 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The day's reading by Alex Foster, www.alexfoster.me.uk The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood By Hallad Pyle Preface From the author to the reader You who so plod amid serious things that you feel it's shame to give yourself up even for a few short moments to mirth and joyousness in the land of fancy. You who think that life hath nought to do with innocent laughter that can harm no one. These pages are not for you. Clap to the leaves and go no farther than this, for I tell you plainly that if you go farther you will be scandalised by seeing good, sober folks of real history so frisk and caper in gay colours and motley that you would not know them but for the names tagged to them. Here is a stout, lusty fellow with a quick temper, yet none so ill for all that, who goes by the name of Henry II. Here is a fair, gentle lady, before whom all others bow and call her Queen Eleanor. Here is a fat rogue of a fellow, dressed up in rich robes of a clerical kind that all the good folk call My Lord Bishop of Hereford. Here is a certain fellow with a sour temper and a grim look, the worshipful the sheriff of Nottingham. And here above all is a great tall merry fellow that roams the Greenwood and joins in homely sports and sits beside the sheriff at Merry Feast, which same beareth the name of the proudest of the Plantagenets, Richard of the Lion's Heart. Beside these are a whole host of knights, priests, nobles, burgers, yeoman, pages, ladies, lassies, landlords, beggars, peddlers and whatnot, all living the merriest of merry lives and all bound by nothing but a few odd strands of certain old ballads, snipped and clipped and tied together again in a score of knots, which draw these jockened fellows here and there, singing as they go. Here you will find a hundred dulls, sober, jogging places, all tricked out with flowers and whatnot, till no one would know them in their fanciful dress. And here is a country bearing a well-known name, wherein no chill mists press upon our spirits, and no rain falls but what rolls off our backs like April showers off the backs of sleek drakes, where flowers bloom forever and birds are always singing, where every fellow hath a merry catch as he travels the roads and ale and beer and wine, such as muddle no wits, flow like water in a brook. This country is not fairyland. What is it? It is the land of fancy, and is of that pleasant kind that, when you tire of it, whisk, you clap the leaves of this book together and is gone, and you are ready for everyday life with no harm done. And now I lift a curtain that hangs between here and no man's land. Will you come with me, sweet reader? I thank you. Give me your hand. End of Preface Prologue Giving an account of Robin Hood and his adventure with the King's foresters, also telling how his band gathered around him and of the merry adventure that gained him his good right-hand man, the famous little John. Chapter One How Robin Hood Came to Be an Outlaw In merry England in the time of old, when good King Henry II ruled the land, there lived within the green glades of Sherwood Forest near Nottingham Town, a famous outlaw whose name was Robin Hood. No archer ever lived that could speed a grey goose-shaft with such skill and cunning as his, nor were there ever such yeoman as the seven-score merry men that roamed with him through the greenwood shades. Right merrily they dwelled within the depths of Sherwood Forest, suffering neither care nor want, but passing the time in merry games of archery or bouts of cudgel play, living upon the King's venison, washed down with draughts of ale of October brewing. Not only Robin himself, but all the band were outlaws and dwelled apart from other men, yet they were beloved by the country people round about, for no one ever came to jolly Robin for help in time of need and went away again with an empty fist. And now I will tell you how it came about that Robin Hood fell afoul of the law. When Robin was a youth of eighteen, stout of sinew and bold of heart, the sheriff of Nottingham proclaimed a shooting-match and offered a prize of a butt of ale to whosoever should shoot the best shaft in Nottinghamshire. Now, quoth Robin, will I go too, for feign would I draw a string for the bright eyes of my lass and a butt of good October brewing. So up he got and took his good stout yubo and a score or more of broad cloth-yard arrows and started off from Loxley Town through Sherwood Forest to Nottingham. It was the dawn of the day in merry maytime when hedgerows are green and flowers bedeck the meadows, daisies pied and yellow cuckoo buds and fair primrose all along the briary hedges. When apple buds blossom and sweet birds sing, the lark at dawn of day, the throttle cock and cuckoo, when lads and lassies look upon each other with sweet thoughts, when busy housewives spread their linen into bleach upon the bright green grass. Sweet was the greenwood as he walked along its paths, and bright the green and rustling leaves amid which the little birds sang with their might and mane, and blithely Robin whistled as he trudged along, thinking of maid Marian and her bright eyes, for at such times her youth's thoughts are wont to turn pleasantly upon the lass he loves the best. As thus he walked along with a brisk step and a merry whistle, he came suddenly upon some foresters seated beneath a great oak tree. Fifteen there were in all, making themselves merry with feasting and drinking as they sat around a huge pasty, to which each man helped himself, thrusting his hands into the pie and washing down that which they ate with great horns of ale, which they drew all foaming from a barrel that stood nigh. Each man was clad in Lincoln green, and a fine show they made seated upon the sword beneath that fair-spreading tree. Then one of them, with his mouth full, called out to Robin, Helloa, where goest thou, little lad, with thy one penny bow and thy farthing shafts? Then Robin grew angry, for no stripling likes to be taunted with his green years. Now, Kwathi, my bow and eek mine arrows are as good as shine, and moreover, I go to the shooting-match at Nottingham Town, which same as been proclaimed by our good sheriff of Nottinghamshire. There I will shoot with other stout yeoman, for a prize has been offered of a fine butt of ale. Then one who held a horn of ale in his hand said, Oh, listen to the lad, why boy, thy mother's milk is yet scarce dry upon thy lips, and yet thou, praetist of standing up with good stout men at Nottingham Butts, thou who art scarce able to draw one string of a two-stone bow. I'll hold the best of you twenty marks, Kwath bold Robin, that I hid the clout at three score rods by the good help of our lady fair. At this all laughed aloud, and one said, Well boasted thou fair infant, well boasted, and well thou knowest that no target is nigh to make good thy wager. And another cried, He will be taking ale with his milk next. At this Robin grew right mad. Hark ye, said he, yonder at the glade's end, I see a herd of deer, even more than three score rods distant. I'll hold you twenty marks, that by leave of our lady I cause the best heart among them to die. Now done, cried he who had spoken first, and here are twenty marks. I waited that thou causest no beast to die with or without the aid of our lady. Then Robin took his good yew bow in his hand, and placing the tip at his instep, he strung it right deftly. Then he knocked a broad clothyard arrow, and raising the bow drew the grey goose feather to his ear. The next moment the bowstring rang, and the arrow sped down the glade as a sparrow hawk skims in a northern wind. High leaped the noblest heart of all, only to fall dead, reddening the green path with his heart's blood. Ha! cried Robin, how likeest thou that shot, good fellow! I pot the wager were mine, and it were three hundred pounds. Then all the foresters were filled with rage, and he who had spoken the first and had lost the wager was more angry than all. Nay, cried he, the wager is none of thine, and get thee gone straight away, or by all the saints of heaven I'll baste thy sides, until thou wilt ne'er be able to walk again. Noest thou not, said another, that thou hast killed the king's dear, and by the laws of our gracious lord and sovereign king Harry, thine ears should be shaven close to thy head. Catch him, cried a third. Nay, said a fourth, let him in go because of his tender years. Never a word, said Robin Hood, but he looked at the foresters with a grim face, then turning on his heel, strode away from them down the forest-glade, but his heart was bitterly angry, for his blood was hot and youthful, and prone to boil. Now, well would it have been for him who had first spoken had he left Robin Hood alone, but his anger was hot, both because the youth had gotten the better of him, and because of the deep draughts of ale that he had been quaffing. So, of a sudden, without any warning, he sprang to his feet and seized upon his bow and fitted it to a shaft. I, cried here, and I'll hurry thee anon, and he sent the arrow whistling after Robin. It was well for Robin Hood that that same forester's head was spinning with ale, or else he would never have taken another step. As it was the arrow whistled within three inches of his head, then he turned around and quickly drew his own bow and sent an arrow back in return. Ye said I was no archer, cried he aloud, but say so now again. The shaft flew straight, the archer fell forward with a cry, and lay on his face upon the ground, his arrows rattling about him from out of his quiver, the grey goose shaft wet with his heart's blood. Then, before the others could gather their wits about them, Robin Hood was gone into the depths of the Greenwood. Some started after him, but not with much heart, for each feared to suffer the death of his fellow. So presently they all came and lifted the dead man up and bore him away to Nottingham town. Meanwhile, Robin Hood ran through the Greenwood. Gone was all the joy and brightness from everything, for his heart was sick within him, and it was borne in upon his soul that he had slain a man. Alas, cried he, thou hast found me an archer that will make thy wife to ring. I would that thou had snare said one word to me, but that I had never passed thy way, or in that my right forefinger had been stricken off ere that this had happened. In haste I smote, but grieve I saw at leisure. And then, even in his trouble, he remembered the old saw that what is done is done, and the egg cracked cannot be cured. And so he came to dwell in the Greenwood that was to be his home for many a year to come, never again to see the happy days with the lads and lasses of sweet loxley town, for he was outlawed, not only because he had killed a man, but also because he had poached upon the king's deer, and two hundred pounds was set upon his head as a reward for whoever would bring him to the court of the king. Now the sheriff of Nottingham swore that he himself would bring this naive Robin Hood to justice, and for two reasons, first because he wanted the two hundred pounds, and next because the forester that Robin Hood had killed was of kin to him. But Robin Hood lay hidden in Sherwood Forest for one year, and in that time they gathered around him many others like himself, cast out from other folk for this cause and for that. Some had shot deer in hungry wintertime when they could get no other food and had been seen in the act by the foresters, but had escaped, thus saving their ears. Some had been turned out of their inheritance, that their farms might be added to the king's land in Sherwood Forest. Some had been despoiled by a great baron or a rich abbot or a powerful squire. All for one cause or another had come to Sherwood to escape wrong and oppression. So in all that year, five score or more good stout yeoman gathered around Robin Hood and chose him to be their leader and chief. Then they vowed that even as they themselves had been despoiled, they would despoil their oppressors, whether baron, abbot, knight or squire, and that from each they would take that which had been wrung from the poor by unjust taxes or land rents or in wrongful fines. But to the poor folk they would give a helping hand in need and trouble and would return to them that which had been unjustly taken from them. Besides this, they swore never to harm a child, not a wronger woman, be she maid, wife or widow, so that after a while, when the people began to find that no harm was meant to them, but that money or food came in time of want to many a poor family, they came to praise Robin and his merry men and to tell many tales of him and of his doings in Sherwood Forest, but they felt him to be one of themselves. Up rose Robin, one merry morn when all the birds were singing blithely among the leaves, and up rose all his merry men, each fellow washing his head and hands in the cold brown brook that leaped laughings from stone to stone. Then said Robin, for fourteen days have we seen no sport, so now I will go abroad to seek adventures forthwith. But tarry ye my merry men all here in the Greenwood, only see that ye mind well my call. Three blasts upon the bugle horn I will blow in my hour of need, then come quickly, for I shall want your aid. So saying, he strode away through the leafy forest glades until he had come to the verge of Sherwood. There he wandered for a long time, through highway and byway, through dingley-dale and forest skirts. Now he met a fair books and lass in a shady lane, and each gave the other a merry word and passed their way. Now he saw a fair lady upon an ambling pad, to whom he doffed his cap, and who bowed sedately and returned to the fair youth. Now he saw a fat monk on a pannier laden ass, now a gallant knight with spear and shield and armour that flashed brightly in the sunlight, now a page clad in crimson, and now a stout burger from Good Nottingham town, pacing along with serious footsteps. All these sights he saw, but adventure found he none. At last he took a road by the forest skirts, a bypass that dipped toward a broad, pebbly stream spanned by a narrow bridge made of a log of wood. As he drew nigh this bridge, he saw a tall stranger coming from the other side. Thereupon Robin quickened his pace, as did the stranger likewise, each thinking to cross first. Now stand thou back, quoth Robin, and let the better man cross first. Nay, answered the stranger, then stand back thine own self, for the better man I wet am I. That we will presently see, quoth Robin, and meanwhile stand thou where thou art, or else by the bright bow of St. Alfreda I shall show thee right Good Nottingham play with a cloth-yard shaft betwixt thy ribs. Now, quoth the stranger, I will tan thy hide be as many colours as thy beggar's cloak if thou darest so much as touch a string of that same bow that thou holdest in thy hands. Thou pratest like an ass, said Robin, for I could send this shaft clean through thy proud heart before a curtled fryer could say grace over a roast goose at Mikkelmastide. And thou pratest like a coward, answered the stranger, for thou standest there, with a good you-bow to shoot at my heart while I have nought in my hand, but a plain black-thorn staff were with to meet thee. Now, quoth Robin, by the faith of my heart, never have I had a coward's name in all my life before. I will lay my trusty bow and eek my arrows, and if thou darest abide my coming, I will go and cut a cudgel to test thy manhood withal. I marry that I will abide thy coming and joyously too, quoth the stranger, whereupon he leans sturdily upon his staff to await Robin. Then Robin Hood stepped quickly to the cover-site and cut a good staff of ground oak straight, without new, and six feet in length, and came back trimming away the tender stems from it while the stranger waited for him, leaning upon his staff, and whistling as he gazed round about. Robin observed him furtively as he trimmed his staff, measuring him from top to toe out of the corner of his eye, and thought that he had never seen a lustier or a stouter man. Tall was Robin, but taller was the stranger by a head and an egg, for he was seven feet in height. Broad was Robin across the shoulders, but broader was the stranger by twice the breadth of a palm, while he measured at least an L around the waist. Nevertheless said Robin to himself, I will baste thy hide right merrily, my good fellow. Then allowed, low, here is my good staff, lusty and tough. Now wait my coming and thou darest, and meet me and thou fierce not. Then we will fight until one or the other of us tumble into the stream by dint of blows. Marry that meeteth my whole heart, cried the stranger, twirling his staff above his head and betwixt his fingers and thumb, until it whistled again. Never did the knights of Arthur's round table meet in a stouter fight than did these two. In a moment Robin stepped quickly upon the bridge where the stranger stood. First he made a faint, then delivered a blow at the stranger's head that, had it met his mark, would have tumbled him speedily into the water. But the stranger turned the blow right deftly, and he'd return gave one a stout, and Robin also turned as the stranger had done. So they stood, each in his place, neither moving a finger's breath back for one good hour, and many blows were given and received by each in that time, till here and there they were sore bones and bumps, yet neither thought of crying enough, nor seemed likely to fall from off the bridge. Now and then they stopped to rest, and each thought that he had never had seen in all his life before such a hand at quarterstuff. At last Robin gave the stranger a blow upon the ribs and made his jacket smoke like a damp straw thatch in the sun. So shrewd was the stroke that the stranger came within a hair's breadth of falling off the bridge, but he regained himself right quickly, and by a dexterous blow gave Robin a crack on the crown that caused the blood to flow. Then Robin grew mad with anger and smote with all his might at the other. But the stranger warded the blow, and once again thwacked Robin, and this time so fairly that he fell heels overhead into the water as the queenpin falls in a game of bowls. And where art thou now, my good lad? shouted the stranger, roaring with laughter. Oh, in the flood and floating her down with the tide, cried Robin, nor could he forbear laughing himself at his sorry plight. Then gaining his feet, he waded to the bank, the little fish speeding hither and dither, all frightened at his splashing. Give me thy hand, cried he, when he had reached the bank. I must need's own thou art a brave and sturdy soul, and with all a good stout stroke with the cudgels. By this and by that my head hummeth like to a hive of bees on a hot June day. Then he clapped his horn to his lips, and winded a blast that went echoing sweetly down the forest paths. I, marry Quoth thee again, thou art a tall lad, an eager brave one, for near I bow as there a man, betwixt here and Canterbury town, could do the like to me that thou has done. And thou, Quoth the stranger, laughing, takest thy cudgeling like a brave heart and a stout yeoman. But now the distant twigs and branches rustle with the coming of men, and suddenly a score or two of good stout yeoman, all clad in link and green, burst from out the covert, with Mary Will's suitly at their head. Good master, cried Will, how is this? Truly thou art all wet from head to foot, and that to the very skin. Why, Mary, answered Jolly Robin, your stout fellow hath tumbled me neck and crop into the water, and hath given me a drubbing beside. Then shall he not go without ducking and eager drubbing himself? cried Will's suitly. Have at him, lads. Then Will and a score of yeoman leaped upon the stranger. But though they sprang quickly, they found him ready, and felt him strike right and left with his stout staff, so that, though he went down with press of numbers, some of them rubbed cracked crowns before he was overcome. Nay, forbear! cried Robin, laughing, until his sore sides ached again. Nay, forbear! cried Robin, laughing, until his sore sides ached again. He is a right good man untrue, and no harm shall befall him. Now, Hark ye good youth, wilt thou stay with me and be one of my band? Three suits of Lincoln Green shall thou have each year, besides forty marks in fee, and share with us whatsoever good shall befall us. Thou shalt eat sweet venison and quaff the stoutest ale, and mine own good right hand man shall thou be. For never did I see such a cudgel player in all my life before. Speak! Will thou be one of my good merry men? That, though I not, quaff the strangers certainly, for he was angry at being so tumbled about. If ye handle you, Bo, and Appleshaft, no better than ye do, oak and cudgel, I watch ye are not fit to be called yeoman in my country. But if there be any man here that can shoot a better shaft than I, then will I be think me of joining with you. Now, by my faith, said Robin, thou art a right saucy violet, Serah, yet I will stoop to thee as I have never stooped to man before. Good stootly cut thou a fair white piece of bark four fingers in breadth, and set it four score yards distant on yonder oak. Now, stranger, hit that fairly with a grey goose shaft and call thyself an archer. I marry that, I will answer thee, give me a good stout bow and a fair broad arrow, and if I hit it not, strip me and beat me blue with bow strings. Then he chose the stoutest bow among them all next to Robin's own, and a straight grey goose shaft well feathered and smooth and stepping to the mark, while all the bands sitting or lying upon the greenswood watched to see him shoot. He drew the arrow to his cheek and loosed the shaft right deftly, sending it so straight down the path that it clove the mark in the very centre. Aha! cried he, mend thou that if thou canst, while even the yeoman clapped their hands at so fair a shot. That is a keen shot indeed, quoth Robin, mend it, I cannot, quite I may, perhaps. Then taking up with his own good stout bow and knocking an arrow with care, he shot with his very greatest skill. Straight flew the arrow and so true that it lit fairly upon the stranger's shaft and split it into splinters. Then all the yeoman leapt to their feet and shouted for joy that their master had shot so well. Now, by the lusty you-bow of good saint withled, cried the stranger, that is a shot indeed, and never saw either like in all my life before. Now truly, will I be thy man henceforth and foray? Good Adam Bell was a fair shot, but never shot he so. Then have I gained a right good man this day, quoth Jolly Robin. What name goest thou by, good fellow? Men call me John Little whence I came, answered the stranger. Then Will Stutley, who loved a good jest, spoke up. Nay, fair little stranger, said he, I like not thy name and feign would I have it otherwise. Little art thou indeed, and small of bone and sine you, therefore shalt thou be christened little John, and I will be thy godfather. Then Robin Hood and all his band laughed aloud until the stranger began to grow angry, and thou make a jest of me, quoth Eta Will Stutley, thou wilt have sore bones at little pay, and that in short season. Nay, good friends, said Robin Hood, bottled thine anger for the name fitith thee well, little John shall thou be called henceforth, and little John shall it be. So come, my merry men, we will prepare a christening feast for this fair infant. So turning their backs upon the stream, they plunged into the forest once more, through which they traced their steps till they reached the spot where they dwelled in the depths of the woodland. There they built huts of bark and branches of trees, and made couches of sweet rushes spread over with skins of fallow deer. Here stood a great oak tree with branches spreading broadly around, beneath which was a seat of green moss where Robin Hood was wont to sit at feast and at merry-making with his stout men about him. Here they found the rest of the band, some of whom had come in with a brace of fat doughs. Then they all built great fires, and after a time roasted the doughs and broached a barrel of humming ale. Then when the feast was ready they all sat down, but Robin placed little John at his right hand, for he was henceforth to be the second of the band. Then when the feast was done, Will Stutley spoke up. It is now time, I wean, to christen our bonny babe, is it not so, merry boys? And I, I cried all laughing till the woods echoed with their mouth. Then seven sponsors shall we have, Quoth Will Stutley, and hunting among the band, he chose the seven stoutest men of them all. Now, by St. Dunstan, cried little John, springing to his feet, more than one of you shall rue it and you lay a finger on me. But without a word they all ran upon him at once, seizing him by his legs and arms and holding him tightly in spite of his struggles. They bore him forth while all stood around to see the sport. Then one came forward who had been chosen to play the priest, because he had a belled crown, and in his hand he carried a brimming pot of ale. Now, who bringeth this babe? asked he right soberly. That do I, answered Will Stutley. And what name callest thou him? Little John call I him. Now, little John quoth the mock priest, thou hast not lived here too far, but only get thee along through the world, but henceforth thou wilt live indeed. When thou lids not, thou wast called John little, but now that thou dost live indeed, little John shall thou be called, so christen I thee. And at these words he emptied the pot of ale upon little John's head. Then all shouted with laughter as they saw the good brown ale stream over little John's beard and trickle from his nose and chin, while his eyes blinked with the smart of it. At first he was of a mind to be angry, but found he could not, because the others were so merry. So he too laughed with the rest. Then Robin took his sweet pretty babe, clothed him all anew from toe to toe in Lincoln Green, and gave him a good stout bow, and so made him a member of the merry band. And thus it was that Robin Hood became outlawed, thus a band of merry companions gathered about him, and thus he gained his right hand man little John, and so the prologue ends. And now I will tell how the sheriff of Nottingham three times sought to take Robin Hood, and how he failed each time. End of chapter one. Recorded in Nottingham by Alex Foster. On the 18th of June 2006. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle. Part first telling how the sheriff of Nottingham swore that he would deal dull to Robin Hood. Also how he made three trials there at, but missed each time by a good bow's length. Chapter two. Robin Hood and the Tinker. Now it was told before how two hundred pounds were set upon Robin Hood's head, and how the sheriff of Nottingham swore that he himself would seize Robin, both because he would feign have the two hundred pounds, and because the slain man was a kinsman of his own. Now the sheriff did not yet know what a force Robin had about him in Sherwood, but thought that he might serve a warrant for his arrest as he could upon any other man that had broken the laws. Therefore he offered four score golden angels to anyone who would serve this warrant. But many in Nottingham town knew more of Robin Hood and his doings than the sheriff did, and many laughed to think of serving a warrant upon the bold outlaw, knowing well that all they would get for such service would be cracked crowns, so that no one came forward to take the matter in hand. Thus a fortnight passed in which time none came forward to do the sheriff's business. Then said he, A right good reward have I offered to whosoever would serve my warrant upon Robin Hood, and I marvel that no one has come to undertake the task. Then one of his men, who was near him, said, Good master, thou wattest not the force that Robin Hood has about him, and how little he cares for warrant of king or sheriff. Truly no one likes to go on this service for fear of cracked crowns and broken bones. Then I hold all Nottingham men to be cowards, said the sheriff, and let me see the man in all Nottingham sure that dare disobey the warrant of our sovereign lord King Harry, for by the shrine of St. Edmund I will hang him forty cubits high. But if no man in Nottingham dare win four score angels, I will send elsewhere, for there should be men of metal somewhere in this land. Then he called upon a messenger in whom he placed great trust, and bade him saddle his horse and make ready to go to Lincoln town to see whether he could find anyone there who would do his bidding and win the reward. So that same morning the messenger started forth upon his errand. Bright shone the sun upon the dusty highway that led from Nottingham to Lincoln, stretching away all white over hill and dale. Dusty was the highway, and dusty the throat of the messenger, so that his heart was glad when he saw before him the sign of the blue-bore inn, when somewhat more than half his journey was done. The inn looked fair to his eyes, and the shade of the oak trees that stood around it seemed cool and pleasant, so he alighted from his horse to rest himself for a time, calling for a pot of ale to refresh his thirsty throat. Then he saw a party of right jovial fellows seated beneath the spreading oak that shaded the greensward in front of the door. There was a tinker, two barefoot friars, and a party of six of the king's foresters all clad in Lincoln green, and all of them were quaffing humming ale and singing merry ballads of the good old times. Loud laughed the foresters as jests were banded about between the singing, and louder laughed the friars for they were lusty men with beards that curled like the wool of black rams. But loudest of all laughed the tinker, and he sang more sweetly than any of the rest. His bag and his hammer hung upon a twig of the oak tree, and nearby leaned his good-stout cudgel as thick as his wrist and knotted at the end. Come, cried one of the foresters to the tired messenger, come join us for this shot. Oh, landlord, bring a fresh pot of ale for each man. The messenger was glad enough to sit down along with the others who were there, for his limbs were weary, and the ale was good. Now, what news bearest thou so fast? Quote one, and wither ridest thou to-day. The messenger was a chatty soul and loved a bit of gossip dearly. Besides, the pot of ale warmed his heart, so that, settling himself in an easy corner of the in-bench, while the host leaned upon the doorway, and the hostess stood with her hands beneath her apron, he unfolded his budget of news with great comfort. He told all from the very first, how Robin Hood had slain the forester, and how he had ridden in the greenwood to escape the law, how that he lived therein, all against the law, God-what, slaying his majesty's dear and leveeing toll to abut night and disquire, so that none dare travel even on broad Wattling Street, or the Foss Way, for fear of him. How that the sheriff had a mind to serve the king's warrant upon this same rogue, though little would he mind warrant of either king or sheriff, for he was far from being a law-abiding man. Then he told how none could be found in all Nottingham town to serve this warrant for fear of cracked pates and broken bones, and how that he, the messenger, was now upon his way to Lincoln town to find of what metal the Lincoln men might be. Now, come I forsooth from Good Bambry town, said the jolly tinker, and no one nigh Nottingham, nor Sherwood either, and that be the mark, can hold codgel with my grip? Why, lads, did I not meet that mad wag Simon of Ealy, even at the famous fair at Hartford town, and beat him in the ring at the same place before Sir Robert of Leslie and his lady? This same Robin Hood of whom I, what I never heard before, is a right merry blade, but gin he be strong, am I stronger, and gin he be sly, am I not slyer, now by the bright eyes and nan of the mill, and by my no name, and that's what of the crab-staff, and by my no mother's son, and that's myself, will I, even I, what of the crab-staff, meet this same sturdy rogue, and gin he may not the seal of our glorious sovereign King Harry, and the warrant of the good sheriff of Nottinghamshire, I will so bruise, beat, and be maul his pate, that he shall never move finger or toe again, hear ye that, bully-boys? Now art thou the man of my father, cried the messenger, and back thou goest with me to Nottingham town? Nay, quote the tinker, shaking his head slowly from side to side, go I with no man, gin it be not with mine own free will. Nay, nay, said the messenger, no man is there in Nottinghamshire could make thee go against thy will, thou brave fellow? Aye, that be I brave, said the tinker. Aye, marry, said the messenger, thou art a brave lad, but our good sheriff hath offered four score angels of bright gold to whosoever shall serve the warrant upon Robin Hood, though little good will it do. Then I will go with thee, lad, do but wait till I get my bag and hammer and my cudgel. Aye, let me but meet this same Robin Hood, and let me see whether he will not mind the king's warrant. So, after having paid their score, the messenger, with the tinker striding beside his nag, started back to Nottingham again. One bright morning, soon after this time, Robin Hood started off to Nottingham town to find what was at doing there, walking merrily along the roadside where the grass was sweet with daisies, his eyes wandering and his thoughts also. His bugle-horn hung at his hip and his bow and arrows at his back, while in his hand he bore a good stout oaken staff which he twirled with his fingers as he strolled along. As thus he walked down a shady lane, he saw a tinker coming, trolling a merry song as he drew nigh. On his back hung his bag and his hammer, and in his hand he carried a right stout crab-star full six feet long, and thus sang he. In peace cod time when hound to horn gives ear till buck be killed and little lads with pipes of corn sit keeping beasts afield. Hello, good friend! cried Robin. I went to gather stirrawberries. Hello! cried Robin again by words of graceful fare. Yo, hello! Art thou deaf man? And who art thou thus so boldly check a fair song? Quote the tinker, stopping in his singing. Hello, thine own self, whether thou be good friend or no. But let me tell thee, thou stout fellow, ginn thou be a good friend, it were well for us both. But ginn thou be no good friend, it were ill for thee. And whence comest thou my lusty blade? Quote Robin. I come from Bambry, answered the tinker. Alas! Quote Robin, I hear bad news this merry morn. Ha! is it indeed so? cried the tinker eagerly. Prithee tell it speedily, for I am a tinker by trade as thou seest, and as I am in my trade I am greedy for news, even as a priest is greedy for farthings. Well then, quote Robin, lest thou and I will tell, but bear thyself up bravely for the news is sad I what. Thus it is, I hear that two tinkers are in the stocks drinking ale and beer. Now a moraine seize thee and thy news, thou scurvy dog, for thou speakest but ill of good men, but sad news it is indeed, ginn there be two stout fellows in the stocks. Nay, said Robin, thou hast missed the mark, and dost but weep for the wrong sow, the sadness of the news lieth in that there be but two in the stocks, for the others do roam the country at large. Now by the pewter platter of St. Dunstan, cried the tinker, I have a good part of a mind to base thy hide for thine ill jest, but ginn men be put in the stocks for drinking ale and beer, I trow thou woods not lose thy part. Loud laughed Robin and cried, now well taken, tinker well taken, why, thy wits are like beer, and do froth up most when they grow sour, but write art thou man, for I love ale and beer right well, therefore come straight away with me hard by the sign of the blue boar, and if thou drinkest as thou appearest and I watch thou wilt not be lie thy looks, I will drench my throat with as good home brood as ever was tapped in all broad nottingham-shore. Now by my faith, said the tinker, thou art a right good fellow in spite of thy scurvy jests, I love thee, my sweet chuck, and ginn I go not with thee to that same blue boar thou mayst call me a heathen. Tell me thy news, good friend, I pretty, quote Robin, as they trudged along together, for tinkers I wean are as full of news as an egg of meat. Now I love thee as my brother, my bully-blade, said the tinker, else I would not tell thee my news, for sly am I man, and I have in hand a grave undertaking that doth call for all my wits, for I come to seek a bold outlaw that men hereabouts call Robin Hood. Within my pouch I have a warrant all fairly written out on parchment foresooth, with a good red seal for to make it lawful. Could I but meet this same Robin Hood I would serve it upon his dainty body, and if he minded it not I would beat him till every one of his ribs would cry our men. But thou livest hear abouts may have thou noest Robin Hood thyself, good fellow. I marry that I do somewhat, quote Robin, but I have seen him this very mourn. But tinker, men say that he is but a sad sly thief. Thou hadst better watch thy warrant man, or else he may steal it out of thy very pouch. Let him but try, cried the tinker. Sly may he be, but sly am I too. I would I had him here now man to man, and he made his heavy coddle to spin again. But what manner of man is he, lad? Like myself," said Robin, laughing, and in height and build and age neither same, and he hath blue eyes too. Nay, quote the tinker thou art, but a green youth. I thought him to be a great bearded man, notting a men feared him so. Truly he is not so old, nor so stout as thou art, said Robin, but men do call him a right deft hand at quarter-staff. That may be," said the tinker, but I am more deft than he, for did I not overcome Simon of Ely in a fair bout in the ring at Hartford town? But if thou knowest him, my jolly blade, wilt thou go with me and bring me to him? For score bright angels hath the sheriff promise me if I serve the warrant upon the nave's body, and ten of them will I give to thee if thou showest me him. I, that I will," quote Robin, but show me thy warrant, man, until I see thou be good or no. That will I not do even to my own brother," answered the tinker. No man shall see my warrant till I serve it upon yon fellow's own body. So be it," quote Robin, and thou show it not to me, I know not to whom thou wilt show it, but here we are at the sign of the blue boar, so let us in and taste his brown October. No sweeter in could be found in all of Nottinghamshire that of the blue boar. None had such lovely trees standing round, or were so covered with trailing clematis and sweet woodbine. None had such good beer and such humming ale, nor in wintertime when the north wind howled and snow drifted round the hedges was there to be found elsewhere such a roaring fire as blazed upon the hearth of the blue boar. At such times might be found a goodly company of yeoman, or country folk seated around the blazing hearth, bandy merry jests while roasted crab-apples bobbed in bowls of ale upon the hearthstone. Well known was the inn to Robin Hood and his band, for there had he and such merry companions as Little John, or Will Stootley, or young David of Doncaster, often gathered when all the forest was filled with snow. As for my host he knew how to keep a still tongue in his head, and to swallow his words before they passed his teeth, for he knew very well which side of his bread was spread with butter, for Robin and his band were the best of customers and paid their scores without having them chalked up behind the door. So now when Robin Hood and the tinker came there too and called aloud for two great pots of ale, none would have known from look or speech that the host had ever set eyes upon the outlaw By the hear, quote Robin to the tinker, while I go and see that my host draweth ale from the right but, for he hath good October I know, and that brood by with old of Tamworth. So saying he went within and whispered to the host to add a measure of Flemish strong waters to the good English ale, which the latter did, and brought it to them. By our lady, said the tinker, after a strong draft of the ale, you're on same bit old of Tamworth, a right good Saxon name too, I'd have you know, breweth the most humming ale that ever passed the lips of what of the crab staff. Drink, man, drink, cried Robin, only wetting his own lips meanwhile. Oh, landlord, bring my friend another pot of the same, and now for a song my jolly blade. Aye, that will I give thee a song my jolly fellow, quote the tinker, for I never tasted such ale in all my days before. By our lady it doth make my head hum even now. Hey, dame hostess, come listen, and thou wouldst hear a song, and thou too, thou bonnie lass, for never do I sing as well as when bright eyes do look upon me the while. Then he sang an ancient ballad of the time of Good King Arthur, called The Marriage of Sir Gawain, which you may sometime read yourself in stout English of early times. And as he sang, all listened to that noble tale of noble knight and his sacrifice to his king. But long before the tinker came to the last verse his tongue began to trip and his head to spin because of the strong waters mixed with the ale. First his tongue tripped, then it grew thick of sound, then his head wagged from side to side until at last he fell asleep as though he would never awaken again. Then Robin laughed aloud and quickly took the warrant from out to tinker's pouch with his deft fingers. Sly art thou, tinker, quote he, but not yet, I bow, art thou as sly as that same sly thief Robin Hood. Then he called the host to him and said, Here, good man, are ten broad shillings for the entertainment thou hast given us this thou takeest good care of thy fair guest there, and when he wakes thou mayest again charge him ten shillings also, and if he hath it not thou mayest take his bag and hammer and even his coat in payment. Thus do I punish those that come into the Greenwood to deal dull to me. As for thine own self never knew I a landlord yet that would not charge twice and he could. At this the host smiled slyly as though saying to himself the rustic saw teach a magpie to suck eggs. The tinker slept until the afternoon drew to a close and the first shadows grew long beside the woodland edge. Then he awoke. First he looked up, then he looked down, then he looked east, and then he looked west, for he was gathering his wits together like barley straws blown apart by the wind. First he thought of his merry companion, then he was gone. Then he thought of his stout crab-staff and that he had within his hand. Then of his warrant and of the four-score angels he was to gain for serving it upon Robin Hood. He thrust his hand into his pouch, but not a scrap nor a farthing was there. Then he sprined to his feet in a rage. Oh, landlord! cried he, whither has that nave gone that was with me but now? What nave meaneth your worship? Lord, calling the tinker worship to soothe him, as a man would pour oil upon angry water. I saw no nave with your worship, for I swear no man would dare call that man nave so night assure would forest. A right stout yeoman I saw with your worship, but I thought that your worship knew him, for few there be about here that pass him by and know him not. Now how should I that ne'er have squealed in your sty know all the swine therein? Who was he then, and thou knowest him so well? Why, yon same is a right stout fellow whom men hereabouts do call Robin Hood, which same now by a lady cried the tinker hastily in a deep voice like an angry bull, thou did see me come into thine inn. I, a staunch on his craftsman, and never told me who my company was while knowing thine own self who he was. Now I have a right round piece of mine to crack thy knaves paid for thee. Then he took up his codgel and looked at the landlord as though he would smite him where he stood. Nay, cried the host throwing up his elbow, for he feared the blow. How knew I thou newest him not? Well and truly thankful mayest thou be, quote the tinker, that I be a patient man, and so do spare thy bald crown, else wouldst thou ne'er cheap customer again. But as for this same nave Robin Hood I go straightway to seek him, and if I do not score his nave's pate, cut my staff into faggots and call me woman. So saying, he gathered himself together to depart. Nay, quote the landlord, drawing in front of him and holding out his arms like a goose-herd driving his flock, for money made him bold. Thou ghost not till thou hast paid me my score. But did he not pay thee? Not so much as one farthing, and ten good shillings worth of ale have he drunk this day. Nay, I say, thou goest not away without paying me. Else shall our good sheriff know of it. But naught have I to pay thee with good fellow, quote the tinker. Good fellow, not me, said the landlord, good fellow, am I not when it cometh to lose ten shillings? Pay me that thou o'est me in broad money, or else leave thy coat and bag and hammer. Yet I what they are not worth ten shillings, and I shall lose thereby. Nay, and thou stirrest, I have a great dog within, and I will loose him upon thee. Macon, open thou the door and let forth Brian if this fellow stirs one step. Nay, quote the tinker, for by roaming the country he'd learnt what dogs were. Take thou what thou wilt have, and let me depart in peace, and may a moraine go with thee. But, oh, landlord, and I catch your scurvy violet, I swear he shall pay full with usury so, saying, he strode away toward the forest, talking to himself, while the landlord and his worthy dame and Macon stood looking after him, and laughed when he'd fairly gone. Robin and I stripped Yonass of his pack main neatly, quote the landlord. Now it happened about this time that Robin Hood was going through the forest to Fosway to see what was to be seen there, for the moon was full and the night gave promise of being bright. In his hand he carried his stout oaken staff, and at his side hung his bugle-horn, as thus he walked up a forest path whistling, down another path came the tinker, muttering to himself, and shaking his head like an angry bull, and so, at a sudden bend, they met sharply face to face. Each stood still for a time, and then Robin spoke. Hello, my sweet bird, said he, laughing merrily. How like is thou thy nail? Will not sing to me another song? The tinker said nothing at first, but stood looking at Robin with a grim face. Now, quote he at last, I am right glad I have met thee, and if I do not rattle thy bones within thy hide this day I give thee leave to put thy foot upon my neck. All my heart, cried Mary Robin, rattle my bones, and thou canst. So, saying, he gripped his staff, and threw himself upon his guard. Then the tinker spat upon his hands, and grasping his staff came straight at the other. He struck two or three blows, but soon found that he'd met his match, for Robin warded and parried all of them, and before the tinker thought he gave him a wrap upon the ribs in return. This, Robin laughed aloud, and the tinker grew more angry than ever, and smote again with all his might and main. Again Robin warded two of the strokes, but at the third his staff broke beneath the mighty blows of the tinker. Now, ill tied thee, traitor staff, cried Robin, as it fell from his hands, a foul stick art thou to serve me thus in my hour of need. Now yield thee, quote the tinker, for thou art my captive, but I will beat thy pate to a pudding. To this Robin hood made no answer, but, clapping his horn to his lips, he blew three blasts loud and clear. I, quote the tinker, blow thou mayest, but go thou must with me to Nottingham town, for the sheriff would feign see thee there. Now wilt thou yield thee, or shall I have to break thy pretty head? And I must drink sour ale, I must, quote Robin, but never have I yielded me to man before, and that would wound or mark upon my body, nor when I bethink me will I yield now. Ho, my merry men, come quickly! Then from out of the forest leaped little John, and six stout yeoman clad in Lincoln green. How now, good master, cried little John, what need has thou that thou dost wind thy horn so loudly? There stands a tinker, cried Robin, that would feign take me to Nottingham, there to hang upon the gallows tree. Then shall he himself hang forthwith, cried little John, and he and the others made at the tinker to seize him. Nay, touch him not, said Robin, for a right stout man is he. A metal man is he by trade, and a metaled fellow by nature. Moreover, he doth sing a lovely ballad. Say, good fellow, wilt thou join my merry men all? Three suits of Lincoln green shall thou have a year, besides forty marks in fee. Thou shalt share all with us, and lead a right merry life in the Greenwood. For cares have we not, and misfortune cometh not upon us within the sweet shades of Sherwood, where we shoot the dundee and feed upon venison and sweet oat and cakes, and curds and honey. Wilt thou come with me? Aye, Mary, will I join with you all? Quote the tinker. For I love a merry life, and I love thee, good master, though thou didst thwack my ribs and cheat me into the bargain. Fane am I to own, thou art both a stouter and a sli'er man than I, so I will obey thee, and be thine own true servant. So all turned their steps to the forest depths, where the tinker was to live henceforth. For many a day he sang ballads to the band, until the famous Alan O'Dale joined them, before whose sweet voice all others seemed as harsh as a raven's. But of him we will learn hereafter. End of chapter 2 By Howard Pyle Chapter 3 The Shooting Match at Nottingham Town Then the sheriff was very rough because of this failure to take Jolly Robin, for it came to his ears, as ill news always does, that the people laughed at him and made a jest of his thinking to serve a ward, upon such a one as the bold outlaw. And a man hopes nothing so much as being made a jest of, so he said, Our gracious Lord and Sovereign King himself shall know of this, and how his laws are perverted and despised by this band of rebel outlaws. As beyond traitor tinker, him will I hang, if I catching, upon the highest gallows tree in all Nottinghamshire. Then he bade all his servants and retainers to make ready to go to London Town to see and speak with the king. At this there was bustling at the sheriff's castle and men ran hither and thither upon this business and upon that, while the forged fires of Nottingham glowed red far into the night, like twinkling stars, for all the smiths at the town were busy making or mending armour for the sheriff's troop of escort. For two days this labour lasted, then on the third all was ready for the journey, so forth they started in the bright sunlight from Nottingham Town to Fosway and thence to Wattling Street, and so they journeyed for two days until they saw at last the spires and towers of great London Town, and many folks stopped as they journeyed along and gazed at the show they made riding along the highways swashing armour and gay plumes and trappings. In London King Henry and his fair Queen Eleanor held their court, gay with ladies in silks and satins and velvets and cloth of gold, and also brave knights and gallant courteous. Thither came the sheriff and was shown into the king's presence. A boon, a boon, quoth he, as he knelt around. Now what wouldst thou have? said the king. Let us hear what may be thy desires. O, good my lord and sovereign, spake the sheriff. In Sherwood Forest, in our own good shire of Nottingham, liveth a bold outlaw whose name is Robin Hood. In good sooth, said the king, his doings have reg'd even our own royallies. He is a saucy, rebellious I am feigned to own a right merry soul with all. But Harpen, o my most gracious sovereign, said the sheriff, I sent a warrant to him with thine own royal seal attached by a right lusty nape. But he beat the messenger and stole the warrant, and he killeth thy dear and robeth thine own leech subjects even upon the great highways. Why, how now? quoth the king wrathfully. What wouldest thou have me do? Commest thou not to me with a great array of men at arms and retainers? And yet art not able to take a single band of lusty nape without armour on breast in thine own county? What wouldest thou have me do? Art thou not my sheriff? Are not my laws enforced in Nottingham shire? Canst thou not take thine own course against those that break the laws of any injury to thine or thine? Go, get thee gone and think well, devise some plan of thine own, but trouble me no further. But look well to it, master sheriff, for I will have my laws obeyed by all men within my kingdom. And if thou art not able to enforce them, thou art no sheriff of me. So look well to thyself, I say. All real may befall thee as well, as all the thieving naives in Nottingham