that, unwilling so
many good yeomen should depart without a trial of skill, he was pleased to
appoint them, before leaving the ground, presently to execute the competition of
archery intended for the morrow. To the best archer a prize was to be awarded,
being a bugle-horn, mounted with silver, and a silken baldric richly ornamented
with a medallion of St. Hubert, the patron of silvan sport.
    More than thirty yeomen at first presented themselves as competitors,
several of whom were rangers and under-keepers in the royal forests of Needwood
and Charnwood. When, however, the archers understood with whom they were to be
matched, upwards of twenty withdrew themselves from the contest, unwilling to
encounter the dishonour of almost certain defeat. For in those days the skill of
each celebrated marksman was as well known for many miles round him, as the
qualities of a horse trained at Newmarket are familiar to those who frequent
that well-known meeting.
    The diminished list of competitors for silvan fame still amounted to eight.
Prince John stepped from his royal seat to view more nearly the persons of these
chosen yeomen, several of whom wore the royal livery. Having satisfied his
curiosity by this investigation, he looked for the object of his resentment,
whom he observed standing on the same spot, and with the same composed
countenance which he had exhibited upon the preceding day.
    »Fellow,« said Prince John, »I guessed by thy insolent babble thou wert no
true lover of the long bow, and I see thou darest not adventure thy skill among
such merry-men as stand yonder.«
    »Under favour, sir,« replied the yeoman, »I have another reason for
refraining to shoot, besides the fearing discomfiture and disgrace.«
    »And what is thy other reason?« said Prince John, who, for some cause which
perhaps he could not himself have explained, felt a painful curiosity respecting
this individual.
    »Because,« replied the woodsman, »I know not if these yeomen and I are used
to shoot at the same marks; and because, moreover, I know not how your Grace
might relish the winning of a third prize by one who has unwittingly fallen
under your displeasure.«
    Prince John coloured as he put the question, »What is thy name, yeoman?«
    »Locksley,« answered the yeoman.
    »Then, Locksley,« said Prince John, »thou shalt shoot in thy turn, when
these yeomen have displayed their skill. If thou carriest the prize, I will add
to it twenty nobles; but if thou losest it,