobesoldiers?” “ThatwemayfighttheScots,”theyanswered.“DaddywillsendustofighttheScots.” “AndwhytheScots,myprettylads?WehaveseenFrenchandSpanishgalleysnofurtherawaythanSouthampton,butIdoubtthatitwillbesometimebeforetheScotsfindtheirwaytotheseparts.” “OurbusinessiswiththeScots,”quoththeelder“foritwastheScotswhocutoffdaddy'sstringfingersandhisthumbs.” “Aye,lads,itwasthat,”saidadeepvoicefrombehindAlleyne'sshoulder.Lookinground,thewayfarerssawagaunt,big-bonedman,withsunkencheeksandasallowface,whohadcomeupbehindthem.Hehelduphistwohandsashespoke,andshowedthatthethumbsandtwofirstfingershadbeentornawayfromeachofthem. “Mafoi,camarade!”criedAylward.“Whohathservedtheeinsoshamefulafashion?” “Itiseasytosee,friend,thatyouwerebornfarfromthemarchesofScotland,”quoththestranger,withabittersmile.“NorthofHumberthereisnomanwhowouldnotknowthehandiworkofDevilDouglas,theblackLordJames.” “Andhowfellyouintohishands?”askedJohn. “Iamamanofthenorthcountry,fromthetownofBeverleyandthewapentakeofHolderness,”heanswered.“Therewasadaywhen,fromTrenttoTweed,therewasnobettermarksmanthanRobinHeathcot.Yet,asyousee,hehathleftme,ashehathleftmanyanotherpoorborderarcher,withnogripforbillorbow.Yetthekinghathgivenmealivinghereinthesouthlands,andpleaseGodthesetwoladsofminewillpayoffadebtthathathbeenowingoverlong.Whatisthepriceofdaddy'sthumbs,boys?” “TwentyScottishlives,”theyansweredtogether. “Andforthefingers?” “Halfascore.” “Whentheycanbendmywar-bow,andbringdownasquirrelatahundredpaces,IsendthemtotakeserviceunderJohnnyCopeland,theLordoftheMarchesandGovernorofCarlisle.Bymysoul!IwouldgivetherestofmyfingerstoseetheDouglaswithinarrow-flightofthem.” “Mayyoulivetoseeit,”quoththebowman.“Andharkye,mesenfants,takeanoldsoldier'sredeandlayyourbodiestothebow,drawingfromhipandthighasmuchasfromarm.Learnalso,Iprayyo