shire. When the flood cometh it sweepeth away grain as well as chuck. Then the sheriff turned away with a sore and troubled heart, and sadly he rude his fine show of retainers, that he saw that the king was angry because he had so many men about him, and yet could not enforce the laws. So, as they all rode slowly back to Nottingham, the sheriff was thoughtful and full of care. Not a word did he speak to anyone, and no one of his men spoke to him. But all the time he was busy devising some plan to take Robin Hood. Aha! cried he suddenly, smitting his hand upon his slide. I have it now. Write on, my merry men all, and let us get back to Nottingham as speedily as we may. And mark well my words before a fortnight has passed that evil naive, Robin Hood, will be safely clapped into Nottingham jail. But what was the sheriff's plan? As a user takes each one of a bag of silver angels, filling each coin to find whether it be clipped or not, so the sheriff, as all rode slowly and sadly back toward Nottingham, took up thought after thought in turn, filling around the edges of each, the finding in everyone some floor. At last he thought of the daring soul of Jolly Robin and how. As he, the sheriff, knew, he often came even within the walls of Nottingham. Now, thought the sheriff, could I but persuade Robin and I to Nottingham town, so that I could find him. I worried I would lay hands upon him so stoutly that he would never get away again. Then of a sudden it came to him like a flash that were he to proclaim a great shooting match and offer some grand prize. Robin Hood might be over persuaded by his spirit to come to the buts. And it was this thought which caused him to cry, aha, and smite his palm upon his thigh. So, as soon as he had returned safely to Nottingham he sent messages north and south and east and west to proclaim through town, hamlet and countryside this grand shooting match and everyone was bitten that could draw a long bow and the prize was to be an arrow of pure beaten gold. When Robin Hood first heard the news of this he was in Lincoln Town and hastened back to Sherwood Forest he soon called all his merry men about him and spoke to them thus. Now hearken, my merry men all to the news that I have brought from Lincoln Town today. Our friend the sheriff of Nottingham have proclaimed a shooting match and have sent messages to tell of it through all the countryside and the prize is to be a bright golden arrow. Now I feign would have one of us win it both because of the fairness of the prize and because our sweet friend the sheriff have offered it. So, we will take our bows and shafts and go there to shoot for I know right well that merry men will be a-going. What say ye, lads? Then young David of Doncaster spoke up and said, now listen I pray thee, good master unto what I say I have come straight from our friend eat him over blue ball and there I heard the full news of this same match but master I know from him and he got it from the sheriff's man Ralph O. the Scar that this same navy sheriff have but laid a trap for thee in this shooting match and wishes nothing so much there. So go not, good master for I know right well he does seek to beguile thee but stay within the green wood list we all meet dull and moan. Now, quoth Robin thou art a wise lad and keepest, thine ears open and thy mouth shut and become a wise and crafty woodsman but shall we let it be said that the sheriff of Nottingham did cow bowl Robin Hood and seven score as fair archers as Arryn or Mary England no, good David what thou tellest me maketh me to desire the prize even more than I else should do but what sayeth our good gossip swan-told is it not a hasty man burneth his mouth and the field that keepeth his eyes shut falleth into the pit thus he says therefore we must meet guile with guile now some of you clothe yourselves as kirtle fryers and some as rustic peasants and some as tinkers or as beggars but see that each man taketh a good bow or broad sword in case need should arise as for myself I will shoot for this same golden arrow and should I win it we will hang it to the branches of agwood green wood tree for the joy of all the band how like you the plan my merry men all then good, good cried all the band right heartily a fair sight was Nottingham town on the day of the shooting match all along upon the green meadow beneath the town wall stretched a row of benches one above the other which were for knight and lady and dame and rich burgers and their wives for none but those of rank and quality were to sit there at the end of the range near the target was a raised seat bedecked with ribbons and scarves and garlands of flowers for the sheriff of Nottingham and his dame the range was two score paces broad at one end stood the target at the other a tent of striped canvas from the pole of which flooded many coloured flags and streamers in this booth were casks available for you to be broached by any of the archers who might wish to quench their thirst across the range from where the seats for the better folk were raised was a railing to keep the poorer people from crowding in front of the target already while it was early the benches were beginning to fill with people of quality who kept constantly arriving in little carts or upon pelk rows that coveted gaily to the merry tingle of silver bells of bridal reins with these came also the poorer folk who sat or lay upon the green grass near the railing that kept them from off the range in the great tent the archers were gathering by twos and threes some talking loudly as the fair shots each man had made in his day some looking well to their bows drawing a string betwixt the fingers to see that there was no prey upon it or inspecting arrows shutting one eye and peering down a shaft to see that it was not walked but straight and true for neither bone nor shaft should fail at such a time at such a prize and never was such a company of yeoman as were gathered at knockingham town that day for the very best archers of merry england had come to this shooting match there was gill over red cap the sheriffs own head archer and deacon crook shank of Lincoln town and adam over dell a man of tamworth of three school years and more yet hail and lusty still who in his time had shot in the famous match at woodstock and had there beaten that renowned archer climp Oda clow and many more famous men of the longbow were there whose names had been handed down to us in goodly ballads of the olden time but now all the benches were filled with guests lord and lady, burger and dame when at last the sheriff himself came with his lady he riding with stately men upon his milk white horse and she upon her brown filly upon his head he wore a purple velvet cap and purple velvet was his robe all trimmed about with rich ermine his jerkin and hose were of sea green silk and his shoes of black velvet the pointed toes fastened to his garters with golden chains a golden chain hung about his neck and at his collar was a great carbunkle set in red gold his lady was dressed in blue velvet all trimmed with swans down so they made a glance side as they rode along side by side and all the people shouted from where they crowded across the space from the gentle folk so the sheriff and his lady came to their place where men at arms with huberg and spear stood about waiting for them then when the sheriff and his dame had sat down he bade his herald wind upon his silver horn who there upon sounded three blasts that came echoing cheeringly back from the grey wolves of Nottingham then the archers stepped forth to their places while all the folks shouted with a mighty voice each man calling upon his favourite yeoman red cap cried some creek shank cried others hey, for William O. Leslie shouted others yet again while ladies waved silk and scarves to urge each yeoman to do his best then the herald stood forth and loudly proclaimed the rules of the game as follows shoot each man from yon mark which is seven score yards and ten from the target one arrow shooteth each man first and from all the archers shall the ten that shooteth the fairest shafts be chosen for to shoot again two arrows shooteth each man of these ten then shall the three that shooteth the fairest shafts be chosen for to shoot again three arrows shooteth each man of those three and to him that shooteth the fairest shafts shall the prize be given then the sheriff leaned forward looking keenly among the press of archers to find where the Robin Hood was among them but no one was there clad in Lincoln Green as was worn by Robin and his band nevertheless said the sheriff to himself he may still be there and I miss him among the crowd of other men but let me see when the ten men shoot for I want he will be among the ten or I know him not and now the archers shot each man in turn and the good folk never saw such archery as was done that day six arrows were within the cloud four within the black and only two smot the outer ring so that when the last arrow sped and struck the target all the people shouted aloud for it was noble shooting and now that ten men were left of all those that had shot before and of these ten six were famous throughout the land and most of the folk gathered there knew them these six men were Gilbert over Red Cab Adam over Dell Deacon Crookshake William O. Leslie Hubert O. Cloud and Switham O. Hartford two others were Yeoman of Mary Yorkshire another was a tall stranger in blue who said he came from London Town and the last was a tattered stranger in scarlet who wore a patch over one eye now, quote the sheriff to a man at arms who stood near him says thou a Robin Hood amongst those ten nay that do I not your worship answered the man six of them I know right well of those Yorkshire Yeoman one is too tall and the other too short for that bold nay one's beard is as yellow as gold while your tattered beggar in scarlet have a beard of brown besides being blind of one eye as for the stranger in blue Robin's shoulders I wean are three inches broader than his then quote the sheriff smitting his thigh angrily your name is a coward as well as a rogue and dares not show his face to young good men and true then after they have rested a short time those ten stout men step forth to shoot a game each man shot two arrows and as they shot not a word was spoken but all the crowd watched with scarce a breath of sound but when the last had shot his arrow another great shout arose while many cast their caps to the joy of such marvellous shooting now by our gracious lady fair quote old Saramus O'The Del who bowed with four score years and more sat near the sheriff near saw I such archery in all my life before yet have I seen the best hands at the longbow for three score years and more and now but three men were left of all those that had shot before one was Gil O'The Red Cap one the tattered stranger in Scarlet and one Adam O'The Del of Tamworth town then all the people called aloud some crying Hove for Gilbert O'The Red Cap and some Hove for stout Adam O'Tamworth but not a single man in the crowd called upon the stranger in Scarlet well Gilbert cried the sheriff and if thine be the best shark five score broad silver pennies will I give to thee beside the prize truly I will do my best both Gilbert writes doodly a man cannot do oath but his best but that will I strive to do this day so saying he drew forth a fair smooth arrow with a broad feather and fitted it deathly to the string then drawing his bow with care he sped the shark straight flew the arrow and lit fairly in the cloud a finger's breath from the centre a Gilbert a Gilbert shouted all the crowd and now by my faith cried the sheriff smitting his hands together that is a shrewd shot then the tattered stranger stepped forth as they saw a yellow patch that showed beneath his arm when he raised his elbow to shoot and also to see him aim with but one eye he drew the good dood bow quickly and quickly loosed a shark so short was the time that no man could draw a breath between the drawing and the shooting yet his arrow lodged nearer the centre than the other by twice the length of a barley corn now by all the saints in paradise cried the sheriff that is a lovely shark in very truth then Adam over Dell shot carefully and cautiously and his arrow lodged close beside the strangers then after a short space they all three shot again and once more each arrow lodged within the cloud but this time Adam over Dell was farthest from the centre and again the tattered stranger shot was the best then after another time of rest they all shot for the third time this time Gilbert took great heed to his aim keenly measuring the distance and shooting with shrewd as care straight flew the arrow and all shouted to the very flags that waved in the breeze shook with the sound and the rooks and doors flew clamouring about the roofs at the old grey tower for the shark had lodged close beside the spot that marked the very centre well done Gilbert cried the sheriff right joyously Fane am I to believe the prize is thine and right fairly won now they ragged name let me see they shoot a better shark than that now spake the stranger but took his place well all was hushed and no one spoke or even seemed to breathe so great was the silence for wonder what he would do meanwhile also quite still stood the stranger holding his bow in his hand well one could count fine then he drew his trusty you holding it drawn but a moment then loosed the string straight flew the arrow and so true that it smote a grey goose feather from off Gilbert's shark which fell fluttering through the sunlit air as the strangers arrow lodged close beside his at the red cap and in the very centre no one spoke a word for a while and no one shouted but each man looked into his neighbours face amazingly nay quote Adam over del presently drawing a long breath and shaking his head as he spoke two score years and more have I shot shaft and maybe not all times bad but I shoot no more this day for no man can match with young stranger whosoever he may be then he thrust his shaft into his quiver sparkling and unstrung his bow without another word then the sheriff came down from his dyes and drew near in all his silks and velvets to where the tattered stranger stood leaning upon his stout bow while the good folk crowded around to see the man who shot so wondrously well here good fellow quotes the sheriff take thou the prize and well I'm fairly haste thou won it I bow what may be thy name and whence cometh thou men do call me jock O TV at Dale and thence am I come said the stranger then by our lady jock thou art the fairest archer that ear mine eyes beheld and if thou will join my service I will clothe thee with a better coat thou hast upon my back thou shalt eat and drink of the best and at every Christmas tide poor score marks shall be thy wage I trough thou drawest better bow than that same coward name Robin Hood that dared not show his face here this day say good fellow will they join my service no that will I not quote the stranger roughly I will be mine own and no man in all merry England shall be my master then get thee gone and a Muran sees thee cried the sheriff and his voice trembled with anger and by my faith and truth I have a good part of a mine to have thee beaten for thine insolence then he turned upon his heel and strode away it was a riot motley company gathered about the noble Greenwood tree insured wood steps that same day a score and more of barefoot fries were there and some that looked like tinkers and some that seemed to be sturdy beggars and rustic hines and seated upon a motley couch was one all-cladding tattered scarlet with a patch over one eye and in his hand he held the golden arrow that was the prize of the great shooting match then amidst a noisier talking and laughter he took the patch from off his eye and stripped away the scarlet rags from off his body and showed himself all clothed in fair lincoln green and quote he as he come these things away but will not stay in cometh not so speedily from yellow hair then all laughed louder than before for it was robin hood himself that had won the prize from the sheriffs very hands then all sat down to the woodland feast and talked among themselves at the merry jest that had been played upon the sheriff and of the adventures that had before each member of the band in his disguise but when the feast was done robin hood took little john said truly am i vexed in my blood for i heard the sheriffs say today thou shootest better than that coward named robin hood that did not show his face here this day i would feign let him know who it was who won the golden arrow from out his hand and also that i am no coward such as he takes me to be then little john said good master take thou me and wilt stootley and we will send young fat sheriff news of all this via messenger such as he does not expect that day the sheriff sat at meet in the great hall of his house at nottingham town long tables stood down the hall at which sat men at arms and household servants and good stout villains bond servants in all four score and more there they talked of the days shooting as they ate their meat and quaked their own the sheriff sat at the head of the table upon a raised seat under a canopy and beside him sat his dame by my truth he said i did reckon full roundly that that named robin hood at the game today i did not think that he was such a coward but who could that saucy nape be who answered me to my beard so bravely i wonder that i did not have him beaten but there was something about him that spoke of other things than rags and tatters then even as he finished speaking something fell rattling among the dishes on the table that sat near started up wondering what it might be after a while one of the men at arms gathered courage enough to pick it up and bring it to the sheriff then everyone saw that it was a blunted grey goose shaft with a fine scroll about the thickness of a goose quill tied near to its head the sheriff opened the scroll and glanced at it upon his forehead swelled and his cheeks grew ruddy with rage as he read for this was what he saw now heaven bless thy grace this day say all in sweet sherwood for thou didst give the prize away to mary robin hood whence came this cried the sheriff in a mighty voice even through the window he posed the man who had handed the shaft to him end of chapter 3 by howard pile chapter 4 now when the sheriff found that neither law nor guile could overcome robin hood he was much perplexed and said to himself fool that i am had i not told our king of robin hood i would not have gotten myself into such a coil but now i must either take him captive or have wrath visited upon my head his most gracious majesty i have tried law and i have tried guile and i have failed in both so i will try what may be done with might thus commuting within himself he called his constables together and told them what was in his mind now take ya each four men all armed in proof said he and get ye gone to the forest at different points try and wait for this same robin hood but if my constable finds too many men against him let him sound a horn and then let each band within hearing come with all speed and join the party that calls them thus i think shall we take this green clad name furthermore to him that first meeteth with robin hood shall one hundred pounds of silver money be given if he be brought to me dead or alive and to him that meeteth with any of his band shall two score pounds be given if such be brought to me dead or alive so be ye bold and be ye crafty so thus they went in three score companies of five to Sherwood forest to take robin hood each constable wishing that he might be the one to find the bold outlaw or at least one of his band for seven days and nights they hunted through the forest glades but never saw so much as a single man in Lincoln Green for tidings of all this had been brought to robin hood by trusty edam of the blue boar when he first heard the news robin said if the sheriff dare send force to meet force woe will it be for him and many a better man besides for blood will flow and there will be great trouble for all but feign would I shun blood in battle and feign would I not dear sorrow to women folk and wives because good stout yeoman lose their lives once I slew a man and never do I wish to slay a man again for it is bitter for the soul to think thereon so now we will abide silently in Sherwood forest so that it may be well for all but should we be forced to defend ourselves or any of our band then let each man draw bow and brand with might and main at this speech many of the band shook their heads and said to themselves now the sheriff will think that we are cowards and folk will scoff throughout the countryside saying that we fear to meet these men but they said nothing allowed swallowing their words and doing as robin bad them thus they hid in the depths of Sherwood forest for seven days and seven nights and never showed their faces abroad in all that time but early in the morning of the eighth day robin hood called the band together and said now who will go and find what the sheriff's men are at by this time for I know right well they will not bide forever within Sherwood shades at this a great shout arose and each man waved his bow aloft and cried that he might be the one to go then robin hood's heart was proud when he looked around on his stout brave fellows and he said brave and true are you all my merry men and a right stout band of good fellows are you but you cannot all go so I will choose one from among you and it shall be good will stutely for he is a sly as air an old dog fox in Sherwood forest then will stutely leaped high aloft and laughed loudly clapping his hands for pure joy that he should have been chosen from among them all now thanks good master quoth he and if I bring not news of those naives to thee call me no more thy sly will stutely then he clad himself in a fryer's gown and underneath the robe he hung a good broad sword in such a place that he could stutely lay hands upon it thus clad he set forth upon his quest until he came to the verge of the forest and so to the highway he saw two bands of the sheriff's men yet he turned neither to the right nor the left but only drew his cowl the closer over his face folding his hands as if in meditation so at last he came to the sign of the blue bore for quoth he to himself our good friend Adam will tell me all the news at the sign of the blue bore he found a band of the sheriff's men drinking right lustily so without speaking to anyone he sat down upon a distant bench his staff in his hand and his head bowed forward as though he were meditating thus he sat waiting until he might see the landlord apart and Adam did not know him but thought him to be some poor tired fryer so he let him sit without saying a word to him or molesting him though he liked not the cloth bore said he to himself it's a hard heart that kicks the lame dog from off the sill as stutely sat thus there came a great house cat and rubbed against his knee raising his robe a palms breath high stutely pushed his robe quickly down again but the constable who commanded the sheriff's men passed and saw also fair Lincoln green beneath the fryer's robe he said nothing at the time but communed within himself in this wise you yawn is no fryer of orders gray and also I want no honest yeoman goeth about and priest garb no dot nor doth a thief go so for naught now I think in good sooth that is one of Robin Hood's own men so presently he said aloud oh holy father will thou not take a good pot of march beer to slake thy thirsty soul with all but stutely shook his head silently for he said to himself maybe there be those here who know my voice then the constable said again whether goest thou holy fryer upon this hot summer's day I go a pilgrim to Canterbury town answered will stutely speaking gruffly so that none might know his voice then the constable said for the third time now tell me holy father to pilgrims to Canterbury where good Lincoln green beneath their robes ha by my faith I take thee to be some lusty thief and perhaps one of Robin Hood's own band now by our ladies grace if thou moveest hand or foot I will run they through the body with my sword then he flash forth his bright sword and lit upon will stutely thinking he would take him unaware but stutely had his own sword tightly held in his hand beneath his robe so he drew it forth before the constable came upon him then the stout constable struck a mighty blow but he struck no more in all that fight for stutely parrying the blow right deftly smote the constable back again with all his might then he would have escaped but could not for the other all dizzy with the wound and with the flowing blood seized him by the knees with his arms even as he reeled and fell then the others rushed upon him and stutely struck again at another of the sheriff's men but the steel cap glanced the blow and though the blade bit deep it did not kill meanwhile the constable fainting as he was drew stutely downward and the others seeing the yeoman hampered so rushed upon him again and once smote him a blow upon the crown so that the blood ran down his face and blinded him then staggering he fell and all sprang upon him though he struggled so manfully that they could hardly hold him fast then they bound him with stout hemp and cord so that he could not move either hand or foot and thus they overcame him Robin Hood stood under the Greenwood Tree thinking of Will Stutely and how he might be faring when suddenly he saw two of his stout yeoman come running down the forest path and betwixt them ran buck some macken of the blue boar then Robin's heart fell where he knew they were the bearers of ill tidings Will Stutely have been taken cried they when they had come to where he stood and is it thou that has brought such doleful news said Robin to them at last Hey Mary for I saw it all cried she panting as the hair of pants when it has escaped the hounds and I fear he is wounded sore for once moat him main shrewdly in the crown they have bound him and taken him to knotting him town and ere I left the blue boar I heard that he should be hanged tomorrow day he shall not be hanged tomorrow day cried Robin or if he be full many a one shall gnaw the sod and many shall have caused a cry like a day then he clapped his horn to his lips and blew three blasts right loudly and presently his good yeoman came running through the green wood until seven score bold blades were gathered around him now hark you all cried Robin our dear companion Will Stutely hath been taken by the vile sheriffs men therefore doth it behoove us to take bow and brand in hand to bring him off again for I wot that we ought to risk life and limb for him as he hath risked life and limb for us is it not so my merry men all then all cried aye with a great voice so the next day they all wended their way from Sherwood forest but by different paths were behoove them to be very crafty so the band separated into parties of twos and threes which were all to meet again in a tangled dell that lay near to knotting him town then when they had all gathered together at the place of meeting Robin spoke to them thus now we will lie here in ambush until we can get news for it doth behoove us to be cunning and wary if we would bring our friend Will Stutely off from the sheriffs clutches so they lay hidden a long time until the sun stood high in the sky the day was warm and the dusty road was bare of travelers except an aged palmer walked slowly along the high road that led close beside the grey castle wall of knotting him town when Robin saw that no other way fairer was within sight he called young David of Doncaster who was a shrewd man for his years and said to him now get thee forth young David and speak to yonder palmer that walks beside the town wall for he hath come but now from knotting him town and may tell thee news of good Stutely per chance David strode forth and when he came up to the pilgrim he saluted him and said good morrow Holy Father and canst thou tell me when Will Stutely will be hanged upon the gallus tree hyphane would not miss the sight for I have come from afar to see so sturdy a rogue hanged now out upon the young man cried the palmer that thou should speak so when a good stout man is to be hanged for nothing but guarding his own life and he struck his staff upon the ground in anger alas say I that this thing should be for even this day toward evening and when the sun falleth low he shall be hanged for score rods from the great town gate of knotting him where three roads meet for there the sheriffs swearth he shall die as a warning to all outlaws in knotting him sure but yet I say again alas for though Robin Hood and his band may be outlaws yet he take it only from the rich and the strong and the dishonest man while there is not a poor widow nor a peasant with many children nigh to shoreward but has barley flower enough all the year long through him it grieves my heart to see one as gallant as this Stutely die for I have been a good Saxonyoman in my day ere I turned palmer and well I know a stout hand and one that smighteth shrewdly at a cruel Norman or a proud Abbott with fat money bags had good Stutely's master but known how his man was compassed about with perils but a chance he might send sucker to bring him out of the hand of his enemies hey Mary that is true cried the young man if Robin and his men be nigh this place I want right well they will strive to bring him forth from his peril but fairly well thou good old man and believe me if will Stutely die he shall be right well avenged then he turned and strode rapidly away but the palmer looked after him muttering I want that youth is no country hind that hath come to see a good man die well well perchance Robin Hood is not so far away but that there will be stout doings this day so he went upon his way muttering to himself when David of Doncaster told Robin Hood what the palmer had said to him Robin called the band around him and spoke to them thus now let us get straight way into Nottingham town and mix ourselves with the people there but keep you one another in sight pressing as near the prisoner in his guards as you can when they come outside the walls strike no man without need for I would feign avoid bloodshed but if you do strike strike hard and see that there be no need to strike again then keep all together until we come again to Sherwood and let no man leave his fellows the sun was low in the western sky when a bugle note sounded from the castle wall then all was bustle in Nottingham town and crowds filled the streets for all knew that the famous will Stutely was to be hanged that day presently the castle gates opened wide and a great array of men at arms came forth with noise and clatter the sheriff all clad in shining mail of link chain riding at their head in the midst of all the guard in a cart with a halter about his neck rode will Stutely his face was pale with his wound and with loss of blood like the moon in broad daylight and his fair hair was clotted in points upon his forehead where the blood had hardened when he came forth from the castle he looked up and he looked down but though he saw some faces that showed pity and some that showed friendliness he saw none that he knew and his heart sank within him like a plummet of lead but nevertheless he spoke up boldly give a sword into my hand sir sheriff said he and wounded man though I be I will fight thee and all thy men till life and strength be gone nay thou naughty varlet quoth the sheriff turning his head and looking right grimly upon will Stutely thou shalt have no sword but shall die a mean death as beseemeth a vile thief like thee then do but untie my hands and I will fight thee and thy men with no weapon but only my naked fists I crave no weapon but let me not be meanly hanged this day then the sheriff laughed aloud why how now quoth he is thy proud stomach quailing shrive thyself thou vile name for I mean that thou shalt hang this day and that where three roads meet so that all men shall see thee hang for carrion crows and doze to peck at oh thou dastard heart cried will Stutely gnashing his teeth at the sheriff thou coward hind if ever my good master meet thee thou shalt pay dearly for this day's work he doth scorn thee and so to all blareve hearts knowest thou not that thou and thy name are jests upon the lips of every brave yeoman such a one as thou art thou wretched craven shall never be able to subdue bold robin hood ha! cried the sheriff in a rage is it even a word cried the sheriff in a rage is it even so am I a jest with thy master as thou callest him now I will make a jest of thee and a sorry jest with all for I will quarter thee limb from limb after thou art hanged then he spurred his horse forward and said no more to Stutely at last they came to the great town gate through which Stutely saw the fair country and with hills and dales all clothed in verger and far away the dusky line of Sherwood skirts then when he saw the slanting sunlight lying on field and fallow shining redly here and there on cotton farmhouse and when he heard the sweet birds singing their vespers and the sheep bleeding upon the hillside and beheld the swallows flying in the bright air there came a great fullness to his heart so that all things blurred to his sight through salt tears and he bowed his head lest the folk should think him unmanly when they saw the tears in his eyes thus he kept his head bowed till they had passed through the gate and were outside the walls of the town when he looked up again he felt his heart leap within him and then stand still for pure joy for he saw the face of one of his own dear companions of Mary Sherwood then glancing quickly around he saw well-known faces upon all sides of him crowding closely upon the men at arms who were guarding him then of a sudden the blood sprang to his cheeks for he saw for a moment his own good master in the press and seeing him knew that Robin Hood and all his band were there yet betwixt him and them was a line of men at arms now stand back cried the sheriff in a mighty voice for the crowd pressed round on all sides what mean you varlots that you push on us so stand back I say then came a bustle and a noise and one strove to push between the men at arms so as to reach the cart and stutley saw that it was little John who made all that stir now stand out back cried one of the men at arms whom little John pushed with his elbows now stand out back himself and straightway smote the man a buffet beside his head that felled him as a butcher fells an ox and then he leapt to the cart where stutley sat I pray thee take leave of thy friends ere thou dyest will quote he or maybe I will die with thee if thou must die for I could never have better company then with one stroke he cut the bonds that bound the other's arms and legs and stutley leaped straightway from the cart now as I live cried the sheriff young varlot I know right well as a sturdy rebel take him I bid you all and let him not go so saying he spurred his horse upon little John and riding rising in his stirrups smote with might and mane but little John ducked quickly underneath the horse's belly and the blow whistled harmlessly over his head hey good sir sheriff cried he leaping up again when the blow had passed I must inborrow thy most worshipful sword there upon he twitched the weapon deftly from out the sheriff's hand here stutley he cried the sheriff have lent thee thy sword back to back with me man and defend thyself for help is nigh down with them bellowed the sheriff in a voice like an angry bull and he spurred his horse upon the two who now stood back forgetting in his rage that he had no weapon with which to defend himself stand back sheriff cried little John and even as he spoke a bugle horn sounded shrilly and a cloth yard shaft whistled within an inch of the sheriff's head then came a swaying hither and thither and oaths cries and groans and clashing of steel and swords flashed in the setting sun and a score of arrows whistled through the air and some cried help help and some a rescue a rescue treason cried the sheriff in a loud voice bear back bear back else we be all dead men there upon he reigned his horse backwards through the thickest of the crowd now Robin Hood and his band might have slain half of the sheriff's men had they desired to do so but they let them push out of the press and get them gone shouting a bunch of arrows after them to hurry them in their flight oh stay! shouted Will Stootley after the sheriff thou wilt never catch bold Robin Hood if thou dost not stand to meet him face to face but the sheriff bowing along his horse's back made no answer but only spurred the faster then Will Stootley turned a little John and looked him in the face till the tears from his eyes and he wept aloud and kissing his friend's cheeks oh little John quote he my own true friend and he that I love better than man or woman in all the world beside little did I reckon to see thy face this day or to meet thee this side paradise little John could make no answer but wept also then Robin Hood gathered his band together in a close rank with Will Stootley in the midst and thus they moved slowly away towards Sherwood and were gone as a storm cloud moves away from the spot where a tempest has swept the land but they left ten of the sheriff's men lying along the ground wounded some more some less yet no one knew who smote them down thus the sheriff of Nottingham tried thrice to take Robin Hood and failed each time and the last time he was frightened for he felt how near he had come to losing his life so he said these men fear neither God nor man nor king nor kings officers I would sooner lose mine office than my life so I will trouble them no more so he kept close within his castle for many a day and dared not show his face outside of his own household at the time he was gloomy and would speak to no one for he was ashamed of what had happened that day End of Chapter 4 This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle Chapter 5 Robin Hood Turns Butcher Now after all these things had happened and it became known to Robin Hood how the sheriff had tried three times to make him captive he said to himself if I have the chance I will make our worshipful sheriff pay right well for that which he hath done to me Maybe I may bring him some time into Sherwood Forest and have him to a right merry feast with us For when Robin Hood caught a baron or a squire or fat abbot or bishop he brought them to the Greenwood Tree and feasted them before he lightened to their purses But in the meantime Robin Hood and his band lived quietly in Sherwood Forest without showing their faces abroad for Robin knew that it would not be wise for him to be seen in the neighbourhood of Nottingham though as an authority being very wroth with him But though they did not go abroad they lived a merry life within the woodlands spending the days and shooting at garlands hung upon a willow wand at the end of the glade the leafy aisles ringing with merry jests and laughter for whoever missed the garland was given a sound buffet which, if delivered by little John never failed to topple over the unfortunate yeomen Then they had bouts of wrestling and of cudgel play so that every day they gained in skill and strength Thus they dwelled for nearly a year and in that time Robin Hood often turned over in his mind many means of making an even score with the sheriff At last he began to fret at his confinement so one day he took up his stout cudgel and set forth to seek adventure strolling blithely along until he came to the edge of Sherwood There as he rambled along the sunlit road he met a lusty young butcher driving a fine mare and riding in a stout new cart all hung about with meat Merrily whistled the butcher as he jogged along for he was going to the market and the day was fresh and sweet making his heart blithe within him Good morrow to thee, jolly fellow quote Robin thou seemest happy this merry morn quote the jolly butcher and why should I not be so? Am I not hail and wind and limb? Have I not the bonious lass in all Nottinghamshire? And lastly, am I not to be married to her on Thursday next in sweet Loxley town? Ah! said Robin come as thou from Loxley town well do I know that fair place for miles about and well do I know each hedgerow and gentle pebbly stream and even all the bright little fishes therein for there I was born and bred tell us thou with thy meat, my fair friend I go to the market at Nottingham town to sell my beef and my mutton answered the butcher but who are thou that comes from Loxley town? a yeoman am I and men do call me Robin Hood now by our ladies grace cried the butcher well do I know thy name and many a time have I heard thy deeds both sung and spoken of but heaven forbid that thou shouldst take out of me an honest man am I and have wronged neither man nor maid trouble me not good master as I have never troubled thee nay heaven forbid indeed quote Robin that I should take from such as thee jolly fellow not so much as one farthing when I take from thee for I love a fair Saxon face like thine right well more especially when it cometh from Loxley town and most especially when the man that oneth it is to marry a Bonnie lass on Thursday next but come tell me for what price thou wilt sell me all of thy meat and thy horse and a cart at four marks do I value meat cart and mare quote the butcher but if I do not sell all my meat I will not have four marks in value then Robin Hood plucked the purse from his girdle and quote he here in this purse are six marks now I would feign be a butcher for the day and sell my meat in Nottingham town wilt thou close a bargain with me and take six marks for thine outfit now may the blessings of all the saints fall on thine honest head cried the butcher right joyfully came down from his cart and took the purse that Robin held out to him nay quote Robin laughing loudly many do like me and wish me well but few call me honest now get thee gone back to thy lass and give her a sweet kiss for me so saying he donned the butcher's apron and climbing into the cart he took the reins in his hand and drove off through the forest to Nottingham town when he came to Nottingham he entered that part of the market next he opened his stall and spread his meat upon the bench then taking his cleaver and steel and clattering them together he trolled aloud in merry tones now come ye lassas and eek ye dames and buy your meat for me for three penny-worths of meat I sell for the charge of one penny lamb have I that hath fed upon not but the dainty dames pied and the violet sweet and the daffodil that grow fair streams beside provide from the heathery words and mutton from dales all green and veal as white as a maiden's brow with its mother's milk I wean then come ye lassas and eek ye dames come buy your meat for me for three penny-worths of meat I sell for the charge of one penny thus he sang blithely while all who stood near listened amazingly then when he had finished he clattered the steel and cleaver still more loudly shouting lustily who'll buy? four fixed prices have I three penny-worths of meat I sell to a fat friar or priest for six pence for I want not their custom stout alderman I charge three pence for it doth not matter to me whether they buy or not to buxom dames I sell three penny-worths of meat for one penny for I like their custom well but to the Bonnie lass that hath a liking for a good tight butcher I charge not but one fair kiss for I like her custom the best of all then all began to stare and wonder and crowd around laughing for never was such selling heard of in all Nottingham town but when they came to buy they found it as he had said for he gave good wife or dame as much meat for one penny as they could buy elsewhere for three and when a widow or a poor woman came to him he gave her flesh for nothing but when a merry lass came and gave him a kiss he charged not one penny for his meat and many such came to his stall for his eyes it was as blue as the skies of June and he laughed merrily giving to each full measure thus he sold his meat so fast that no butcher that stood near him could sell anything then they began to talk among themselves and some said this must be some thief who has stolen cart, horse, and meat but others said nay, when did she ever see a thief who parted with his goods so freely and merrily this must be some prodigal who hath sold his father's land and would feign live merrily while the money lasts in these latter being the greater number the others came round one by one to their way of thinking then some of the butchers came to him to make his acquaintance come, brother, quote one, who is the head of the ball we be all of one trade so wilt thou go dine with us for this day the sheriff hath asked all the butcher guild to feast with him at the guild hall there will be stout fare and much to drink and that thou likeest are much mistake thee now, be shrew his heart, quote Jolly Robin that would deny a butcher and, moreover, I will go dine with you all my sweet lads and that as fast as I can hide where, upon having sold all his meat he closed his stall and went with them to the great guild hall there the sheriff had already come in state and with him many butchers when Robin and those that were with him came in all laughing at some merry jest he had been telling them those that were near the sheriff whispered to him yawn is a right mad blade more meat for one penny this day than we could sell for three and to whatsoever merry last gave him a kiss he gave meat for naught and others said he is some prodigal that hath sold his land for silver and gold and meaneth to spend all right merrily then the sheriff called Robin to him not knowing him in his butcher's dress and made him sit close to him on his right hand for he loved a rich young prodigal especially when he thought that he might lighten that prodigal's pockets into his own most worshipful purse so he made much of Robin and laughed and talked with him more than with any of the others at last the dinner was ready to be served and the sheriff bade Robin say grace so Robin stood up and said now heaven bless us all at eek good meat and good sack within this house and may all butchers be and remain as honest men as I am at this all laughed the sheriff loudest of all for he said to himself I made some prodigal and perchance I may empty his purse of some of the money that the fool throweth about so freely then he spake aloud to Robin saying thou art a jolly young blade and I love thee mightily and he smote Robin upon the shoulder then Robin laughed loudly too yea quote he I know thou dost love a jolly blade for didst thou not have jolly Robin hood at thy shooting match and didst thou not gladly give him a bright golden arrow for his own at this the sheriff looked grave and all the guild of butchers too so that none laughed but Robin only some weaked slyly at each other come fill us some sack cried Robin let us air be merry while we may for man is but dust and he hath but a span to live here till the worm geteth him as our good gossip swanthold sayeth so let life be merry while it lasts say I nay nair looked down in the mouth sir sheriff who know us but that thou mayst catch Robin hood yet if thou drinkest less good sack and and bring us down the fat about thy punch and the dust from out thy brain be merry man then the sheriff laughed again but not as though he liked the jest while the butchers said one to another before heaven never have we seen such a mad rollicking blade perhaps though he will make the sheriff mad how now brothers cried Robin be merry nay never count over your farthings for by this and by that I will pay this shot myself and though it cost two hundred pounds so let no man drop his lip nor thrust his forefinger into his purse for I swear that neither butcher nor sheriff shall pay one penny for this feast now thou art a right merry soul quote the sheriff and I want thou must have many ahead of horned beasts and many an acre of land that thou doth spend thy money so freely aye that I have quote Robin laughing loudly again five hundred and more horned beasts have I and my brothers and none of them might not have turned butcher as for my land I've never asked my steward how many acres I have at this the sheriff's eyes twinkled and he chuckled to himself nay good youth quote he if thou can't not sell thy cattle it may be I will find a man that will lift them from thy hands perhaps that man may be myself for I love a merry youth and would help such a one along the path of life now how much does thou want for thy horned cattle well quote Robin is it worth at least five hundred pounds nay answered the sheriff slowly and as if he were thinking within himself well do I love thee and fame would I help thee along but five hundred pounds and money is a good round sum besides I have it not by me yet I will give thee three hundred pounds for them all and that in good hard silver and gold now thou old miser quote Robin well thou knowest that so many horned cattle one hundred pounds and more and even that is but small for them and yet thou with thy gray hairs and one foot in the grave would straight upon the folly of a wild youth at this the sheriff looked grimly at Robin nay quote Robin look not on me as though thou had sour beer in thy mouth man I will take thine offer for I and my brothers do need the money we lead a merry life and no one leads a merry life for a farthing so I will close the bargain with thee but mine that thou bringest a good three hundred pounds with thee for I trust not one that driveeth so shrew to bargain I will bring the money said the sheriff but what is thy name good youth men call me Robert O'Luxley quote bold Robin then good Robert O'Luxley quote the sheriff I will come this day to see thy horned beasts but first my clerk shall draw up a paper in which thou shalt be bound to the sale for thou getst not my money without I get thy beasts in return then Robinhood laughed again so be it he said smiting his palm upon the sheriff's hand truly my brothers will be thankful to thee for thy money thus the bargain was closed but many of the butchers talked among themselves of the sheriff saying that it was but a scurvy trick to beguile a poor spentthrift youth in this way the afternoon had come when the sheriff mounted his horse and joined Robinhood who stood outside the gateway of the paved court waiting for him for he had sold his horse and cart to a trader then they set forth upon their way the sheriff riding upon his horse and Robin running beside him thus they left Nottingham Town and travelled forward along the dusty highway laughing and jesting together as though they had been old friends but all the time the sheriff said within himself thy jest to me of Robinhood shall cost thee dear good fellow even four hundred pounds thou fool for he thought he would make at least that much by his bargain so they journeyed onward till they came to Sherwood Forest when presently the sheriff looked up and down to the right and to the left of him and then grew quiet and seized his laughter now quote he may heaven and its saints preserve us this day from a rogue man called Robinhood then Robin laughed aloud nay said he thou mayst set thy mind at rest for well do I know Robinhood and well do I know that thou art in no more danger from him this day than thou art from me the sheriff looked a scant at Robin saying to himself I like not that thou seemest so well acquainted with this bold outlaw and I wish that I were well out of Sherwood Forest but still they travelled deeper into the forest shades and the deeper they went the more quiet grew the sheriff at last they came to where the road took a sudden bend and before them a herd of done deer went tripping across the path then Robinhood came close to the sheriff and pointing his finger he said beasts good master sheriff how dost thou like them are they not fat and fair to see at this the sheriff drew rain quickly now fellow quote he I would I were well out of this forest for I like not thy company go thou thine own path good friend and let me but go mine but Robin only laughed and caught the sheriff's bridal rain nay cried he stay a while for I would thou should see my brothers who own these fair horned beasts with me so saying he clapped his bugle to his mouth and winded three merry notes and presently up the path came leaping five score good stout yeoman with little John at their head what would thou have good master quote little John why answered Robin does thou not see that I have brought goodly company to feast with us today five for shame do you not see our good at worshipful master the sheriff nodding him take