three shot again, and once more each arrow lodged within the clout, but
this time Adam o' the Dell's was farthest from the center, and again the
tattered stranger's shot was the best. Then, after another time of
rest, they all shot for the third time. This time Gilbert took great
heed to his aim, keenly measuring the distance and shooting with
shrewdest care. Straight flew the arrow, and all shouted till the very
flags that waved in the breeze shook with the sound, and the rooks and
daws flew clamoring about the roofs of the old gray tower, for the shaft
had lodged close beside the spot that marked the very center.

"Well done, Gilbert!" cried the Sheriff right joyously. "Fain am I to
believe the prize is thine, and right fairly won. Now, thou ragged
knave, let me see thee shoot a better shaft than that."

Nought spake the stranger but took his place, while all was hushed, and
no one spoke or even seemed to breathe, so great was the silence for
wonder what he would do. Meanwhile, also, quite still stood the
stranger, holding his bow in his hand, while one could count five; then
he drew his trusty yew, holding it drawn but a moment, then loosed the
string. Straight flew the arrow, and so true that it smote a gray goose
feather from off Gilbert's shaft, which fell fluttering through the
sunlit air as the stranger's arrow lodged close beside his of the Red
Cap, and in the very center. No one spoke a word for a while and no one
shouted, but each man looked into his neighbor's face amazedly.

"Nay," quoth old Adam o' the Dell presently, drawing a long breath and
shaking his head as he spoke, "twoscore years and more have I shot
shaft, and maybe not all times bad, but I shoot no more this day, for no
man can match with yon stranger, whosoe'er he may be." Then he thrust
his shaft into his quiver, rattling, and unstrung his bow without