“I tell thee that when thou’rt my squire indeed, and I a knight in truth, and not by courtesy only, I’ll have thee ever ride beside me with thy bow upon thy back, though thou shalt wear garments of velvet instead of Lincoln green and a good broadsword shall swing by thy side. Then can we strike down any caitiff from afar, if need be. And many a night when we make bivouac in the forest or on the moorlands we shall sup right royally on the hares or moorfowl which thy skill will provide, and snap our fingers at the inns and all the houses of the towns.” “’Tis a fair thought,” sighed Cedric. “An oak-leaf bed in a glade, by a goodly stream, is ever more to my liking than any made in a dwelling, save in the wet or bitter weather. But, for Old Marvin now—Methinks ’twould please me well to shoot against him at archer match. Were I bested by such as he, ’twould be no honor lost.” “By my faith!” I shouted, “such a match we will have. ’Twill be a fair sight indeed to see two archers such as thou and Marvin at the marks. We’ll have a festival for all the friends of Mountjoy, noble and simple, and roast an ox for their regalement. Since the Shrewsbury court and the battle trial that freed thee and me from all charges of foul play in the matter of Lionel of Carleton, and now that my father is nearly well of his wounds, the Mountjoys have reason enough to rejoice. We’ll have a day to be remembered.” Just then Old Marvin, who did chop for firewood a fallen yew in the field near by, caught sight of us, and, dropping his ax, came forward to greet us. “A fine morning for the woods, Sir Dickon,” he said, doffing his headgear to me and nodding to Cedric. “Could not one get the leeward of a buck on such a day?” “Aye,” I answered, full the while of my new thought, “and if either thou or Cedric here did come within a hundred paces, we should eat on the morrow of a fair pasty of venison. But what say’st thou, Marvin to an archer match with Cedric? Thou knowest he is newly in our service, but that he hath an eye for the homing of his bolt. Of all the Mountjoy men he alone is worthy to shoot against thee.” “Aye,” cried Marvin, eagerly. “I have heard much of his skill. ’Tis said that for such a youth he shoots most wondrous well. For twenty years no Mountjoy hath striven with me at tourney; and a fair day at the marks would like me well. Will there be a prize, think’st thou?” “Aye, that there will be,” I returned full gaily, for now methought the day promised such sport as we had not had for years; and I was fair lifted up with the picture of it that filled my mind. “I’ll make my father give to him who wins the day the best milch cow in all the Mountjoy barns. How likest thou that, Marvin? Could’st thou use such a beast on thy little farm?” “Marry! Well could I,” answered Marvin, his eyes shining as brightly as a youth’s. “My dame did tell me yesterday ’tis what we most do lack.”