thou his bridal little John for he is honored us today by coming to feast with us then all doffed their hats humbly without smiling or seeming to be in jest while little John took the bridal rain and led the Palfrey still deeper into the forest all marching in order with Robin Hood walking beside the sheriff had in hand all this time the sheriff had never said a word but only looked about him like one suddenly awakened from sleep but when he found himself going within the very depths of Sherwood his heart sank within him for he thought really my three hundred pounds will be taken from me even if they take not my life itself for I have plotted against their lies more than once but all seemed humble and meek and not a word was said of danger either to life or money so at last they came to that part of Sherwood forest where noble oak spread its branches wide and beneath it was a seat all made of moss on which Robin sat down placing the sheriff at his right hand now busky my merry man all quote he and bring forth the best we have both of meat and wine for his worship the sheriff hath feasted me in Nottingham Guild Hall today and I would not have him go back empty all this time nothing had been said of the sheriff's money so presently he began to pluck up heart for he said to himself maybe Robin Hood hath forgotten all about it then while beyond in the forest bright fires crackled and savoury smells of sweetly roasting venison and fat capons filled the glade and brown pastries worn beside the blaze did Robin Hood entertain the sheriff right royally first several couples stood forth at quarterstaff and so shrewd were they at the game and so quickly that they give stroke and parry that the sheriff who loved to watch all lusty sports of the kind clapped his hands for getting where he was and crying aloud well struck well struck thou fellow with the black beard little knowing that the man he called upon was the tinker that tried to serve his warrant then several yeomen came forward and spread claws upon the green grass and placed a royal feast while others still broached barrels of sack and mulmsey and good stout ale and set them in jars upon the cloth with drinking horns about them then all sat down and feasted and drank merrily together until the sun was low and the half moon glimmered with a pale light betwixt the leaves of the trees overhead then the sheriff arose and said I thank you all good yeomen for the merry entertainment ye have given me this day right courteously have ye used me showing therein that ye have much respect for our glorious king and his deputy in brave Nottinghamshire but the shadows grow long and I must away before darkness comes lest I lose myself within the forest then Robin Hood and all his merry men arose also and Robin said to the sheriff if thou must go worshipful sir go thou must but thou hast forgotten one thing nay I forgot not said the sheriff yet all the same his heart sank within him but I say thou hast forgot something we keep a merry in here in the Greenwood but whoever becomeeth our guest must pay his reckoning then the sheriff laughed but the laugh was hollow well jolly boys we have had a merry time together today and even if ye had not asked me I would have given you a score of pounds for the sweet entertainment I have had nay Robin seriously it would ill beseem us to treat your worship so meanly by my faith sir sheriff I would be ashamed to show my face if I did not reckon the king's deputy at three hundred pounds is it not so my merry men all then I cried all in a loud voice three hundred devils roared the sheriff think ye that your beggarly feast was worth three pounds let alone three hundred nay, quote Robin gravely speak not so roundly your worship I do love thee for the sweet feast thou hast given me this day in merry Nottingham town but there be those here who love thee not so much if thou wilt look down the cloth thou wilt see Will Stootley in whose eyes thou hast no great favour then two other stout fellows are there here that thou knowest not that were wounded in a brawl nay, Nottingham town some time ago thou wattest when one arm yet yet got the use of it again good sheriff be advised by me pay thy score without more ado or maybe it will fair ill with thee as he spoke the sheriff's ready cheeks grew pale and he said nothing more but looked upon the ground and nod his nether lip then slowly he drew forth his fat purse and threw it upon the cloth in front of him now take the purse little John quote Robin Hood and see that the reckoning be right we would not doubt our sheriff but he might not like it if he should find he had not paid his full score the little John counted the money and found that the bag held three hundred pounds in silver and gold but to the sheriff it seemed as if every clink of the bright money was a drop of blood from his veins and when he saw it all counted out in a heap of silver and gold filling a wooden platter he turned away and silently mounted his horse never have we had so worshipful a guest and as the day waxeth late I will send one of my young men to guide thee out of the forest depths nay heaven forbid cried the sheriff hastily I can find my own way good man without aid then I will put thee on the right track my own self quote Robin and taking the sheriff's horse by the bridal rain he led him into the main forest path then before he let him go he said now fare thee well good sheriff and when next thou thinkest to spoil some poor prodigal remember thy feast in Sherwood Forest nare by a horse good friend without first looking into its mouth as our good gaffer Swanthold says and so once more fare thee well then he clapped his hand to the horse's back and off went Nag and Sheriff through the forest glades then bitterly the sheriff rude the day that first he meddled with Robin Hood for all men laughed at him and many ballads were sung by folk throughout the country of how the sheriff went to Shear and came home shorn to the very quick for thus men sometimes overreach themselves through greed and guile End of Chapter 5 October 2006 The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle Chapter 6 Little John goes to Nottingham Fair Spring had gone since the sheriff's feast in Sherwood and summer also and the mellow month of October had come all the air was cool and fresh the harvests were gathered home the young birds were full-fledged the hops were plucked and apples were ripe but though time had so smoothed things over that men no longer talked to the horned beasts that the sheriff wished to buy he was still sore about the matter and could not bear to hear Robin Hood's name spoken in his presence With October had come the time for holding the Great Fair which was celebrated every five years at Nottingham Town to which folk came from far and near throughout the country at such times archery was always the main sport of the day for the Nottinghamshire yeoman were the best hand at the longbow in all Mary England but this year the sheriff hesitated a long time before he issued proclamation of the fair fearing lest Robin Hood and might come to it at first he had a great part of a mind not to proclaim the fair but second thought told him that men would laugh at him and say among themselves that he was afraid of Robin Hood so he put that thought by at last he fixed in his mind that he would offer such a prize as they would not care to shoot for at such times it had been the custom to offer a half score of marks or a ton of ale so this year he proclaimed that a prize of two fat steers should be given to the best bowman when Robin Hood heard what had been proclaimed he was vexed and said now be shrew this sheriff that he should offer such a prize that none but Shepherd Hines will care to shoot for it I would have loved nothing better than to have had another bout at Mary Nottingham Town I should win this prize not would it pleasure or profit me then up spoke little John nay but Harkin Goodmaster said he only today will Stutley young David of Doncaster and I were at the sign of the blue boar and there we heard all the news of this merry fair and also that the sheriff had offered this prize that we of Sherwood so Goodmaster if thou wilt I would feign go and strive to win even this poor thing among the stout human who will shoot at Nottingham Town nay little John both Robin thou art a sound stout fellow yet though lackest the cunning the good Stutley had and I would not have harmed the faulty for all Nottinghamshire nevertheless so take some disguise lest there be those there who may know thee so be it Goodmaster both little John yet all the disguise that I wish is a good suit of scarlet instead of this of Lincoln Green I will draw the cowl of my jacket about my head so that it will hide my brown hair and beard and then I trust no one will know me it is much against my will said Robin Hood nevertheless if thou dost wish it get thee gone but bear thyself seemingly little John for thou art mine own right hand man and I could ill bear to have harm befall thee so little John clad himself all in scarlet and started off to the fair at Nottingham Town right merry were these fair days at Nottingham when the green before the great town gate stood with booths standing in rows with tents of many coloured canvas hung about with streamers and garlands of flowers and the folk came from all the countryside both gentle and common in some booths there was dancing to merry music in others float ale and beer and in others yet again sweet cakes and barley sugar were sold and sport was going outside the booth where some minstrel sang ballads of the olden time playing a second upon the harp or where the wrestlers struggled with one another within the sawdust ring but the people gathered most of all around a raised platform where stout fellows played at quarter staff so little John came to the fair all scarlet were his hose in jerkin and scarlet was his cowled cap with a scarlet feather stuck in the side of it over his shoulders was slung stout bow of you and across his back hung a quiver of good round arrows many turned to look after such a stout tall fellow for his shoulders were broader by a palms breadth than any that were there and he stood a head taller than all the other men the Lasses also looked at him a scant thinking they had never seen a lustier youth first of all he went to the booth where stout ale was sold and standing aloft on a bench he called to all that were near to come and drink with him hey sweet lads who will drink ale with a stout human come all let us be merry for the day is sweet and the ale is tingling come hither good human thou for not of farthing shall one of you pay nay turn hither thou lusty beggar and thou jolly tinker for all shall be merry with me thus he shouted and all crowded around laughing while the brown ale flowed and they called little John a brave fellow each swearing that he loved him as his own brother for when one has entertainment he loves the man that gives it to one then he strolled to the platform where they were at cudgel play for he loved about a quarter staff as he loved meat and drink and here befell an adventure that was sung in ballads throughout the mid-country for many a day one fellow there was that cracked crowns of everyone who threw cap into the ring this was Eric O'Lincoln of great renown whose name had been sung in ballads throughout the countryside when little John reached the stand he found none fighting but only bold Eric walking up and down the platform swinging his staff and shouting lustily now who will come and strike a stroke for the lass he loves the best with a good Lincolnshire human how now lads step up step up right hereabouts or the blood of Nottingham youth is sluggish and cold Lincoln against Nottingham say I for no one has put foot upon the boards this day such as we of Lincoln call a cudgel player at this one would nudge another with his elbow saying go thou Ned or go thou Thomas but no lad cared to gain a cracked crown for nothing presently Eric saw or little John stood among the others ahead and shoulders above them all and he called to him loudly hello thou long-legged fellow in scarlet broad are thy shoulders and thick thy head is not thy last fair enough for thee to take cudgel in hand for her sake in truth I believe that Nottingham men do turn to bone and sinew for neither heart nor courage have they now though great lout will thou not twirl staff for Nottingham I both little John had I but my own good staff here it would pleasure me hugely to crack thy nape's pate thou saucy braggart I what it would be well for thee and thy coxcom were cut thus he spoke slowly at first for he was slow to move but his wrath gathered headway like a great stone rolling down a hill so that at the end he was full of anger then Erica Lincoln laughed aloud well spoken for one who fears to meet me fairly man to man said he saucy art thou thine own self and if thou puttest foot upon these boards I will make thy saucy tongue rattle within thy teeth now both little John is there never a man here that will lend me a good stout staff till I try the metal of John fellow at this half a score reached him their staves and he took the stoutest and heaviest of them all then looking up and down the cudgel he said now I have in my hand but a splint of wood a barley straw as it were yet I try what will have to serve me so here goeth there upon he cast the cudgel upon the stand and leaping lightly after it snatched it up in his hand again then each man stood in his place and measured the other with foul looks until he that directed the sport cried play at this they stepped forth each grasping his staff tightly in the middle then those that stood around saw the stoutest game of quarter staff that air knotting him town beheld at first Eric O'Lincoln thought that he would gain an easy advantage so he came forth as if he would say watch good people how that I car view this cockerel right speedily but he presently founded to be no such speedy matter right deathly he struck and with great skill offense but he had found his match in little John once twice thrice he struck and three times little John turned the blows to the left hand and to the right then quickly and with a dainty backhanded blow he wrapped Eric beneath his guard so shrewdly that it made his head ring again then Eric stepped back to gather his wits while a great shout went up and all were glad that knotting him had cracked Lincoln's crown and thus ended the first bout of the game then presently the director of the sport cried play and they came together again but now Eric played warily for he found his man was of right good metal and also he had no sweet memory of the blow that he had got so this bout neither little John nor the Lincoln man caught a stroke within his guard then after a while they parted again and this made the second bout then for the third time they came together and at first Eric strove to be wary as he had been before but growing mad at finding himself so foiled he lost his wits and began to rain blows so fiercely and so fast that they rattled like hail on penthouse roof but in spite of all he did not reach within little John's guard then at last little John saw his chance and seized it right cleverly once more with a quick blow he wrapped Eric beside the head and ere he could regain himself little John slipped his right hand down to his left and with a swinging blow smote the other so sorely upon the crown that down he fell as though he would never move again then the people shouted so loud that folk came running from all about to see what was the adieu while little John leaped down from the stand and gave the staff back to him that had lent it to him and thus ended the famous bout between little John and Eric O. Lincoln of great renown but now the time had come when those who were to shoot with the longbow were to take their places so the people began flocking to the butts and was to be near near the target in a good place sat the sheriff upon a raised days with many gentle folk around him when the archers had taken their places the herald came forward and proclaimed the rules of the game and how each should shoot three shots and to him that should shoot the best the prize of two fat steers was to belong a score of brave shots were gathered there and among some of the keenest hands at the longbow in Lincoln and Nottinghamshire and among them little John stood taller than all the rest who is John Stranger clad all in scarlet said some and others answered it is he that have but now so soundly cracked the crown of Eric O. Lincoln and thus the people talked among themselves until at last it reached even the sheriff's ears and now each man stepped forward and shot in turn but though each shot well little John was the best of all for three times he struck the clout and once only the length of a barley-corn from the center hey for the tall archer shouted the crowd and some among them shouted hey for reynold greenleaf for this was the name that little John had called himself that day then the sheriff stepped down from the raised seat and came to where the archers stood while all doffed their caps that saw him coming he looked keenly at little John but did not know him though he said after a while how now good fellow me thinks there is that about thy face that I have seen ere while may happen may be so both little John and as he spoke he looked steadily into the sheriff's eyes so that the latter did not suspect who he was a brave blade are thou good friend said the sheriff and I hear that thou hast well appell the skill of nodding him shire against that of Lincoln this day what may be thy name good fellow men do call me reynold greenleaf your worship said little John and the old ballad that tells of this adds so in truth was he a greenleaf but of what manner of tree the sheriff wanted not now reynold greenleaf quoth the sheriff thou art the fairest hand at the longbow that mine eyes ever beheld next to that false nave Robin Hood from whose wiles heaven forfend me wilt thou join my service good fellow thou shalt be paid right well for three suits of clothes shalt thou have a year with good food and as much ale as thou can't drink and besides this I will pay thee forty marks each mycomas tide then here stand I a free man and right gladly will I enter thy household said little John for he thought he might find some merry jest should he enter the sheriff's service fairly hast thou won the fat steers said the sheriff and here unto I will add fat of good March beer for joy of having gotten such a man for I want thou shouldest his fairer shaft as Robin Hood himself then said little John for joy of having gotten myself into thy service I will give fat steers and brown ale to all these good folk to make them merry with all at this arose a great shout many casting their caps aloft for joy of the gift then some built great fires and roasted the steers and others broached the butt of ale with which all made themselves merry then when they had eaten and drunk as much as they could and when the day faded and the great moon arose all red and round over the spires and towers of Nottingham town they joined hands and danced around the fires to the music and music but long before this merrymaking had begun the sheriff and his new servant Reynold Greenleaf were in the castle of Nottingham End of Chapter 6 Thus little John entered into the sheriff's service and found the life he led there easy enough for the sheriff made him his right hand man and held him in great favor he sat nigh the sheriff at meet and he ran beside his horse when he went hunting so that when with hunting a hawking a little and eating rich dishes and drinking good sack and sleeping until late hours in the morning he grew as fat as a stall fed ox thus things floated easily along with the tide until one day when the sheriff went to hunting there happened that which broke the smooth surface of things this morning the sheriff and many of his men set forth to meet certain lords to go hunting he looked all about him for his good man Reynold Greenleaf but not finding him was vexed for he wished to show little John's skill to his noble friends as for little John he lay a bed snoring lustily till the sun was high in the heavens at last he opened his eyes and looked about him but did not move to arise and all the air was sweet with the scent of woodmine that hung in sprays about the wall without for the cold winter was past and spring was come again and little John lay still thinking how sweet was everything on this fair morn just then he heard faint and far away a distant bugle note sounding thin and clear the sound was small but like a little pebble dropped into a glassy fountain that broke all the smooth surface of his thoughts until his whole soul was filled with disturbances his spirit seemed to awaken from his sluggishness and his memory brought back to him all the Murray Greenwood life how the birds were singing blithely there this bright morning and how his loved companions and friends were feasting and making merry or perhaps talking of him with sober speech for when he first entered the sheriff's service he did so in jest but the hearthstone was warm during the winter and the fair was full and so he had abided putting off from day to day his going back to Sherwood until six long months had passed but now he thought of his good master and of Will Stutley whom he loved better than anyone in all the world and of young David of Denkester whom he had trained so well in all manly sports till there came over his heart a great and bitter longing for them all so that his eyes filled with tears and then he said aloud here I grow fat like a stall-fed ox and all my manliness departs from me while I became sluggard and dull but I will arise me and go back to my own dear friends once more and never will I leave them again till life doth leave my lips so saying he leapt from his bed for he hated his sluggishness now when he came downstairs he saw the Stuart standing near the pantry door a great fat man with a huge bundle of keys hanging to his girdle then little John said oh master Stuart a hungry man am I for not to I have had all this blessed morn therefore give me to eat then the Stuart looked grimly at him and rattled the keys in his girdle for he hated little John because he had found favor with the sheriff so master Reynolds Greenleaf thou art a hungered art thou but fair youth if thou livest long enough thou wilt find that he who getteth over much sleep for an idle head goeth with an empty stomach for what sayeth the old saw master Greenleaf is it not the late foul findeth but ill faring now thou great purse of fat cried little John I asked thee not for fool's wisdom but for bread and meat thou that thou shouldest deny me to eat by St. Dunstan thou hast best tell me where my breakfast is if thou would save broken bones thy breakfast master Fireblaze is in the pantry answered the Stuart then fetch it hither cried little John who waxed angry by this time go thou and fetch it thine own self quote the Stuart am I thy slave to fetch and carry for thee I say go thou bring it to me I say go thou fetch it for thyself ah marry that will I write quickly quote little John in a rage and so saying he strode to the pantry and tried to open the door but found it locked where at the Stuart laughed and rattled his keys then the wrath of little John boiled over and lifting his clenched fist he smote the pantry door bursting out three panels and making so large an opening that he could easily stoop and walk through it when the Stuart saw what was done he waxed mad with rage and as little John stooped to look within the pantry he seized him from behind by the nape of the neck pinching him sorely and smiting him over the head with his keys till the yeoman's ears rang again at this little John turned upon the Stuart and smote him such a buffet that the fat man felt to the floor and lay there as though he would never move again there think well of that stroke and never keep a good breakfast from a hungry man again so saying he crept into the pantry and looked about him to see if he could find something to appease his hunger he saw a great venison pasty and two roasted capons beside which was a platter of plumber's eggs moreover there was a flask of sack and one of canary a sweet sight to a hungry man these he took down from the shelves and placed upon a sideboard and prepared to make himself merry now the cook in the kitchen across the courtyard heard the loud talking between little John and the Stuart and also the blow that little John struck the other so he came running across the court and up the stairway to where the Stuart's pantry was bearing in his hands the spit with the roast still upon it meanwhile the Stuart had gathered his wits about him and risen to his feet so that when the cook came to the Stuart's pantry he saw him glowering through the broken door of little John who was making ready for a good repast as one dog glowers at another that has a bone when the Stuart saw the cook he came to him and putting one arm over his shoulder a last sweet friend both he but the cook was a tall stout man see as thou what thou vile name reynold greenleaf hath done he hath broken in upon our masters good and hath spit in me a buffet upon the ear so that I thought I was dead good cook I love thee well and thou shalt have a good potl of our masters best wine every day for thou art an old and faithful servant alas good cook I have ten shillings that I mean to give as a gift to thee but hate as thou not to see a vile upstart like this reynold greenleaf taking it upon him so bravely I marry that I do quote the cook boldly for he liked the Stuart because of his talk of the wine and the ten shillings get thee gone straight away to thy room and I will bring out this nave by his ears so saying he laid aside his spit drew the sword that hung by his side whereupon the Stuart left as quickly as he could for he hated the sight of naked steel then the cook walked straight away to the broken pantry door through which he saw little John taking a napkin beside his chin and preparing to make himself marry why how now reynold greenleaf said the cook thou art no better than a thief I want come thou straight forth man and I will carve thee as I would to carve a sucking pig nay good cook bear thou thyself more seemingly or else I will come forth to thy dole at most times I am a yearling lamb but when one cometh between me and my meat I am a raging lion as it were lion or no lion quote the valorous cook come thou straight forth else thou art a coward heart as well as a navish thief ha cried little John coward's name have I never had so look to thyself good cook for I come forth straight the roaring lion I did speak of but now then he too drew his sword and came out of the pantry then putting himself into position they came slowly together with grim and angry looks but suddenly his point hold good cook said he now I bethink me it were ill of us to fight with good victual standing so nigh and such a feast I would befit two stout fellows such as we are merry good friend I think we should enjoy this fair feast here we fight let's say us thou jolly cook at this speech the cook looked up and down scratching his head in doubt for he loved good feasting at last he drew a long breath well good friend I like thy plan right well so pretty boy say I let us feast with all my heart for one of us may sup in paradise before nightfall so each thrust his sword back into the scabbard and entered the pantry then after they had seated themselves little John drew his dagger and thrust it into the pie a hungry man must be fed both he so sweet chuck I helped myself without leave but the cook did not lag far behind for straight away his hands also were deeply thrust within the good pastry after this neither of them spoke further but used their teeth to better purpose but though neither spoke they looked but one another each thinking within himself that he had never seen a more lusty fellow than the one across the board at last after a long time and past the cook drew a full deep breath as though of much regret and wiped his hands upon the napkin for he could eat no more little John also had enough for he pushed the pastry aside as though he would say I want thee by me no more good friend then he took the puddle of sack and said he no good fellow I swear by all that is bright that thou art the stoutest companion at eating that I ever had lo I drink thy health so saying he clapped the flask to his lips and cast his eyes aloft while the good wine flooded his throat then he passed the puddle to the cook who also said lo I drink thy health sweet fellow nor was he behind little John in drinking any more than in eating now quote little John thy voice is right round and sweet jolly lad I doubt not thou can't sing a ballad most blankly can't thou not oh truly I have trolled one now and then yet I would not sing alone nay truly said little John but ill courtesy strike up thy diddy and I will afterwards sing one catch it if I can so be it pretty boy quote the cook and has thou heard the song of the deserted shepherdess truly I know not answered little John but sing thou and let me hear then the cook took another draft from the puddle clearing his throat sang right sweetly the song of the deserted shepherdess in lantern time when leaves wax green and pretty birds begin to mate when lock cloth sing and thrush I wean and stock dove go with soon and late fair Phyllis sat beside a stone and thus I heard her make her moan oh willow willow willow willow I'll take me out thy branches fell and twine a wreath to deck my hair the thrush hath taken him as she the robin to and heek the dove and hath deserted me and left me for another love so here by brookside all alone I sit me down and make my moan oh willow willow willow willow I'll take me out thy branches fell and twine a wreath to deck my hair but near came herring from the sea but good as he were in the tide young carried on come for the and sat him Phyllis down beside so presently she changed her tone and came to see her from her moan oh willow willow willow willow thou mayst and keep thy garlands fair and want them not to deck my hair now by my faith cried little John that scene is a right good song and hath truth in it also glad am I thou likeest it sweet lad said the cook now sing thou one also for ne'er should a man be merry alone or sing it list not then I will sing thee a song of a right good night of Arthur's court and how he cured his heart's wound without running upon the dart again as did thy Phyllis for I watch she did but curve one smart by giving herself another so list thou while I sing the good night and his love when Arthur king did rule this land a goodly king was he and had he stout knights a band of merry company among them all both great and small a good stout knight was there a lusty child and icka tall that loved the lady fair but not would she to do with he but turned her face away so got he gone to far country and left that lady gay there all alone he made his moan and did sob and sigh and weep till it would move a stone and he was like to die but still his heart did feel the smart and ick the dire distress and rather grew his pain more sharp as grew his body less then got he back where was good snack and merry company and soon did cease to cry a lack when Blythe and gay was he from which I hold and feel full bold to say and ick believe that gin the belly go not cold the heart will cease to grieve now by my faith cried the cook as he rattled the pottle against the sideboard I like that same song hugely and ick the motive of it which lieth like a sweet colonel in a hazelnut now that art a man of shrewd opinions little john and I love thee truly as thou werent my brother and I love thee too but the day draweth on and I have my cooking to do ere on our master cometh home so let us and go and settle this brave fight we have in hand ah merry quote little john and that right speedily never have I been more laggard in fighting than in eating and drinking so come now straight forth into the passageway where there is a good room to swing a sword and I will try to serve thee then they both stepped forth into the broad passage that led to the steward's pantry where each man drew his sword again and without more ado fell upon the other as though he would hew his fellow limb from limb then their swords clashed upon one another with great din and sparks flew from each other blow in showers so they fought up and down the hall for an hour and more neither striking the other a blow though they strove their best to do so for both were skillful at the fence so nothing came at all their labor ever an anon they rested panting then after getting their wind at it they would go again more fiercely than ever at last little john cried out hold good cook where upon each rested upon his sword panting now will I make my vow quote little john thou art the very best swordsman that ever mine eyes beheld truly I had thought to carve the air now and I had thought to do the same by thee quote the cook but I have missed the mark somehow now I have been thinking within myself quote little john what we are fighting for but shall be it I do not rightly know why no more do I said the cook I bear no love for that Percy Stuart but I thought that we had engaged to fight with one another and that it must be done now quote little john it doth seem to me that instead of striving to cut one another's throats it were better for us to be boom companions what sayest thou jolly cook wilt thou go with me to Sherwood forest and join with Robin Hood's band thou shalt live a merry life within the woodlands and seven score good companions thou shalt have one of whom is mine own self thou shalt have three suits of Lincoln Green each year and forty marks in pay now thou art a man after mine own heart as thou speakest of it that is the very service for me I will go with thee and that rightly gladly give me thy palm sweet fellow and I will be thine own companion from henceforth what may be thy name lad men do call me little john good fellow how and art thou indeed little john and Robin Hood's own right hand man many a time and oft I heard of thee but never did I hope to set eyes upon thee and thou art indeed the famous little john and the cook seemed lost in amazement and looked upon his companion with open eyes I am little john indeed and I will bring to Robin Hood this day a right stout fellow to join his merry band but here we go good friend it seemeth to me that to be a vast pity had so much of the sheriffs food we should not also carry off some of his silver plate to Robin Hood as a present from his worship and merry it is said the cook and so they began hunting about and took as much silver as they could lay hands upon clapping it into a bag and when they had filled the sack they set forth to Sherwood forest plunging into the woods they came at last to the greenwood tree where they found Robin Hood and three score of his merry men lying upon the fresh green grass when Robin and his men saw who it was after their feet now welcome cried Robin Hood now welcome little john for long hath it been since we have heard from thee thou we all knew that thou has joined the sheriffs service and how hath thou faired all these long days right merrily have I lived at the lord sheriffs answered little john and I have come straight hence see good master I have brought thee his cook and even his silver plate thereupon he told Robin Hood and his merry men that were there all that had befallen him since he had left them to go to the fair nodding him town then all shouted with laughter except Robin Hood but he looked grave nay little john said he thou art a brave blade and a trusty fellow I am glad thou has brought thyself back to us and with such good companion as the cook whom we all welcome to Sherwood but I like not so well that thou has stolen the sheriffs plate like some paltry thief the sheriff hath been punished by us and hath lost 300 pounds even as he sought to despoil another should steal his household plate from him though little john was vexed with this he strove to pass it off with a jest nay good master if thou thinkest the sheriff gave us not the plate I will fetch him that he may tell us with his own lips he giveth it all to us so saying he lept to his feet and was gone before Robin could call him back little john ran for full five miles till he came to where the sheriff of noddingham a gay company were hunting near the forest when little john came to the sheriff he dopped his cap and bent his knee and said to the good master why rentled green leaf cried the sheriff once cometh thou and where hath thou been I have been in the forest answered little john speaking amazingly and there I saw a sight such as near before man's eyes behold yonder I saw a young heart all in green from top to toe and about him was a herd of three scored deer and they too were all of green from head to toe yet I dare not shoot good master for fear lest they should slay me then old green leaf cried the sheriff ought thou dreaming or ought thou mad that thou dost bring me such a tale nay I am not dreaming nor am I mad said little john and if thou will come with me I will show thee this fair sight for I have seen it with mine own eyes but thou must come alone good master lest the others frighten them and they get away so the party all rode forward and little john led them downward into the forest now good master both thee at last we are nigh where I saw this herd the sheriff descended from his horse and bait them wait for him until he should return and little john led him forward through a closed cops until suddenly they came to a great open glade at the end of which robin hood sat beneath the shade of the great oak tree with his merry man all about him see good master sheriff yonder is the heart of which I speak to thee at this the sheriff turned to little john and said bitterly long ago I thought I remembered thy face but now I know thee woe betide thee little john for thou betrayed me to this day in the meantime robin hood had come to them now welcome master sheriff said he has thou come today to take another feast with me nigh heaven forbid said the sheriff in tones of deep hermest I care for no feast and have no hunger today ah nevertheless quote robin if thou has no hunger maybe thou has thirst and well I know thou will take a cup of sack with me but I am grieved that thou will not feast with me for thou couldst have victuals to be liking my cook then they led the sheriff willy-nilly to the seat he knew so well beneath the greenwood tree ho lads! cried robin fill our good friend the sheriff a right brimming cup of sack and fetch it hither for he is faint and weary then one of the band brought the sheriff a cup of sack bowing low as he handed it to him but the sheriff could not touch the wine for he saw it served in his own silver flagons on one of his own silver plates how now! called robin thus thou not like our new silver service we think of it this day so saying he held up the sack of silver that little John and the cook had brought with him then the sheriff's heart was bitter within him but not daring to say anything he only gazed upon the ground robin looked keenly at him for a time before he spoke again then said he now master sheriff the last time thou came as to Sherwood forest thou didst come seeking to despoil a poor spendthrift and thou were to spoil thine own self but now thou come as seeking to do no harm nor do I know that thou hast to spoil any man take my ties from fat priests and lordly squires to help those that they despoil and to raise up those that they may bow down but I know not that thou hast tenants of thine own whom hath house wronged in any way therefore take thou thine own again nor will I dispossess thee today of so much as one farthing come with me and I will lead thee from the forest to back to thine own party again then slinging the bag upon his shoulder he turned away the sheriff following him all too perplexed in mind to speak so they went forward until they came to within a furlong of the spot where the sheriff's companions were waiting for him then Robin Hood gave the sack of silver back to the sheriff take thou thine own again he said and harken to me good sheriff take thou a piece of advice with it try thy servants well there thou dost engage them again so readily then turning he left the other standing bewildered with the sack in his hands the company that waited for the sheriff were all amazed to see him come out of the forest but thou they questioned him he answered never a word acting like one who walks in a dream without a word he placed the bag across his nags back and then mounting rode away all following him but all the time there was a great turmoil of thoughts within his head tumbling one over the other and thus ends the merry tale of little John and how he entered the sheriff's service the merry adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle Chapter 8 Little John and the Tanner of Blythe one fine day not long after Little John had left a biding with the sheriff and had come back with his worship's cook to the merry Greenwood as has just been told Robin Hood and a few chosen fellows of his band lay upon the soft sward beneath the Greenwood tree where they dwelled the day was warm and sultry and the day was warm and sultry and the day was warm the day was warm and sultry so that while most of the band were scattered through the forest upon this mission and upon that these few stout fellows lay lazily beneath the shade of the tree in the soft afternoon passing jests among themselves and telling merry stories with laughter and mirth all the air was laden with the bitter fragrance of May and all the busky shades of the woodlands beyond rang with the sweet song of birds the throttle crock, the cuckoo and the wood pigeon and with the song the birds mingled the cool sound of the gurgling book that leapt up upon the forest shades and ran fretting amid its rough grey stones across the sunlit open glade before the tristing tree and a fair sight was that half-score of tall stout yeoman aw clad in Lincoln green lying beneath the broad spreading branches of the great oak tree amid the quivering leaves of which the sunlit shivered and fell in dancing patches upon the grass suddenly Robin Hood smote his knee, by St. Dunstan Quothee, I had nigh forgot that quarter day cometh on a pace and yet no cloth of Lincoln green in all our store it must be looked to, and that in quick season, come bust thee, little John, stir those lazy bones of thine, for thou must get thee straight away to our good gossip the draper of Hugh Longshock and of Angerster. Bid him send us straight away twenty score yards of fair cloth of Lincoln green and may have the journey may take some of the fat from off thy bones that thou has gotten from lazy living at our dear sheriffs. Nay, muttered little John, for he had heard so much upon this score that he was score upon the point. Nay, truly may have, I may have more flesh upon my joints than I once had yet flesh or no flesh, I doubt not that I could still hold my place, putting upon a narrow bridge against a heir Yeoman in Sherwood, or Nottingham Shower, for that matter even that, even though he had no more fat upon his bones than thou hasht, good master. At this reply a great shout of laughter went up and all looked at Robin Hood, for each man knew that little John spoke of a certain fight that happened between their master and himself, through which they first became acquainted. Nay, quote Robin Hood, laughing louder than all, heaven forbid that I should doubt thee, for I care for no taste of thy staff myself, little John. I must need zone that there are those of my ban can handle a seven foot staff more deftly than I, yet no man in all Nottingham Shire can draw grey goose shaft with my fingers. Nevertheless, a journey to Angerster may not be ill for thee, so go thou as I bid, and thou must be this very evening, for since thou hast abided at the sheriffs, many know thy face, and if thou goest in broad daylight, thou mayest get thyself into a coil with some of his worship's men at arms. Bid thou here till I bring thee money to pay our good hue, I warrant he hath no better customers in all Nottingham Shire than we. So saying, Robin left them and entered the forest. Not far from the Tristing Tree was a great rock, in which a chamber had been hewn, the entrance being barred by a massive oakendore, two palms breath in thickness, studded about with spikes and fastened with a great padlock. This was the treasure house of the band, and thither Robinhood went and unlocking the door entered the chamber from which he brought forth a bag of gold, which he gave to Little John to pay Hugh Longshank's with-all for the cloth of Lincoln Green. Then, up got Little John, and taking the bag of gold which he thrust into his bosom, he strapped a girdle upon his loins, took a stout pike staff full seven feet long in his hand, and set forth upon his journey. He strode whistling along the leafy forest path that led to Fosse Way, turning neither to the right hand nor the left until the last he came to where the path branched, leading on the one hand toward Fosse Way, and on the other, as well Little John knew, to the merry blue-bore inn. Here Little John suddenly ceased whistling, and stopped in the middle of the path. First he looked up, and then he looked down, and then tilting his cap over one eye, he slowly scratched the back part of his head, for thus it was. At the sight of these two roads, the two voices began to alarm within him, the one crying. There lies the road to the blue-bore inn, a can of brown october and a merry night with sweet companions such as thou mayest find there. The other. There lies the way to Ancaster, and the duty thou art sent upon. Now, the first of these two voices was far the louder, for Little John had grown passing fond of good living through abiding at the Sheriff's House, so presently looking up into the blue sky across which bright clouds flow, like silver boats and swallows skimming in circling flight, Quothee. I fear it will rain this evening, so I, and stop at the blue-bore till it passes by, for I know my good master would not have me wet to the skin. So without more ado, off he strode down the path that lay the way of his likings. Now, there was no sign of any foul weather, but when one wishes to do a thing as Little John did, one finds no lack of reasons for thy doing. Four merry-wags were at the blue-bore in a butcher, a beggar, and two barefoot friars. Little John heard them singing from afar as he walked through the hush of the mellow twilight that was now falling over hill and dale. Right glad were they to welcome such a merry blade as Little John, fresh cans of ale were brought in with gestant song and merry tales the hour slipped away on fleeting wings. None thought of time or tide till the night was so far gone that Little John put by the thought of setting forth upon his journey again that night, and so bided at the blue-bore tomorrow. Now, it was an ill piece of luck for Little John that he left his duty for his pleasure, and he paid a great score for it, as we are all apt to do in the same case as you shall see. Up he rose at dawn of the next day, and taking his stout pike staff in his hand, he set forth upon his journey once more as though he would make up for lost time. In the good town of Blythe there lived a stout tanner, celebrated far and near for feats of strength and many tough bouts at wrestling and the quarter-staff. For five years he had held the mid-country champion belt for wrestling till the great Adamo Lincoln cast him in the ring and broke one of his ribs. But at the quarter-staff he had never yet met his match in all the country about. Besides all this he dearly loved the longbow and a sly jaunt into the forest when the moon was full and the done deer in season so that the king's ranger kept a shrewd eye upon him in his doings. For Arthur of Bland's house was apt to have a plenty of meat in it that was more like venison than the law allowed. Now Arthur had been to Nottingham town the day before Little John set forth on his errand there to sell a half-score of tanned cowhides. At the dawn of the same day that Little John left the inn he started from Nottingham homeward for Blythe. His way led all in the dewy moor and past the verge of Sherwood Forest where the birds were welcoming the lovely day with the great and merry Jubilee. Across the tanner shoulders was slung a stout quarter-staff ever near enough to him to be gripped quickly and on his head was a cap of clove and even by a broadsword. Now, both Arthur of Bland to himself, when he had come to that part of the road that cut through a corner of the forest, no doubt at this time of year the done deer are coming from the forest depths nire to the open meadowlands may have I may chance to catch a sight of the dainty brown darlings thus early in the morn. For there was nothing he loved better than to look upon a tripping herd of deer even when they could not tickle their ribs with a clothured shaft. Accordingly, quitting this way and that through the underbrush, spying now here and now there with all the wiles of a master of woodcraft and of one who had more than once donned a doublet of Lincoln Green. Now, as little John stepped blithely along, thinking of nothing but of such things as the sweetness of the Hawthorne buds that bedecked the hedgerows or gazing upward at the lark, that springing from the dewy grass hung aloft on quivering wings in the yellow sunlight pouring forth its song that fell like falling star from the sky, his luck led him away from the highway and the spot where Arthur Ablan was peeping this way and that through the leaves of the thickets. Hearing a rustling of the branches, little John stopped and presently caught sight of the brown cow-eyed cap of the tanner moving among the bushes. I do much wonder, quote little John to himself, what John Nave is after that he should go thus peeping and peering about I verily believe that John's scurvy barlode is no better than a thief and cometh here after our own and the good king's done deer. For, by much roving in the forest, John had come to look upon all the deer and sherweth that belonged to Robin Hood and his band as much as to the good king Harry, nay, quote he again after a time, this matter must then be looked into, so quitting the high road he also entered the thickets and began spying around after stout Arthur Ablan. So for a long time they both of them went hunting about little John after the tanner and the tanner after the deer. At last little John trod upon a stick which snapped under his foot, where hearing the noise the tanner turned quickly and caught sight of the omen. Seeing that the tanner had spied him out, little John put a bold face upon the matter. Hello, quote he, what are thou doing here, thou naughty fellow? Who art thou that cometh ranging sherweth's paths? In very sooth thou hast an evil cast of countenance and I do think, truly, that thou art no better than a thief and cometh after our good king's deer. Nay, quote the tanner boldly, for thou taken by surprise he was not a man to be frightened by big words. Thou liest in thy teeth, I am no thief but an honest craftsman, as for my countenance it is what it is and for the matter of that thine own is none too pretty, thou saucy fellow. Quote little John in a great loud voice, what's thou give me back talk? Now I have a great part of a mind to crack thy peat for thee. I would have thee know, fellow, that I am, as it were, one of the king's foresters, least wise, muttered to himself. I and my friends do take good care of our good sovereign's deer. I care not who thou art, answered the bold tanner, and unless thou hast many more of thy kind by thee thou canst never make Arthur a bland cry, mercy. Is it so? cried little John in a rage. Now, by my faith, thou saucy rogue, thou tying hath led thee into a pit thou with have a sorry time getting out of, for I will give thee such a drubbing as near has thy life before. Take thy staff in thy hand, fellow, for I will not smite an unarmed man. Ha! Mary come up with a moraine! cried the tanner, for he too had talked himself into a fume. Big words, Nair, killed so much as a mouse, who art thou that talk so freely of cracking the head of Arthur a bland? If I do not tend thy hide this day, as near I tend a calf's hide in all my life before, split my staff into scores for lambs flesh, and call me. Now, look to thyself, fellow! Stay, said little John, let us first measure our cudgels. I do reckon my staff longer than thine, and