When he had done , he got to his feet again , drew off one of his mailed gauntlets , and wiped his pale face , which was all wet with terror . `` Ay , '' he said , `` it 'll be my turn next . '' `` Who hath done this , Bennet ? '' Richard asked , still holding the arrow in his hand . `` Nay , the saints know , '' said Hatch . `` Here are a good two score Christian souls that we have hunted out of house and holding , he and I . He has paid his shot , poor shrew , nor will it be long , mayhap , ere I pay mine . Sir Daniel driveth over-hard . '' `` This is a strange shaft , '' said the lad , looking at the arrow in his hand . `` Ay , by my faith ! '' cried Bennet . `` Black , and black-feathered . Here is an ill-favoured shaft , by my sooth ! for black , they say , bodes burial . And here be words written . Wipe the blood away . What read ye ? '' '' ' Appulyaird fro Jon Amend-All , ' '' read Shelton . `` What should this betoken ? '' `` Nay , I like it not , '' returned the retainer , shaking his head .
`` John XXXXX !
Amend-All Bennet Christian Hatch Richard Shelton mayhap retainer shrew sooth