Anne of Geierstein: or, The Maiden of the Mist. Volume 1 of 2. Walter Scott

was about to inquire further, but was interrupted by a loud cry of surprise and astonishment from without.

      "I must out," said Biederman, "and see what these wild lads are doing. It is not now as formerly in this land, when the young dared not judge for themselves, till the old man's voice had been heard."

      He went forth from the lodge, followed by his guest. The company who had witnessed the games were all talking, shouting, and disputing in the same breath; while Arthur Philipson stood a little apart from the rest, leaning on the unbent bow with apparent indifference. At the sight of the Landamman all were silent.

      "What means this unwonted clamour?" he said, raising a voice to which all were accustomed to listen with reverence. – "Rudiger," addressing the eldest of his sons, "has the young stranger bent the bow?"

      "He has, father," said Rudiger; "and he has hit the mark. Three such shots were never shot by William Tell."

      "It was chance – pure chance," said the young Swiss from Berne. "No human skill could have done it, much less a puny lad, baffled in all besides that he attempted among us."

      "But what has been done?" said the Landamman. – "Nay, speak not all at once! – Anne of Geierstein, thou hast more sense and breeding than these boys – tell me how the game has gone."

      The maiden seemed a little confused at this appeal, but answered with a composed and downcast look —

      "The mark was, as usual, a pigeon to a pole. All the young men, except the stranger, had practised at it with the cross-bow and long-bow, without hitting it. When I brought out the bow of Buttisholz, I offered it first to my kinsmen. None would accept of it, saying, respected uncle, that a task too great for you must be far too difficult for them."

      "They said well," answered Arnold Biederman; "and the stranger, did he string the bow?"

      "He did, my uncle, but first he wrote something on a piece of paper, and placed it in my hands."

      "And did he shoot and hit the mark?" continued the surprised Switzer.

      "He first," said the maiden, "removed the pole a hundred yards farther than the post where it stood."

      "Singular!" said the Landamman, "that is double the usual distance."

      "He then drew the bow," continued the maiden, "and shot off, one after another, with incredible rapidity, the three arrows which he had stuck into his belt. The first cleft the pole, the second cut the string, the third killed the poor bird as it rose into the air."

      "By St. Mary of Einsiedlen," said the old man, looking up in amaze, "if your eyes really saw this, they saw such archery as was never before witnessed in the Forest States!"

      "I say nay to that, my revered kinsman," replied Rudolph Donnerhugel, whose vexation was apparent; "it was mere chance, if not illusion or witchery."

      "What say'st thou of it thyself, Arthur," said his father, half smiling. "Was thy success by chance or skill?"

      "My father," said the young man, "I need not tell you that I have done but an ordinary feat for an English bowman. Nor do I speak to gratify that misproud and ignorant young man. But to our worthy host and his family, I make answer. This youth charges me with having deluded men's eyes, or hit the mark by chance. For illusion, yonder is the pierced pole, the severed string, and the slain bird, they will endure sight and handling; and, besides, if that fair maiden will open the note which I put into her hand, she will find evidence to assure you, that even before I drew the bow, I had fixed upon the three marks which I designed to aim at."

      "Produce the scroll, good niece," said her uncle, "and end the controversy."

      "Nay, under your favour, my worthy host," said Arthur, "it is but some foolish rhymes addressed to the maiden's own eye."

      "And under your favour, sir," said the Landamman, "whatsoever is fit for my niece's eyes may greet my ears."

      He took the scroll from the maiden, who blushed deeply when she resigned it. The character in which it was written was so fine that the Landamman in surprise exclaimed, "No clerk of St. Gall could have written more fairly. – Strange," he again repeated, "that a hand which could draw so true a bow, should have the cunning to form characters so fair." He then exclaimed anew, "Ha! verses, by Our Lady! What, have we minstrels disguised as traders?" He then opened the scroll, and read the following lines: —

      If I hit mast, and line, and bird,