I would not take advantage of by thee for even so much as an inch. Nay, I pass not for length! answered the tenor. My staff is long enough to knock down a calf, so look to thyself, fellow, I say again. So, without more ado, each gripped his staff in the middle, and with fel and angry news had been brought to Robinhood how that little John, instead of doing his bidding, had passed by duty for pleasure, and so had stopped overnight with merry company at the blue boar in, instead of going straight to Ancestor. So, being vexed to his heart by this, he set forth a dawn of day to seek little John at the blue boar, or at least to meet the yeomen on the way and ease his heart of what he thought of the matter. As thus he strode along in anger, putting together the words he would use to chide little John's voices, as of men in a rage passing fel words back and forth from one another. At this, Robinhood stopped and listened. Surely, quote he to himself, that is little John's voice, and he is talking in anger also. Me thinks the other is strange to my ears. Now, heaven for fend that my good trusty little John should have fallen into the hands of the king's rangers. I must see to this matter and that quickly. Thus spoke Robinhood to himself, all his anger passing away like a breath from the windowpane, at the thought that perhaps his trusty right hand man was in some danger of his life. So cautiously, he made his way through the thickets whence the voices came, and pushing aside the leaves, peeped into the little open space where the two men staff in hand were coming slowly together. Ha! Quote little Robinhood to himself, here as a merry sport of foot, now I would give three golden angles from my own pocket if John's stout fellow would give little John a right sound-drubbing. It would please me to see him well thump for having failed in my bidding. I fear me, though, there is but poor chance of my seeing such a pleasant sight. So, saying, he stretched himself at length upon the ground, that he might not only see the sport the better, but that he might enjoy the merry sight at his ease. As you may have seen, two dogs that think to fight walking slowly round and round each other, neither occur wishing to begin the comment so that the two stout young men move slowly around, each watching for a chance to take the other and so get in the first blow. At last, little John struck like a flash, and wrapped the tenor, met the blow and turned it aside, and then smoked back at little John, who also turned the blow, and so this mighty battle began. Then, up and down and back and forth they trod the blows falling so thick and fast that at a distance one would have thought that a half-score of men were fighting. Thus they fought for nigh a half an hour until the ground was all plowed up with digging of their heels, and breathing grew labored like the ox in the furrow. But little John suffered the most, for he had become unused to such stiff labor, and his joints were not as supple as they had been before he went to dwell with the sheriff. All this time, Robinhood lay beneath the bush rejoicing at such a comely bout of quarter-staff. Why, my faith, quote he to himself, never had I thought to see little John so evenly matched in all my life. Be like, though, he would have overcome Janfella before this had and been in a good state. At last little John saw his chance, and, throwing all the strength he felt going from him into one blow that might have felled an ox, he struck at the Tanner with might and mean. And now did the Tanner's cow hide cap stand him in good stead, and but for it he might never have held staff in hand again. As it was, the blow he caught beside the head was so shrewd that it sent him staggering across the little grade so that if little John had had the strength to follow up his vantage it would have been further. But he regained himself quickly, and at arm's length struck a back a blow at little John, and this time the struck reached its mark and down went little John at full length, his cudgel flying from his hand as he fell. Then, raising a staff, Stout Arthur dealt him another blow upon the ribs. Hold, roared little John, whilst thou strike a man when he is down. I, Mary, would I, quote the Tanner giving him another thwack with his staff. Stop, roared little John, help, hold, I say, I yield, I yield me, I say, good fellow. As thou had enough, as the Tanner grimly holding his staff aloft, I, Mary, and more than enough, and thou dost own that I am the better man of the two? Yea, truly, and I'm a reign, seize thee, said little John, the first allowed and the last to his beard. Then thou mayst go thy way and thank thy patron saint that I am a merciful man, said the Tanner. Plague, oh, such mercy as thine, said little John, sitting up and feeling his ribs where the Tanner had cuddled him. I make my vow, my ribs feel as though every one of them were broken in twain. I tell thee, good fellow, I did think there was never a man in all Nottinghamshire could do to me what thou has done this day. And so thought I also, cried Robin Hood, bursting out of the thicket and shouting with laughter till the tears ran down his cheeks. Oh, man, oh, man, said he as well as he could for his mirth. Ah, didst go over like a bottle knocked from a wall. I did see the whole merry bout and never did I think to see the yield thyself. So, hand and foot to any man in all merry England, I was seeking thee to chide thee for leaving my bidding undone, but thou has been paid all I owed, the full measure pressed down and overflowing by this good fellow. Merry, I did reach out his arm full length while thou stood gaping at him, and with a pretty wrap tumbled thee over as never had I seen him before. So spoke bold Robin, and all the time little John sat upon the ground looking as though he had sour curds in his mouth. What may be thy name, good fellow? said Robin, next turning to the tenor. Men, do call me Arthur a blend! spoke up the tenor boldly, and now what may be thy name? Ha! Arthur a blend! growth, Robin, I have heard thy name before, good fellow. Thou disbraked the crown of a friend of mine at the fair at Eli last October. Call him Jack O' Nottingham. We call him Will Scoutlock. This poor fellow whom thou has so bill-labored is counted the best hand at the quarter-staff in all Merry England. His name is Little John, and mine Robin Hood. How! cried the tenor, art thou indeed the great Robin Hood, and this is the famous Little John? Merry, had I known who thou art, I would never have been so bold as to lift my hand against thee. Let me help thee to thy feet, good master Little John, and let me brush the dust from off thy coat. Nay, quote Little John, testily, at the same time rising carefully as though his bones had been made of glass. I can help myself, good fellow, without thy deed, and let me tell thee had it not been for the vile Kelskin cap of thine, it would have been ill for thee this day. At this Robin laughed again, and turning to the tenor he said, Willst thou join my band, good Arthur, for I make my vow thou art one of the stoutest men that ever mine eyes beheld? Will I join thy band? cried the tenor politely. Hey, merry will I, hey, for a merry life! cried he, leaping aloft and snapping his fingers, and hey, for the life I love! Anyway, with Tanbark and filthy vats and foul cowhides, I will follow thee to the ends of the earth, good master, and not a herd of Dundeeer and all the forest, but shall know the sound of the toying of my boasting. As for thee, Little John, said Robin, turning to him and laughing, thou wilt start once more for Ancaster, and will go partway with thee, and will not have thee turn again to either the right hand or the left till thou hast fairly gotten away from Sherwood. There are other ends that thou knowest yet hereabouts. Thereupon, leaving the thickets, they took once more to the highway and departed upon their business. CHAPTER IX Robin Hood and Will Scarlet Thus they travelled along the sunny road, three stout fellows, such as you could hardly match anywhere else in all merry England. Many stopped to gaze after them as they strode along, so broad were their shoulders and so sturdy their gait. Quote Robin Hood to Little John, Why didst thou not go straight to Ancaster yesterday, as I told thee? Thou hadst not gotten thyself into such a coil, hadst thou done as I ordered. I feared the rain that threatened, said Little John in a sullen tone, for he was vexed at being so chaffed by Robin with what had happened to him. The RAIN, cried Robin, stopping at the door of the road, and looking at Little John in wonder. Why, thou great oaf, not a drop of rain has fallen these three days, neither has any threatened, nor hath there been a sign of foul weather in earth, or sky, or water. Nevertheless growled Little John. The holy saints swithin' holdeth the waters of the heavens in his pewter pot, and he could have poured the water of the earth into the water. The holy saints swithin' holdeth the waters of the heavens in his pewter pot, and he could have poured them out had he chosen, even from a clear sky. And wouldst thou have had me wet to the skin? At this Robin Hood burst into a roar of laughter. Oh, Little John, said he, what butter wits hast thou in that head of thine, who could hold anger against such a one as the saying is. After they had travelled some distance, the day being warm and the road dusty, Robin Hood waxed thirsty, so there being a fountain of water as cold as ice just behind the hedgerow, they crossed the style and came to where the water bubbled up from beneath a mossy stone. Here, kneeling and making cups of the palms of their hands, they drank their fill, and then, the spot being cool and shady, they stretched their limbs, and rested them for a space. In front of them, over beyond the hedge, the dusty roads stretched away across the plain. Behind them the meadowlands and bright green fields of tender young corn lay broadly in the sun, and overhead spread the shade of the cool rustling leaves of the beech and tree. Pleasantly to their nostrils came the tender fragrance of the purple time that grew within the dewy moisture of the edge of the little fountain, and pleasantly came the soft gurgle of the water. All was so pleasant and so full of the gentle joy of the bright maytime that for a long time no one of the three cared to speak, but each lay on his back gazing up through the trembling leaves of the trees to the bright sky overhead. At last Robin, whose thoughts were not quite so busy wool-gathering as those of the others, and who had been gazing around him now and then, broke the silence. Hey, day! Quote he. Yon is a gaily feathered bird. I take my vow. The others looked, and saw a young man walking slowly down the highway. Gay was he, indeed, as Robin had said, and a fine figure he cut, for his doublet was scarlet silk, and his stockings also. A handsome sword hung by his side, the embossed leather and scabbard being picked out with fine threads of gold. His cap was of scarlet velvet, and a broad feather hung down behind and back of one ear. His hair was long and yellow and curled upon his shoulders, and in his hand he bore an early rose, which he smelled at daintily now and then. My life! Quote Robin Hood, laughing. Saw you air such a pretty, mincing fellow. Truly his clothes have over much prettiness for my taste. Quote Arthur a bland. But, nevertheless, his shoulders are broad, and his loins are narrow, and cease thou, good master, how that his arms hang from his body. They dangle not down like spindles, but hang stiff and bend at the elbow. I take my vow. There be no bread and milk-limbs in those fine clothes, but stiff joints and tough thews. Me thinks thou art right, friend Arthur, said little John. I do verily think that John is no such rose-leaf and whipped-cream gallant as he would have one take him to be. Pa! Quote Robin Hood, the sight of such a fellow doth put a nasty taste into my mouth. Look how he doth hold that fair flower betwixt his thumb and finger, as he would say, Good rose, I like thee not so ill, but I can bear thy odor for a little while. I take it ye are both wrong, and verily believe that were a furious mouse to run across his path he would cry, La! Or a lackaday, and fall straightway into a swoon. I wonder who he may be. Some great baron's son, I doubt answered little John, with good and true men's money lining his purse. Ay, Mary, that is true, I make no doubt, quote Robin. What a pity that such men as he, that have no thought but to go abroad in gay clothes, should have good fellows whose shoes they are not fit to tie dancing at their bidding. By St. Dunstan, St. Alfred, St. Withold, and all the good men in the Saxon calendar it doth make me mad to see such gay lordlings from over the sea go stepping on the necks of good Saxons, who own this land before ever their great grandsires chewed rind of brawn. By the bright bow of heaven I will have their ill-gotten gains from them, even though I hang for it as high as air a forest tree in Sherwood. Why, how now, master, quote little John, what heat is this? Thou dost set thy pot a-boiling and may have no bacon to cook. Methinks John Fellow's hair is over-light for Norman Locke's. He may be a good man and true, for ought thou knowest. Nay, said Robin. My head against a leaden farthing he is what I say. So, lie ye both here, I say, till I show you how I drub this fellow. So, saying, Robin Hood stepped forth from the shade of the road, crossed the style and stood in the middle of the road with his hands on his hips in the stranger's path. Meantime the stranger, who had been walking so slowly that all this talk was held before he came opposite the place where they were, neither quickened his pace nor seemed to see that such a man as Robin Hood was in the world. So, Robin stood in the middle of the road, waiting while the stranger was walking his rose and looking this way and that and everywhere except at Robin. Hold, cried Robin, when at last the other had come close to him. Hold, stand where thou art. Wherefore should I hold, good fellow? said the stranger in soft and gentle voice. And wherefore should I stand where I am? Nevertheless, as thou dost hire that I should stay, I will abide for a short time that I may hear what thou mayst have to say to me. Then, quote Robin, as thou dost so fairly do as I tell thee and dost give me such soft speech, I will also treat thee with all due courtesy. I would have thee know, fair friend, that I am, as it were, a votary at the shrine of St. Wilfred, who, thou mayst know, took willy-nilly their gold from the heathen and melted it up into candlesticks. Wherefore, upon such as come hereabouts, I levy a certain toll, which I use for better purpose, I hope, than to make candlesticks with all. Therefore, sweet Chuck, I would have thee deliver to me thy purse, that I may look into it and judge, to the best of my poor powers, whether thou hast more wealth about thee than our law allows, for as our good offer swanthold sayeth, he who is fat from overliving must needs lose blood. All this time the youth had been sniffing at the rose that he held betwixt his thumb and finger. Nay, said he, with a gentle smile, when Robin Hood had done, I do love to hear thee talk, thou pretty fellow, and if happily thou art not yet done, finish, I have yet some little time to stay. I have said all, quote Robin, and now if thou wilt give me thy purse, I will let thee go thy way without let-door hindrance, so soon as I shall see what it may hold. I will take none from thee, if thou hast but little. Alas, it doth grieve me much, said the other, that I cannot do as thou dost wish. I have nothing to give thee. Let me go my way, I pretty, I have done thee no harm. Nay, thou goest not, quote Robin, till thou hast shown me thy purse. Good friend, said the other gently, I have business elsewhere, I have given thee much time and have heard thee patiently. Pretty, let me depart in peace. I have spoken to thee, friend, said Robin sternly, and I now tell thee again that thou goest not one step forward till thou hast done as I bid thee. So, saying, he raised his quarter-staff above his head, in a threatening way. Alas, said the stranger, sadly, it doth grieve me that this thing must be. I fear much that I must slay thee, thou poor fellow. So, saying, he drew his sword. Put by thy weapon, quote Robin, I would take no vantage of thee, thy sword cannot stand against an oaken staff such as mine, I could snap it like a barley straw. Yonder is a good oaken thicket by the roadside. Take thee a cudgel fence and defend thyself fairly, if thou hast a taste for a sound drubbing. First the stranger measured Robin with his eye, and then he measured the oaken staff. Thou art right, good fellow, said he presently. Truly my sword is no match for that cudgel of thine. Bid thee a while till I get me a staff. So, saying, he threw aside the rose that he had been holding all this time, thrust his sword back into the scabbard, and, with a more hasty step than he had yet used, stepped to the roadside where grew the little clump of ground oaks Robin had spoken of. Choosing among them he presently found a sapling to his liking. He did not cut it, but, rolling up his sleeves a little way, he laid hold of it, placed his heel against the ground, and, with one mighty pull, plucked the young tree up by the roots from out the very earth. Then he came back, trimming away the roots and tender stems with his sword as quietly as if he had done not to speak of. Little John and the Tanner had been watching all that passed, but when they saw the stranger drag the sapling up from the earth and heard the rending and snapping of its roots, the Tanner pursed his lips together, drawing his breath between them in a long inward whistle. By the breath of my body, said Little John, as soon as he could gather his wits from their wonder, sauced thou that, Arthur, Mary, I think our poor master will stand but an ill chance with young fellow. By our lady he plucked up young green tree as it were a barley straw. Whatever Robin Hood thought, he stood his ground, and now he and the stranger in scarlet stood face to face. Well, did Robin Hood hold his own that day as a mid-country yeoman? This way and that, they fought, and back and forth, Robin's skill against the stranger's strength. The dust of the highway rose up around them like a cloud, so that at times Little John and the Tanner could see nothing, but only hear the rattle of the staves against one another. Thrice Robin Hood struck the stranger, once upon the arm, and twice upon the ribs, and yet he warded all the others' blows, only one of which, had it met its mark, but Robin lower in the dust than he had ever gone before. At last the stranger struck Robin's cudgel so fairly in the middle that he could hardly hold his staff in his hand. Again he struck, and Robin bent beneath the blow. A third time he struck, and now not only fairly beat down Robin's guard, but gave him such a wrap also that down he tumbled into the dusty road. Thrice Robin Hood cried when he saw the stranger raising his staff once more. I yield me. Hold! cried Little John, bursting from his cover with the Tanner at his heels. Hold! Give over, I say. Nay! answered the stranger quietly. If there be two more of you and each as stout is this good fellow, I am like to have my hands full. Nevertheless, come on, and I will strive my best to serve you all. Stop! cried Robin Hood. We will fight no more. I take my vow, this is an ill day for thee and me, Little John. I do verily believe that my wrist and eek my arm are palsied by the jar of the blow that this stranger struck me. Then Little John turned to Robin Hood. Why, how now, good master! said he. How art in an ill plight! Marry, thy jerkin is all befouled with the dust of the road. Let me help thee to arise. A plague on thy aid! cried Robin angrily. I can get to my feet without thy help, good fellow. Nay! but let me at least dust thy coat for thee. I fear thy poor bones are mightily sore. Quote Little John soberly, but with a sly twinkle in his eyes. Give over, I say! Quote Robin, in a fume. My coat hath been dusted enough already without aid of thine. Then, turning to the stranger, he said, What may be thy name, good fellow? My name is Gamwell, answered the other. Ha! cried Robin. Is it even so? I have mere kin of that name. Whence camest thou, fair friend? From Maxfield Town I come, answered the stranger. There I was born and bred, and thence I come to seek my mother's young brother, whom men call Robin Hood. So, if perchance thou mayest direct me, Ha! will Gamwell! cried Robin, placing both hands upon the other's shoulders, and holding him off at arm's length. Surely it can be done. Surely it can be none other. I might have known thee by that pretty maid and heir of thine, that dainty, finicking manner of gait. Thus thou not know me, lad, look upon me well. Now, by the breath of my body, cried the other, I do believe from my heart that thou art mine own Uncle Robin. May certain it is so! And each flung his arms around the other, kissing him upon the cheek. Then once more Robin held his kinsmen off at arm's length, and scanned him keenly from top to toe. Why, how now, quote he, what change is here? Verily some eight or ten years ago I left thee a stripling lad, with great joints and ill-hung limbs, and lo! hear thou art, as tight a fellow as air in eyes upon. Thus thou not remember, lad, how I showed thee the proper way to nip the goose-feather betwixt thy fingers and throw out thy bow-arm steadily. Thou gave great promise of being a keen archer, and thus thou not mine, how I taught thee to fend and parry with the cudgel. Yea, said young Gamwell, and I did so look up to thee, and thought thee so I make my vow, had I known who thou wert I would never have dared to lift hand against thee this day. I trust I did thee no great harm. No, no, quote Robin hastily, and looking sideways at little John, thou didst not harm me, but say no more of that, I privy. Yet I will say, lad, that I hope I may never feel again such a blow as thou didst give me. By our lady, my arm doth tingle yet your nail to elbow. Truly I thought that I was palsied for life. I tell thee, cause, that thou art the strongest man that ever I laid mine eyes upon. I take my vow, I felt my stomach quake when I beheld the pluck-up young green tree as thou didst, but tell me, how camest thou to leave Sir Edward and thy mother? Alas! answered young Gamwell, it is an ill story, uncle, that I have to tell thee. My father Steward, who came to us after all Giles Crookleg died, was ever a saucy varlet, and I know not why my father kept him, saving that he did oversee with great judgment. It used to gall me to hear him speak up so boldly to my father, who thou knowest was ever a patient man to those about him, and slow to anger and harsh words. Well, one day, an ill day it was for that saucy fellow, he sought to berate my father, I standing by. I could stand it no longer, good uncle, so, stepping forth I gave him a box of the ear, and, wouldst thou be leave it, the fellow straight away died out. I think they said I broke his neck or something other like, so off they packed me to seek thee and escape the law. I was on my way when thou sauced me, and here I am. Well, by the faith of my heart, quote Robin Hood, for any one escaping the law thou was taking it the most easily that ever I beheld in all my life. Whenever did any one in all the world see one who had slain a man and was escaping because of it, tripping along the highway like a dainty court damsel, sniffing at a rose the while. Nay, uncle, answered Will Gamwell, over haste never churned good butter, as the old saying hath it. Moreover, I do verily believe that this overstrength of my body hath taken the nimbleness out of my heels. Why, thou didst, but just now wrap me thrice, and I thee never a once, save by overbearing thee by my strength. Nay, quote Robin, let us say no more on that score. I am right glad to see thee, Will, and thou wilt add great honour and credit to my band of merry fellows. But thou must change thy name, for warrants will be out presently against thee. So, because of thy gay clothes, thou shalt henceforth, and for I, be called Will Scarlet. Will Scarlet, quote little John, stepping forward and reaching out his great palm, which the other took. Will Scarlet, the name fiteth thee well, right glad am I to welcome thee among us. I am called little John, and this is a new member who has just joined us, a stout tanner named Arthur Abland. Thou art like to achieve fame, Will, let me tell thee, for there will be many a merry ballad sung about the country, and many a merry story told in Sherwood of how Robin Hood taught little John and Arthur Abland the proper way to use the quarterstaff. Likewise, as it were, he spit off so large a piece of cake that he choked on it. Nay, good little John, quote Robin gently, for he liked ill to have such a jest told of him. Why should we speak of this little matter? Prithee, let us keep this day's doings among ourselves. With all my heart, quote little John, but, good master, I thought that thou didst love a merry story, because thou hast so often guessed about a certain increase of fatness on my joints, of flesh gathered by my abiding with the sheriff of Nay, good little John, said Robin hastily, I do bethink me I have said full enough on that score. It is well, quote little John, for in truth I myself have tired of it somewhat. But now I bethink me, thou didst also seem minded to make a jest of the rain that threatened last night, so Nay, then, said Robin hood testily, I was mistaken, I remember me now it did seem to threaten rain. Truly I did think so myself, quote little John. Therefore, no doubt, though dost think it was wise of me to abide all night at the blue bore inn, instead of venturing forth in such stormy weather, dost thou not? A plague of thee and thy doings, cried Robin hood, if thou wilt have it so, thou wert right to abide wherever thou didst choose. Once more it is well, quote little John. As for myself, I have been blind this day, I did not see the drubbed, I did not see the tumble heels overhead in the dust, and if any man says that thou wert I can with a clear conscience rattle his lying tongue past his teeth. Come, cried Robin, biting his nether lip, while the others could not forbear laughing. We will go no farther today, but will return to Sherwood, and thou shalt go to Ancaster another time, little John. So said Robin, for now that his bones were sore he felt as though a long journey would be an ill thing for him. So, turning their backs, we will go no farther today, but will return to Sherwood, and thou shalt go to Ancaster another time, little John. So said Robin, for now that his bones were sore he felt as though a long journey would be an ill thing for him. So said Robin, for now that his bones were sore he felt as though a long journey would be an ill thing for him. So said Robin, for now that his bones were soreций, the merry adventurers of Robinhood by Howard Pyle. CHAPTER X The Adventure with Midge the Millerson when the four yeomans had traveled for a long time toward Sherwood again, high noontime being passed they began to wax hungry, both Robinhood. I would that I had somewhat to eat, a good loaf of white bread, with a piece of snow-white cheese, washed down with a draught of humming ale, were a feast for a king. "'Since thou speakest of it,' said Will Scarlet, me thinks it would not be amiss myself. There is that within me cryeth out, Victuals, good friend, Victuals! I know a house nearby,' said Arthur Abland, and, had I but the money, I would bring ye that ye speak of, to wit, a sweet loaf of bread, a fair cheese, and a skin of brown ale. "'For the matter of that, thou knowest I have money by me, good master,' hoth little John. "'Why so, thou hast, little John,' said Robin. "'How much money will it take, good Arthur, to buy us meat and drink?' "'I think that six broad pennies will buy food and now for a dozen men,' said the tanner. "'Then give him six pennies, little John,' quote Robin, "'for me thinks food for three men will about fit my need. "'Now get thee gone, Arthur, with the money, and bring the food here, "'for there is a sweet shade in that thicket yonder beside the road, "'and there will we eat our meal.' "'So little John gave Arthur the money, and the others stepped to the thicket, "'there to await the return of the tanner. "'After a time he came back, bearing with him a great brown loaf of bread, "'and a fair round cheese, and a goatskin full of stout March beer slung over his shoulders. "'Then Will Scarlett took his sword and divided the loaf and the cheese "'into four fair portions, and each man helped himself. "'Then Robin Hood took a deep pull at the beer. "'A-ha!' said he, drawing in his breath. "'Never have I tasted sweeter drink than this.' "'After this no man spake more, but each munched away at his bread "'and cheese lustily, with ever an anana pull at the beer.' "'At last Will Scarlett looked at a small piece of bread he still held in his hand, "'and, quote he, "'me thinks I will give this to the Sparrows. "'So, throwing it from him, he brushed the crumbs from his jerkin. "'I, too, quote Robin, have had enough, I think. "'As for little John and the tanner, they had by this time eaten "'every crumb of their bread and cheese.' "'Now, quote Robin, I do feel myself another man and would fain enjoy "'something pleasant before going further upon our journey. "'I do b'think me, Will, that thou didst use to have a pretty voice "'and one that tuned sweetly upon a song. "'Prithee, give us one air, we journey farther.' "'Truly I do not mind turning a tune,' answered Will Scarlett, "'but I would not sing alone. "'Nay, others will follow, strike a blad, quote Robin.' "'In that case, tis well,' said Will Scarlett. "'I do call to mind a song that a certain minstrel used to sing "'in my father's hall upon occasion. "'I know no name for it and so can give you none, but thus it is.' "'Then, clearing his throat, he sang.' "'In the merry blossom-time, when love longings food the breast, "'when the flower is on the lime, when the small fowl builds her nest, "'sweetly sings the nightingale. "'And the thrussel cock so bold, cuckoo in the dewy dale, "'and the turtle in the word, but the Robin I love dear, "'for he singeth through the year.' "'Robin, Robin, merry Robin, so I'd have my true love be, "'not to fly at the nigh, sign of cold adversity. "'When the spring brings sweet delights, "'when aloft the lark dost rise, "'lovers, wood of mellownights, and youths peep in maiden's eyes, "'that time blooms the eglentine. "'Daisies pied upon the hill, cowslips, fair and columbine, "'dusky violets by the rill, but the ivy green cloth grow, "'when the north wind bringeth snow. "'Ivy, ivy staunch and true, thus I'd have her love to be, "'not to die at the nigh, breath of cold adversity.' "'Tis well sung,' quote Robin, but cousin, I tell thee plain, "'I would rather hear a stout fellow like thee sing some lusty ballad "'than a finicky stong of flowers and birds, and what not. "'Yet thou did sing it fair, and tis none so bad a snatch of a song "'for the matter of that. "'Now, Tanner, it is thy turn.' "'I know not,' quote Arthur, smiling, with his head on one side, "'like a budding lass that is asked to dance. "'I know not that I can match our sweet friend's song. "'Moreover, I do verily think that I have caught a cold "'and have a certain tickling and huskiness in the windpipe. "'Nay, sing up friend, both little John, who sat next to him, "'padding him upon the shoulder. "'Thou hast a fair round mellow voice. "'Let us have a touch of it.' "'Nay, and ye will have a poor thing,' said Arthur. "'I will do my best.' "'Have ye ever heard of the wooing of Sir Keith, "'the stout young Cornish Knight, in good King Arthur's time? "'Me thinks I have heard somewhat of it,' said Robin. "'But, nevertheless, strike up thy diddy and let us hear it, "'for, as I do remember me, it is a gallant song, "'so out with it, good fellow.' "'Thereupon, clearing his throat, "'the Tanner, without more ado, began to sing, "'the wooing of Sir Keith.' "'King Arthur sat in his royal hall, "'and about on either hand was many a noble lordling tall, "'the greatest in the land. "'Sat Lancelot with his raven locks, "'Gowen with golden hair, Sir Tristram Kay, "'who kept the locks and many another there. "'And through the stained windows bright, "'from o'er the red-towed eaves, "'the sunlight blazed with colored light "'on golden helms and greaves. "'But suddenly a silence came about the table-round, "'for up the hall there walked a dame, "'bent nigh upon the ground. "'Her nose was hooked, her eyes were bleared, "'her locks were lank and white. "'Upon her chin there grew a beard, "'she was a gruesome sight.' "'And so with crawling steps she came "'and kneeled at Arthur's feet, "'Quoth Kay, she is the foulest dame "'that ere my sight did greet. "'O mighty king, of thee I crave a boon unbended knee. "'Twas thus she spoke, "'What wouldst thou have, "'Quoth Arthur, king of me?' "'Quoth she, I have a foul disease, "'doth gnaw my very heart, "'and but one thing can bring me ease "'or cure my bitter smart. "'There is no rest, no ease for me, "'north east or west or south, "'till Christian night will willingly thrice kiss me "'on the mouth. "'Nor wedded may this child have been "'that giveth ease to me. "'Nor may he be constrained, I wean, "'but kiss me willingly. "'So is there here one Christian night "'of such a noble strain "'that he will give a tortured white sweet ease "'of mortal pain? "'A wedded man,' quoth Arthur, king, "'a wedded man I be, "'else would I deem it noble thing "'to kiss thee willingly.' "'Now, Lancelot, in all men's sight, "'thou art the head and chief of chivalry, "'come noble night, and give her quick relief.' "'But Lancelot, he turned aside "'and looked upon the ground, "'for it did sting his haughty pride "'to hear them laugh around. "'Come thou, Sir Tristram,' quoth the king, "'quoth he, it cannot be, "'for near can I my stomach bring "'to do it willingly. "'Will thou, Sir Kay, thou scornful white? "'Quoth Kay, nay, by my troth, "'what noble dame would kiss a night "'that kiss so foul a mouth? "'Will thou, Gowen? "'I cannot, king,' sir Gerend. "'Nay, not I. "'My kiss is no relief could bring "'for sooner would I die. "'Then up and spake the youngest man "'of all about the board. "'Now, such relief as Christian can "'I'll give to her, my lord. "'It was, Sir Keith, a youthful night, "'yet strong of limb and bold, "'with beard upon his chin as light "'as finest threads of gold. "'Quoth Kay, he hath no mistress yet "'that he may call his own. "'But here is one that's quick to get, "'as she herself has shown.' "'He kissed her once, he kissed her twice, "'he kissed her three times, or a wondrous change "'came in a trice, and she was foul no more. "'Her cheeks grew red as any rose, "'her brow as white as lawn, "'her bosom like the winter snows, "'her eyes like those of fawn. "'Her breath grew sweet as summer breeze "'that blows the meadows o'er. "'Her voice grew soft as rustling trees "'and cracked and harsh no more. "'Her hair grew glittering, like the gold, "'her hands as white as milk. "'Her filthy rags, so foul and old, "'were changed to robes of silk. "'In great amaze, the knights did stare, "'quote, Kay, I make my vow, "'if it will please thee, Lady Fair, "'I'll gladly kiss thee now. "'But young Sir Keith kneeled on one knee "'and kissed her robe so fair. "'Oh, let me be thy slave,' said he, "'for none to thee compare. "'She bent her down, she kissed his brow, "'she kissed his lips and eyes. "'Quote, she, thou art my master now, "'my lord, my love, arise. "'And all the wealth that is mine own, "'my lands, I give to thee, "'for never night hath Lady Shown such noble courtesy. "'Bewitched was I in bitter pain, "'but thou hath set me free. "'So now I am myself again. "'I give myself to thee.' "'Yay, truly,' quote Robin Hood, "'when the tanner had made an end of singing, "'it is, as I remember it, a fair diddy, "'and a ballad with a pleasing tune of a song. "'It hath oftentimes seemed to me,' said Will Scarlet, "'that it hath a certain motive in it, "'in such as this, "'that a duty which seemeth to us sometimes ugly and harsh, "'when we do kiss it fairly upon the mouth, so to speak, "'is no such foul thing after all. "'Me thinks thou art right,' quote Robin. "'And contrary wise, that when we kiss a pleasure "'that appeareth gay, it turneth foul to us. "'Is it not so, little John?' "'Truly, such a thing hath brought these sore thumps this day. "'Nay, man, never look down in the mouth. "'Clear thy pipes and sing us a diddy.' "'Nay,' said little John, "'I have none as fair as that Mary Arthur has trolled. "'They are all poor things that I know. "'Moreover, my voice is not in tune today, "'and I would not spoil even a tolerable song "'by ill-singing. "'Upon this all pressed little John to sing, "'so that when he had denied them a proper length of time, "'such as is seemly in one that is asked to sing, "'he presently yielded,' quote he. "'Well, and ye'll have it so. "'I will give you what I can. "'Like to farewell, I have no title to my diddy, "'but thus it runs. "'Oh, lady mine, the spring is here with a hey-nani-nani, "'the sweet-love season of the year with a nini-nini-nani. "'Now lad and lass lie in the grass that groweth green "'with flowers between. "'The buck doth rest, the leaves do start, "'the breeze doth blow, and in all things laugh in. "'Who may, young fellow, be coming along the road?' "'said Robin, breaking into the song. "'I know not, both little John and a surly voice. "'But this, I do know, that it is an ill thing "'to do to check the flow of a good song.' "'Nay, little John,' said Robin, "'be not vexed, I pri thy, but I had been watching him "'coming along, bent beneath that great bag over his shoulder. "'Ever since thou didst begin thy song. "'Look, little John, I pray, and see if thou knowest him. "'Little John looked, whither Robin Hood pointed.' "'Truly,' quote he, after a time. "'I think, young fellow, as a certain young miller, "'I have seen now and then around the edge of Sherwood. "'A poor white, me thinks, to spoil a good song about.' "'Now thou speakest of him,' quote Robin Hood, "'me thinks I myself have seen him now and then. "'Hath he not a mill over, beyond, nodding him town? "'Nay, to the Salisbury Road?' "'Thou art right, that is the man,' said little John. "'A good stout fellow,' quote Robin, "'I saw him crack net O' Bradford's crown about a fortnight since, and never saw I hair lifted more neatly in all my life before. By this time the young miller had come so near that they could see him clearly. His clothes were dusted with flour, and over his back he carried a great sack of meal, bending so as to bring the whole weight upon his shoulders, and across the sack was a thick quarter-staff. His limbs were stout and strong, and he strode upon the dusty road right sturdily with the heavy sack across his shoulders. His cheeks were ruddy as a winter hip, his hair was flaxen in color, and on his chin was a downy growth of flaxen beard. "'A good honest fellow,' quote Robin Hood, "'and such a one as is accredited to English Yeomanry. "'Now, let us have a merry just with him. "'We will forth, as though we were common thieves, "'and pretend to rob him of his honest gains. "'Then we will take him to the forest and give him a feast, "'such as his stomach never held in all his life before. "'We will flood his throat with a good canary, "'and send him home with crowns in his purse "'for every penny he hath. "'What say ye, lads?' "'Truly, it is a merry thought,' said Will Scarlet. "'It is well planned,' quote Little John, "'but all the saints preserve us from any more drubbings this day. "'Merry, my poor bones ache so that I—' "'Pry thee peace, Little John,' quote Robin. "'Thy foolish tongue will get us both well laughed at yet.' "'My foolish tongue forsooth,' wrote Little John to Arthur Abland. "'I would it could keep our master from getting us "'into another coil this day.' "'But now the miller, plodding along the road, "'had come opposite to where the yeoman lay hidden, "'whereupon all four of them ran at him and surrounded him. "'Hold, friend,' cried Robin to the miller, "'whereupon he turned slowly with the weight of the bag "'upon his shoulder, and looked at each in turn, "'all bewildered, for though a good stout man "'his wits did not skip like roasting chestnuts. "'Who bids me stay?' said the miller, "'in a voice deep and gruff, like the growl of a great dog. "'Merry, that do I,' quote Robin, "'and let me tell thee, friend, thou hadst best mine my bidding. "'And who art thou, good friend?' said the miller, "'throwing the great sack of meal from his shoulder to the ground. "'And who are those with thee?' "'We before good Christian men,' quote Robin, "'and would fain help thee by carrying part of thy heavy load. "'I give you all thanks,' said the miller, "'but my bag is none that heavy that I cannot carry it even by myself. "'Nay, thou dost mistake,' quote Robin, "'I meant that thou mightest perhaps have some heavy farthings "'or pence about thee, not to speak of silver and gold. "'Our good gaffer swan-hold, say if that gold "'is an over-heavy burden for a two-legged ass to carry. "'So we would even lift some of this load from thee.' "'Alas!' cried the miller, "'what would ye do to me? "'I have not about me so much as clipped groat. "'Do me no harm, I pray you, but let me depart in peace. "'Moreover, let me tell you that ye are upon Robin Hood's ground, "'and should he find you seeking to rob an honest craftsman, "'he will clip your ears to your heads and scourge you "'even to the walls of knotting him.' "'In truth, I fear Robin Hood no more than I do myself,' quote Jolly Robin. "'Thou must this day give up to me every penny "'thou hast about thee. "'Nay, if thou dost budge an inch, "'I will rattle this staff about thine ears.' "'Nay, smite me not,' cried the miller, "'throwing up his elbow, as though he feared the blow. "'Thou may as search me if thou wilt, "'but thou wilt find nothing upon me, pouch pocket or skin.' "'Is it so?' quote Robin Hood, looking keenly upon him. "'Now I believe that what thou tellest is no true tale. "'If I am not much mistook, "'thou hast somewhat in the bottom of that fat sack of meal. "'Good Arthur, empty the bag upon the ground. "'I warrant thou wilt find a shilling or two in the flower.' "'Alas!' cried the miller, falling upon his knees, "'spoil not all my good meal. "'It can better you not, and will ruin me. "'Spirit, and I will give up the money in the bag.' "'Ha!' quote Robin, nudging will scarlet. "'Is it so? and have I found where thy money lies?' "'Mary, I have a wondrous nose for the blessed image of Good King Harry. "'I thought I smelled gold and silver beneath barley-meal. "'Bring it straight forth, miller!' Then slowly the miller arose to his feet, and slowly and unwillingly he untied the mouth of the bag, and slowly thrust his hands into the meal, and began fumbling about with his arms buried to the elbows in the barley-flower. The others gathered round him, their heads together, looking and wondering what he would bring forth. So they stood, all with their heads, close together gazing down into the sack. But while he pretended to be searching for the money, the miller gathered two great handfuls of meal. "'Ha!' quote he. "'Here they are, the beauties.' Then, as the others leaned still more forward to see what he had, he suddenly cast the meal into their faces, filling their eyes and noses and mouths with the flour, blinding and half choking them. Arthur, a bland, was worse off than any, for his mouth was open, a gape with wonder of what was to come, so that a great cloud of flour flew down his throat, setting him a coughing, till he could scarcely stand. Then, while all four stumbled about, roaring with the smart of the meal in their eyeballs, and while they rubbed their eyes till the tears made great channels on their faces through the meal, the miller seized another handful of flour and another and another, throwing it in their faces, so that even had they a glimmering of light before, they were now as blind as ever a beggar and nodding him shire. While their hair and beards and clothes were as white as snow. Then, catching up his great crab staff, the miller began laying about him as though he were clean gone mad. This way, and that skipped the four, like peas on a drum-head, but they could see neither to defend themselves nor to run away. Thwack! Thwack! went the miller's cudgel across their backs, and at every blow great white clouds of flour rose in the air from their jackets and went drifting down the breeze. Stop! roared Robin at last. Give over, good friend, I am Robin Hood. Thou liest, Thou knave, cried the miller, giving him a wrap on the ribs that sent up a great cloud of flour like a puff of smoke. Stout Robin never robbed an honest tradesman. Ha! Thou wouldest have my money wouldest, Thou! And he gave him another blow. Nay, Thou art not getting thy share, Thou long-legged knave, share and share alike. And he smote little John across the shoulders so that he sent him skipping half across the road. Nay, fear not, it is thy turn now, Blackbeard, and he gave the tanner a crack that made him roar for all his coughing. How now, Red Coat, let me brush the dust from thee! cried he, smiting Will Scarlet. And so he gave them merry words and blows until they could scarcely stand. And whenever he saw one like to clear his eyes, he threw more flour in his face. At last Robin Hood found his horn, and clapping it to his lips blew three loud blasts upon it. Now it chanced that Will Stoutly and a party of Robin's men were in the glade not far from where this merry sport was going forward. Hearing the hubbub of voices and blows it sounded like the noise of a flail in the barn at wintertime, they stopped, listening and wondering what was toward. Both Will Stoutly. Now, if I mistake not, there is some stout battle with cudgels going forward, not far hence. I would fain see this pretty sight. So saying, he and the whole party turned their steps whence the noise came. When they had come near where all the tumult sounded, they heard the three blasts of Robin's bugle horn. Quick! cried young David of Donkischer. Our master is in sore need. So without stopping a moment, they dashed forward with might and mane and burst forth from the covert into the high road. But what a sight was that what they saw. The road was all white with meal, and five men stood there also white with meal from top to toe, for much of the barley flower had fallen back upon the miller. What is thy need, master? cried Will Stoutly, and what doth all this mean? Why, quotes Robin in a mighty passion, young Trader felt low hath come, as nigh slaying me, as near a man in all the world. Hats thou not come quickly, good Stoutly? Thy master had been dead. Heropon, while he and the three others rubbed the meal from their eyes, Will Stoutly and his men brushed their clothes clean, he told them all how he had meant to pass a jest upon the miller, which same had turned so grievously upon them. Quick men seized the vile miller, cried Stoutly, who was nigh choking with laughter, as were the rest. Whereupon several ran upon the stout fellow and seizing him, bound his arms behind his back with bow strings. Ha! cried Robin, when they brought the trembling miller to him. Thou wouldst murder me, wouldst thou? By my faith. Here he stopped and stood, glaring upon the miller grimly. But Robin's anger could not hold. So first his eyes twinkled, then, in spite of all, he broke into a laugh. Now when they saw their master laugh, the yeomen who stood around could contain themselves no longer, and a mighty shout of laughter went up from all. Many could not stand, but rolled upon the ground from pure merriment. What is thy name, good fellow? said Robin at last to the miller, who stood gaping, and as though he were an amaze. Alas, sir, I am Midge, the miller's son, said he in a frightened voice. I make my vow, quote Mary Robin, smiting him upon the shoulder. Thou art the mightiest Midge that ere mine eyes beheld. Now wilt thou leave thy dusty mill and come join my band? By my faith, thou art to stout a man to spend thy days betwixt the hopper and the till. Then truly, if thou dost forgive me for the blows I struck, not knowing who thou wasst, I will join with thee right merrily, said the miller. Then I have gained this day, quote Robin, the three stoutest yeomen in all Nottinghamshire. We will get us away to the Greenwood Tree, and there hold a merry feast in honor of our new friends, and may have a cup or two of good sack and canary may mellow the soreness of my poor joints and bones. Though I warrant, it will be many a day before I am again the man I was. So saying, he turned and led the way, the rest following, and so they entered the forest once more and were lost to sight. So that night all was ablaze with crackling fires in the woodlands, for though Robin and those others spoken of, only accepting Midge the miller's son had many a sore bump and bruise here and there on their bodies, they were still not so sore in the joints that they could not enjoy a jolly feast given all in welcome to the new members of the band. Thus with songs ingesting and laughter that echoed through the deeper and more silent nooks of the forest, the night passed quickly along as such merry times are wont to do, until at last each man sought his couch and silence fell upon all things and all things seemed to sleep. But little John's tongue was ever one that was not easy of guidance. So that inch by inch the whole story of his fight with the Tanner and Robin's fight with Will Scarlett leaked out. And so I have told it that you may laugh at the merry tale along with me. End of chapter 10. