St. Anthony's fire, and a black man who had served him as cook—those are the pair that we are in chase of.'
'The black man fled over to that side,' said Alleyne pointing towards the barrow.
'He could not have gone far, sir bailiff,' cried one of the archers, unslinging his bow. 'He is in hiding somewhere for he knew well, black paynim as he is, that our horses' four legs could outstrip his two.'
'Then we shall have him,' said the other. 'It shall never be said whilst I am Bailiff of Southampton, that any waster, riever, drawlatch or murtherer came scathless away from me and my posse. Leave that rogue lying. Now stretch out in line, my merry ones, with arrow on string, and I shall show you such sport as only the king can give. You on the left, Howett, and Thomas of Redbridge upon the right. So! Beat high and low among the heather, and a pot of wine to the lucky marksman.'
As it chanced, however, the searchers had not far to seek. The negro had burrowed down into his hiding-place upon the barrow, where he might have lain snug enough, had it not been for the red gear upon his head. As he raised himself to look over the bracken at his enemies, the staring colour caught the eye of the bailiff, who broke into a long screeching whoop and spurred forward sword in hand. Seeing himself discovered, the man rushed out from his hiding-place, and bounded at the top of his speed down the line of archers, keeping a good hundred paces to the front of them. The two who were on either side of Alleyne bent their bows as calmly as though they were shooting at the popinjay at a village fair.
'Seven yards windage, Hal,' said one, whose hair was streaked with grey.
'Five,' replied the other, letting loose his string. Alleyne gave a gulp in his throat, for the yellow streak seemed to pass through the man; but be still ran forward.
'Seven, you jack-fool,' growled the first speaker, and his bow twanged like a harpstring. The black man sprang high up into the air, and shot out both his arms and his legs,
