"Who hath served thee in so shameful a fashion ?" "It is easy to see, friend, that you were born far from the marches of Scotland," quoth the stranger, with a bitter smile.

"North of Humber there is no man who would not know the handiwork of Devil Douglas, the black Lord James." "And how fell you into his hands ?" asked John.
"I am a man of the north country, from the town of Beverley and the wapentake of Holderness," he answered.

"There was a day when, from Trent to Tweed, there was no better marksman than Robin Heathcot.

Yet, as you see, he hath left me, as he hath left many another poor border archer, with no grip for bill or bow.

Yet the king hath given me a living here in the southlands, and please God these two lads of mine will pay off a debt that hath been owing over long.