the bow, sat down to get my breath. On came the French, shouting and
jabbering at us to the effect that they would cut our throats and carry
off _la belle dame_ to be their sport.

"She shall be mine!" yelled a big fellow with a flattened nose and a
wide mouth who was ahead of the others, and not more than fifty yards
away.

I rose, and praying my patron, good St. Hubert after whom I was named
because I first saw light upon his day, the 23rd of November, to give
me skill, I drew the great bow to my ear, aimed, and loosed. Nor did
St. Hubert, a lover of fine shooting, fail me in my need, for that arrow
rushed out and found its home in the big mouth of the Frenchman, through
which it passed, pinning his foul tongue to his neck bone.

Down he went, and cheered by the sight I refitted and loosed at the
next. Him, too, the arrow caught, so that he fell almost on the other.

I set the third and last arrow on the string and waited a space. Behind
these two was a squat, broad man, a knight I suppose, for he wore
armour, and had a shield with a cock painted on it. This man, frightened
by the fate of his companions, yet not minded to give up the venture
for those in rear of him urged him on, bent himself almost double, and
holding the shield over his helm which was closed, so as to protect his
head and body, came on at a good pace.

I waited till he was within five-and-twenty yards or so, hoping that
the roughness of the ground would cause him to stumble and the shield to
shift so that I could get a chance at him behind it. But I did not, so
at last, again praying to St. Hubert, I drew the big bow till the string