"All that is left of what was once a Danish galley, the scourge of our shore. There she lies, much the same as when burned by the great Alfred, now five hundred years or more ago. May a like fate befall every foreign craft that comes to harry our coasts!" Soon the channel became yet narrower, till the trees on the opposite banks met overhead. Redward had resumed the oars, and bend after bend of the river soon slipped past. "There's Botley Mill," said he, pointing to a low building, thatched-roofed and enclosed by walls of timber and mud, while above the rustle of the trees could be heard the dull roar of the stream as it swept under the water-wheel. At a landing-place close to the road they left the boat and walked up a short, steep incline to where the houses of the town encompassed the market-place. "Ah, there is Master Hobbes," said Redward, indicating a short, full-bodied man, clad in a suit of green cloth, who, surrounded by a crowd of yeomen and villagers, was disposing of his stock of arrows to the accompaniment of the latest news of the city of Winchester, and the prospects of the war against the French. "Ho, gossip!" cried the archer. "Hast aught of thy stock left for me?" "Ay, Master Buckland," replied the other, "'twould be an evil day for me if I failed to supply the good folk of Hamble with arrows--particularly thy noble self," he added with a servile bow. "Tut! tut!" growled the archer deprecatingly. "A truce to such compliments. These the arrows? A goodly bundle! But--stand aside with me a moment--how fares it with him?" he added in a mysterious manner. "As before no better, though perchance a trifle worse!" "But has he ceased to----" "Nay, nay! Far from it." "Ah!" muttered the archer moodily, "'tis as I feared, though not for myself. Then, perchance he has had tidings?" "That I cannot say." "That being so, Nick, I had best be on the move overseas, under Sir John Hacket's banner once again. That I'll do, and take Raymond with me! Thanks, good Master Hobbes," he added in a louder tone. "'Tis as I said before, a goodly bundle. God speed you!" And taking the arrows from the fletcher's hand, Redward called to his son to follow him and strode rapidly back to the boat. During the return journey Raymond noticed that something was amiss. His sire relapsed into a stony silence, treating any question with an unusual disregard that showed that his thoughts were far away. This puzzled Raymond, and he strove to find some reason for this unlooked-for reticence, the reference to the mysterious "he" which he had overheard persistently coming uppermost in his mind. Yet never a word on the subject did the boy let fall, and it was in no little bewilderment that he followed his father from the Hard back to the house on the hill-top.