Then they looked at his bow, and saw that it was old-fashioned, like his master’s mail, and of some foreign make and wood, but a mighty weapon such as few could handle and hold straight.  Lastly, they began to challenge him to a match upon the morrow, to which he answered, who also had been drinking ale and was growing angry, that he’d give the best of them five points in fifty.

Now they mocked, for among them were some famous archers, and asked at what range.

“At any ye will,” answered Grey Dick, “from twelve score yards down to one score yards.  Now trouble me no longer, who if I must shoot to-morrow would sleep first and drink no more of your strong ale that breeds bad humours in one reared upon dyke water.”

Then, seizing his bow, he glided away in his curious stoat-like fashion to the hole where he had been shown that he should sleep.

“A braggart!” said one.

“I am not so sure,” answered a grizzled captain of archers, who had fought in many wars.  “Braggarts make a noise, but this fellow only spoke when we squeezed him and perhaps what came out of those thin lips was truth.  At least, from his look I’d sooner not find him against me bow to bow.”

Then they fell to betting which of them would beat Grey Dick by the heaviest points.

Next morning about nine o’clock the King sent a messenger to Hugh, bidding him and his servant Richard wait upon them.  They went with this messenger, who led them to a little chamber, where his Grace sat, attended only by the clerk, Brother Peter, and a dark-browed minister, whose name he never learned.

“Hugh de Cressi and Richard Archer,” said Edward, motioning to the minister to hand Hugh a parchment to which hung a great seal, “here is the pardon which I promised you.  No need to stay to read it, since it is as wide as Windsor Keep, and woe betide him who lifts hand against either of you for aught you may have done or left undone in the past contrary to the laws of our realm.  Yet remember well that this grace runs not to the future.  Now that matter is ended, and we come to one that is greater.  Because of the faith put in you by our loyal and beloved subject, Sir Andrew Arnold, your godsire, and because we like the fashion of you, Hugh de Cressi, and hold you brave and honest, it has pleased us to give you a commission under which we direct the Mayor of Dunwich and all true and lawful men of that town and hundred to aid you in the taking or, if need be, in the slaying of our subject, Sir Edmund Acour, Count of Noyon and Seigneur of Cattrina.  We command you to bring this man before us alive or dead, that his cause may be judged of our courts and the truth of the matter alleged against him by the Reverend Father Sir Andrew Arnold therein determined.  Nevertheless, we command you not to wound or kill the said knight unless he resists the authority of us by you conveyed and you cannot otherwise hold him safe from escaping from out this our realm.  This commission you will presently go forth to execute, keeping its tenor and your aim secret until the moment comes to strike, and, as you perform your duty, of which you will return and make report to us, so shall we judge and reward you.  Do you understand?”