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information and to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Merry Adventures of Robinhood by Howard Pyle. Chapter 11, Robinhood and Alan Adele. It has just been told how three unlikely adventures fell upon Robinhood and little John all in one day, bringing them sore ribs and aching bones. So next we will tell how they made up for those ill happenings by a good action that came about not without some small pain to Robin. Two days had passed by and somewhat of the soreness had passed away from Robinhood's joints. Yet still, when he moved of a sudden and without thinking, pain here and there would, as it were, jog him, crying, thou hast had a drubbing good fellow. The day was bright and jokin'd, and the morning dew still lay upon the grass. Under the greenwood tree sat Robinhood. On one side was Will Scarlet, lying at full length upon his back, gazing up into the clear sky, with hands clasped behind his head. Upon the other side sat little John, fashioning a cudgel out of a stout crab tree limb. Elsewhere upon the grass sat or lay many others of the band. By the faith of my heart, quote Mary Robin, I do bethink me that we have had no one to dine with us for this long time. Our money grows low in the purse, for no one hath come to pay a reckoning for many a day. Now busk thee, good stootly, and choose thee six men, and get thee gone to Fosway or Therabots, and see that thou bringest someone to eat with us this evening. Meanwhile, we will prepare a grand feast to do whatsoever may come the greater honor. And stay, good stootly, I would have thee take Will Scarlet with thee, for it is me that he should become a quaint with the ways of the forest. Now do I thank thee, good master, quote stootly, springing to his feet, that thou has chosen me for this adventure. Truly, my limbs do grow slack through abiding idly here, as for two of my six, I will choose Midge the Miller and Arthur a Bland, for, as well thou knowest, good master, they are stout fists at the quarterstaff. Is it not so, little John? At this, all laughed but little John and Robin, who twisted up his face. I can speak for Midge, said he, and likewise for my cousin Scarlet. This very blessed morn I looked upon my ribs, and found them as many colors as a beggar's cloak. So, having chosen four more stout fellows, Will Stootly and his band set forth to Fosway to find whether they might not come across some rich guest to feast that day in Sherwood with Robin and his band. For all the live long day, they abided near this highway. Each man had brought with him a good store of cold meat and a bottle of stout march beer to stay his stomach till the homecoming. So, when high noontime had come, they sat them down upon the soft grass, beneath a green and wide-spreading Hawthorne bush, and held a hearty and jovial feast. After this, one kept watch while the others napped, for it was a still and sultry day. Thus they passed the time pleasantly and now, but no guests such as they desired showed his face in all the time that they lay hidden there. Many passed along the dusty road in the glare of the sun. Now it was a bevy of chattering damsels, merrily tripping along. Now it was a plodding tinker, now a merry shepherd-lad, now a sturdy farmer, all gazing ahead along the road, unconscious of the seven stout fellows that lay hidden so near them. Such were the travelers along the way. But fat Abbott, rich Esquire, or money-laden Eucerer came there none. At last the sun began to sink low in the heavens, the light grew red and the shadows long, the air grew full of silence, the birds twitted sleepily, and from afar came, faint and clear, the musical song of the milkmaid, calling the kind home to the milking. Then stutley arose from where he was lying. A plague of such ill luck, quote he, here have we abided all day, and no bird worth the shooting, so to speak, hath come within reach of our bolt. Had I gone forth on an innocent errand, I had met a dozen stout priests, or a score of Percy Muddeny lenders. But it is ever thus. Then done dear are never so scarce, as when one has a grey goose feather nipped betwixt the fingers. Come, lads, let us pack up and home again, say I. Accordingly the others arose, and, coming forth from out of the thicket, they all turned their toes back again to Sherwood. After they had gone some distance, well stutley, who had at the party, suddenly stopped. Hissed, quote he, for his ears were as sharp as those of a five-year-old fox. Hark, lads, me thinks I hear a sound. At this all stopped and listened with bated breath, albeit for a time they could hear nothing, their ears being duller than stutley's. At length they heard a faint and melancholy sound, like someone in lamentation. Ha, quote Will Scarlet, this must be looked into. There is someone in distress nigh to us here. I know not, quote Will Stutley, shaking his head doubtfully. Our master is ever rash about thrusting his fingers into a boiling pot. But, for my part, I see no use in getting ourselves into mischievous coils. Leon is a man's voice, if I mistake not, and a man should be always ready to get himself out from his own fathers. Then out spoke Will Scarlet boldly. Now out upon thee to talk in that manner, stutley. Stay, if thou dost list. I go to see what may be the trouble of this poor creature. Nay, quote Stutley, thou dost leap so quickly, thou wilt tumble into the ditch. Who said I would not go? Come along, say I. Thus saying, he led the way, the others following, till, after they had gone a short distance, they came to a little opening in the woodland, whence a brook, after gurgling out from under at the tangle of overhanging bushes, spread out into a broad and glassy pebbled pool. By the side of this pool, and beneath the branches of a willow, lay a youth upon his face, weeping aloud, the sound of which had first caught the quick ears of Stutley. His golden locks were tangled, his clothes were all awry, and everything about him beckoned sorrow and woe. Over his head, from the branches of the Osir, hung a beautiful harp of polished wood, and then laid with gold and silver in fantastic devices. Beside him lay a stout ashen bow, and half a score of fair, smooth arrows. Hello! shouted Will Stutley, when they had come out from the forest into the little open spot. Who art thou, fellow, that liest there killing all the green grass with salt water? Hearing the voice, the strangers sprang to his feet, and, snatching up his bow and fitting a shaft, held himself in readiness for whatever ill might befall him. Truly, said one of the yeoman, when they had seen the young stranger's face, I do know that lad right well. He is a certain minstrel that I have seen hereabouts more than once. It was only a week ago I saw him skipping across the hill like a yearling doe. A fine sight he was then, with a flower at his ear, and a cock's plume stuck in his cap. But now me thinks our cockerel is shorn of his gay feathers. Pa! cried Will Stutley, coming up to the stranger. Wipe thine eyes, man. I do hate to see a tall stout fellow so sniveling like a girl of fourteen over a dead tomk-tit. Put down thy bow, man, we mean thee no harm. But Will Scarlet, seeing how the stranger, who had a young and boyish look, was stung by the words that Stutley had spoken, came to him and put his hand upon the youth's shoulder. Nay, thou art in trouble, poor boy, said he kindly. My not what these fellows have said. They are rough, but they mean thee well. May hap they do not understand a lad like thee. Thou shalt come with us, and, per chance, we may find a certain one that can aid thee in thy perplexities, whatsoever they may be. Ye truly come along, said Will Stutley gruffly. I meant thee no harm, and may mean thee some good. Take down thy singing-tool from off this fair tree, and away with us. The youth did as he was bidden, and with bowed head and sorrowful step accompanied the others, walking beside Will Scarlet. So they wended their way through the forest. The bright light faded from the sky, and a glimmering gray fell over all things. From the deeper recesses of the forest, the strange, whispering sounds of the nighttime came to the ear. All else was silent, saving only for the rattling of their footsteps amidst the crisp, dry leaves of the last winter. At last a ruddy glow shone before them here and there through the trees. A little farther, and they came to the open glade, now bathed in the pale moonlight. In the center of the open crackled a great fire, throwing a red glow on all around. At the fire were roasting juicy steaks of venison, pheasants, capons, and fresh fish from the river. All the air was filled with the sweet smell of good things cooking. The little band made its way across the glade, many yeoman turning with curious looks and gazing after them, but none speaking or questioning them. So with Will Scarlet upon one side and Will Stutley upon the other, the stranger came to where Robin Hood sat on a seat of moss under the greenwood tree, with little John standing beside him. Good even, fair friend, said Robin Hood, rising as the other drew near, and hast thou come to feast with me this day? Alas, I know not, said the lad, looking around him with dazed eyes, for he was bewildered with all that he saw. Truly, I know not whether I be in a dream, he said to himself in a low voice. Nay, Mary, quotes Robin, laughing, thou art awake, as thou wilt presently find, for a fine feast is a cooking for thee. Thou art our honoured guest this day. Still, the young stranger looked about him, as though in a dream. Presently, he turned to Robin. Me thinks, said he, I know now where I am and what hath befallen me, art not thou the great Robin Hood? Thou hast hit the bull's eye, quotes Robin, clapping him upon the shoulder. Men hereabouts do call me by that name. Since thou knowest me, thou knowest also that he who feasteth with me must pay his reckoning. I trust thou hast a full purse with thee, fair stranger. Alas, said the stranger, I have no purse, nor no money, either, saving only the half of a sixpence. The other half of which, my own dear love, doth carry in her bosom, hung about her neck by a strand of silken thread. At this speech, a great shout of laughter went up from those around, where at the poor boy looked as if he would die of shame. But Robin Hood turned sharply to Will Stootley. Why, how now, quote he, is this the guest that thou hast brought us to fill our purse? Me thinks thou hast brought but a lean cock to the market. Nay, good master, answered Will Stootley grinning, he is no guest of mine, it was Will Scarlet that brought him thither. Then up spoke Will Scarlet, and told how they had found the lad in sorrow, and how he had brought him to Robin, thinking that he might perchance aid him in his trouble. Then Robin Hood turned to the youth, and placing his hand upon the other's shoulder, held him off at arm's length, scanning his face closely. A young face, quote he in a low voice, hath to himself. A kind face, a good face. Tis like a maidens, for purity, and with all the ferris that air-mine eyes did see. But if I may judge fairly by thy looks, grief cometh to young as well as to old. At these words, spoken so kindly, the poor lad's eyes brimmed up with tears. Nay, nay, said Robin hastily, cheer up, lad, I warrant thy case is not so bad that it cannot be mended. What may be thy name? Alan Adale is my name, good master. Alan Adale, repeated Robin, musing. Alan Adale, it doth seem to me that the name is not altogether strange to mine ears. Yay, surely, thou art the minstrel of whom we have been hearing lately, whose voice so charmeth all men. Does thou not come from the dale of Rotherstream over beyond stavely? Yay, truly answered Alan, I do come thence. How old art thou, Alan, said Robin? I am but twenty years of age. Me thinks thou art over-young to be perplexed with trouble, quoth Robin kindly. Then, turning to the others, he cried, Come, lads, bust ye and get our feast ready. Only thou wilt scarlet, and thou little John, stay here with me. Then, when the others had gone, each man about his business, Robin turned once more to the youth. Now, lad, said he, tell us thy troubles and speak freely. A flow of words doth ever ease the heart of sorrows. It is like opening the waste-ware when the mill-dam is over-full. Come, sit thou here beside me and speak at thine ease. Then straight away the youth told the three yeomen, all that was in his heart. At first, in broken words and phrases, then freely and with greater ease when he saw that all listened closely to what he said. So he told them how he had come from York, to the sweet veil of Rother, traveling the country through as a minstrel, stopping now at Castle, now at Hall, now at a farmhouse, how he had spent one sweet evening in a certain broad, low farmhouse, where he sang before a stout Franklin and a maiden as pure and lovely as the first snow drop of spring. How he had played and sung to her, and how sweet Ellen of the Dale had listened to him and had loved him. Then in a low sweet voice, scarcely louder than a whisper, he told them he had watched for her and met her now and then when she went abroad, but was all too afraid in her sweet presence to speak to her. Until at last, beside the banks of Rother, he had spoken of his love and she had whispered that which made his heartstrings quiver for joy. Then they broke a sixpence between them and vowed to be true to one another forever. Next, he told how her father had discovered what was it doing and had taken her away from him so that he never saw her again and his heart was sometimes like to break. How this mourn, only one short month and a half from the time he had seen her last, he had heard and knew it to be so that she was to marry old Sir Stephen of Trent two days hence, for Ellen's father thought it would be a grand thing to have his daughter marry so high, albeit she wished it not. Nor was it wonder that a knight should wish to marry his own sweet love, who is the most beautiful maiden in all the world. To all this, the yeoman listened in silence, the clatter of many voices justing and laughing, sounding around them and the red light of the fire shining on their faces and in their eyes. So simple were the poor boy's words and so deep his sorrow that even little John felt a certain naughty lump rise in his throat. I wonder not, said Robin, after a moment's silence, that thy true love loved thee, for thou hast surely a silver cross beneath thy tongue, even like good St. Francis, that could charm the birds of the air by his speech. By the breath of my body, burst forth little John, seeking to cover his feelings with angry words, I have a great part of a mind to go straightway and cudgel the nasty life out of the body of that some vile Sir Stephen. Mary, come up, say I, what a plague! Does an old weasen think that tender lasses are to be bought like bullets on Market Day? Out upon him, aye, but no matter, only let him look to himself. Then up spoke Will Scarlet. He thinks it seemeth but ill done of the lass that she should so quickly change at other's bidding, more especially when it cometh to the marrying of a man as old as this same Sir Stephen. I like it not in her, Allen. Nay, said Allen hotly, thou dost wrong her. She is as soft and gentle as a stocked of. I know her better than anyone in all the world. She may do her father's bidding, but if she marries Sir Stephen, her heart will break and she will die. My own, sweet dear, aye. He stopped and shook his head, for he could say nothing further. While the others were speaking, Robin Hood had been sunk in thought. Me thinks I have a plan might fit thy case, Allen, said he. But tell me first, think as thou lad that thy true love hath spirit enough to marry thee, were ye together in church, the bands published and the priest found? Even were her father to say her nay? Aye, Mary would she? cried Allen eagerly. Then, if her father be the man that I take him to be, I will undertake that he shall give you both his blessing as wedded man and wife in the place of old Sir Stephen and upon his wedding mourn. But stay. Now, I bethink me, there is one thing reckoned not upon the priest. Truly, those of the cloth do not love me over much, and when it comes to doing as I desire in such a matter, they are as like as not to prove stiff-necked. As to the lesser clergy, they fear to do me a favor because of abbot or bishop. Nay, quoth bull Scarlet laughing, so far as that goeth, I know of a certain friar that, couldst thou but get on the soft side of him, would do thy business, even though Pope Joan herself stood forth to ban him. He is known as the Kurtle friar of Fountain Abbey, and Dwelleth in Fountain Dale. But, quoth Robin, Fountain Abbey is a good hundred miles from here. As we would help this lad, we have no time to go thither and back before his true love will be married, not as to be gained there, cause. Yay, quoth Wolf Scarlet laughing again, but this Fountain Abbey is not so far away as the one of which thou speaketh, uncle. The Fountain Abbey of which I speak is no such rich and proud place as the other, but a simple little cell, yet with all as cozy a spot as ever stout anchorate dwelt within. I know the place well, and can guide thee thither, for, though it is a goodly distance, yet me thinks a stout pair of legs could carry a man there and back in one day. Then give me thy hand, Alan, cried Robin, and let me tell thee, I swear by the bright hair of St. Alfreda that this time, two days hence, Alan O'Dale shall be thy wife. I will seek this same fryer of Fountain Abbey tomorrow day, and I warrant I will get upon the soft side of him, even if I have to drub one soft. At this will Scarlet laugh again. Be not too sure of that, good uncle, quoth he. Nevertheless, from what I know of him, I think this curtled fryer will gladly join two such fair lovers, more especially if there be good eating and drinking a foot thereafter. But now one of the band came to say that the feast was spread upon the grass. So, Robin leading the way, the others followed to where the goodly feast was spread. Mary was the meal, jest and story passed freely, and all laughed till the forest rang again. Alan laughed with the rest, for his cheeks were flushed with the hope that Robin Hood had given him. At last the feast was done, and Robin Hood turned to Alan, who sat beside him. Now, Alan, quoth he, so much has been said of thy singing, that we would feign have a taste of thy skill ourselves. Can't thou not give us something? Surely, answered Alan readily, for he was no third-rate songster that must be asked again and again, but said yes or no at the first bidding. So, taking up his harp, he ran his fingers lightly over the sweet-sounding strings, and all was hushed about the cloth. Then, backing his voice with sweet music on his harp, he sang, May Alan's wedding, giving an account of how she was beloved by a fairy prince who took her to his own home. May Alan sat beneath a thorn, and in a shower around, the blossoms fell at every breeze, like snow upon the ground. And in a lime-tree, near was heard, the sweet song of a strange wild bird. Oh, sweet, sweet, sweet, oh, piercing sweet, o' lingering sweet, the strain, may Alan's heart within her breast stood still with blissful pain. And so, with listening, upturned face, she sat as dead in that fair place. Come down from the blossoms, bird, come down from out the tree, and on my heart I'll let thee lie and love thee tenderly. Thus cried May Alan, soft and low, from whence the hawthorn shed its snow. Down dropped the bird on quivering wing, from out the blossoming tree, and nestled in her snowy breast, my love, my love, cried she. Then straightway home, mid-sun and flower, she bore him to her own sweet bower. The day hath passed to mellow night, the moon floats o'er the lee, and in its solemn pallid light, a youth stands silently, a youth of beauty strange and rare, within May Alan's bower there. He stood where o'er the pavement cold, the glimmering moonbeams lay. May Alan gazed with wide, scared eyes, nor could she turn away, for, as in mystic dreams we see, a spirit stood he silently. All in a low and breathless voice, whence come as thou, said she, art thou the creature of a dream, or a vision that I see? Then soft spake he, as night winds shiver, through straining reeds beside the river. I came, a bird on feathered wing, from distant fairy-land, where murmuring waters softly sing upon the golden strand, where sweet trees are forever green, and there my mother is the queen. No more may Alan leaves her bower to grace the blossoms fair, but in the hushed and midnight hour, they hear her talking there, or when the moon is shining white, they hear her singing through the night. Oh, down thy silks and jewels fine, may Alan's mother said, for hither comes the Lord of line, and thou this Lord must wed. May Alan said, it may not be, he near shall find his wife in me. Up, spoke her brother, dark and grim, now by the bright blue sky, ere yet a day hath gone for him, thy wicked bird shall die, for he hath wrought thee bitter harm by some strange art or cunning charm. Then, with a sad and mournful song, away the bird did fly, and o'er the castle eaves, and through the gray and windy sky, come forth, then cried the brother grim, why dost thy gaze so after him? It is May Alan's wedding day, the sky is blue and fair, and many a Lord and Lady Gay in church are gathered there. The bridegroom was Sir Hugh the Bold, all clad in silk and cloth of gold. In came the bride in Samite white, with a white wreath on her head, her eyes were fixed with a glassy look, her face was as the dead, and when she stood among the throng, she sang a wild and wondrous song. Then came a strange and rushing sound, like the coming wind doth bring, and in the open windows shot nine swans on whistling wing, and high above the heads they flew, in gleaming fight the darkness threw. Around May Alan's head they flew, in wide and windy fight, and three times round the circle drew, the guests shrank in a fright, and the priest beside the altar there did cross himself with muttered prayer. But the third time they flew around, Fair Alan straight was gone, and in her place upon the ground, there stood a snow-white swan. Then with a wild and lovely song, it joined the swift and winged throng. There's ancient men at Wedding's bin, for sixty years and more, but such a wondrous wedding day they never saw before. But none could check, and none could stay, the swans that bore the bride away. Not a sound broke the stillness when Alan Adale had done, but all sat gazing at the handsome singer, for so sweet was his voice and the music, that each man sat with bated breath, lest one drop more should come, and he should lose it. By my faith and my trove, both Robin at last, drawing a deep breath, lad, thou art, thou must not leave our company, Alan. Will thou not stay with us here in the sweet green forest? Truly I do feel my heart go out toward thee with great love. Then Alan took Robin's hand and kissed it. I will stay with thee always, dear master, said he, for never have I known such kindness as thou has shown me this day. Then Will Scarlett stretched forth his hand and shook Alan's in token of friendship, as did little John likewise, and thus the famous Alan Adale became one of Robin Hood's band. End of Chapter 11. The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle Chapter 12 Robin Hood Seeks the Curtle Friar The stout yeoman of Sherwood Forest were ever early risers of a morn, more especially when the summer time had come, for then in the freshness of the dawn the dew was always the brightest, and the song of the small birds the sweetest. Quote Robin, Now will I go to seek the same friar of fountain abbey of whom we spake yesterday night, and will take with me four of my good men, and these four shall be little John, Will Scarlett, David of Doncaster, and Arthur Ablan, buy the rest of you here, and Will Stootley shall be your chief while I am gone. Then straightway Robin Hood donned a fine steel coat of chain mail, over which he put on a light jacket of Lincoln Green. Upon his head he clapped a steel cap, and this he covered by one of soft white leather, in which stood a nodding cocks plume. By his side he hung a good broadsword of tempered steel, the bluish blade marked all over with strange figures of dragons, winged women, and what not. A gallant sight was Robin so arrayed, I watched the glint of steel showing here and there as the sunlight caught brightly the links of polished mail that showed beneath his green coat. So having arrayed himself, he and the four yeoman set forth upon their way, Will Scarlett taking the lead, for he knew better than the others wither to go. Thus mile after mile they strode along, now across a brawling stream, now along a sunlit road, now a down some sweet forest path, over which the trees met in green and rustling canopy, and at the end of which a herd of startled deer dashed away, with rattle of leaves and crackle of branches. Onward they walked with song and jest and laughter, till noontide was passed, when at last they came to the banks of a wide, glassy, and lily-padded stream. Here a broad, beaten path stretched along beside the banks, on which path labored the horses that tugged at the slow-moving barges laden with barley-meal, or what-not, from the countryside to the many-towered town. But now, in the hot silence of the midday, no horse was seen nor any man besides themselves. Behind them and before them stretched the river, its placid bosom ruffled here and there by the purple dusk of a small breeze. Now good uncle, quote Will Scarlett at last, when they had walked for a long time beside this sweet bright river. Just beyond yond bend ahead of us is a shallow ford, which in no place is deeper than night mid-thigh, and upon the other side of the stream is a certain little hermitage, hidden amidst the bosky tangle of the thickets, wherein dwelleth the fryer of Fountaindale. Thither will I lead thee, for I know the way, albeit it is not over-hard to find. Nay, quote Jolly Robin, stopping suddenly, had I thought that I should have had to wade water, even were it so crystal-less stream as this, I had dawned other clothes than I have upon me. But no matter now, for after all a wetting will not wash the skin away, and what must be must. But by jhe here, lads, for I would enjoy this merry adventure alone. Nevertheless, listen well, and if you hear me sound upon my bugle-horn, come quickly. So saying he turned and left them striding onward alone. Robin had walked no farther than where the bend of the road hid his good men from his view, when he stopped suddenly, for he thought that he heard voices. He stood still and listened, and presently heard words passed back and forth betwixt what seemed to be two men, and yet the two voices were wondrously alike. The sound came from over behind the bank, that here was steep and high, dropping from the edge of the road a half a score of feet to the sedgy verge of the river. Tis strange muttered Robin to himself after his face, when the voices had ceased their talking. Surely there be two people that spoke the one to the other, and yet me thinks their voices are mightily alike. I make my vow that never have I heard the like in all my life before. Truly, if this twain are to be judged by their voices, no two peas were ever more alike. I will look into this matter. So saying he came softly to the river bank, and laying him down upon the grass, peered over the edge and down below. All was cool and shady beneath the bank. A stout Ossier grew, not straight upward, but leaning across the water, shadowing the spot with its soft foliage. All around grew a mass of feathery ferns, such as hide and nestle in cool places, and up to Robin's nostrils came the tender odor of the wild time that loves the moist verges of running streams. Here, with his broad back against the rugged trunk of the willow tree, and half hidden by the soft ferns around him, sat a stout, brawny fellow, but no other man was there. His head was as round as a ball, and covered with a mat of close clipped, curly, black hair, that grew low down on his forehead. But his crown was shorn as smooth as the palm of one's hand, which, together with his loose robe, cowl, and string of beads, showed that which his looks never would have done, that he was a friar. His cheeks were as red and shining as a winter crab, albeit they were nearly covered over with a close, curly, black beard, as were his chin and upper lip likewise. His neck was thick like that of a North Country bull, and his round head closely set upon shoulders in a match for those of little John himself. Beneath his bushy black brows danced a pair of little gray eyes that could not stand still for very drollery of humor. No man could look into his face and not feel his heartstrings tickled by the merriment of their look. By his side lay a steel cap, which he had laid off for the sake of the coolness to his crown. His legs were stretched wide apart, and betwixt his knees he held a great pasty, compounded of juicy meats of diverse kinds, made savory with tender young onions, both meat and onions being mingled with a good rich gravy. In his right fist he held a great piece of brown crust, at which he munched sturdily, and every now and then he thrust his left hand into the pie and drew it forth full of meat. Anon he would take a mighty pull at a great bottle of Malmsey that lay beside him. By my faith, quote Robin to himself, I do verily believe that this is the merriest feast, the merriest white, the merriest place, and the merriest sight in all merry England. Me thought there was another here, but it must have been this holy man talking to himself. So Robin lay watching the friar, and the friar, all unknowing that he was so overlooked, ate his meal placidly. At last he was done, and having first wiped his greasy hands upon the ferns in wild time, and sweeter napkin and airhead king in all the world, he took up his flask and began talking to himself as though he were another man, and answering himself as though he were somebody else. Dear lad, thou art the sweetest fellow in all the world. I do love thee as a lover loveth his lass. La, thou dost make me shame to speak so to me in the solitary place, no one being by, and yet if thou wilt have me say so, I do love thee as thou lovest me. Nay, then, wilt thou not take a drink of good Malmsey? After thee, lad, after thee. Nay, I beseech thee, sweeten the draught with thy lips. Here he passed the flask from his right hand to his left. And thou wilt force it on me so, I must needs do thy bidding, yet with the more pleasure do I so as I drink thy very great health. Here he took a long, deep draught. And now, sweet lad, tis thy turn next. Here he passed the bottle from his left hand back again to his right. I take it, sweet chuck, and here's wishing thee as much good as thou wishest me. Saying this he took another draught, and truly he drank enough for two. All this time Mary Robin lay upon the bank and listened, while his stomach so quaked with laughter that he was forced to press his palm across his mouth to keep it from bursting forth. For truly he would not have spoiled such a goodly jest for the half of nodding him shyre. Having gotten his breath from his last draught, the friar began talking again in this wise, No, sweet lad, canst thou not sing me a song? La, I know not, but I am in but ill voice this day. Pray thee, ask me not. Does thou not hear how I croak like a frog? Nay, nay, thy voice is as sweet as any bullfinch. Come, sing, I prithee. I would rather hear thee sing than eat a fair feast. Alas! I would feign not sing before one that can pipe so well, and hath heard so many goodly songs and ballads. Nair less, and thou wilt have it so, I will do my best. But now me thinks that thou and I might sing some fair song together. Does thou not know a certain dainty little catch called the Loving Youth and the Scornful Maid? Why, truly me thinks I have heard it air now. Then does thou not think that thou couldst take the lass's part if I take the lads? I know not, but I will try. Begin thou with the lad, and I will follow with the lass. Then singing first with a voice deep in gruff, and a gnawn in one high in squeaking, he blightly trolled the merry catch of the Loving Youth and the Scornful Maid. Ah, it's wilt thou come with me, my love, and it's wilt thou love be mine, for I will give unto thee my love, say not, and ribbon so fine. I'll woo thee, love, on my bended knee, and I'll pipe sweet songs to none but thee. Then it's hark, hark, hark, to the winged lark, and it's hark to the cooing dove, and the bright daffodil groweth down by the rill, so come thou, and be my love. Now get thee away, young man, so fine, now get thee away, I say, for my true love shall never be thine, and so thou hadst better not stay. Thou art not a fine enough lad for me, but wait till a better young man I see, for it's hark, hark, hark, to the winged lark, and it's hark to the cooing dove, and the bright daffodil groweth down by the rill, yet never I'll be thy love. Then straight will I seek for another fair she, for many a maid can be found, and as thou wilt never have ought of me, by thee will I never be bound, for never is a blossom in the field so rare, but others are found that are just as fair. So it's hark, hark, hark, to the joyous lark, and it's hark to the cooing dove, and the bright daffodil groweth down by the rill, and I'll seek me another dear love. Young man, turn not so very quick away, another fair lass to find, me thinks I've spoken in haste to-day, nor have I made up my mind, and if thou wilt only stay with me, I'll love no other sweet lad but thee. Here Robin could contain himself no longer, but burst forth into a mighty roar of laughter. Then the holy friar, keeping on with the song, he joined in the chorus, and together they sang, or as one might say, bellowed, so it's hark, hark, hark, to the joyous lark, and it's hark to the cooing dove, for the bright daffodil groweth down by the rill, and I'll be thine own true love. So they sang together, for the stout friar did not seem to have heard Robin's laughter. Neither did he seem to know that the yeoman had joined in with the song, but with eyes half closed, looking straight before him, and wagging his round head from side to side in time to the music, he kept on bravely to the end, he and Robin finishing up with a mighty roar that might have been heard a mile. But no sooner had the last word been sung than the holy man seized his steel cap, clapped it on his head, and springing to his feet cried in a great voice, What spa have we here? Come forth thou limb of evil, and I will carve thee into his fine pudding meat as ere a wife in Yorkshire cooked of a Sunday. Hereupon he drew from beneath his robes a great broadsword full as stout as was Robin's. In a, putting up thy pinking iron friend, quote Robin, standing up with the tears of laughter still in his cheeks, folk who have sung so sweetly together should not fight thereafter. Hereupon he leaped down the bank to where the other stood. I tell thee, friend, said he, my throat is as parched with that song as ere a barley stubble in October. Has thou happily any mums he left in that stout pottle? Truly, said the friar in a glum voice, thou dost ask thyself freely where thou art not bidden. Yet I trust I am too good a Christian to refuse any man drink that is a thirst. Such as there is ought thou art welcome to a drink of the same. And he held the pottle out to Robin. Robin took it without more ado, and putting it to his lips, tilted his head back, while that which with was in said, glug, lug, glug, for more than three winks I wot. The stout friar watched Robin anxiously the while, and when he was done took the pottle quickly. He shook it, held it betwixt his eyes, and the light looked reproachfully at the yeoman, and straightaway placed it at his own lips. When it came away again, there was not within it. Does thou know the country hereabouts thou good and holy man? asked Robin, laughing. Ye, somewhat, answered the other dryly, and dost thou know of a certain spot called Fountain Abbey? Ye, somewhat. And perchance thou notes also of a certain one who goeth by the name of the curtled friar of Fountain Abbey? Ye, somewhat. Well then, good fellow, holy father, or whatever thou art, quote Robin, I would know whether this same friar is to be found upon this side of the river or the other. That, quote the friar, is a practical question upon which the cunning rules appertaining to logic touch not. I do advise thee to find that out by the aid of thine own five senses, sight, feeling, and what not. I do wish much, quote Robin, looking thoughtfully at the stout priest, to cross yon forward and strive to find the same good friar. Truly, said the other piously, it is a goodly wish on the part of one so young. Carb yet for me to check thee in so holy a quest. Friend, the river is free to all. Ye, good father, said Robin, but thou seeest that my clothes are of the finest, and I feign would not get them wet. Me thinks thy shoulders are stout and broad. Couldst thou not find it in thy heart to carry me across? Now by the white hand of the holy lady of the fountain burst forth the friar in a mighty rage. Does thou, thou poor puny stripling, thou kiss my lady la popping jay, thou, thou, what shall I call thee? Does thou ask me, the holy talk, to carry thee? Now I swear. Here he paused suddenly, then slowly the anger passed from his face, and his little eyes twinkled once more. But why should I not, quote he piously? Did not the holy Saint Christopher ever carry the stranger across the river, and should I, poor sinner, that I am, be ashamed to do likewise? Come with me, stranger, and I will do thy bidding in a humble frame of mind. So saying, he clamored up the bank, closely followed by Robin, and led the way to the shallow, pebbly Ford, chuckling to himself the while, as though he were enjoying some goodly jest within himself. Having come to the Ford, he girded up his robes about his loins, tucked his good broadsword beneath his arm, and stooped his back to take Robin upon it. Suddenly he straightened up. Me, thanks, quote he, thou to get thy weapon wet, let me tuck it beneath my arm, along with my own. Nay, good father, said Robin, I would not burden thee with odd of mine, but myself. Just thou, thanks, of the fryer, mildly, that the good Saint Christopher would have sought his own ease so, nay, give me thy tool as I bid thee, for I would carry it as a penance to my pride. Upon this, without more ado, Robin hood unbuckled his sword from his side, and handed it to the other, who thrust it with his own beneath his arm. Then once more the fryer bent his back, and, Robin having mounted upon it, he stepped sturdily into the water, and so strode onward, splashing in the shoal, and breaking all the smooth surface into ever-widening rings. At last he reached the other side, and Robin leaped lightly from his back. Me, thanks, good father, quote he, thou art indeed a good and holy man. Prithee, give me my sword, and let me away, for I am in haste. At this the stout fryer looked upon Robin for a long time, his head on one side, and with the most waggish twist to his face, then he slowly winked his right eye. Nay, good youth, said he gently, I doubt not that thou art in haste with thine affairs, yet thou dost think nothing of mine. Thine are of a carnal nature, mine are of a spiritual nature, a holy work so to speak. Moreover, mine affairs do lie upon the other side of this stream. I see by thy quest of this same holy recluse that thou art a good young man, and most reverent to the cloth. I did get wet, coming hither, and I am sadly afraid that I should wade the water again I might get certain cricks and pains in the joints that would mar my devotions for many a day to come. I know that since I have so humbly done thy bidding, thou wilt carry me back again. Thou seats how St. Godric, that holy hermit whose natal day this is, hath placed in my hands two swords, and in thine never a one. Therefore be persuaded, good youth, and carry me back again. Robin Hood looked up, and he looked down, biting his nether-lip. Quoting he, Thou cunning fryer, thou hast me fair and fast you know. Let me tell thee that not one of thy cloth hath so hoodwinked me in all my life before. I might have known from thy looks that thou art no such holy man as thou didst pretend to be. Nay interrupted the fryer. I bid thee speak not so scurrilously dither, lest thou mates per chance feel the prick of an inch or so of blue steel. Tutt, tutt, said Robin, speak not so fryer, the loser hath ever the right to use his tongue as he doth list. Give me my sword. I do promise to carry thee back straight away. Nay, I will not lift the weapon against thee. Mary come up, quote the fryer. I fear thee not, fellow, here is thy skewer, and get thy self presently ready, for I would hasten back. So Robin took his sword again and buckled it at his side, then he bent his stout back and took the fryer upon it. Now I want Robin Hood had a heavier load to carry in the fryer than the fryer had in him. Moreover, he did not know the ford, so he went stumbling among the stones, now stepping into a deep hole and now nearly tripping over a boulder, while the sweat ran down his face in beads from the hardness of his journey and the heaviness of his load. In the meantime the fryer kept digging his heels into Robin's sides and bidding him hasten, calling him many ill names the while. To all this Robin answered never a word, but, having softly felt around till he found the buckle of the belt that held the fryer's sword, he worked slyly at the fastenings seeking to loosen them. Thus it came about that, by the time he had reached the other bank with his load, the fryer's sword belt was loose, albeit he knew it not. So when Robin stood on dry land and the fryer leaped from his back, the yeoman gripped hold of the sword so that blade, sheath, and strap came away from the holy man, leaving him without a weapon. Now then, quote Mary Robin, panting as he spake in wiping the sweat from his brow, I have thee, fellow, this time that same saint of whom thou did speak, but now hath delivered two swords into my hand, and hath stripped thine away from thee. Now if thus thou not carry me back, and that speedily, I swear I will prick thy skin till it is full of holes as a slashed doublet. The good fryer said not a word for a while, but he looked at Robin with a grim look. Now, said he at last, I did think that thy wits were of the heavy sort, and knew not that thou were so cunning. Truly thou hast me upon the hip. Give me my sword, and I promise not to draw it against the save and self-defense. Also I promise to do thy bidding, and take thee upon my back, and carry thee. So Jolly Robin gave him his sword again, which the fryer buckled to his side, and this time looked to it that it was more secure in its fastenings. Then tucking up his robes once more, he took Robinhood upon his back, and without a word stepped into the water, and so waited on in silence while Robin sat laughing upon his back. At last he reached the middle of the ford, where the water was deepest. Here he stopped for a moment, and then, with a sudden lift of his hand and heave of his shoulders, fairly shot Robin over his head as though he were a sack of grain. Down went Robin into the water with a mighty splash. There, quothed the holy man, calmly turning back again to the shore, let that cool thy hot spirit, if it may. Meantime after much splashing, Robin had gotten to his feet and stood gazing about him all bewildered, the water running from him in pretty little rills. At last he shot the water out of his ears and spat some out of his mouth, and gathering his scattered wits together, saw the stout fryer standing on the bank and laughing. Then I watt was Robinhood a mad man. Stay, thou villain, roared he, I am after thee straight, and if I do not carve thy brawn for thee this day, may I never lift finger again. So saying he dashed, splashing to the bank. Thou needs not hastened thyself unduly, quoth the stout fryer? Fear not, I will abide here, and if thou dost not cry, a lack a day, ere long time is gone, may I never more peep through the break at a fallow deer. And now Robin, having reached the bank, began, without much ado, to roll up his sleeves above his wrists. The fryer also tucked his robes more about him, showing a great stout arm on which the muscles stood out like humps of an aged tree. Then Robin saw, what he had not watted of before, that the fryer had also a coat of chain mail beneath his gown. "'Look to thyself,' cried Robin, drawing his good sword. "'I, Mary,' quothed the fryer, who held his already in his hand. So without more ado they came together, and thereupon began a fierce and mighty battle, right and left and up and down, and back and forth they fought. The swords flashed in the sun, and then met with a clash that sounded far and near. I want this was no playful bout at quarterstaff, but a grim and serious fight of real earnest. Thus they strove for an hour or more, pausing every now and then to rest, at which times each looked at the other with wonder, and thought that never had he seen so stout a fellow. Then once again they would go at it more fiercely than ever. Yet in all this time neither had harmed the other nor caused his blood to flow. At last Mary Robin cried, Hold thy hand, good friend, whereupon both lowered their swords. Now I crave a boon ere we begin again,' quoth Robin, wiping the sweat from his brow, for they had striven so long that he began to think that it would be an ill-done thing either to be smitten himself or to smite so stout and brave a fellow. "'What would thou have of me?' asked the fryer. "'Only this,' quoth Robin, that thou wilt let me blow thrice upon my bugle-horn.' The fryer bent his brows and looked shrewdly at Robin Hood. "'Now I do verily think that thou hast some cunning trick in this,' quote he. "'Near the less I fear thee not, and will let thee have thy wish, providing thou wilt also let me blow thrice upon this little whistle.' "'With all my heart,' quoth Robin, so here goes for one.' So saying he raised his silver horn to his lips and blew thrice upon it, clear and high. Meantime the fryer stood watching keenly for what might come to pass, holding in his fingers the while a pretty silver whistle, such as knights used for calling their hawks back to their wrists, which whistle always hung at his girdle along with his rosary. Scarcely had the echo of the last note of Robin's bugle come winding back from across the river, when four tall men in Lincoln Green came running around the bend of the road, each with a bow in his hand, and an arrow ready knocked upon the string. "'Ha! is it thus thou traitor knave?' cried the fryer. "'Then, Mary, look to thyself!' So saying he straightway clapped the hawk's whistle to his lips and blew a blast that was both loud and shrill. And now there came a crackling of the bushes that lined the other side of the road, and presently forth from the covert burst four great shaggy hounds. Adam's sweet lips, Adam's bell-throat, Adam's beauty, Adam's fangs,' cried the fryer, pointing at Robin. And now it was well for that yeoman that a tree stood nigh him beside the road, else heady and ill chance of it. ere one could say, gaffer down the dale, the hounds were upon him, and he only had time to drop his sword and leaped lightly into the tree, around which the hounds gathered, looking up at him as though he were a cat on the eaves. But the fryer quickly called off his dogs. "'Adam!' cried he, pointing down the road to where the yeoman were standing, stalked still with wonder of what they saw. As the hawk darted down upon its quarry, so sped the four dogs at the yeoman. But when the four men saw the hounds so coming, all with one accord, saving only Will Scarlett, drew each man his goose feather to his ear and let fly his shaft. And now the old ballad telleth of a wondrous thing that happened, for thus it says, that each dog, so shot at, leaped lightly aside, and as the arrow passed him whistling, caught it in his mouth, and bit it in twain. Now it would have been an ill day for these four good fellows had not Will Scarlett stepped before the others, and met the hounds as they came rushing. "'Why, how now, fangs!' cried he sternly. "'Down, beauty, down, sir, ah! What means this?' At the sound of his voice each dog shrank back quickly, and then straightway came to him and licked his hands and fond upon him, as is the want of dogs that meet one they know. Then the four yeoman came forward, the hounds leaping around Will Scarlett joyously. "'Why, how now!' cried the stout friar. "'What means this? Art thou wizard to turn those wolves into lambs?' "'Ha!' cried he, when they had come still nearer. Can I trust mine eyes? What means it that I see Young Master William Gamwell in such company?' "'Nay, tuck!' said the young man, as the four came forward to a robin was now clamoring down from the tree in which he had been roosting. He having seen that all danger was over for the time. "'Nay, tuck! My good name is no longer Will Gamwell, but Will Scarlett, and this is my good uncle, Robin Hood, with whom I am abiding just now.' "'Truly good Master,' said the friar, looking somewhat abashed, and reaching out his great palm to Robin. I have oft heard thy name, both sung and spoken of, but I never thought to meet thee in battle. I crave thy forgiveness, and do wonder not that I found so stout a man against me.' "'Truly, most holy father,' said little John, I am more thankful than ere I was in all my life before, that our good friend Scarlett knew thee and thy dogs. I tell thee seriously that I felt my heart crumble away from me when I saw my shaft so miss its aim, and those great beasts of thine coming straight at me. Thou maids'dt indeed be thankful, friend,' said the friar gravely. "'But, Master Will, how cometh that thou dost now abide in Sherwood?' "'Why, tuck, dost thou not know of my ill happening with my father's steward?' answered Scarlett. "'Yay, truly, yet I knew not that thou wert in hiding because of it. Mary, the times are all awry when a gentleman must lie hidden for so small a thing. "'But we are losing time,' quoth Robin, and I have yet to find that same curtled friar. "'Why, uncle, thou hast not far to go,' said Will Scarlett, pointing to the friar, for there he stands beside thee. "'How?' quoth Robin, art thou the man that I have been at such pains to seek all day, and have got such a dunking for?' "'Why, truly,' said the friar demurely, some do call me the curtled friar of Fountaindale, others again call me ingest the Abbot of Fountain Abbey, others still again call me simple friar, tuck. "'I like the last name best,' quoth Robin, for it doth slip more glibly off the tongue. "'But why didst thou not tell me, thou wert he I sought, instead of sending me searching for black moon-beams? "'Why, truly, thou didst not ask me, good master,' quoth stout, tuck. "'But what didst thou desire of me?' "'Nay,' quoth Robin, the day grows late, and we cannot stand longer talking here. Come back with us to Sherwood, and I will unfold all to thee as we travel along. So without tarrying longer they all departed, with the stout dogs at their heels, and wended their way back to Sherwood again, but it was long past nightfall ere they reached the greenwood tree. "'Now listen, for next I will tell how Robin Hood compass the happiness of two young lovers, aided by the merry friar-tuck of Fountaindale.' CHAPTER XIII. Robin Hood compasses a marriage. And now had come the morning when Fair Ellen was to be married, and on which Mary Robin had sworn that Allen Adale should, as it were, eat out of the platter that had been filled for Sir Stephen of Trent. Up rose Robin Hood blithe and gay, up rose his merry men one and all, and up rose last of all stout friar-tuck, winking the smart of sleep from out his eyes. Then, while the air seemed to brim over with the song of many birds, all blended together and all joying in the misty morn, each man raved face and hands in the leaping brook, and so the day began. Now, quoth Robin, when they had broken their fast, and each man had eaten his fill, it is time for us to set forth upon the undertaking that we have in hand for to-day. I will choose me one score of my good men to go with me, for I may need aid, and thou wilt Scarlet wilt abide here and be the chief while I am gone. Then searching through all the band, each man of whom crowded forward eager to be chosen, Robin called such as he wished by name, until he had a score of stout fellows, the very flower of his yeomanry. His little John and Will Stutley were nigh all those famous lads of whom I have already told you. Then while those so chosen ran leaping full of joy to arm themselves with both shaft and broadsword, Robin hood stepped aside into the covert, and there dawned a gay, berry-boned coat such as might have been worn by some strolling minstrel, and slung a harp across his shoulder, the better to carry out that part. All the band stared, and many laughed, for never had they seen their master in such a fantastic guise before. Truly, quote Robin, holding up his arms and looking down at himself, I do think it to be somewhat of a gay, gaudy, grasshopper dress, but it is a pretty thing for all that, and doth not ill befit the turn of my looks, albeit I wear it but for the nonce. But stay, little John, here are two bags that I would have thee carry in thy pouch for the sake of safekeeping. I can ill care for them myself beneath this motley. My master, quote little John, taking the bags and weighing them in his hand. Here is the chink of gold. Well, what in there be, said Robin, it is mine own coin, and the band is none the worse for what is there. Come, busky lads, and he turned quickly away. Get ye ready straightway! Then gathering the score together in a close rank, in the midst of which were Alan Adale and Friar Tuck, ye led them forth upon their way from the forest shades. So they walked on for a long time, till they had come out of Sherwood, and to the Vale of Rotherstream. Here were different sights from what one saw in the forest. Hedge-rose, broad fields of barley-corn, pasture-lands rolling upward till they met the sky, and all dotted over with flocks of white sheep. Hayfield once came the odor of new-mown hay, that lay in smooth swatches over which skimmed the swifts in rapid flight. Such they saw, and different was it, I want, from the tangled depths of the sweet woodlands, but full is fair. Thus Robin led his band, walking blithely with chest thrown out, and head thrown back, snuffing the odors of the gentle breeze that came drifting from over the hay-fields. Truly, quoth he, the dear world is as fair here as in the woodland shades. Who calls it a Vale of Tears? Me thinks it is but the darkness in our minds that bringeth gloom to the world. For what sayeth that merry song thou singeth, little John? Is it not thus? For when my love's eye is do thine, do thine? And when her lips smile so rare? The date is jacquond and fine, so fine, though let it be wet or be fair. And when the stout ale is all flowing so fast, our sorrows and troubles are things of the past. Nay, said Fryer, tuck piously, ye do think of profane things and of not else, yet truly there be better safeguards against care and woe than ale-drinking and bright eyes to wit, fasting and meditation. Look upon me. Have I the likeness of a sorrowful man? At this a great shout of laughter went up from all around, for the night