“Agreed,” said the Queen. Thereupon she signed to Maid Marian to step forward, from a near-by booth where she sat with other ladies-in-waiting, and whispered something in her ear. Marian courtesied and withdrew. Now the ten chosen archers from the King’s bands came forth again and took their stand; and with them stood forth the twelve untried men from the open lists. Again the crowd was stilled, and every eye hung upon the speeding of the shafts. Slowly but skilfully each man shot, and as his shaft struck within the inner ring a deep breath broke from the multitude like the sound of the wind upon the seashore. And now Gilbert of the White Hand led the shooting, and ‘twas only by the space of a hairsbreadth upon the line that Tepus tied his score. Stout Elwyn, the Welshman, took third place; one of the private archers, named Geoffrey, come fourth; while Clifton must needs content himself with fifth. The men from the open lists shot fairly true, but nervousness and fear of ridicule wrought their undoing. The herald then came forward again, and, instead of announcing the prize-winners, proclaimed that there was to be a final contest. Two men had tied for first place, declared His Majesty the King, and three others were entitled to honors. Now all these five were to shoot again, and they were to be pitted against five other of the Queen’s choosing--men who had not yet shot upon that day. A thrill of astonishment and excitement swept around the arena. “Who were these men of the Queen’s choosing?” was upon every lip. The hubbub of eager voices grew intense; and in the midst of it all, the gate at the far end of the field opened and five men entered and escorted a lady upon horseback across the arena to the royal box. The lady was instantly recognized as Mistress Marian of the Queen’s household, but no one seemed to know the faces of her escort. Four were clad in Lincoln green, while the fifth, who seemed to be the leader, was dressed in a brave suit of scarlet red. Each man wore a close fitting cap of black, decked with a curling white feather. For arms, they carried simply a stout bow, a sheaf of new arrows, and a short hunting-knife. When the little party came before the dais on which the King and Queen sat, the yeomen doffed their caps humbly, while Maid Marian was assisted to dismount. “Your Gracious Majesty,” she said, addressing the Queen, “these be the men for whom you sent me, and who are now come to wear your colors and service you in the tourney.” The Queen leaned forward and handed them each a scarf of green and gold. “Lockesley,” she said in a clear voice, “I thank thee and thy men for this service. Know that I have laid a wager with the King that ye can outshoot the best five whom he has found in all his bowmen.” The five men pressed the scarfs to their lips in token of fealty. The King turned to the Queen inquiringly. “Who are these men you have brought before us?” asked he.