The archers and archeresses were now drawn up on the flags under the semicircular piazza just before Mrs. Yearsley’s library. A little band of children, who had been mustered by Lady Diana Sweepstakes’ _spirited exertions_, closed the procession. They were now all in readiness. The drummer only waited for her ladyship’s signal; and the archers’ corps only waited for her ladyship’s word of command to march. “Where are your bow and arrows, my little man?” said her ladyship to Hal, as she reviewed her Lilliputian regiment. “You can’t march, man, without your arms?” Hal had despatched a messenger for his forgotten bow, but the messenger returned not. He looked from side to side in great distress—“Oh, there’s my bow coming, I declare!” cried he; “look, I see the bow and the ribands. Look now, between the trees, Charles Sweepstakes, on the Hotwell Walk; it is coming!” “But you’ve kept us all waiting a confounded time,” said his impatient friend. “It is that good-natured poor fellow from Bristol, I protest, that has brought it me; I’m sure I don’t deserve it from him,” said Hal, to himself, when he saw the lad with the black patch on his eye running, quite out of breath, towards him, with his bow and arrows. “Fall back, my good friend—fall back,” said the military lady, as soon as he had delivered the bow to Hal; “I mean, stand out of the way, for your great patch cuts no figure amongst us. Don’t follow so close, now, as if you belonged to us, pray.” The poor boy had no ambition to partake the triumph; he _fell back_ as soon as he understood the meaning of the lady’s words. The drum beat, the fife played, the archers marched, the spectators admired. Hal stepped proudly, and felt as if the eyes of the whole universe were upon his epaulettes, or upon the facings of his uniform; whilst all the time he was considered only as part of a show. The walk appeared much shorter than usual, and he was extremely sorry that Lady Diana, when they were half-way up the hill leading to Prince’s Place, mounted her horse, because the road was dirty, and all the gentlemen and ladies who accompanied her followed her example. “We can leave the children to walk, you know,” said she to the gentleman who helped her to mount her horse. “I must call to some of them, though, and leave orders where they are to _join_.”