before the stout Fryer had emptied twice as many canokins of ale as any one of all the merry men. Truly, quoth Robin, when he could speak for laughter, I should say that thy sorrows were about equal to thy goodliness. So they stepped along, talking, singing, justing and laughing until they had come to a certain little church that belonged to the great estates owned by the rich priory of Emmett. Here it was that Fair Ellen was to be married on that mourn, and here was the spot toward which the yeomen had pointed their toes. On the other side of the road from where the church stood with waving fields of barley around, ran a stone wall along the roadside. Over the wall from the highway was a fringe of young trees and bushes, and here and there the wall itself was covered by a mass of blossoming wood-bind that filled all the warm air far and near with its sweet summer odor. One straight way the yeomen leaped over the wall, alighting on the tall soft grass upon the other side, frightening a flock of sheet that lay there in the shade so that they scampered away in all directions. Here was a sweet cool shadow both from the wall and from the fair young trees and bushes, and here sat the yeomen down, and glad enough that they were to rest after their long tramp of the morning. Now, quoth Robin, I would have one of you watch and tell me when he sees any one coming to the church, and the one I choose shall be young David of Doncaster. So get thee upon the wall, David, and hide beneath the wood-bind so as to keep watch. Accordingly young David did as he was bitten, the others stretching themselves at length upon the grass, some talking together and others sleeping, then all was quiet save only for the low voices of those that talked together, and for Allen's restless footsteps pacing up and down, for his soul was so full of disturbance that he could not stand still, and saving also for the mellow snoring of friar tuck who enjoyed his sleep with a noise as of one sawing soft wood very slowly. Robin lay upon his back and gazed aloft into the leaves of the tree, his thought leagues away, and so a long time passed. Then up spoke Robin. Now tell us, young David of Doncaster, what dost thou see? Then David answered, I see the white clouds floating, and I feel the wind blowing, and three black crows are flying over the wall, but not else do I see, good master. So silence fell again, and another time passed, broken only as I have said, till Robin growing impatient spake again. Now tell me, young David, what dost thou see by this? And David answered, I see the windmill swinging, and three tall poplar trees swaying against the sky, and a flock of field fairs are flying over the hill, but not else do I see, good master. So another time passed, till at last Robin asking young David once more what he saw, and David said, I hear the cuckoo singing, and I see how the wind makes waves in the barley field. And now over the hill to the church cometh an old friar, and in his hands he carries a great bunch of keys, and lo! Now he cometh to the church door. Then up rose Robin hood, and shook friar, tucked by the shoulder. Come, rouse thee, holy man, cried he, whereupon with much grunting the stout tuck got to his feet. Mary, besture thyself, quoth Robin, for yonder in the church door is one of thy cloth. Go thou, and talk to him, and so get thyself into the church, that thou mayest be there when thou art wanted. Meantime, little John will stutely, and I will follow thee and on. So friar tuck clamored over the wall, crossed the road, and came to the church, where the old friar was still laboring with the great key, the lock being somewhat rusty, and he somewhat old and feeble. Hello, a brother, quoth tuck. Let me aid thee, so saying he took the key from the other's hand, and quickly opened the door with a turn of it. Who art thou, good brother? asked the old friar in a high wheezing voice. Whence comest thou, and whither art thou going? And he winked and blinked at stout friar tuck like an owl at the sun. Thus do I answer thy questions, brother, said the other. My name is tuck, and I go no farther than the spot, if that will happily but let me stay while the same wedding is going forward. I come from Fountaindale, and in truth I am a certain poor hermit, as one may say, for I live in a cell beside the fountain, blessed by that holy saint, Dethelrata. But if I understand ought, there is to be a gay wedding here to-day, so if thou mind is not, I would faint rest me in the cool shade within, for I would like to see this fine sight. Truly thou art welcome, brother, said the old man, leading the way within. Meantime Robin Hood and his guys of Harper, together with little John and Will Stootley, had come to the church. Robin sat him down on a bench beside the door, but little John carrying the two bags of gold went within, as did Will Stootley. So Robin sat by the door, looking up the road and down the road to see who might come, till after a time he saw six horsemen come riding sedately and slowly, as became them, for they were churchmen in high orders. Then when they had come nearer, Robin saw who they were, and knew them. The first was the Bishop of Harford, and a fine figure he cut, I want. His vestments were of the richest silk, and around his neck was a fair chain of beaten gold. The cap that hid his tonture was of black velvet, and around the edges of it were rows of jewels that flashed in the sunlight, each stone being set in gold. His hose were of flame-colored silk, and his shoes of black velvet, the long pointed toes being turned up and fastened to his knees, and on either instept was embroidered a cross and gold thread. Beside the Bishop rode the prier of Emmett upon a mincing palfrey. Rich were his clothes also, but not so gay as the stout bishops. Behind these were two of the higher brethren of Emmett, and behind these again two retainers belonging to the Bishop, for the Lord Bishop of Harford strove to be as like the great barons as was in the power of one in holy orders. When Robin saw this train drawing near, with flash of jewels and silk and jingle of silver bells on the trappings of the nags, he looked sourly upon them, quote he to himself. Yon Bishop is over-goddy for a holy man. I do wonder whether his patron whom he thinks was St. Thomas was given to wear in golden chains about his neck, silk clothing upon his body, and pointed shoes upon his feet, the money for all of which, God-wot, hath been wrung from the sweat of poor tenants. Bishop! Bishop! I pride may have a fall ere thou waddest of it. The Bishop and the prier jesting and laughing between themselves about certain fair dames, their words more of befitting the lips of laymen, me thinks. Then they dismounted, and the Bishop, looking around, presently caught sight of Robin standing in the doorway. Hello, O good fellow, quote he in a jovial voice. Who art thou that strudest in such gay feathers? A harper am I from the North Country, quote Robin, and I can touch the strings I wot, as never another man in all Mary England can do. Truly good Lord Bishop, many a knight in Berger, clerk can laymen, have danced to my music willy-nilly and most times greatly against their will, such as the magic of my harping. Now this day, my Lord Bishop, if I may play at this wedding, I do promise that I will cause the fair bride to love the man she marries with a love that shall last, as long as that twain shall live together. Ha! Is it so? cried the Bishop. Meanest thou this insooth? And he looked keenly at Robin, who gazed boldly back again into his eyes. Now if that wilt cause this maiden, who hath verily bewitched my poor cousin Stephen, thus to love the man she is to marry, as thou sayest thou canst, I will give thee whatsoever thou wilt ask me and do measure. Let me have a taste of thy skill, fellow. Nay, quote Robin, my music cometh not without I choose, even at a Lord Bishop's bidding. In sooth I will not play until the bride and bridegroom come. Now thou art a saucy varlet to speak so to my crest, quote the Bishop frowning on Robin. Yet I must needs bear with thee. Look! Here cometh our cousin Sir Stephen and his lady-love. And now, around the bend of the high road, came others riding upon horses. The first of all was a tall, thin man of nightly bearing, dressed all in black silk, with a black velvet cap upon his head, turned up with scarlet. Robin looked and had no doubt that this was Sir Stephen, both because of his nightly carriage, and of his gray hairs. Beside him rode a stout Saxon Franklin, Ellen's father, Edward of Derwald. Among those two came a litter borne by two horses, and therein was a maiden whom Robin knew must be Ellen. Behind this litter rode six-men-at-arms, the sunlight flashing on their steel caps, as they came jingling up the dusty road. So these also came to the church, and there Sir Stephen leaped from his horse, and, coming to the litter, handed fair Ellen out therefrom. Then Robin Hood looked at her, and could wonder no longer how it came about that so proud and night as Sir Stephen of Trent wished to marry a common Franklin's daughter, nor did he wonder that no ado was made about the matter, for she was the fairest maiden that ever he had beheld. Now whoever, she was all pale and drooping like a fair white lily snapped at the stem, and so with bent head and sore full look she went within the church, Sir Stephen leading her by the hand. Why dost thou not play, fellow, quoth the bishop looking sternly at Robin? Very said Robin calmly, I will play in greater wise than your lordship thinks, but not till the right time have come. Said the bishop to himself, while he looked grimly at Robin, when this wedding is gone by, I will have this fellow well whipped for his saucy tongue and bold speech. And now fair Ellen and Sir Stephen stood before the altar, and the bishop himself came in his robes, and opened his book, where at fair Ellen looked up and about her in bitter despair, like the fawn that finds the hounds on her haunch. Then in all his fluttering tags and ribbons of red and yellow, Robin hood strode forward. Three steps he took from the pillar whereby he leaned, and stood between the bride and bridegroom. Let me look upon this lass, he said in a loud voice. Why, how now? What have we here? Here be lilies in the cheeks, and not roses such as befit a bony bride. This is no fit wedding. Thou, Sir Knight, so old, and she so young, and thou thinkest to make her thy wife? I tell thee, it may not be, for thou art not her own true love. At this all stood amazed and knew not where to look, nor what to think or say, for they were all bewildered with the happening. So while everyone looked at Robin as though they had been changed to stone, he clapped his bugle horn to his lips, and blew three blasts so loud and clear, they echoed from floor to rafter, as though they were sounded by the trump of doom. Then straightway little John and Will Stootley came leaping, and stood upon either side of Robin Hood, and quickly drew their broadswords. The while a mighty voice rolled over the heads of all. Here be I, good master, when thou wantest me, where it was friar tuck that so called from the organ loft. And now all was hubbub and noise. Stout Edward strode forward raging, and would have seized his daughter to drag her away. But little John stepped between, and thrust him back. Stand back, old man, said he. Thou art a hobbled horse this day. Down with the villains, cried Sir Stephen, and felt for his sword. But it hung not beside him on his wedding day. Then the men at arms drew their swords, and it seemed like that blood would wet the stones, but suddenly came a bustle at the door, and loud voices, steel flashed in the light, and the crash of blows sounded. The men at arms fell back, and up the aisle came leaping eighteen stout yeoman, all clad in Lincoln green, with all in a dale at their head. In his hand he bore Robin Hood's good stout trusty bow of you, and this he gave to him, kneeling the while upon one knee. Then up spake Edward of Darewold, and a deep voice of anger. Is it thou, all in a dale, that hath bred all this coil in a church? Nay, quoth Mary Robin, that have I done, and care not who knoweth it, for my name is Robin Hood. At this name a sudden silence fell, the prior of Emmett in those that belonged to him gathered together like a flock of frightened sheep, when the scent of the wolf is nigh, while the bishop of Hereford, lying aside his book, crossed himself devoutly. Now heaven keep us this day, said he, from that evil man. Nay, quoth Robin, I mean you no harm, but here is fair Ellen's betroved husband, and she shall marry him, or pain will be bred to some of you. Then up spake stout Edward, and a loud and angry voice. Now I say nay, I am her father, and she shall marry Sir Stephen and none other. Now all this time, while everything was in a turmoil about him, Sir Stephen had been standing and proud and squirred in full silence. Nay, fellow, said he coldly, Thou mayest take thy daughter back again. I would not marry her after this day's doings, could I gain all Mary England thereby. I tell thee plainly, I loved thy daughter old as I am, and it would have taken her up like a jewel from the sty, yet truly I knew not she did love this fellow, and was beloved by him. Maiden, if thou dost rather choose a beggarly minstrel than a high-born knight, take thy choice. I do feel a shame that I should thus stand talking amid this herd, and so I will leave you. Thus saying, he turned, and gathering his men about him, walked proudly down the aisle. Then all the yeoman were silenced by the scorn of his words. Only friar tuck leaned over the edge of the choir loft, and called out to him ere he had gone. Good den, Sir Knight, thou waddest old bones must always make room from young blood! Sir Stephen neither answered nor looked up, but passed out from the church as though he had heard not. His men following him. Then the Bishop of Harford spoke hastily, I too have no business here, and so will depart. And he made as though he would go, but Robin Hood laid hold of his clothes and held him. Stay, my Lord Bishop, said he, I have yet somewhat to say to thee. The Bishop's face fell, but he stayed as Robin bent him, for he saw he could not go. Then Robin Hood turned to stout Edward of Darewold, and said he, Give thy blessing on thy daughter's marriage to this yeoman, and all will be well. Little John, give me the baggess of gold. Look, farmer, here are two hundred bright golden angels. Give thy blessing, as I say, and I will count them out to thee as thy daughter's dower. Give not thy blessing, and she shall be married all the same, but not so much as a cracked farthing shall cross thy palm, choose. Then Edward looked upon the ground with bent brows, turning the matter over and over in his mind. But he was a shrewd man, and one, with all, that made the best use of a cracked pipkin. So at last he looked up and said, But in no joyous tone, if the wench will go her own gate, let her go. I thought to make a lady of her, yet if she chooses to be what she is like to be, I have not to do with her henceforth. Nevertheless I will give her my blessing when she is duly wedded. It may not be, spake up one of those emet. The bands have not been duly published, neither is there any priest here to marry them. How sayest thou, roar, tuck from the choir loft? No, priest, Mary here stands as holy a man as thou art, any day of the week, a clerk in orders. I would have thee know. As for the question of bands, stumble not over the straw brother, for I will publish them. So saying, he called the bands, and says the old ballad, lest three times should not be enough, he published them nine times over. Then straightway he came down from the loft, and forthwith performed the marriage service, and so Allen and Ellen were duly wedded. And now Robin counted out two hundred golden angels to Edward of Dorwald, and he upon his part gave his blessing, yet not Iwad, as though he meant it with over much goodwill. Then the stout yeoman crowded around and grasped Allen's palm, and he, holding Allen's hand within his own, looked about him all dizzy with his happiness. Then at last Jolly Robin turned to the bishop of Harford, who had been looking on at all that passed with a grim look. My Lord Bishop, quoth he, thou mayest bring to thy mind that thou didst promise that did I play in such wise as to cause this fair last to love her husband, thou wouldest give me whatsoever I asked in reason. I have played my play, and she loveth her husband, which she would not have done but for me. So now, fulfilled I promise, thou hast upon thee that which me thinks, thou wouldest be the better without. Therefore I prithee, give me that golden chain that hangeth about thy neck as a wedding present for this fair bride. Then the bishop's cheeks grew red with rage, and his eyes flashed. He looked at Robin with a fell look, but saw that in the yeoman's face which bade him pause. Then slowly he took the chain from about his neck, and handed it to Robin, who flung it over Allen's head so that it hung glittering around her shoulders. Then said Mary Robin, I thank thee on the bride's part for thy handsome gift, and truly thou thyself art more seemly without it. Now should as thou ever come nigh to Sherwood, I much hope that I shall give thee there such a feast as thou hast never had in all thy life before. May heaven for fend! cried the bishop earnestly, for he knew right well what manner of feast it was that Robin Hood gave his guests in Sherwood Forest. But now Robin Hood gathered his men together, and with Allen and his young bride in their midst they all turned their footsteps towards the woodlands. On the way thither Fryer Tuck came close to Robin and plucked him by the sleeve. Thou dost lead a merry life, good master, cofee, but dost thou not think that it would be for the welfare of all your souls to have a good stout chaplain such as I to oversee holy matters? Truly I do love this life mightily. At this Mary Robin Hood laughed to me, and bade him to stay and become one of their band if he wished. That night there was such a feast held in the green what is Nottinghamshire never saw before. To that feast you and I were not bidden, and pity it is that we were not. So lest we should both feel the matter the more keenly, I will say no more about it. CHAPTER XIV Robin Hood aides a sorrowful night. So passed the gentle springtime away in budding beauty, its silver showers and sunshine, its green meadows and its flowers. So likewise passed the summer with its yellow sunlight, its quivering heat, and deep bosky foliage, its long twilight and its mellow nights, through which the frogs croaked and the fairy folks were said to be out on the hillsides. All this had passed, and the time of fall had come, bringing with it its own pleasures and joyousness. For now, when the howers were scattered home, merry bands of gleaners roamed the country about, singing along the roads in the daytime, and sleeping beneath the hedgerows and the hayricks at night. Now the hips burned to red in the tangled thickets, and the hues waxed black in the hedgerows. The stubble lay all crisp and naked to the sky, and the green leaves were fast-turning russet and brown. Also at this merry season, good things of the year are gathered in great store. Brown ale lies ripening in the cellars. Hems and bacon hang in the smoke shed, and crabs are stowed away in the straw for roasting in the wintertime, when the north wind piles the snow and drifts around the gables, and the fire crackles warm upon the hearth. So passed the seasons then, so they pass now, and so they will pass in time to come, while we come and go like leaves of the tree that fall and are soon forgotten. Quoth Robin Hood snuffling the air, here is a fair day, little John, and one that we can ill-waste in idleness. Choose such men as thou doth need, and go thou east, while I will went to the west, and see that each of us bring it back some goodly guest to dine this day beneath the greenwood tree. He said, little John, clapping his palms together for joy, thy bidding fiteth my liking like heft to blade, I'll bring thee back a guest this day, or come not back mine own self. So they each chose such of the band as they wished, and so went forth by different paths from the forest. Now, you and I cannot go two ways at the same time, while we join in these merry doings, so we will inlet little John follow his own path, while we tuck up our skirts and trudge after Robin Hood. And here is good company, too. Robin Hood, Will Scarlett, Eleanor Dale, Will Scatlock, Midge, The Miller's son, and others. A score or more of stout fellows had abided in the forest with friar tuck to make ready for the homecoming, but all the rest were gone, either with Robin Hood or little John. They travelled onward, Robin following his fancy and the others following Robin. Now they went at their way through an open dale with cottage and farm lying therein, and now again they entered woodlands once more. Passing by fair Mansfield town, with its towers and Bethelmans and spires all smiling in the sun, they came at last out of the forest lands. Onward they journeyed, through highway and byway, through villages where good wives and merry lasses peeped through the casements at the fine shore of young men, until at last they came over beyond Elverton in Derbyshire. By this time high noontide had come, yet they had met no guess such as was worth their while to take back to Sherwood. So coming at last to a certain spot where the shrines stood at the crossing of two roads, Robin called upon them to stop. For here on either side was shelter of high hedgerows, behind which was a good hiding, whence they could watch the roads at their ease while they ate their midday meal. Quote Mary Robin, hear me things is good logic, where peaceful folks such as we be, can eat in quietness, therefore we will rest here and see what may perchance fall into our luck pot. So they crossed the stall and came behind a hedgerow, where the mellow sunlight was bright and warm, and where the grass was soft, and there sat them down. Then each man drew from the pouch that hung beside him, that which he had brought to eat. For a merry walk such as this had been, sharpens the appetite till it is as keen as a march wind. So no more words were spoken, but each man saved his teeth for better use, munching at brown crust and cold meat right lustily. In front of them one of the high roads crawled up the steep hill and then dipped suddenly over its crest, sharp cut with hedgerows and shaggy grass against the sky. Over the top of the windy hill peeped the eaves of a few houses of the village that fell back into the valley behind. There also, showing the top of a windmill, the sails slowly rising and dipping from behind the hill against the clear blue sky as the light wind moved them with creaking and labored swing. So the yeoman lay behind the hedge and finished their midday meal, but still the time slipped along and no one came. At last a man came slowly riding over the hill and down the stony road towards the spot where Rubin and his band laid hidden. She was a good stout knight, but sorrowful of face and downcast of mien. His clothes were plain and rich, but no chain of gold, such as folk of his stand in life wore at most times, hung around his neck, and no jewel was about him, yet no one could mistake him for odd but one of proud and noble blood. His head was bowed upon his breast, and his hands drooped limp on either side, and so he came slowly riding as those sunk in sad thoughts. While even his good horse, the reins loose upon his neck, walked with hanging head as though he shared his master's grief. Quoth Robin Hood, yeon is verily a sorry-looking gallant, and doth seem to have dawned ill content with his jerk in this morning. Nevertheless, I will out and talk with him, for there may be some pickings here for a hungry door. Meeth thinks his dress is rich, though he himself is so downcast. By do ye hear while I look into this matter? So saying he arose and left them, crossed the road to the shrine and there stood, waiting for the sorrowful night to come near him. So presently, when the night came riding slowly along, jolly Robin stepped forward and laid his hand upon the bridal rain. Wholes a night, Quothee, I prithee, tarry a short time, for I have a few words to say to thee. What art thou, friend, who doth stop a traveller in this manner upon his most gracious Majesty's highway, said the night? Mary, Quoth Robin, this is a question hard to answer. One men calleth me kind, another calleth me cruel, this one calleth me a good, honest fellow, and that one vile thief. Truly the world hath as many eyes to look upon a man with all, as there are spots upon a toad. So with what pair of eyes thou regardeth me, lieth entirely with thine own self? My name is Robin Hood. Truly good Robin, said the night, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, thou hath the quaint conceit, as for the pair of eyes with which I regard thee, I would say that they are as favourable as may be, for I hear much good of thee and little ill. What is thy will of me? Now I make my vows a night, Quoth Robin, thou hath surely learnt thy wisdom of good gaffer's swamphold, for he saith, fair words are as easy spoke as foul, and bring good will instead of blows. Now I will show thee the truth of this saying, for if thou wilt go with me this day to show it for us, I will give thee as merry a feast as ever thou hast in all thine life. Thou art indeed kind, said the night, but me thinks thou wilt find me but an ill-seeming and sorrowful guest. Thou hast best let me pass on my way in peace. Nay, Quoth Robin, thou might as go thine own way but for one thing, and that I will tell thee. We keep an inn, as it were, in the very depth of Sherwood, but so far from high roads and beaten paths that guests do not often come nigh us, so I and my friends set off merrily and seek them when we grow dull of our self. Does the matter stand, Sir Knight? Yet I will furthermore tell thee that we count upon our guests paying a reckoning. I take thy meaning, friend, said the night gravely, but I am not thy man, for I have no money by me. Is it sooth, said Robin, looking at the night keenly? I can scarce choose but believly, yet, Sir Knight, there are those of thy order whose word is not to be trusted as much as they would have others believe. Thou wilt think no ill of me if I look for myself in this matter. Then, still holding the horse by the bridal rain, he put his fingers to his lips and blew a shrill whistle, whereupon four-score yeoman came leaping over the stile and ran to where the night and Robin stood. These, said Robin, looking upon them proudly, are some of my merry men. They share and share alike with me all joys and troubles, gains and losses. Sir Knight, I prithee tell me what money thou hast about thee. For a time the night said not a word, but a slow red arose into his cheeks. At last he looked to Robin in the face and said, I know not why I should be ashamed, for it should be no shame to me. But friend, I tell thee the truth when I say that in my purse are ten shillings, and that is every groat that Sir Richard of the Lea hath in all the wide world. When Sir Richard ended, a silence fell, until at last Robin said, And doth thou pledge me thy nightly word that this is all thou hath with thee? Yea, answered Sir Richard, I do pledge thee my most solemn word as a true night, that this is all the money I have in the world. Nay, here is my purse, you may find for yourself the truth of what I say, and he held his purse out to Robin. Put up thy purse, Sir Richard, quote Robin, far be it for me to doubt the word of so gentle a night. The proud I strive to bring low, but those that walk in sorrow I would aid if I could. Come, Sir Richard, cheer up thy heart and go with us into the Greenwood. Even I may perchance aid thee, for thou surely knoweth how the good Ethelstine was saved by the little blind mole that digged a trench over which he that sawth the king's life stumbled. Truly friend, said Sir Richard, me thinks thou meaneth kindness in thine own way. Nevertheless, my troubles are such that it is not likely that thou canst cure them. But I will go with thee this day into Sherwood. Hereupon he turned his horse's head and they all wended their way into the woodlands, Robin walking on one side of the night and will scarlet on the other, while the rest of the band trudged to behind. After they had travelled thus for a time, Robin would speak. Said Knight, said he, I would not trouble thee with idle questions, but doth thy find it in thy heart to tell me thy sorrows? Truly, Robin, quote the Knight, I see no reason why I should not do so. Thus it is. My castle and my lands are in pawn for a debt that I owe. Three days hence the money must be paid, or else all mine estate is lost forever. For then it falls into the hands of the priory of Emmett, and what they swallow they never give forth again. Hotho, Robin, I understand not why those of thy kind live in such a manner that all their wealth passes from them like snow beneath spring-tide sun. Thou wrongest me, Robin, said the Knight, for listen, I have a son but twenty winters old. Nevertheless he has won his spurs as Knight. Last year on a certain evil day, the jousts were held at Chester, and thither my son went, as did I and my lady wife. I what it was a proud time for us, for he unhorsed each Knight that he tilted against. At last he ran across with a certain great Knight, Sir Walter of Lancaster. Yet, though my son was so youthful, he kept his seat, albeit both spears were shivered to the heft. But it happened that a splinter for my boy's lance ran through the visor of Sir Walter's helmet and pierced through his eye to his brain, so that he died ere his Esquire could unlace his helm. Now, Robin, Sir Walter had great friends at court. Therefore his kinsmen stirred up things against my son so that to save him from prison I had to pay a ransom of six hundred pounds in gold. All might have gone well even yet, only that, by inns and outs and crookedness of laws, I was shorn like a sheep that is clipped to the quick. So it came that I had to pawn my lance to the priory of Emmett for more money, and a hard bug, and they drove with me in my hour of need. Yet I would have the understand I grieve so for my lance only because of my dear lady wife. But where is thy son now? asked Robin, who had listened closely to all the Knight had said. In Palestine, said Sir Richard, battling like a brave Christian soldier for the cross and the holy sepulchre. Truly, England was an ill place for him because of Sir Walter's death and the hate of Blancastrian kinsmen. Truly, said Robin, much moved, thine is a hard lot. But tell me, what is owing to Emmett for thine at States? Only four hundred pounds, said Sir Richard. At this, Robin smote his thigh in anger. Oh, the bloodsuckers! cried he, a noble estate to be forfeit for four hundred pounds. But what will befall thee if thou dost lose thy lance, Sir Richard? It is not mine own lot that dost trouble me in this case, said the Knight. But my dear ladies, for should I lose my land, she will have to be take herself to some kinsmen, and there abide in charity, which me things would break her proud heart. As for me, I will over the salt sea, and so to Palestine to join my son in fight for the holy sepulchre. Then up spake, Phil scarlet, but hast thou no friend that will help thee in thy dire needs? Never a man, said Sir Richard. While I was rich in now at home, and had friends, they blew great boasts of how they loved me. But when the oak falls in the forest, this wine run from beneath it, lest they should be smitten down also. So my friends have left me, for not only am I poor, but I have great enemies. Then Robin said, Thou sayest thou hast no friend, Sir Richard. I make no boast, but many have found Robin heard a friend in their troubles. Cheer up, Sir Knight, I may help thee yet. The Knight shook his head with faint smile. But for all that, Robin's words made him more blithe of heart, for in truth hope, be it ever so faint, bringeth a gleam into the darkness, like a little rush light that cosseth by the groat. The day was well nigh gone, when they came nearer to the Greenwood Tree. Even at a distance they saw by the number of the men, the little John had come back with some guest. But when they came near enough, whom should they find but the Lord Bishop of Harrowford? The good Bishop was in a fine stew, I would. Up and down he walked beneath the tree, like a fox caught in a hen-coupe. Behind him were three black friars, standing close together in a frightened group, like three black sheep in a tempest. Hitched to the branches of the tree, close at hand were six horses, one of them a barb, with gay trappings upon which the Bishop was want to ride, and the others laden with packs of diverse shapes and kinds, one of which made Robin's eyes glisten, for it was a box, not over-large, but heavily bound with vans and ribs of iron. When the Bishop saw Robin, and those with him come into the open, he made as though he would run towards the Yeoman. But the fellow that guarded the Bishop and the three friars thrust his quarter-stuff in front, so that his large ship was feigned to stand back, though with frowning brow and angry speech. Stay, my Lord Bishop, cried jolly Robin in a loud voice when he saw what had passed. I will come to thee with all speed, for I would much rather see thee than any man in merry England. So, saying, he quickened his steps, and soon came to where the Bishop stood fuming. How now, quoth the Bishop in a loud and angry voice, when Robin had so come to him, is this the way that thou and thy band treat one so high in the church as I am? I and these brethren were passing peacefully along the high road with our pack-horses, and half a score of men to guard them, when up comes a great strapping fellow, full seven feet high, with four score or more men back of him, and calls upon me to stop, me, the Lord Bishop of Heraforth, mind thee. Whereupon my armed guards bestrew them for cowards, straight ran off. But lookie, not only did this fellow stop me, but he threatened me, saying that Robin Hood would strip me as bare as a winter hedge. Then, beside all this, he called me such vile names as Fat Priest, man-eating Bishop, money-gorging usurer, and whatnot, as though I was no more than a strolling beggar or tinker. At this, the Bishop glared like an angry cat, while even Sir Richard laughed. Only Robin kept a grave face, alas, my lords, hithee, that thou has been so ill-treated by my band. I tell thee truly, that we greatly reverence thy cloth, little John, stand forth straight away. At these words little John came forward, twisting his face into a whimsical look, as though he would say, have mercy upon me, good master. Then Robin turned to the Bishop of Heraforth, and said, was this the man who speaks so boldly to your lordship? I truly was the same, said the Bishop, a naughty fellow I want. And didst thou, little John, said Robin in a sad voice, call his lordship a fat priest? I, said little John sorrowfully, and a man-eating Bishop, I, said little John more sorrowfully than before, and a money-gorging usurer. I, said little John, in so sorrowful a voice, that it might have drawn tears from the dragon of Wensley. Alas, that these things should be, said jolly Robin, turning to the Bishop, for I have ever found little John a truthful man. At this, a roar of laughter went up, where at the blood rushed into the Bishop's face, until it was cherry-red from crown to chin, but he said nothing, and only swallowed his words, though they well nigh choked him. Nay, my lord Bishop, said Robin, we are rough fellows, but I trust not such ill men as thou thinkest, doctor, all. There is not a man here that would harm a hair on thy reverence head. I know thou art called by our jestings, but we are all equal here in the Greenwood, for there are no bishops, nor barons, nor earls among us, only men, so thou must share our life with us, while thou dost a bride here. Come, buskie my merry men, and get the feast ready. Meantime, we will show our guests our woodland sports. So, while some went to kindle the fires for roasting meats, others ran leaping to get their cudgels and blambos. Then Robin brought forward Sir Richard of the Lee. My lord Bishop, said he, here is another guest that we have with us this day. I wish that thou mightest know him better, for I and all my men will strive to honour you both with this merry-making. Sir Richard, said the Bishop in a reproachful tone, me thinks thou and I are companions and fellow-sufferers in this den of, he was about to say thieves, but he stopped suddenly and looked askens at Robin heard. Speak out, Bishop, quote Robin laughing, we of Sherwood check not an easy flow of words, den of thieves, thou worst about to say. Quote the Bishop, may have that was what I meant to say Sir Richard, but this I will say, that I saw the just now laugh at the scurrilous jests of these fellows. It would have been more becoming of themist things to have checked them with frowns instead of spurring them on with laughter. I meant no harm to thee, said Sir Richard, but a merry jest is a merry jest. And I may truly say I would have laughed at it had it been against mine own self. But now Robin heard called upon certain ones of his ban, who spread soft moss upon the ground and laid deerskin thereon. Then Robin bet his guests be seated, and so they all three sat down, and some of the chief men, such as Little John, Will Scarlett, Eleanor Dill and others, stretching themselves upon the ground nearby. Then a garland was set up at the far end of the glade, and there at the bowmen's shot, and such shooting was done that day as it would have made one's heart leap to sea. And all the while, Robin talked so quaintly to the bishop and the knight that, the one forgetting his vexation and the other his troubles, they both laughed aloud again and again. Then Eleanor Dill came forth and tuned his harp, and all was hushed around, and he sang in his wondrous voice, songs of love, of war, of glory, and of sadness, and all listened without a movement or a sound. So Alan sang, till the great round silver moon gleamed with its clear white light amid the upper tangle of the mazy branches of the trees. At last two fellows came to say that the feast was ready spread. So Robin, leading his guests with either hand, brought them to where great smoking dishes sent savory smells far and near, stood along the white linen cloths spread upon the grass. All around was a glare of torches that lit everything up in a red light. Then straight away sitting down, all fell too with noise and hubbub, the rattling of platters, blending with the sound of loud talking and laughter. A long time the feast lasted, but at last all was over, and the bright wine and humming ale passed briskly. Then Robin Hood called aloud for silence, and all was hushed till he spoke. I have a story to tell you all, so listen to what I have to say, quote he. Whereupon, without much ado, he told them all about Sir Richard, and how his lands were in porn. But as he went on, the bishop's face, which had erst been smiling and ready with merriment, waxed serious, and he put aside the horn of wine he held in his hand, for he knew the story of Sir Richard, and his heart sank within him with grim forebodings. Then, when Robin Hood had done, he turned to the bishop of Herefor. Now, my Lord Bishop, said he, doth thou not think this is ill done of any one, much more of a churchman, who should live in humbleness and charity? To this the bishop answered not a word, but looked upon the ground with moody eyes. Quote Robin, now thou art the richest bishop in all England, canst thou not help this needy brother? But still the bishop answered not a word. Then Robin turned to little John, and Quote, go thou and willstutely, and bring forth those five pack-horses yonder, whereupon the two yeoman did as they were bidden, those about the cloth making room upon the green, where the light was the brightest for the five horses which little John and willstutely presently led forward. Who has the score of the goods? asked Robin Hood, looking at the black friars. Then up spake the smallest of all, in a trembling voice, an old man he was with a gentle wrinkled face. Death have I, but I pray thee, harm me not. Nay, Quote Robin, I have never harmed harmless men yet, but give it to me, good father. So the old man did as he was bidden, and handed Robin the tablet, on which was marked down the account of the various packages upon the horses. This Robin handed to Will Scarlett, bidding him to read the same. So Will Scarlett, lifting his voice that all my tear began, three bales of silk to Quinton, the Mercer at Ancaster. That we touch not, Quote Robin, for this Quinton is an honest fellow, who hath risen by his own thrift. So the bales of silk were laid aside unopened. One bale of silk velvet, for the abbey of Beaumont. What do these priests want with silk velvet, Quote Robin? Nevertheless, though they need it not, I will not take it all from them. Measure it off into three lots, one to be sold for charity, one for us, and one for the abbey. So this, too, was done as Robin heard bade. Two score of great wax candles for the chapel of Saint Thomas. That belongs fairly to the chapel, Quote Robin, so lay it to one side, far be it from us to take from the blessed Saint Thomas that which belongs to him. So this also was done according to Robin's bidding, and the candles were laid to one side, along with honest Quinton's unopened bales of silk. So the list was gone through with, and the goods adjudged according to what Robin thought most fit. Some things were laid aside untouched, and many were opened and divided into three equal parts, for charity, for themselves, and for the onus. And now all the ground in the torchlight was covered over with silks and velvets and cloths of gold and cases of rich wine, and so they came to the last line upon the tablet. A box belonged to the Lord Bishop of Paraphoth. At these words the bishop shook as though with a chill, and the box was set upon the ground. My Lord Bishop, hast thou the key to this box? Asked Robin. The bishop shook his head. Go, Will Scarlett, sit Robin. Thou art the strongest man here. Bring a sword straight away, and cut this box open if thou canst. Then up rose Will Scarlett and left them, coming back in a short time, bearing a great two-handed sword. Thrice he smocked that strong iron-bound box, and at the third blow it bust open, and a great heap of gold came rolling forth, gleaming red in the light of the torches. At this sight a murmur went all around among the band, like the sound of a wind in the distant trees, but no man came forth nor touched the money. Quote Robin, Thou, Will Scarlett, Thou, Eleanor Dale, and Thou, Little John, count it over. A long time it took to count all the money, and when it had been duly scored up, Will Scarlett called out that there were fifteen hundred golden pounds in all. But in among the gold they found a paper, and this Will Scarlett read in a loud voice, and all heard that the money was the rental and fines and forfeits from certain estates, belonging to the bishopric of Heraforth. My Lord Bishop, said Robin Hood, I will not strip thee, as Little John said, like a winter hedge, for thou shalt take back one-third of thy money. One-third of it thou canst well spare us for thy entertainment, and that for thy train, for thou art very rich. And one-third of it thou canst better spare for charity. For Bishop I hear that thou art of hard master to those beneath thee, and a close hoarder of gains which thou canst better, and with more credit to thyself, give to charity than spend upon thine own likings. At this the bishop looked up, but he could say never a word, yet he was thankful to keep some of his wealth. Then Robin turned to Sir Richard of the Lee, and quote he, Now Sir Richard, the church seem like to despal thee, therefore some of the overplus of church gains may well be used in abiding thee. Thou shalt take that five hundred pounds, laid aside for people more in need than the bishop is, and shalt pay thy debts to emit herefore. Sir Richard looked at Robin, until something arose in his eyes that made all the lights and the faces blur together. At last he said, I thank thee, friend, for my heart, for what thou dost for me, yet think not ill if I cannot take thy gift freely. But this I will do, I will take the money and pay my debts, and in a year and a day hence will return it safe, either to thee, or to the law, bishop of Paraphore. For this I pledge my most solemn nightly word. I feel free to borrow, for I know no man that should be more bound to aid me than one so high in that church that hath driven such a hard bargain. Truly, Sir Knight, quote Robin, I do not understand these fine scruples that weigh with those of thy kind, but nevertheless it shall all be as thou doth wish. But thou hath best bring the money to me at the end of the year, for may have I may make better use of it than the bishop. Thereupon, turning to those near him, he gave his orders, and five hundred pounds were counted out and tied in a leather bag for Sir Richard. The rest of the treasure was divided, and part taken to the treasure house of the band, and part put by with the other things for the bishop. Then Sir Richard arose. I cannot stay later, good friend, said he, for my lady will wax anxious if I come not home, so I crave leave to depart. Then Sir Robin heard and all his merry men arose, and Robin said, we cannot let thee go hence unattended, Sir Richard. Then up spake, little John, good master, let me choose a score of stout fellows from the band, and let us arm ourselves in a seemly manner, and so serve as retainers to Sir Richard, till he can get others in our stead. Thou hast spoken well, little John, and it shall be done, said Robin. Then up spake will scarlet. Let us give him a golden chain to hang about his neck, such as befits one of his blood, and also golden spurs to wear at his heels. Then Robin hood said, thou hast spoken well, will scarlet, and it shall be done. Then up spake will stutely. Let us give him yarn bale of rich velvet, and yarn roll of cloth of gold to dig home to his noble lady wife as a present from Robin Hood and his merry men all. At this all clapped their hands for joy, and Robin said, thou hast well spoken will stutely, and it shall be done. Then Sir Richard of the Lee looked all around, and strove to speak, but could scarcely do so for the feelings that choked him. At last he said in a husky, trembling voice, ye shall all see good friends, that Sir Richard of the Lee will ever remember your kindness this day, and if ye be at any time in dire need or trouble, come to me and my lady, and the walls of scarcely shall be battered down, ere harm shall befall thee. I—he could say nothing further, but turned hastily away. But now little John and nineteen stout fellows, whom he had chosen for his band, came forth already for the journey. Each man wore upon his breast a coat of linked mail, and on his head a cap of steel, and at his side a good stout's sword. A gallant show they made as they all stood in a row. Then Robin came and threw a chain of gold about Sir Richard's neck, and Will Scarlett knelt and buckled the golden spurs upon his heels, and now little John led forward Sir Richard's horse, and the knight mounted. He looked down at Robin for a little time, then of a sudden stooped and kissed his cheek. All the forest glades rang with a shout that went up as the knight and the yeoman marched off through the woodland with the glare of torches and gleam of steel, and so were gone. Then up spake the bishop of Hereforth in a mournful voice, I too must be jogging good fellow for the night waxes late. But Robin laid his hand upon the bishop's arm and stayed him. Be not so hasty, Lord Bishop, said he. Three days hence Sir Richard must pay his debt to Emmett. Until that time thou must be content to abide with me, lest thou breed trouble for the night. I promise thee that thou shalt have great sport, for I know that thou art fond of hunting the done deer. Lay by thy mantle of melancholy and strive to lead a joyous yeoman life for three stout days. I promise thee thou shalt be sorry to go when the time has come. So the bishop and his train abided with Robin for three days, and much sport his lordship had in that time. So that as Robin had said, when the time had come for him to go, he was sorry to leave the Greenwood. At the end of the three days, Robin set him free and sent him forth from the forest with the guard of yeoman to keep free booters from taking what was left of the packs and bundles. But as the bishop rode away, he vowed within himself that he would sometime make Robin rule the day that he had stopped him in Sherwood. But now we shall follow Sir Richard. So listen, and you shall hear what we fell him, and how he paid his debts at Emmett Priory and likewise in due season to Robin Hood. On either side were dykes full of water, bordered by ossears, and far away in the distance stood the towers of Emmett Priory with tall, poplar trees around. Along the causeway rode a knight with a score of stout men-at-arms behind him. The knight was clad in a plain, long robe of grey surge, gathered in at the waist with a broad, leatheren belt, from which hung a long dagger and a stout sword. But though he was so plainly dressed himself, the horse he rode was a noble barb, and its trappings were rich with silk and silver bells. So thus the band journeyed along the causeway between the dykes, till at last they reached the great gate of Emmett Priory. There the knight called to one of his men, and bade him knock at the porter's lodge with the heft of his sword. The porter was drowsing on his bench within the lodge, but at the knock he roused himself and, opening the wicket, came hobbling forth and greeted the knight, while a tame sterling that hung in a wicker cage within piped out, in Quello Cuiés, in Quello Cuiés, such being the words that the poor old lame porter had taught him to speak. Where is thy prior, asked the knight of the old porter? He is at meet to good night, and he looketh for thy coming, quote the porter, for, if I mistake not, thou art Sir Richard of the Lee. I am Sir Richard of the Lee, then I will go seek him forthwith, said the knight. But shall I not send thy horse to stable, asked the porter? By our lady it is the noblest nag, and the best harnest that ere I saw in all my life before, and he stroked the horse's flank with his palm. Nay, quote Sir Richard, the stables of this place are not for me, so make way, I prithee. So saying he pushed forward, and, the gates being opened, he entered the stony courtyard of the priory, his men behind him. In they came with rattle of steel and clashing of swords, and ring of horses feet on cobblestones, where at a flock of pigeons that strudged in the sun, flew with flapping wings to the high eaves of the round towers. While the knight was riding along the causeway to Emmett, a merry feast was toured in the refectory there. The afternoon sun streamed in through the great arched windows, and lay in broad squares of light upon the stone floor, and across the board covered with a snowy linen cloth, whereon was spread a princely feast. At the head of the table sat prior Vincent of Emmett, all clad in soft robes of fine cloth and silk. On his head was a black velvet cap picked out with gold, and around his neck hung a heavy chain of gold, with a great locket pendant therefrom. Beside him, on the arm of his great chair, roosted his favourite falcon, for the prior was fond of the gentle craft of hawking. On his right hand sat the sheriff of Nottingham, in rich robes of purple, all trimmed about with fur, and on his left a famous doctor of law, in dark and sober garb. Below these sat the high seller of Emmett, and others chief among the brethren. Just and laughter passed around, and all was as merry as merry could be. The wizened face of the man of law was twisted into a wrinkled smile, for in his pouch were four-score golden angels that the prior had paid him, in fee for the case betwixt him and the Sir Richard of the Lee. The learned doctor had been paid beforehand, for he had not over much trust in the holy Vincent of Emmett. Quote the sheriff of Nottingham, but art thou sure, Sir Prior, that thou hast the lands so safe? I, merry, said prior Vincent, smacking his lips after a deep draft of wine. I have kept a close watch upon him, albeit he was unaware of the same, and I know right well that he hath no money to pay me with all. I, true, said the man of law, in a dry husky voice. His