Would ye rob the man before his body ? Nay , he would walk ! '' Hatch made several signs of the cross ; but by this time his natural complexion had returned , and he was not easily to be dashed from any purpose . It would have gone hard with the chest had not the gate sounded , and presently after the door of the house opened and admitted a tall , portly , ruddy , black-eyed man of near fifty , in a surplice and black robe . `` Appleyard '' -- the newcomer was saying , as he entered ; but he stopped dead . `` Ave Maria ! '' he cried . `` Saints be our shield ! What cheer is this ? '' `` Cold cheer with Appleyard , sir parson , '' answered Hatch , with perfect cheerfulness . `` Shot at his own door , and alighteth even now at purgatory gates . Ay ! there , if tales be true , he shall lack neither coal nor candle . '' Sir Oliver groped his way to a joint-stool , and sat down upon it , sick and white . `` This is a judgment ! O , a great stroke ! '' he sobbed , and rattled off a leash of prayers . Hatch meanwhile reverently doffed his salet and knelt down . `` Ay , Bennet , '' said the priest , somewhat recovering , `` and what may this be ? What enemy hath done this ? ''
`` Here , Sir XXXXX , is the arrow .
Appleyard Ave Ay Bennet Hatch Oliver alighteth joint-stool salet surplice