Instead of starting in a vain pursuit , he had whipped his crossbow from his back , bent it , and set a quarrel to the string ; and now , when the others had desisted , he turned to Bennet and asked if he should shoot . `` Shoot ! shoot ! '' cried the priest , with sanguinary violence . `` Cover him , Master Dick , '' said Bennet . `` Bring me him down like a ripe apple . '' The fugitive was now within but a few leaps of safety ; but this last part of the meadow ran very steeply uphill ; and the man ran slower in proportion . What with the greyness of the falling night , and the uneven movements of the runner , it was no easy aim ; and as Dick levelled his bow , he felt a kind of pity , and a half desire that he might miss . The quarrel sped . The man stumbled and fell , and a great cheer arose from Hatch and the pursuers . But they were counting their corn before the harvest . The man fell lightly ; he was lightly afoot again , turned and waved his cap in a bravado , and was out of sight next moment in the margin of the wood . `` And the plague go with him ! '' cried Bennet . `` He has thieves ' heels ; he can run , by St Banbury ! But you touched him , Master Shelton ; he has stolen your quarrel , may he never have good I grudge him less ! '' `` Nay , but what made he by the church ? '' asked Sir Oliver . `` I am shrewdly afeared there has been mischief here . Clipsby , good fellow , get ye down from your horse , and search thoroughly among the yews . ''
XXXXX was gone but a little while ere he returned carrying a paper .
Banbury Bennet Clipsby Dick Hatch Shelton crossbow greyness night yews