land is surely forfeit if he cometh not to pay. But, Sir Prior, that must get a release beneath his sign manual, or else thou canst not hope to hold the land without trouble from him. Yea, said the prior, so thou hast told me ere now, but I know that this night is so poor that he will gladly sign away his lands for two hundred pounds of hard money. Then up spake the high sellerer. Me thinks it is a shame to do so drive a misfortunate night to the ditch. I think it sorrow that the noblest estate in Derbyshire should so pass away from him for a paltry five hundred pounds. Truly I, how now, broke in the prior with a quivering voice. His eyes glistening and his cheeks red with anger. Just thou praked me to my very beards, Sir Ah? By St. Hubert thou hadst best save thy breath to cool thy potage, else it may scald thy mouth. Nay, said the man of law smoothly, I dare swear this same night will never come to settlement this day, but will prove recreate. Nevertheless we will seek some means to gain his lands from him, so never fear. But even as the doctor spoke, there came a sudden clatter of horses hooves and a jingle of iron mail in the courtyard below. Then up spake the prior and called upon one of the brethren that sat below the salt, and bade him look out of the window and see who was below, albeit he knew right well it could be none but Sir Richard. So the brother arose and went and looked, and he said, I see below a score of stout men-at-arms and a night just dismounting from his horse. He is dressed in long robes of gray, which, me thinks, are of poor seeming, but the horse he rideeth upon hath the richest coursing that ever I saw. The night dismounts, and they come this way, and are even now below in the great hall. Lo, see ye there now, quote prior Vincent. Here ye have a night with so lean a purse as scarce to buy him a crust of bread to munch, yet he keeps a band of retainers, and puts rich trappings upon his horse's hide, while his own back goeth bare. Is it not well that such men should be brought lo? But art thou sure, said the little doctor tremulously, that this night will do us no harm, such as he are fierce when crossed, and he hath a band of knotty men at his heels, may hath thou hath better give an extension of his debt. Thus he spake, for he was afraid Sir Richard might do him a harm. Thou needs not fierce at the prior, looking down at the little man beside him, this night is gentle, and would as soon think of harming an old woman as thee. As the prior finished, a door at the lower end of the refractory swung open, and in came Sir Richard, with folded hands and head bowed upon his breast. Thus humbly he walked slowly up the hall, while his men at arms stood about the door. When he had come to where the prior sat, he knelt upon one knee. Save and keep thee, Sir Prior, he said, I am come to keep my day. Then the first word that the prior said to him was, Hast thou brought my money? Alas, I have not so much as one penny upon my body, said the night, where at the prior's eyes sparkled. Now, thou art a shrewd debtor, I want, said he. Then, Sir Sheriff, I drink to thee. But still the night kneeled upon the hard stones, so the prior turned to him again. What wouldst thou have? Quote he sharply. At these words a slow red mounted into the night's cheeks, but still he knelt. I would crave thy mercy, said he, as thou hopest for heaven's mercy, show mercy to me. Strip me not of my lands, and so reduce a true night to poverty. Thy day is broken, and thy land's forfeit, said the man of law, plucking up his spirits at the night's humble speech. Quote Sir Richard, thou man of law, wilt thou not be friend me in mine hour of need? Nay, said the other, I hold with his holy prior, who hath paid me my fees and hard gold, so that I am bounder to him. Wilt thou not be my friend, Sir Sheriff, said Sir Richard? Nay, for heaven, quoth the Sheriff of Nottingham, this is no business of mine, yet I will do what I may, and he nudged the prior beneath the cloth with his knee. Wilt thou not ease him of some of his debts, Sir Prior? At this the prior smiled grimly. Pay me three hundred pounds, Sir Richard, said he, and I will give thee quittance of thy debt. Thou knowest, Sir Prior, that it is easy for me to pay four hundred pounds as three hundred, said Sir Richard, but wilt thou not give me another twelve months to pay my debt? Not another day, said the prior sternly. And is this all thou wilt do for me, asked the night? Now, out upon thee, false night, cried the prior, bursting forth in anger, either pay thy debt as I have said, or release thy land and get thee gone from out my hall. Then Sir Richard arose to his feet. Thou, false, lying priest, said he, and so stern a voice that the man of law shrunk affrighted. I am no false night, as thou knowest full well, but have even held my place in the press and the tourney. Has thou so little courtesy that thou would see a true night kneel for all this time, or see him come into thy hall and never offer him meat or drink? Then, quote the man of law in a trembling voice, this is surely an ill way to talk of matters appertaining to business. Let us be mild in speech. What wilt thou pay this night, Sir Prior, to give the release of his land? I would have given him two hundred pounds, quote the prior, but since he hath spoken so vilely to my teeth not one groat over one hundred pounds will he get? Has thou offered me a thousand pounds, false prior, said the night, thou wouldst not have got an inch of my land? Then, turning to where his men at arms stood near the door, he called, Come hither! and beckoned with his finger, whereupon the tallest of them all came forward and handed him a long, leatherened bag. Sir Richard took the bag and shot from it upon the table a glittering stream of gold and money. Bear in mind, Sir Prior, said he, that thou hast promised me quittance for three hundred pounds, not one farthing above that shalt thou get. So, saying, he counted out three hundred pounds and pushed it toward the prior. But now, Prior's hands dropped at his sides, and the Prior's head hung upon his shoulder, for not only had he lost all hopes of the land, but he'd forgiven the night one hundred pounds of his debt, and had needlessly paid the man of law, four-score angels. To him he turned and, quote, he, give me back my money that thou hast. Nay, cried the other shrilly, it is but my fee that thou didst pay me, and thou gettast it not back again. And he hugged his gown about him. Now, Sir Prior, quotes Sir Richard, I have held my day and paid all the dues demanded of me. So, as there is no more betwixtus, I leave this file-place straight away. So, saying, he turned upon his heel and strode away. All this time the Sheriff had been staring with wide open eyes and mouth agape at the tall-mannered arms who stood as though carved out of stone. At last he gasped out, Randall Greenleaf! At this the tall-mannered arms, who was no other than little John, turned, grinning to the Sheriff. I give thee good den, fair gossip, quote thee. I would say, sweet Sheriff, that I've heard all thy pretty talk this day, and it shall be duly told unto Robin Hood. So farewell for the knots, till we meet again in Sherwood Forest. Then he also turned, and followed Sir Richard down the hall, leaving the Sheriff, all pale and amazed, shrunk together upon his chair. A merry feast it was to which Sir Richard came, but a sorry lot he'd left behind him, and little hunger had they for the princely food spread before them. Only the learned doctor was happy, for he had his fee. Now a twelve-month and a day passed, since prior Vincent of Emmet sat at feast, and once more the mellow fall of another year had come. But the year had brought great change, I watt, to the lands of Sir Richard of the Lee. For where before, shaggy wild grasses grew upon the meadowlands, now all stretch away in golden stubble, betokening that a rich and plentiful crop had been gathered therefrom. A year had made a great change in the castle also, for where were empty moats and the crumbling of neglect, all was now orderly and well kept. Bright shone the sun on battlement and tower, and in the blue air overhead a hawk of clattering jackdaws flew around the gilded weather-vane and spire. Then, in the brightness of the morning, the drawbridge fell across the moat with a rattle and clank of chains. The gate of the castle swung slowly open, and a goodly array of steel-clad men at arms, with a night all clothed in chain mail, as white as frost on briar and thorn of a winter morning, came flashing out from the castle courtyard. In his hand the night held a great spear, from the point of which fluttered a blood-red pennant, as broad as the palm of one's hand. So this trip came forth from the castle, and in the midst of them walked three pack-horses laden with parcels of diverse shapes and kinds. Thus rode forth Good Sir Richard of the Lee to pay his debt to Robin Hood, this bright and merry morn. Along the highway they wended their way, with measured tramp of feet and rattle and jingle of sword and harness. Onward they marched till they came nigh to Denby, where, from the top of a hill, they saw, over beyond the town, many gay flags and streamers floating in the bright air. Then Sir Richard turned to the man at arms nearest to him. What is toward yonder at Denby to-day, quote he? Please, your worship, answered the man at arms, a merry fair is held there to-day, and a great wrestling match to which many folk have come, for a prize hath been offered of a pipe of red wine, a fair golden ring, and a pair of gloves, all of which go to the best wrestler. Now, by my faith, quote Sir Richard, who loved good manly sports right well, this will be a goodly thing to see. Me thinks we have to stay a little while on our journey, and see this merry sport. So he turned his horses head aside toward Denby and the fair, and thither he and his men made their way. There they found a great hubbub of merriment. Flags and streamers were floating, tumblers were tumbling on the green, bagpipes were playing, and lads and lasses were dancing to the music. The crowd were gathered most of all around a ring where the wrestling was going forward, and thither Sir Richard and his men turned their steps. Now when the judges of the wrestling saw Sir Richard coming and knew who he was, the chief of them came down from the bench where he and the others sat, and went to the night and took him by the hand, beseeching him to come and sit with them and judge the sport. So Sir Richard got down from his horse, and went with the others to the bench raised beside the ring. Now there had been great do-ings that morning, for a certain yeoman named Egbert, who came from Stoke over in Staffordshire, had thrown with ease all those that came against him. But a man of Denby, well known through all the countryside, as William of the Scar, had been biding his time with the Stoke man. So when Egbert had thrown everyone else, Stout William leaped into the ring. Then a tough bout followed, and at last he threw Egbert heavily, where at there was a great shouting and shaking of hands, for all the Denby men were proud of their wrestler. When Sir Richard came, he found Stout William, puffed up by the shouts of his friends, walking up and down the ring, daring any one to come and try a throw with him. Come one, come all, quote he. Here stand I, William of the Scar, against any man. If there is none in Derbyshire to come against me, come all who will, from Nottingham, Stafford or York. And if I do not make them one and all root the ground with their noses like swine in the forests, call me no more, brave William the wrestler. At this all laughed. But above all the laughter, a loud voice was heard to cry out. Sin thou, Taka, so big? Here come with one from Nottinghamshire to try a fall with thee, fellow. And straightway a tall youth, with a tough quarter-staff in his hand, came pushing his way through the crowd, and at last leaped lightly over the rope into the ring. He was not as heavy as Stout William. But he was taller and broader in the shoulders, and all his joints were well-knit. Sir Richard looked upon him keenly, then turning to one of the judges he said, Knowest thou who this youth is? Me thinks I have seen him before. Nay, said the judge, he is a stranger to me. Meantime, without a word, the young man, laying aside his quarter-staff, began to take off his jerkin and body-clothing, until he presently stood with naked arms and body, an acumbly sight he was when so bared to the view, for his muscles were cut round and smooth and sharp, like swift running water. And now each man spat upon his hands, and, clapping them upon his knees, squatted down, watching the other keenly, so as to take the vantage of him in the grip. Then, like a flash, they leaped together, and a great shout went up, for William had gotten the better hold of the two. For a short time they strained and struggled and writhed, and then Stout William gave his most cunning trip and throw, but the stranger met it with greater skill than his, and so the trip came to naught. Then, of a sudden, with a twist and a wrench, the stranger loosed himself, and he of the scar found himself locked in a pair of arms that fairly made his ribs crack. So, with heavy, hot breathing, they stood for a while straining, their bodies all glistening with sweat, and great drops of sweat trickling down their faces. But the stranger's hug was so close that at last Stout William's muscles softened under his grip, and so he gave a sob. Then the youth put forth all his strength, and gave a sudden trip with his heel, and a cast over his right hip, and down Stout William went, with a sickening thud, and lay as though he would never move hand or foot again. But now no shout went up for the stranger, but an angry murmur was heard among the crowd, so easily had he won the match. Then one of the judges, a kinsman to William of the scar, rose with trembling lip and baleful look, quote he, If thou hath slain that man it will go ill with thee, let me tell thee, fellow. But the stranger answered boldly, He took his chance with me as I took mine with him, no law can touch me to harm me, even if I slew him, so that it was fairly done in the wrestling ring. That we shall see, said the judge, scowling upon the youth, while once more an angry murmur ran around the crowd. For as I have said, the men of Denby were proud of Stout William of the scar. Then up spoke Sir Richard gently. Nay said he, the youth is right. If the other dyeth, he dyeth in the wrestling ring, where he took his chance, and was cast fairly now. But in the meantime three men had come forward and lifted Stout William from the ground, and found that he was not dead, though badly shaken by his heavy fall. Then the chief judge rose and said, Young man, the prize is duly thine. Here is the red gold ring, and here the gloves, and Yon understands the pipe of wine, to do with, whatsoever, thou dost list. At this the youth, who had dawned his clothes and taken up his staff again, bowed without a word, then, taking the gloves in the ring, and thrusting the one into his girdle, and slipping the other upon his thumb, he turned, and, leaping lightly over the ropes again, made his way through the crowd, and was gone. Now I wonder who Yon youth may be, said the judge, turning to Sir Richard. He seemed like a Stout Saxon from his red cheeks and fair hair. This William of ours is a Stout man, too, and never have I seen him cast in the ring before, albeit he hath not yet striven with such great wrestlers as Thomas of Cornwall, Dichen of York, and Young David of Doncaster. Hath he not a firm foot in the ring, thinkest thou, Sir Richard? I truly, and yet this youth threw him fairly, and with wonder's ease. I much wonder who he can be, thus said Sir Richard, in a thoughtful voice. For a time the night stood talking to those about him. But at last he arose and made ready to depart, so he called his men about him, and, tightening the girth of his saddle, he mounted his horse once more. Meanwhile the young stranger had made his way through the crowd, but as he passed he heard all around him such words muttered as, Look at the cockerel! Behold how he plummet himself! I dareswear he cast good William unfairly! Yay, truly! Saw ye not bird-lime upon his hands? It would be well to cut his cocks comb. To all this the stranger paid no heed, but strode proudly about as though he heard it not. So he walked slowly across the green to where the booth stood wherein was dancing, and standing at the door he looked in on the sport. As he stood thus, a stone struck his arm of a sudden, with a sharp jar, and turning he saw that an angry crowd of men had followed him from the wrestling-ring. Then, when they saw him turn so, a great hooting and yelling arose from all, so that the folk came running out from the dancing-booth to see what was to do. At last a tall, broad-shouldered, burly blacksmith strode forward from the crowd, swinging a mighty black-thorn club in his hand. Wouldst thou come here to our fair town of Denby, thou jack in the box, to overcome a good honest lad with vile juggling tricks? growled he in a deep voice like the bellow of an angry bull. Take that, then! And of a sudden he struck a blow at the youth that might have felled an ox. But the other turned the blow deftly aside, and gave back another so terrible that the Denby man went down with a groan, as though he had been smitten by lightning. When they saw their leader fall, the crowd gave another angry shout. But the stranger placed his back against the tent near which he stood, swinging his terrible staff, and so fell had been the blow that he struck the stout smith, that none dared to come within the measure of his cudgel, so the press crowded back, like a pack of dogs from a bear at bay. But now some cowered hand from behind, through a sharp, jagged stone that smoked the stranger on the crown, so that he staggered back, and the red blood gushed from the cut, and ran down his face and over his jerken. Then, seeing him dazed with this vile blow, the crowd rushed upon him, so that they overbore him, and he fell beneath their feet. Now it might have gone ill with the youth, even to the losing of his young life, had not Sir Richard come to this fair. For, of a sudden, shouts were heard, and steel flashed in the air, and blows were given with the flat of swords, while through the midst of the crowd, Sir Richard of the Lee came spurring on his white horse. Then the crowd, seeing the steel-clad knight and the armed men, melted away like snow on the warm hearth, leaving the young man all bloody and dusty upon the ground. Finding himself free, the youth arose, and wiping the blood from his face, looked up, quote he, Sir Richard of the Lee, may hap thou how save my life this day. Who art thou that knowest Sir Richard of the Lee so well, quote the knight, me thinks I have seen thy face before, young man? Yea, thou hast, said the youth, for men call me David of Doncaster. Ha! said Sir Richard, I wonder that I knew thee not, David, but thy beard hath grown longer, and thou thyself art more set in manhood since this day twelve months. Come hither into the tent, David, and wash the blood from thy face, and thou, Ralph, bring him straight away a clean jerken. Now I am sorry for thee, yet I am right glad that I have had a chance to pay a part of my debt of kindness to thy good master Robin Hood, for it might have gone ill with thee had I not come, young man. So saying, the knight led David into the tent, and there the youth washed the blood from his face, and put on the clean jerken. In the meantime a whisper had gone around from those that stood nearest, that this was none other than the great David of Doncaster, the best wrestler in all the mid-country, who only last spring had cast stout Adam O'Lincoln in the ring at Selby in Yorkshire, and now held the mid-country champion belt. Thus it happened that when young David came forth from the tent, along with Sir Richard, the blood all washed from his face, and his soiled jerken changed for a clean one. No sounds of anger were heard, but all pressed forward to see the young man, feeling proud that one of the great wrestlers of England should have entered the ring at Denby Fair, so thus Fickel is a mass of men. Then Sir Richard called aloud, Friends, this is David of Doncaster, so think it no shame that your Denby man was cast by such a wrestler. He bereth you no ill will for what hath passed, but let it be a warning to you how ye treat strangers henceforth. Had ye slain him it would have been an ill day for you, for Robin Hood would have harried your town as the kestrel harries the dove-coat. I have bought the pipe of wine from him, and now I give it freely to you to drink as ye list, but never here afterward fall upon a man for being a stout yeoman. At this all shouted amain, but in truth they thought more of the wine than of the night's words. Then Sir Richard, with David beside him, and his men at arms around, turned about, and left the fair. But in after-days, when the men that saw that wrestling boat were bent with age, they would shake their heads when they heard of any stalwart game, and say, Aye, aye, but thou shouldst have seen the great David of Doncaster cast stout William of the Scar at Denby Fair. Robin Hood stood in the merry Greenwood, with little John and most of his stout yeoman around him, awaiting Sir Richard's coming. At last a glint of steel was seen through the brown forest leaves, and forth from the covert into the open rode Sir Richard at the head of his men. He came straightforward to Robin Hood, and leaping from off his horse clasped the yeoman in his arms. Why, how now, said Robin, after a time, holding Sir Richard off and looking at him from top to toe, he thinks thou art a gayer bird than when I saw thee last. Yes, thanks to thee, Robin, said the night, laying his hand upon the yeoman's shoulder, but for thee I would have been wandering in misery in a far country by this time. But I have kept my word, Robin, and have brought back the money that thou didst lend me, and which I have doubled four times over again, and so become rich once more. Along with this money I have brought a little gift to thee, and thy brave men, from my dear lady and myself. Then, turning to his men, he called aloud, bring forth the pack-horses. But Robin stopped him. Nay, Sir Richard, said he, think it not bold of me to cross thy bidding, but we of sure would do no business till after we have eaten and drunk. Whereupon, taking Sir Richard by the hand, he led him to the seat beneath the Greenwood Tree, while others of the chief men of the band came and seated themselves around. Then, quote Robin, how cometh it that I saw young David of Doncaster with thee, and thy men, Sir Knight? Then straightway the night told all about his stay at Denby, and of the happening at the Fair, and how it was like to go hard with young David. So he told his tale, and, quote he, it was this good Robin that kept me so late on the way, otherwise I would have been here an hour ago. Then, when he had done speaking, Robin stretched out his hand and grasped the night's palm. Quote he in a trembling voice, I owe thee a debt I can never hope to repay, Sir Richard, for let me tell thee, I would rather lose my right hand than have such ill befall young David of Doncaster as seemed like to come upon him at Denby. So they talked until after a while one came forward to say that the feast was spread, whereupon all arose and went thereto. When at last it was done, the night called upon his men to bring the pack-horses forward, which they did according to his bidding. Then one of the men brought the night a strong box, which he opened, and took from it a bag, and counted out five hundred pounds, the sum he had gotten from Robin. Sir Richard, quote Robin, Thou wilt pleasure us all if Thou wilt keep that money as a gift from us of Sherwood. Is it not so, my lads? Then all shouted, I, with a mighty voice. I thank you all deeply, said the night earnestly, but think it not ill of me if I cannot take it. Gladly have I borrowed it from you, but it may not be that I can take it as a gift. Then Robin Hood said no more, but gave the money to little John to put away in the treasury, for he had shrewdness enough to know that not breeds ill will and heart bitterness like gifts forced upon one that cannot choose but take them. Then Sir Richard had the packs laid upon the ground and opened, whereupon a great shout went up that made the forest ring again. For lo, there were ten score bows of finest Spanish U, all burnished till they shone again, and each bow inlaid with fanciful figures and silver, yet not inlaid so as to mar their strength. Beside these were ten score quivers of leather embroidered with golden thread, and in each quiver were a score of shafts with burnished heads that shone like silver. Each shaft was feathered with peacock's plumes, inut with silver. Sir Richard gave to each yeoman a bow and a quiver of arrows, but to Robin he gave a stout bow inlaid with the cunningest workmanship in gold, while each arrow in his quiver was innecked with gold. Then all shouted again for joy of the fair gift, and all swore among themselves that they would die if need be for Sir Richard and his lady. At last the time came when Sir Richard must go, whereupon Robin Hood called his band around him, and each man of the yeoman took a torch in his hand to light the way through the woodlands. So they came to the edge of Sherwood, and there the night kissed Robin upon the cheeks, and left him, and was gone. Thus Robin Hood helped a noble knight out of his dire misfortunes, that else would have smothered the happiness from his life. Recording by Marion Brown, Toronto, Canada The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle Chapter 16 Little John Turns Barefoot Fryer Cold winter had passed and spring had come. No leafy thickness had yet clad the woodlands, but the budding leaves hung like a tender mist about the trees. In the open country the meadowlands lay a sheen-y green, the cornfields a dark velvety color, for they were thick and soft with the growing blades. The plow-boy shouted in the sun, and in the purple, new-turned furrows flocks of birds hunted for fat worms. All the broad, moist earth smiled in the warm light, and each little green hill clapped its hand for joy. On a deer's hide stretched on the ground, in the open in front of the greenwood tree, sat Robin Hood, basking in the sun like an old dog fox. Leaning back with his hands clasped about his knees, he lazily watched Little John rolling a stout bow-string from long strands of hempen thread, wetting the palms of his hands ever in a naan, and rolling the cord upon his thigh. Nearby sat Alana Dale fitting a new string to his harp. Quoth Robin at last, me thinks I would rather roam this forest in the gentle springtime than be king of all merry England. What palace in the broad world is as fair as the sweet woodland just now? And what king in all the world has such appetite for plovers, eggs, and lampraise as eye for juicy venison and sparkling ale? Gaffer Swanthold speaks truly when he said, Better a crust with content than honey with a sour heart. Yea, quoth Little John, as he rubbed his new-made bow-string with yellow beeswax, the life we lead is the life for me. Thou speakest of the springtime, but me thinks even the winter hath its own joys. Thou and I, good master, have had more than one merry day this winter past at the Blue Boar. Does thou not remember that night, Thou and Will Stutley and Friar Tuck and I passed at that same hostelry with the two beggars and the strolling Friar? Yea, quoth Mary Robin laughing, that was the night that Will Stutley must need snatch a kiss from the stout hostess and got a canick in a veil emptied over his head for his pains. Truly it was the same, said Little John, laughing also. Me thinks that was a goodly song that the strolling Friar saying, Friar Tuck, Thou hast a quick ear for a tune. Does thou not remember it? I did have the catch of it one time, said Tuck, let me see. And he touched his forefinger to his forehead and thought, humming to himself and stopping ever and anon to fit what he had got to what he searched for in his mind. At last he found it all and clearing his throat, saying merrily, In the blossoming hedge the robin-cock sings, For the sun it is merry and bright, and he joyfully hops and he flutters his wings, for his heart is all full of delight. For the May-Bloometh Fair and there's little of care and plenty to eat in the May-Time Rare, when the flowers all die, then off he will fly, to keep himself warm in some jolly old barn, where the snow in the wind neither chill him nor harm. And such is the life of a strolling friar with a plenty to eat and to drink, for the good wife will keep him a seat by the fire and the pretty girl smile at his wink. Then he lustily trolls, as onward he strolls, a rollicking song for the saving of souls, when the wind-doth blow with the coming of snow, there's a place by the fire for the fatherly friar and a crab in the bowl for his heart's desire. Thus fire Tuck sang in a rich and mellow voice, rolling his head from side to side in time with the music, and when he had done all clapped their hands and shouted with laughter, for the song fitted him well. In very sooth, quote little John, it is a goodly song, and were I not a yeoman of Sherwood forest, I had rather be a strolling friar than odd else in the world. Yea, it is a goodly song, said Robin Hood, but me thought those two burly beggars told the merrier tales and led the merrier life. Does thou not remember what that great black-bearded fellow told of his begging at the fair in York? Yea, he said, little John, but what told the friar of the harvest home in Kentshire, I hold that he led a merrier life than the other two. Truly for the honour of the cloth, quote friar Tuck, I hold with my good gossip, little John. Now, quote Robin, I hold to mine own mind. But what sayest thou, little John, to a merry adventure this fair day? Take thou a friar's gown from our chest of strange garments and don the same. I will stop the first beggar I meet and change clothes with him, then let us wander the country about this sweet day, and see what befalls each of us. That fiteth my mind, quote little John, so let us forth say I. Thereupon little John and friar Tuck went to the storehouse of the band, and there chose for the yeoman the robe of a gray friar. Then they came forth again, and a mighty roar of laughter went up, for not only had the band never seen little John in such a guise before, but the robe was too short for him by a good palm's breadth. But little John's hands were folded in his loose sleeves, and little John's eyes were cast upon the ground, and at his girdle hung a great long string of beads. Now little John took up his stout staff at the end of which hung a chubby little leathern pottle, such as palmers carry at the tips of their staves, but in it was something I wot, more like good malmsy than cold spring water, such as godly pilgrims carry. Then up rose Robin and took his stout staff in his hand likewise, and slipped ten golden angels into his pouch, for no beggar's garb was among the stores of the band, so he was feigned to run his chance of meeting a beggar and buying his clothes of him. So all being made ready the two yeoman set forth on their way, striding lustily along all in the misty morning. Thus they walked down the forest path until they came to the highway, and then along the highway till it split in twain, leading on one hand to Blythe, and on the other to Gainesboro. Here the yeoman stopped. Quote Jolly Robin, take thou the road to Gainesboro, and I will take that to Blythe, so fare thee well, Holy Father, and mayst thou not have caused to count thy beads in earnest ere we meet again. Good den, good beggar that is to be, quote Little John, and mayst thou have no cause to beg for mercy ere I see thee next. So each step sturdily upon his way, until a green hill rose between them, and the one was hid from the sight of the other. Little John walked along whistling, for no one was nigh upon all the road. In the budding hedges the little birds twitted merrily, and on either hand the green hills swept up to the sky, the great white clouds of springtime sailing slowly over their crowds in lazy flight. Up hill and down dale walked Little John, the fresh wind blowing in his face and his robes fluttering behind him, so at last he came to a crossroad that led to Tuxford. Here he met three pretty lasses, each bearing a basket of eggs to market. Quote he, wither away fair maids, and he stood in their path holding his staff in front of them to stop them. Then they huddled together and nudged one another, and one presently spake up and said, We are going to the Tuxford Market, Holy Friar, to sell our eggs. Now out upon it, quote Little John, looking upon them with his head on one side. Surely it is a pity for such fair lasses should be forced to carry eggs to market. Let me tell you, and I had the shaping of things in this world ye should all three have been clothed in the finest silks, and ride upon milk-white horses with pages at your side, and feed upon nothing but whipped cream and strawberries, for such a life would surely befit your looks. At this speech all three of the pretty maids looked down, blushing and simpering. One said, La, another, marry a maketh sport of us, and the third, listen now to the Holy Man, but at the same time they looked at Little John from out the corners of their eyes. Now look at you, said Little John, I cannot see such dainty damsels as ye are carrying baskets along a high road. Let me take them mine own self, and one of you, if ye will, may carry my staff for me. Nay, said one of the lasses, but thou canst not carry three baskets all at one time. Ye, but I can, said Little John, and that I will show you presently. I thank the good Saint Wilfred that he hath given me a pretty wit. Look ye now. Here I take this great basket, so here I tie my rosary around the handle, thus, and here I slip the rosary over my head, and sling the basket upon my back in this wise. And Little John did according to his words, the basket hanging down behind him like a peddler's pack. Then giving his staff to one of the maids, and taking a basket upon either arm, he turned his face toward Tuxford Town, and stepped forth merrily, a laughing maid on either side, and one walking ahead carrying the staff. In this wise they journeyed along, and every one they met stopped and looked after them, laughing, for never had anybody seen such a merry sight as this tall strapping gray fryer with robes all too short for him, laden with eggs, and tramping the road with three pretty lasses. For this Little John cared not a wit, but when such folks gave justing words to him, he answered back as merrily, speech for speech. So they stepped along toward Tuxford, chatting and laughing, until they came nigh to the town. Here Little John stopped and set down the baskets, for he did not care to go into the town, lest he should, per chance, meet some of the sheriff's men. Alas, sweet chucks, quote he, here I must leave you. I had not thought to come this way, but I am glad that I did so. Now, ere we part, we must drink sweet friendship. So, saying, he unslunged the leathern pottle from the end of his staff, and drawing the stopper therefrom, he handed it to the lass who had carried his staff, first wiping the mouth of the pottle upon his sleeve. Then each lass took a fair drink of what was within, and when it had passed all around, Little John finished what was left, so that not another drop could be squeezed from it. Then kissing each lass sweetly, he wished them all good den, and left them. But the maid stood looking after him as he walked away whistling, what a pity, quote one, that such a stout, lusty lad should be in holy orders. Merri, quote Little John to himself as he strode along, yawn was no such ill happening, Saint Dunstan send me more of the like. After he had trudged along for a time, he began to wax thirsty again in the warmth of the day. He shook his leathern pottle beside his ear, but not a sound came therefrom. Then he placed it to his lips and tilted it high aloft, but not a drop was there. Little John, Little John, said he sadly to himself, shaking his head the while, woman will be thy ruin yet, if thou dost not take better care of thyself. But at last he reached the crest of a certain hill, and saw below a sweet little thatched in it, lying snugly in the dale beneath him, toward which the rogue dipped sharply. At the sight of this a voice within him cried aloud, I give thee joy, good friend, for yonder is thy heart's delight, to wit a sweet rest and a cup of brown beer. So he quickened his pace down the hill, and so came to the little inn, from which hung a sign with a stag's head painted upon it. In front of the door a clucking hen was scratching in the dust with a brood of chickens about her heels. The sparrows were chattering of household affairs under the eaves, and all was so sweet and peaceful that Little John's heart laughed within him. Beside the door stood two stout cobs with broad, soft-padded saddles, well fitted for easily travelling, and speaking of rich guests in the parlor. In front of the door three merry fellows, a tinker, a peddler, and a beggar, were seated on a bench in the sun, quaffing, stout ale. I give you good den, sweet friends, quote Little John, striding up to where they sat. Give thee good den, holy father, quote the merry beggar with a grin, but look thee, thy gown is too short. Thou hadst best cut a piece off the top, and tack it to the bottom, so that it may be long enough. But come, sit beside us here, and take a taste of ale, if thy vows forbid thee not. Nay, quote Little John also grinning, the blessed St. Dunstan hath given me a free dispensation for all indulgence in that line, and he thrust his hand into his pouch for money to pay his score. Truly, quote the tinker, without thy looks belie thee, holy friar, the good St. Dunstan was wise, for without such dispensation his votary is like to have many appennance to make. Nay, take thy hand from out thy pouch, brother, for thou shalt not pay this shot, whole landlord, a pot of ale. So the ale was brought and given to Little John, then blowing the froth a little way to make room for his lips, he tilted the bottom of the pot higher and higher, till it pointed to the sky, and he had to shut his eyes to keep the dazzle of the sunshine out of them. Then he took the pot away, for there was nothing in it, and heaved a full deep sigh, looking at the others with moist eyes and shaking his head solemnly. Oh, landlord, cried the peddler, bring this good fellow another pot of ale, for truly it is a credit to us all to have one among us who can empty a canokin so lustily. So they talked among themselves merrily, until after a while, quote Little John, who rideth those two nags yonder? Two holy men like thee, brother, quote the beggar, they are now having a goodly feast within, for I smelled the steam of a potted pullet just now. The landlady sayeth they come from Fountain Abbey in Yorkshire, and go to Lincoln on other matters. They are a merry couple, said the tinker, for one is as lean as an old wife's spindle, and the other is fat as a suet pudding. Talking of fatness, said the peddler, thou thyself lookest none too ill-fed, holy friar. Nay, truly, said Little John, thou seeest in me what the holy St. Dunstan can do for them that serve him upon a handful of parched peas and a trickle of cold water. At this a great shout of laughter went up, truly it is a wondrous thing, quote the beggar, I would have made my vow to see the masterly manner in which thou didst tuck away on pot of ale, that thou hast not tasted clear water for a brace of months, has not this same holy St. Dunstan taught thee a goodly song or two? Why, as for that, quote Little John grinning, may happy hath lent me aid to learn a ditty or so, then, prithee, let us hear how he hath taught thee, quote the tinker. At this Little John cleared his throat, and after a word or two about certain hoarseness that troubled him, saying thus, Ah, pretty, pretty maid, whither dost thou go, I prithee, prithee, wait for thy lover also, and will gather the rose as it sweetly blows, for the merry, merry winds are blowing. Now, it seemed as though Little John's songs were never to get sung, for he got no farther than this, when the door of the inn opened, and out came the two brothers of Fountain Abbey, the landlord following them, and as the saying is, washing his hands with humble soap. But when the brothers of Fountain Abbey saw who it was that sang, and how he was clad in the robes of a gray fryer, they suddenly stopped, and fat little brother drawing his heavy eyebrows together in a mighty frown, and the thin brother twisting up his face as though he had sour beer in his mouth. Then as Little John gathered his voice for a new verse, How now, roared forth the fat brother, his voice coming from him like loud thunder from a little cloud, thou naughty fellow, is this a fit place for one in thy garb to tipple and sing profane songs? Nay, quoth Little John, sin I can't tipple and sing, like your worship's reverence in such a goodly place as Fountain Abbey, I must even tipple and sing where I can. Now out upon thee cried the tall lean brother in a harsh voice. Now out upon thee that thou should so disgrace thy cloth by this talk and bearing. Mary, come up, quoth Little John, disgrace sayest thou, me thinks it is more disgrace for one of our garb to ring harder and farthings out of the grip of poor lean peasants. Is it not so, brother? At this the tinker, the peddler, and the beggar nudged one another, and all grinned, and the friars scowled blackly at Little John, but they could think of nothing further to say, so they turned to their horses. Then Little John arose of a sudden from the bench where he sat, and ran to where the brothers of Fountain Abbey were mounting. Quoth he, let me hold your horses bridles for you. Truly your words have smitten my sinful heart, so that I will abide no longer in this den of evil, but will go forward with you. No vile temptation I want will fall upon me in such holy company. Nay fellows of the lean brother harshly, for he saw that Little John made sport of them. We want none of thy company, so get thee gone. Alas, quoth Little John, I am truly sorry that she like me not, nor my company, but as for leaving you it may not be, for my heart is so moved that willy nilly I must go with you for the sake of your holy company. Now at this talk all the good fellows on the bench grinned till their teeth glistened, and even the landlord could not forbear to smile. As for the friars they looked at one another with a puzzled look, and knew not what to do in the matter. They were so proud that it made them feel sick with shame to think of riding along the high road with a strolling friar, in robes all too short for him, running beside them. But yet they could not make Little John stay against his will, for they knew he would crack the bones of them, both of them, in a twinkling where he so minded. And up spake the fat brother more mildly than he had done before. Nay good brother said he, we will ride fast, and thou will tire to death at the pace. Truly I am grateful to thee for the thought of me, quoth Little John, but have no fear, brother, my limbs are stout, I could run like a hare from here to Gainsborough. At these words a sound of laughing came from the bench, where at the lean brother's wrath boiled over, like water into the fire, with great fuss and noise. Now out upon thee, thou naughty fellow, he cried, art thou not ashamed to bring disgrace so upon our cloth? By thee here thou sought, with these porkers, thou art not fit company for us. La ye there now, quoth Little John, thou hearest landlord, thou art not fit company for these holy men, go back to thy nail-house. Nay, if these most holy brothers of mine, do but give me the word, I'll beat thy head with this stout staff till it as soft as whipped eggs. At these words a great shout of laughter went up from those on the bench, and the landlord's face grew red as a cherry from smothering his laugh in his stomach, but he kept his merryment down, for he wished not to bring the ill-will of the brothers of found Naby upon him by unseemly mirth. So the two brethren, as they could do not else, having mounted their nags, turned their noses toward Lincoln, and rode away. I cannot stay longer, sweet friends, quoth Little John, as he pushed in betwixt the two cobs. For I wish you good den. Off we go, we three. So saying he swung his stout staff over his shoulder and trudged off, measuring his pace with that of the two nags. The two brothers clowered at Little John when he so pushed himself betwixt them. Then they drew as far away from him as they could, so that the yeoman walked in the middle of the road, while they rode on the footpath on either side of the way. As they so went away, the tinker, the peddler, and the beggar ran skipping out into the middle of the highway, each with a pot in his hand, and looked after them, laughing. While they were in sight of those at the inn, the brothers walked their horses soberly, not caring to make ill matters worse by seeming to run away from Little John. For they could not think but how it would sound in folks' ears when they heard how the brethren of Fountain Abbey scampered away from a strolling fryer, like the ugly one, when the Blessed Saint Dunstan loosed his nose from the red hot tongs where he had held it fast. But when they had crossed the crest of the hill, and the inn was lost to sight, quote the fat brother to the thin brother, brother Ambrose, had we not better mend our pace. Why truly, gossip, spoke Little John, me thinks it would be well to boil our pot a little faster for the day is passing on, so it will not jolt thy fat too much onward, say I. At this the two friars said nothing, but they glared again on Little John with baleful looks. Then without another word they clucked to their horses, and both broke into a canter. So they galloped for a mile and more, and Little John ran betwixt them as lightly as a stag, and never turned a hair with the running. At last the fat brother drew his horses' reign with a groan, for he could stand the shaking no longer. Alas! said Little John, with not so much as a catch in his breath, I did sadly fear that the roughness of this pace would shake thy poor old fat paunch. To this the fat friar never said a word, but he stared straight before him and he nod his nether lip. And now they travelled forward more quietly, Little John in the middle of the road whistling merrily to himself, and the two friars in the footpath on either side, saying never a word. Then presently they met three merry minstrels, all clad in red, who stared amane to see a grey friar with such short robes walking in the middle of the road, and two brothers with heads bowed with shame riding upon richly comparison cobs on the footpath. When they had come nearer to the minstrels, Little John waved his staff like an usher clearing the way. Make way, he cried in a loud voice, make way, make way, for here we go we three. Then how the minstrels stared and how they laughed, but the fat friar shook as with an agieu, and the lean friar bowed his head over his horse's neck. Then next they met two noble knights in rich array, with hawk on wrist, and likewise two fair ladies clad in silks and velvets all a-riding on noble steeds. These all made room-staring as Little John and the two friars came along the road. To them Little John bowed humbly, give you greetings, lords and ladies, said he, but here we go we three. Then all laughed, and one of the fair ladies cried out, What three meets thou, merry friend? Little John looked over his shoulder, for they had now passed each other, and he called back, Big Jack, Lean Jack, and Fat Jack putting. At this the fat friar gave a groan, and seemed as if he were like to fall from his saddle for shame. The other brother said nothing, but he looked before him with a grim and stony look. Just ahead of them the road took a sudden turn around a high hedge, and some two score paces beyond the bend, another road crossed the one they were riding upon. When they had come to the cross-road and were well away from those they had left, the lean friar drew rain suddenly. Look ye fellow, quoth he in a voice quivering with rage. We have had enough of thy vile company, and care no longer to be made sport of. Go thy way, and let us go ours in peace. La there now, quoth little John, me thought we were such a merry company, and here thou dost blaze up like fat in the pan. But truly, I have had a now of you today, though I can ill spare your company. I know ye will miss me, but giny want me again, whisper to Goodman Wind, and he will bring news thereof to me. But ye see, I am a poor man, and ye are rich. I pray ye give me a penny or two to buy me bread and cheese at the next inn. We have no money, fellow, said the lean friar harshly. Come, brother Thomas, let us forward. But little John caught the horses by the bridal reins, one in either hand. High ye in truth no money about you whatsoever, said he. Now I pray ye, brothers, for charity's sake. Give me somewhat to buy a crust of bread, even though it be only a penny. I tell thee, fellow, we have no money, thundered the fat little friar with a great voice. High ye in holy truth no money, asked little John. Not a farthing, said the lean friar sourly. Not a groat, said the fat friar loudly. Nay, quote little John, this must not be. Far be it from me to see such holy men as ye are, depart from me with no money. Get both of you down straightway from off your horses, and we will kneel here in the middle of the crossroads and pray the blessed St. Dunstan to send us some money to carry us on our journey. What sayest thou, thou limb of evil? cried the lean friar, fairly gnashing his teeth with rage. Dost thou bid me, the high cellaror of Fountain Abbey, to get down from my horse and kneel in the dirty road, to pray to some beggarly Saxon saint? Now, quote little John, I have a great part of my mind to crack thy head for speaking thus of the good St. Dunstan. But get down straightway, for my patience will not last much longer, and I may forget that ye are both in holy orders. So saying a twirled his stout staff till it whistled again. At this speech both friars grew as pale as doe, down slipped the fat brother from off his horse on one side, and down slipped the lean brother on the other. Now, brothers, down on your knees and pray, said little John, there upon putting his heavy hands upon the shoulders of each, he forced them to their knees, he kneeling also. The little John began to beseech St. Dunstan for money, which he did in a great loud voice. Then he had so besought the saint for a time, he bade the friars feel in their pouches, and see if the saint had sent them anything. So each put his hand slowly in the pouch that hung beside him, but brought nothing thence. Ha! quote little John, have your prayer so little virtue? Then let us at it again. Then straightway he began calling on St. Dunstan again, somewhat in this wise. O gracious St. Dunstan, send some money straightway to these poor folk, lest the fat one waste away, and grow his lean is the lean one, and the lean one waste away to nothing at all ere they get to Lincoln town. But send them only ten shillings apiece, lest they grow puffed up with pride. Any more than that thou sendest send me. Now quote he rising, let us see what each man hath. Then he thrust his hand into his pouch, and drew fence forth four golden angels. What have ye, brothers, said he? And once again each friar slowly thrust his hand into his pouch, and once again brought it out with nothing in it. Have ye nothing, quote little John? Nay, I warrant there is somewhat that hath crept into the seams of your pouches, and so ye have missed it. Let me look. So he went first to the lean friar, and thrusting his hand into the pouch, he drew forth a leathern bag, and counted there from one hundred and ten pounds of golden money. I thought, quote little John, that thou hast missed in some odd corner of thy pouch, the money that the blessed saint had sent thee, and now let me see whether thou hast not some also, brother. Thereupon he thrust his hand into the pouch of the fat friar, and drew fence a bag like the other, and counted out from it three score and ten pounds. Look ye now, quote he, I knew the good saint had sent thee some pittance that thou all had missed. Then giving them one pound between them, he slipped the rest of the money into his own pouch, saying, ye pledged me your holy word, that ye had no money. Being holy men, I trust that ye would not belie your word so pledged. Therefore I know the good saint Dunstan hath sent this in answer to my prayers. But as I only prayed for ten shillings to be sent to each of you, all over and above, that belongeth by rights to me, and so I take it. I give you good den, brothers, and may ye have a pleasant journey henceforth. So saying he turned and left them striding away. The friars looked at one another with a woeful look, and slowly and sadly they mounted their horses again, and rode away with never a word. But little John turned his footsteps back again to Sherwood Forest, and merrily he whistled as he strode along. And now we will see what befell Robin Hood in his adventure as beggar. End of Chapter 16 Little John Turns Barefoot Friar This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information and to find out how to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Marion Brown, Toronto, Canada. The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle. Chapter 17 Robin Hood Turns Beggar After Jolly Robin had left Little John at the forking of the roads, he walked merrily onward in the mellow sunshine that shone about him. Ever and anon he would skip and leap or sing a snatch of song for pure joyousness of the day. For because of the sweetness of the spring tide his heart was as lusty within him as that of a colt newly turned out to grass. Sometimes he would walk a long distance gazing aloft at the great white swelling clouds that move slowly across the deep blue sky. Anon he would stop and drink in the fullness of life and of all things. For the hedgerows were budding tenderly and the grass of the meadows was waxing long and green. Again he would stand still and listen to the pretty song of the little birds in the thickets, or harken to the clear crow of the cock, daring the sky to rain. Where at he would laugh? For it took but little to tickle Robin's heart into merriment. So he trudged manfully along, ever willing to stop for this reason or for that, and ever ready to chat with such merry lasses as he met now and then. So the morning slipped along, but yet he met no beggar with whom he could change clothes. Quoth he, if I do not change my luck in haste, I am like to have an empty day for it, for it is well my half gone already, and although I have had a merry walk through the countryside, I know not of a beggar's life. Then after a while he began to grow hungry, whereupon his mind turned from thoughts of springtime and flowers and birds and dwelt upon boiled capons, malmsey, white bread and the like, with great tenderness. Quoth he to himself, I would I had Willie Winkins' wishing-coat, I know right well what I should wish for, and this it should be. Here he marked upon the fingers of his left hand, with the forefinger of his right hand, those things which he wished for. Firstly, I would have a sweet brown pie of tender larks, marquee, not dry cooked, but with a good sop of gravy to moisten it with all. Next, I would have a pretty pullet, fairly boiled, with tender pigeons' eggs, cunningly sliced, garnishing the platter around. With these I would have a long, slim loaf of wheaten bread that hath been baked upon the hearth. It should be warm from the fire, with glossy brown crust, the colour of the hair of mine own made Marion, and this same crust should be as crisp and brittle as the thin white ice that lies across the furrows in the early winter's morning. These will do for the more solid things, but with these I must have three potties, fat and round, one full of malmsey, one of canary, and one brimming full of mine own dear lusty sack. Thus spoke Robin to himself, his mouth growing moist at the corners with the thoughts of the good things he had raised in his own mind. So talking to himself, he came to where the dusty road turned sharply around the hedge, all tender with the green of the coming leaf, and there he saw before him a stout fellow sitting upon a stile, swinging his legs in idleness. All about this lusty rogue dangled divers' pouches and bags of different sizes and kinds, a dozen or more with great wide gaping mouths like a brood of hungry daws. His coat was gathered in at his waist, and was patched with as many colours as there are stripes upon a maypole in the springtide. On his head he wore a great tall leathern cap, and across his knees rested a stout quarterstaff of blackthorn, full as long and heavy as Robin's. As jolly a beggar was he as ever trod the lanes and byways of nodding him shire, for his eyes were as grey as slate, and snapped and twinkled and danced with merriment, and his black hair curled close all over his head in little rings of kinkiness. Hello, good fellow, quoth Robin, when he had come nigh to the other, what art thou doing here this merry day when the flowers are peeping and the buds are swelling? Then the other winked one eye, and straightway trolled forth in a merry voice. I sit upon the stile, and I sing a little while, as I wait for my own true dear oh, for the sun is shining bright, and the leaves are dancing light, and the little fowl sings she is near oh. And so it is with me, bully boy, saving that my doxy cometh not. Now that is a right sweet song, quoth Robin, and were I in the right mind to listen to thee, I could bear well to hear more, but I have two things of seriousness to ask of thee. So listen, I prithee. At this the jolly beggar cocked his head on one side, like a rogue of a magpie. Quoth he, I am an ill jug to pour heavy things into, good friend, and if I mistake not, thou hast few serious words to spare at any time. Nay, quoth jolly Robin, what I would say first is the most serious of all thoughts to me, to wit. Where shall I get somewhat to drink and eat? Sayest thou so, quoth the beggar, merry I make no such serious thoughts upon the matter. I eat when I can get it, and munch my crust when I can get no crumb. Likewise, when there is no ale to be had, I wash the dust from out my throat with a trickle of cold water. I was sitting here as thou cameest upon me, be thinking myself whether I should break my fast or no. I do love to let my hunger grow mightily keen ere I eat, for then a dry crust is as good to me as a venison pasty with sewet and raisins is to stout King Harry. I have a sharp hunger upon me now, but me thinks in a short while it will ripen to a right mellow appetite. Now in good soothe, quoth, merry Robin, laughing, thou hast a quaint tongue betwixt thy teeth, but thou hast truly not but a dry crust about thee. Me thinks thy bags and pouches are fat and lusty of such thin fare. Why, may have there is some other cold fare therein, said the beggar shyly, and hast thou not to drink but cold water, asked Robin? Never so much as a drop, quoth the beggar. Over beyond yon clump of trees is a sweet a little in, as ever thou hast lifted eyelid upon, but I go not thither, for they have a nasty way with me. Once when the good prior of Emmett was dining there, the landlady said a dear little tart of stewed crabs and barley sugar upon the window sill to cool, and seeing it there and fearing it might be lost, I took it with me till that I could find the owner thereof. Ever since then they have acted very ill toward me, yet truth bids me say that they have the best ill there that ever rolled over my tongue. At this Robin laughed aloud, Mary, quoth he, they did ill toward thee for thy kindness, but tell me truly, what hast thou in thy pouches? Why, quoth the beggar peeping into the mouths of his bags, I find here a goodly piece of pigeon pie, wrapped in a cabbage leaf to hold the gravy, here I behold a dainty-streaked piece of brawn, and here a fair lump of white bread. Here I find four otten cakes and a cold knuckle of ham, ha! ensuthed is strange, but here I behold six eggs that must have come by accident from some poultry-yard here about. They are raw, but roasted upon the coals and spread with a piece of butter that I see. "'Peace, good friend,' cried Robin, holding up his hand, "'thou makeest my poor stomach quake with joy for what thou tellest me so sweetly. If thou wilt give me to eat, I will straightway hide me to that little inn, didst tell of, but now, and will bring a skin of ale for thy drinking and mine. "'Friend, thou hast said enough,' said the beggar, getting down from the stile, "'I will feast thee with the best that I have, and bless St. Cedric for thy company. But sweet Chuck, I prithee bring three quarts of ale at least, one for thy drinking and two for mine, for my thirst is such that me thinks I can drink ale as the sands of the River D. drink salt water.' So Robin straightway left the beggar, who upon his part went to a budding lime-bush back of the hedge, and there spread his feast upon the grass, and roasted his eggs upon a little fag at fire, with a deafness gained by long labour in that line. After a while back came Robin bearing a goodly skin of ale upon his shoulder, which he laid upon the grass. Then looking upon the feast spread upon the ground, and a fair sight it was to look upon, he slowly rubbed his hand over his stomach, for to his hungry eyes it seemed the fairest sight that he had beheld in all his life. "'Friend,' said the beggar, let me feel the weight of that skin. Ye truly, quote Robin, help thy self, sweet Chuck, and meantime let me see thy pigeon pie as fresh or no.' So the one seized upon the ale, and the other upon the pigeon pie, and nothing was heard for a while but the munching of food and the gurgle of ale as it left the skin. At last, after a long time had passed thus, Robin pushed the food from him, and heaved a great sigh of deep content, for he felt as though he had been made all over anew. And now, good friend, quote he, leaning upon one elbow, I would have it thee about that other matter of seriousness of which I spoke not long since. How, said the beggar reproachfully, thou wouldst surely not talk of things appertaining to serious affairs upon such ale as this. Nay, quote Robin, laughing, I would not check thy thirst, sweet friend, drink while I talk to thee. Thus it is. I would have thee know that I have taken a liking to thy craft, and would feign have a taste of a beggar's life mine own self. Said the beggar, I marvel not that thou hast taken a liking to my manner of life, good fellow, but to like and to do are two matters of different sorts. I tell thee, friend, one must serve a long apprenticeship ere one can learn to be even so much as a clapper-dudgeon, much lest a crank or an Abraham man. I tell thee, lad, thou art too old to enter upon that which it may take thee years to catch the hang of. May have that may be so, quote Robin, for I bring to mind that gaffer swanthold, saying, Jack Shoemaker maketh ill bread, Tom Baker maketh ill shun. Nevertheless I have a mind to taste a beggar's life, and need but the clothing to be as good as any. I tell thee, fellow, said the beggar, if thou work clad as sweetly as Good St. Wynton, the patron of our craft, thou wouldst never make a beggar. Mary, the first jolly traveller that thou wouldst meet, would beat thee to a pudding, for thrusting thy nose into a craft that belongeth not to thee. Nevertheless, quote Robin, I would have a try at it, and me thinks I shall change clothes with thee, for thy garb seems to be pretty, not to say gay. So not only will I change clothes, but I will give thee two golden angels to boot. I have brought my stout staff with me, thinking that I might have to wrap some one of the brethren of thy cloth over the head by way of argument in this matter, but I love thee so much for the feast thou hast given me, that I would not lift even my little finger against thee, so thou needs not have a crumb of fear. To this the beggar listened, with his knuckles resting upon his hips, and when Robin had ended he cocked his head on one side, and thrust his tongue into his cheek. Re come up, quote he at last, lift thy finger against me, for sooth. Art thou out of thy wits, man? My name is Raccoon Hazel, and I come from the holy well in Flintshire, over by the River Dee. I tell thee, Nave, I have cracked the head of many a better man than thou art, and even now I would scald thy crown for thee, but for the ale thou hast given me. Now thou shalt not have so much as one tag-rag of my coat, even could it save thee from hanging. Now fellow, said Robin, it would ill-suit me to spoil thy pretty head for thee, but I tell thee plainly, that but for this feast I would do that to thee would stop thy travelling the country for many a day to come, keep thy lips shut, lad, or thy luck will tumble out thy mouth with thy speech. Now out, and alas for thee, man, for thou hast bred thyself ill this day, cried the beggar, rising and taking up his staff. Take up thy club and defend thyself, fellow, for I will not only beat thee, but I will take from thee thy money, and give thee not so much as a clipped groat to buy thyself a lump of goose-grease to rub thy cracked crown with all, so defend thyself, I say. Then up leaped Mary Robin and snatched up his staff also, take my money if thou canst, quote he. I promise freely to give thee every farthing if thou dost touch me, and he twirled his staff and his fingers till it whistled again. Then the beggar swung his staff also and struck a mighty blow at Robin, which the omen turned. Three blows the beggar struck, yet never one touched so much as a hair of Robin's head. Then stout Robin saw his chance, and air he could count three, Raccoon's staff was over the hedge, and Raccoon himself lay upon the green grass, with no more motion than you could find in an empty pudding-bag. How now, quote Mary Robin laughing, wilt thou have my hide or my money, sweet Chuck? But to this the other answered never a word. Then Robin, seeing his plight, and that he was stunned with the blow, ran still laughing, and brought the skin of ale and poured some of it on the beggar's head and summed down his throat, so that presently he opened his eyes and looked around as though wondering why he lay upon his back. Then Robin, seeing that he had somewhat gathered the wits that had just been wrapped out of his head, said, Now good fellow, wilt thou change clothes with me, or shall I have to tap the again? Here are two golden angels, if thou wilt give me freely all thy rags and bags and thy cap and things. If thou givest them not freely, I much fear me, I shall have to, and he looked up and down his staff. Then Raccoon sat up, and rubbed the bump on his crown. Now, out upon it, quote he, I did think to dub thee sweetly, fellow. I know not how it is, but I seem, as it were, to have brought more beer than I can drink. If I must give up my clothes, I must, but first promise me, by thy word is a true yeoman, that thou will take not from me but my clothes. I promise on the word of a true yeoman, quote Robin, thinking that the fellow had a few pennies that he would save. Thereupon the beggar drew a little knife that hung at his side, and ripping up the lining of his coat drew fence ten bright golden pounds which he laid upon the ground beside him with a cunning wink at Robin. Now thou mayest have my clothes and welcome, said he, and thou mightest have had them in exchange for thine without the cost of a single farthing, far less two golden angels. Every, quote Robin, laughing, thou art a sly fellow, and I'll tell thee truly, had I known thou had so much money by thee, maybe thou mightst not have carried it away, for I warrant thou didst not come honestly by it. Then each stripped off his clothes and put on those of the other, and as lusty a beggar was Robin Hood as air you could find of a summer's day, but stout raccoon of holy well skipped and leaped and danced for joy of the fair suit of Lincoln Green that he had so gotten, quote he, I'm a gay feathered bird now, truly my dear Maul Pescad would never know me in this dress, thou mayest keep the cold pieces of the feast friend, for I mean to live well and lustily while my money lasts and my clothes are gay. So he turned and left Robin, and crossing the style was gone, but Robin heard him singing from beyond the hedge as he strode away. For Polly is smiling and Molly is glad when the beggar comes in at the door, and Jack and Dick call him a fine lusty lad and the hostess runs up a great score. Then hey Willy Waddykin, stay Billy Waddykin, let the brown ale flow free, flow free, that's the beggar, the man for me. Robin listened to the song ended in the distance, then he also crossed the style into the road, but turned his toes away from where the beggar had gone. The road led up a gentle hill, and up the hill Robin walked, a half score or more of bags dangling about his legs. Onward he strolled for a long time, but other adventure he found not. The road was bare of all else but himself, as he went kicking up little clouds of dust at each footstep, for it was noontide the most peaceful time of all the day next to twilight. All the earth was silent in the restfulness of eating time. The plough horses stood in the furrow munching, with great bags over their noses holding sweet food. The ploughmen sat under the hedge, and the ploughboy also, and they too were munching, each one holding a great piece of bread in one fist, and a great piece of cheese in the other. So Robin, with all the empty road to himself, strode along whistling merrily, his bags and pouches bobbing and dangling at his thighs. At last he came to where a little grass-grown path left the road, and passing through a style and down a hill, led into a little dell and on across a reel in the valley, and up the hill on the other side, till it reached a windmill that stood on the cap of the rise where the wind bent the trees in swaying motion. Robin looked at the spot and liked it, and for no reason but that his fancy led him. He took the little path and walked down the grassy sunny slope of the open meadow, and so came to the little dingle, and ere he knew it, upon four lusty fellows that sat with legs outstretched around a goodly feast spread upon the ground. Four merry beggars were they, and each had slung about his neck a little board that rested upon his breast. One board had written upon it, I am blind, another I am deaf, another I am dumb, and the fourth pity the lame one. But although all these troubles written upon the board seemed so grievous, the four stout fellows sat around feasting as merrily as though Cain's wife had never opened the pothole that held misfortunes and let them forth like a cloud of flies to pester us. The deaf man was the first to hear Robin, for he said, Dark brothers, I hear someone coming. And the blind man was the first to see him, for he said, He is an honest man, brothers, and one of like craft to ourselves. Then the dumb man called to him in a great voice and said, Welcome, brother, come and sit while there is still some of the feast left and a little malmsey in the pothole. At this the lame man who had taken off his wooden leg and unstrapped his own leg, and was sitting with it stretched out upon the grass so as to rest it, made room for Robin among them. And to see thee, brother, said he, holding out the flask of malmsey. Mary coothed Robin laughing and weighing the flask in his hands, airy drank. Me thinks it is no more than seemly of all of you to be glad to see me, seeing that I bring sight to the blind, speech to the dumb, hearing to the deaf, and such a lusty leg to a lame man. I drink to your happiness, brothers, as I may not drink to your health, seeing ye are already hail, wind, and limb. At this all grinned and the blind beggar, who was the chief man among them, and was the broadest shoulders, and most lusty rascal of all, smote Robin upon the shoulder, swearing he was a right merry wag. Wents, come as thou lad, asked the dumb man. Why, coothed Robin, I came this morning from sleeping over night in Sherwood. Is it even so, said the deaf man, I would not for all the money we fore are carrying to Lincoln-town sleep one night in Sherwood. If Robin Hood caught one of our trade in his woodlands, he would, me thinks, clip his ears. He thinks he would, too, coothed Robin, laughing, but what money is this that ye speak of? Then up spake the lame man. Our king, Peter of York, said he, hath sent us to Lincoln with those monies that— Stay, brother Hodge, cooth the blind man, breaking into the talk. I would not doubt our brother here, but bear in mind we know him not. What art thou, brother? Upright man? Jerk man? Clapper dungeon? Domorer? Or Abraham man? At these words Robin looked from one man to the other with mouth agape. Truly, cooth he, I trust that I am an upright man, at least, I strive to be. But I know not what thou means by such jargon, brother. It were much more seemly, me thinks, if yon dumb man, who hath a street voice, would give us a song. At these words a silence fell on all, and after a while the blind man spoke again. Cooth he, thou dost surely jest when thou sayest that thou dost not understand such words. Answer me this. Has thou ever fibbed a chaus quarrens in the Rome-pad for the lure and his bung? Now out upon it, cooth Robin Hood-Testily, and ye make sport of me by pattering such gibberish, it will be ill for all of you, I can tell. I have the best part of a mind to crack the heads of all four of you, and would do so too, but for the sweet moms ye have given me. Brother, pass the pot, lest it grow cold. But all the four beggars leaped to their feet when Robin had done speaking, and the blind man snatched up a heavy knotted cudgel that lay beside him on the grass, as did the others likewise. Then Robin, seeing that things were like to go ill with him, albeit he knew not what all the coil was about, leaped to his feet also, and catching up his trusty staff, clapped his back against the tree, and stood upon his guard against them. How now, cried he, twirling his staff betwixt his fingers? Would you four stout fellows set upon one man? Stand back, ye rascals, or I will score your pates till they have had as many marks upon them as a pot-house door. Are ye mad? I have done you no harm. Thou liest, quoth the one who pretended to be blind, and who, being the lustiest villain, was the leader of the others. Thou liest, for thou hast come upon us as a vile spy, but thine ears have heard too much for thy body's good, and thou goest not forth from this place, unless thou goest feet foremost, for this day thou shalt die. Come, brothers, altogether, down with him. When whirling up his cudgel he rushed upon Robin as an angry bull rushes with a red rag. But Robin was ready for any happening. Crick! Crack! He struck two blows as quick as a wink, and down went the blind man, rolling over and over upon the grass. At this the others bore back, and stood at a little distance, scowling upon Robin. Come on, ye scum, cried he merrily. Here be cakes and ale for all. Now who will be next served? To this speech the beggars answered never a word, but they looked at Robin as great blunderbore looked upon stout Jack the slayer of giants, as though they would feign eat him body and bones. Nevertheless they did not care to come nigh or to him and to his terrible staff. Then seeing them so hesitate, Robin of a sudden leaped upon them, striking even as he leaped. Down went the dumb man, and away flew his cudgel from his hand as he fell. At this the others ducked to avoid another blow, then taking to their heels scampered, the one one way and the other the other, as though they had the west winds boots upon their feet. Robin looked after them laughing, and thought that never had he seen so fleet a runner as the lame man, but neither of the beggars stopped nor turned around, for each felt in his mind the wind of Robin's cudgel about his ears. Then Robin turned to the two stout knaves lying upon the ground, Quote he, these fellow spake somewhat about certain monies they were taking to Lincoln, he thinks I may find it upon the stout blind fellow, who hath as keen sight as Aira trained woodsmen in Nottingham, or Yorkshire. It were a pity to let sound money stay in the pockets of such thieving knaves. So saying he stooped over the burly rascal, and searched among his rags and tatters, till presently his fingers felt a leathern pouch, slung around his body beneath his patched and tattered coat. Then he stripped away, and weighing it in his hands, bethought himself that it was mighty heavy. It were sweet things, said he to himself, if this were filled with gold instead of copper pence. Then sitting down upon the grass he opened the pocket, and looked into it. There he found four round rolls, wrapped up in dressed sheepskin. One of these rolls he opened, then his mouth gaped and his eyes stared, I wot as though they would never close again. For what did he see but fifty pounds of bright golden money? He opened the other pockets, and found in each one the same fifty bright new-stamped golden pounds. With Robin I have oft heard that the beggars' guild was overly rich, but never did I think that they sent such sums as this to their treasury. I shall take it with me, for it will be better used for charity and the good of my merry band than in the enriching of such knaves as these. So saying he rolled up the money in the sheepskin again, and putting it back in the purse he thrust the pouch into his own bosom. Then taking up the flask of Momsie he held it toward the two fellows lying on the grass, and, quote he, sweet friends, I drink your health and thank you dearly for what ye have so given me this day. And so I wish you good den. Then taking up his staff he left the spot and went merrily on his way. But when the two stout beggars that had been wrapped upon the head roused themselves and sat up, and when the others had gotten over their fright and come back, they were as sad and woe be gone as four frogs in dry weather, for two of them had cracked crowns, their Momsie was all gone, and they had not so much as a farthing to cross their palms with all. But after Robin left the little dell he strode along merrily, singing as he went, and so blithe was he in such a stout beggar and with all so fresh and clean that every merry lass he met had a sweet word for him and felt no fear, while the very dogs that most times hate the sight of a beggar snuffed at his legs and friendly wise and wagged their tails pleasantly, for dogs know an honest man by his smell and an honest man Robin was, in his own way. Thus he went along till at last he had come to the wayside cross Nye Allerton, and being somewhat tired he sat down to rest upon the grassy bank in front of it. It groweth Nye time, coothy to himself, that I were getting back again to Sherwood, yet it would please me well to have one more merry adventure ere I go back again to my jolly band. So he looked up the road and down the road to see who might come, till at last he saw someone drawing near, riding upon a horse. When the traveller came Nye enough for him to see well, Robin laughed, for a strange enough figure he cut. He was a thin, wise and man, and to look upon him you could not tell whether he was thirty years old or sixty. So dried up was he even to skin and bone. As for the nag, it was as thin as the rider, and both looked as though they had been baked in Mother Huddle's oven, where folk are dried up so that they live forever. But although Robin laughed at the drool sight he knew the wayfarer to be a certain rich corninggrocer of workshop, who more than once had brought all the grain in the countryside and held it till it reached even famine prices, thus making much money from the needs of poor people, and for this he was hated far and near by everyone that knew ought of him. So after a while the corninggrocer came riding up to where Robin sat, whereupon Mary Robin stepped straightway forth in all his rags and tatters, his bags and pouches dangling about him, and laid his hand upon the horse's bridal rain, calling upon the other to stop. Who art thou, fellow, that doth dare to stop me thus upon the king's highway? said the lean man in a dry, sour voice. Pity a poor beggar, quoth Robin, give me but a farthing to buy me a piece of bread. Now out upon thee snarled the other, such sturdy rogues as thou art are better safe in the prisons or dancing upon nothing with a hempen collar about the neck than strolling the highway so freely. Tutt, quoth Robin, how thou'st talkest, thou and I are brothers men. Do we not both take from the poor people that which they can ill spare? Do we not make our livings by doing not of any good? Do we not both live without touching palm to honest work? Have we either of us ever rubbed thumbs over honestly gained farthings? Go to! We are brothers, I say, only thou art rich and I am poor, wherefore I prithee once more, give me a penny. First thou prayt so to me, sirrah, cried the corn and grocer in a rage. Now I will have thee soundly whipped if ever I catch thee in any town where the law can lay hold of thee, as for giving thee a penny I swear to thee that I have not so much as a single groat in my purse, where Robin hood himself to take me he might search me from crown to heel without finding the smallest piece of money upon me. I trust I am too sly to travel so nigh to sure wood with money in my pouch, and that thief at large in the woods. When Mary Robin looked up and down, as if to see that there was no one nigh, then coming close to the corn and grocer he stood on tiptoe and spake in his ear. Thinkest thou in sooth that I am a beggar, as I seem to be? Look upon me, there is not a grain of dirt upon my hands, or my face or my body. Didst thou ever see a beggar so? I tell thee I am as honest a man as thou art. Look friend! Here he took the purse of money from his breast, and showed to the dazzle dyes of the corn and grocer the bright golden pieces. Friend! These rags serve but to hide an honest rich man from the eyes of Robin Hood. Put up thy money lad, cried the other quickly, art thou a fool to trust to beggar's rags to shield thee from Robin Hood? If he caught thee he would strip thee to the skin, for he hates a lusty beggar as he doth a fat priest or those of my kind. Is it indeed so, quoth Robin, had I known this may have I had not come hereabouts in this garb, but I must go forward now as much depends upon my journeying. Where goest thou, friend? I go to Grantham, said the corn and grocer, but I shall lodge to-night at Newark if I can get so far upon my way. Why I myself am on the way to Newark, quoth Mary Robin, so that his two honest men are better than one in roads beset by such a fellow as this Robin Hood, I will jog along with thee if thou hast no dislike to my company. Why, as thou art an honest fellow and a rich fellow, said the corn and grocer, I mind not thy company, but in sooth I have no great fondness for beggars. Then forward, quoth Robin, for the day wanes, and it will be dark ere we reach Newark. So off they went, the lean horse hobbling along as before, and Robin running beside, albeit he was so quaking with laughter within him that he could hardly stand. Yet he dared not laugh aloud, lest the corn and grocer should suspect something. So they travelled along till they reached a hill just on the outskirts of Sherwood. Here the lean man checked his lean horse into a walk, for the road was steep, and he wished to save the nag's strength, having far to go ere you reach Newark. Then he turned in his saddle and spake to Robin again, for the first time since they had left the cross. Here is thy greatest danger, friend, said he, for here we are niest to that vile thief Robin Hood, and the place where he dwells. Beyond this we come again to the open honest country, and are more safe in our journeying. Alas, quoth Robin, I would that I had as little money by me as thou hast, for this day I fear that Robin Hood will get every groat of my wealth. Then the other looked at Robin and winked cunningly, quoth he, I tell thee, friend, that I have nigh as much by me as thou hast, but it is hidden so that a never-a-nave in Sherwood would find it. Thou dost surely jest, quoth Robin, how could one hide so much as two hundred pounds upon his person? Now as thou art so honest to fellow, and with all so much younger than I am, I will tell thee what I have told to no man in all the world before, and thus thou mayest learn never again to do such a foolish thing as to trust to beggars garb to guard thee against Robin Hood. Seeest thou these clogs upon my feet? Ye quoth Robin laughing, truly they are large enough for any man to see, even where his sight as foggy as that of Peter Patur, who never could see when it was time to go to work. Peace, friends, said the corn and grocer, for this is no matter for jesting. The souls of these clogs are not what they seem to be. For each one is a sweet little box, and by twisting the second nail from the toe, the upper of the shoe and part of the sole lifts up like a lid, and in the spaces within are four score and ten bright golden pounds in each shoe, all wrapped in hair, to keep them from clinking and so telling tales of themselves. When the corn and grocer had told this, Robin broke into a roar of laughter, and laying his hands upon the bridal rain, stopped the sad-looking nag, stay good friend, quoth he between bursts of merriment. Thou art the slyest old fox that ere I saw in all my life, in the souls of his shewn, quotha. If ever I trust a poor seeming man again, shave my head and paint it blue. A corn factor, a horse jockey, an estate agent and a jack-dough for cunningness, say I, and he laughed again till he shook in his shoes with mirth. All this time the corn and grocer had been staring at Robin, his mouth agape with wonder. Art thou mad, quoth he, to talk in this way, so loud and in such a place? Let us forward and save thy mirth till we are safe and sound at Newark. Nay, quoth Robin, the tears of merriment wet on his cheeks, on second thoughts I go no farther than here, for I have good friends hereabouts. Thou mayest go forward if thou dost list, thou sweet pretty fellow, but thou must go forward barefoot, for I am afraid that thy shewn must be left behind. Off with them, friend, for I tell thee I have taken a great fancy to them. At these words the corn factor grew pale as a linen napkin. Who art thou that talkest so, said he? Then Mary Robin laughed again, and, quoth he, men here about, call me Robin Hood. So sweet friend, thou hast best do my bidding and give me thy shoes, wherefore hasten I prithee, or else thou will not get to fare Newark town till after dark. At the sound of the name of Robin Hood the corn factor quaked with fear, so that he had to seize his horse by the mane to save himself from falling off its back. Then straightway and without more words he stripped off his clogs and let them fall upon the road. Robin, still holding the bridal reins, stooped and picked them up. Then he said, sweet friend, I am used to ask those that I have dealing with to come and feast at Sherwood with me. I will not ask thee because of our pleasant journey together, for I tell thee there will be those in Sherwood that would not be so gentle with thee as I have been. The name of corn and grocer leaves a nasty taste upon the tongue of all honest men. Take a fool's advice of me and come no more so nigh to Sherwood, or may have some day thou mayest of a sudden find a cloth-yard shaft between thy ribs. So with this I give thee good den. Hereupon he clapped his hand to the horse's flank and off went nag and rider, but the man's face was all bedewed with the sweat of fright, and never again I what, was he found so close to Sherwood Forest as he had been this day. Robin stood and looked after him, and when he was fairly gone turned, laughing, and entered the forest carrying the shoes in his hand, that night in sweet Sherwood the red fires glowed brightly in wavering light on tree and bush, and all around sad or lay the stout fellows of the band to hear Robin Hood and Little John tell their adventures. All listened closely, and again and again the woods rang with shouts of laughter. When all was told, Friar Tuck spoke up, Good Master said he, Thou hast had a pretty time, but still I hold to my saying, that the life of the barefoot Friar is the merrier of the two. Nay, quoth Will Stutley, I hold with our Master, that he hath had the pleasanter doings of the two, for he hath had two stout bouts at quarter-staff this day. So some of the band held with Robin Hood, and some with Little John, as for me, I think, but I leave it with you to say for yourselves which you hold with. End of Chapter 17. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This recording is by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle. CHAPTER XVIII. Robin Hood shoots before Queen Eleanor. The high road stretched wide and dusty in the hot, summer afternoon sun, and the trees stood motionless along the roadside. All across the meadowlands the hot air danced and quivered, and in the limpid waters of the lowland brook, spanned by a little stone bridge, the fish hung motionless above the yellow gravel, and the dragonfly sat quite still, perched upon the sharp tip of a spike of the rushes, with its wings glistening in the sun. Along the road a youth came riding upon a fair milk-white barb, and the folk that he had passed stopped and turned and looked after him, for never had so lovely a lad or one so gaily clad been seening not in him before. He could not have been more than sixteen years of age, and was as fair as any maiden. His long yellow hair flowed behind him as he rode along, all clad in silk and velvet, with jewels flashing and dagger jingling against the pommel of the saddle. Thus came the Queen's Page, young Richard Partington, from famous London town down into Nottinghamshire, upon her Majesty's bidding, to seek Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest. The road was hot and dusty, and his journey had been long, for that day he had come all the way from Leicester town, a good twenty miles and more. Wherefore young Partington was right glad when he saw before him a sweet little inn, all shady and cool beneath the trees, in front of the door of which a sign hung pendent, bearing the picture of a blue boar. Here he drew rain and called loudly for a pottle of relish wine to be brought him, for stout country ale was too coarse a drink for this young gentleman. Five lusty fellows sat upon the bench beneath the pleasant shade of the widespreading oak in front of the inn door, drinking ale and beer, and all stared amain at this fair and gallant lad. Two of the stoutest of them were clothed in linking green, and a great heavy oak and staff leaned against the gnarled oak-tree trunk beside each fellow. The landlord came and brought a pottle of wine and a long narrow glass upon a sour, which he held up to the page as he sat upon his horse. Young Partington poured forth the bright yellow wine, and holding the glass aloft cried, Here is to the health and long happiness of my royal mistress, the noble Queen Eleanor, and may my journey and her desiring soon have end, and I find a certain stout yeoman men call Robin Hood. At these words all stared, but presently the two stout yeoman in linking green began whispering together. Then one of the two, whom Partington thought to be the tallest and stoutest fellow he had ever beheld, spoke up and said, What seekest thou of Robin Hood, Sir Page, and what does our good Queen Eleanor wish of him? I ask this of thee, not foolishly, but with reason, for I know somewhat of this stout yeoman. And thou knowest ought of him, good fellow, said Young Partington, Thou wilt do great service to him, and great pleasure to our royal Queen by aiding me to find him. Then up spake the other yeoman, who was a handsome fellow, with sunburned face and nut-brown, curling hair. Thou hast an honest look, Sir Page, and our Queen is kind and true to all stout yeoman. He thinks I and my friend here might safely guide thee to Robin Hood, for we know where he may be found. Yet I tell thee plainly, we would not for all merry England have ought of harm befall him. Set thy mind at ease, I bring not of ill with me, quote Richard Partington. I bring a kind message to him from our Queen, therefore, and you know where he is to be found, I pray you to guide me hither. Then the two yeoman looked at one another again, and the tall man said, Surely it were safe to do this thing, will! We're at the other knotted. Thereupon both arose, and the tall yeoman said, We think thou art true, Sir Page, and meanest no harm, therefore we will guide thee to Robin Hood, as thou dost wish. Then Partington paid his score, and the yeoman coming forward, they all straight way departed upon their way. Under the greenwood tree, in the cool shade that spread all around upon the swad, with flickering lights here and there, Robin Hood and many of his band lay upon the soft green grass, while Alan O'Dale sang and played upon his sweetly sounding harp. All listened in silence, for young Alan's singing was one of the greatest joys in all the world to them. But as they so listened, there came of a sudden the sound of a horse's feet, and presently little John and Will Stootley came forth from the forest path into the open glade, young Richard Partington riding between them upon his milk-white horse. The three came toward where Robin Hood sat, all the band staring with might and main, for never had they seen so gay aside as this young Page, nor one so richly clad in silks and velvets and gold and jewels. Then Robin arose and stepped forth to meet him, and Partington leaped from his horse, and doffing his cap of crimson velvet, met Robin as he came. Now welcome, cried Robin. Now welcome, fair youth, and tell me, I, Prithee, what bring us one of so fair a presence and clad in such noble garb to our poor forest of share-wood? Then young Partington said, If I air not, thou art the famous Robin Hood, and these thy stout band of outlawed yeoman, to thee I bring greetings from our noble Queen Eleanor, off tath she's heard thee spoken of, and thy merry doings hereabouts, and feign would she behold thy face, therefore she bids me tell thee, that if thou wilt presently come to London-town, she will do all inner power to guard thee against harm, and will send thee back safe to share-wood forest again. Four days hence, in Finsbury fields, our good King Henry, of great renown, holdeth a grand shooting-match, and all the most famous archers of merry England will be there at. Our Queen would feign see thee strive with these, knowing that if thou wilt come, thou wilt with little doubt carry off the prize. Therefore she hath sent me with this greeting, and furthermore sends thee as a sign of great good will, this golden ring from off her own fair thumb, which I give herewith into thy hands. Then Robin Hood bowed his head, and, taking the ring, kissed it right loyally, and then slipped it upon his little finger. Quotee, Sooner would I lose my life than this ring, and ere it departs from me, my hand shall be cold in death, or stricken off at the wrist. Fair Sir Page, I will do our Queen's bidding, and I will presently hide with thee to London, but ere we go, I will feast thee here in the woodlands with the very best we have. It may not be, said the Page. We have no time to tarry, therefore get thyself ready straightway, and if there be any of thy ban that thou wouldst take with thee, our Queen bids me say that she will make them right welcome likewise. Truly, thou art right, quotee Robin, and we have but short time to stay, therefore I will get me ready presently. I will choose three of my men only, to go with me, and these three shall be Little John, my own true right-hand man, Will Scarlett, my cousin, and Alan Adele, my minstrel, go lads, and get she ready straightway, and we will presently off with all speed that we may. Come, Will Stoodley, you shall be the chief of the band while I am gone. Then Little John and Will Scarlett and Alan Adele ran leaping full of joy to make themselves ready, while Robin also prepared himself for the journey. After a while they all four came forth, and a right fair sight they made, for Robin was clad in blue from head to foot, and Little John and Will Scarlett in good-linking green, and as for Alan Adele, he was dressed in scarlet from the crown of his head to the toes of his pointed shoes. Each man wore beneath his cap a little head covering of burnish steel set with rivets of gold, and underneath his jerken a coat of linked mail, as fine as carted wool, yet so tough that no arrow could pierce it. Then seeing all was ready, young Partitan mounted his horse again, and the yeoman having shaken hands all around, the five departed upon their way. That night they took up their inn in Melton Malbury, in Leicestershire, and the next night they lodged at Kettering, in Northamptonshire, and the next at Bedford Town, and the next at St. Albans in Hertfordshire. This place they left not long after the middle of the night, and travelling fast through the tender dawning of the summer day, when the dews lay shining on the meadows and faint mist hung in the dales, when the birds sang their sweetest and the cobwebs beneath the hedges glimmered like fairy cloth of silver. They came at last to the towers and walls of famous London town, while the morn was still young and all golden toward the east. Queen Eleanor sat in her royal bower, through the open casements of which poured the sweet yellow sunshine and great floods of golden light. All about her stood her ladies in waiting, chatting in low voices, while she herself sat dreamily, where the mild air came softly drifting into the room, laden with the fresh perfumes of the sweet red roses that bloomed in the great garden beneath the wall. To her came one who said that her page, Richard Partington, and four stout yeoman, waited her pleasure in the court below. Then Queen Eleanor rose joyously, and bade them be straightaway shown into her presence. Thus Robin Hood and Little John, and Will Scarlett and Allen and Adale, came before the Queen into her own royal bower. Then Robin kneeled before the Queen, with his hands folded upon his breast, saying in simple phrase, Here am I, Robin Hood, Thou didst bid me come, and lo, I do thy bidding. I give myself to thee as thy true servant, and will do thy commanding, even if it be to the shedding of the last drop of my life's blood. But Queen Eleanor smiled pleasantly upon him, bidding him to arise. Then she made them all be seated to rest themselves after the long journey. Each food was brought them, and noble wines, and she had her own pages to wait upon the wants of the yeoman. At last, after they had eaten all they could, she began questioning them of their merry adventures. Then they told her all of the lusty doings herein spoken of, and among others that concerning the Bishop of Herford and Sir Richard of the Lee, and how the bishop had abided three days in Sherwood Forest. At this the Queen and the ladies about her laughed again and again, for they pictured to themselves the stout bishop abiding in the forest, and ranging the woods and lusty sport with Robin in his band. Then when they had told all that they could bring to mine, the Queen asked Alan to sing to her, for his fame as a minstrel had reached even to the court at London Town. So straightway Alan took up his harp in his hand, and without more asking, touched the strings lightly till they all rang sweetly, then he sang thus. Gentle river, gentle river, bright thy crystal waters flow, sliding where the aspen shiver, gliding where the lilies blow, singing over pebbled shallows, kissing blossoms bending low, breaking neither dipping swallows, purpling where the breezes blow, floating on thy breast forever, down thy current I could glide, grief and pain should reach me never, on thy bright and gentle tide. So my aching heart seeks thine love, there to find its rest and peace, for through loving bliss is mine love, and my many troubles cease. Thus Alan sang, and as he sang all eyes dwelt upon him, and not a sound broke the stillness, and even after he had done, the silence hung for a short space. So the time passed till the hour drew nigh for the holding of the great archery match in Finnsbury fields. A gay sight were fabulous Finnsbury fields on that bright and sunny morning of lusty summertime. Along the end of the meadow stood the booths of the different bands of archers, for the king's yeoman were divided into companies of four-score men, and each company had a captain over it. So on the bright greensward stood ten booths of striped canvas, a booth for each band of the royal archers, and at the peak of each fluttered a flag in the mellow air, and the flag was the color that belonged to the captain of each band. From the center booth hung the yellow flag of Teppas, the famous bow-bearer of the king. Next to it, on one hand, was the blue flag of Gilbert of the white hand, and on the other the blood-red pennant of Stout Young Clifton of Buckinghamshire. The seven other archer captains were also men of great renown. Among them were Egbert of Kenton, William of Southampton, but those first name were most famous of all. The noise of many voices in talk and laughter came from within the booths, and in and out ran the attendance like ants about an ant-hill. Some bore ale and beer, and some bundles of bow-strings or sheaves of arrows. On each side of the archery range were rows upon rows of seats reaching high aloft, and in the center of the north side were a raised dais for the king and queen shaded by canvas of gay colors, and hung about with streaming silken pennants of red and blue and green and white. As yet the king and queen had not come, but all the other benches were full of people, rising head above head high aloft till it made the eye dizzy to look upon them. Eighth score yards distant from the mark, from which the archers were to shoot, stood ten fair targets, each target marked by a flag of the color belonging to the band that was to shoot there at, so all was ready for the coming of the king and queen. At last a great blast of bugle sounded, and into the meadow came riding six trumpeters with silver trumpets, from which hung velvet banners, heavy with rich workings of silver and gold thread. Behind these came stout King Henry upon a dapple-gray stallion, with his queen beside him upon a milk-white palfrey. On either side of them walked the yeoman of the guard, the bright sunlight flashing from the polished blades of the steel-howbirds they carried. Behind these came the court in a great crowd, so that presently all the lawn was alive with bright colors, with silk and velvet, with waving plumes and gleaming gold, with flashing jewels and sword hilts, a gallant sight on that bright summer day. Then all the people arose and shouted, so that voices sounded like the storm upon the Cornish coast, when the dark waves run upon the shore and leap and break, surging amid the rocks. So amid the roaring and surging of the people, and the waving of scarfs and kerchiefs, the king and queen came to their place, and getting down from their horses, mounted the broad stairs that led to the raised platform, and there took their seats on two thrones, bedecked with purple silks and cloths of silver and of gold. When all was quiet, a bugle sounded, and straight way the archers came marching in order from their tents, forty score they were in all, as stoured a band of yeoman as could be found in all the wide world. So they came in orderly fashion, and stood in front of the dais where King Henry and his queens sat. King Henry looked up and down their ranks right proudly, for his heart warmed within him at the sight of such a gallant band of yeoman. Then he bade his herald, Sir Hugh de Malbury stand forth and proclaim the rules governing the game. Sir Hugh stepped to the edge of the platform, and spoke in a loud, clear voice, and thus he said, that each man should shoot seven arrows at the target that belong to his band, and of the four score yeoman of each band, the three that shot the best should be chosen. These three should shoot three arrows a piece, and the one that shot the best should again be chosen. Then each of these should again shoot three arrows a piece, and the one that shot the best should have the first prize, the one that shot the next best should have the second, and the one that shot the next best should have the third prize. Each of the others should have four score silver pennies for his shooting. The first prize was to be two score and ten golden pounds, a silver bugle horn inlaid with gold, and a quiver with ten white arrows tipped with gold, and feathered with a white swan's wing therein. The second prize was to be five score of the fattest bucks that run on Dalin Lee, to be shot when yeoman that won them chose. The third prize was to be two tons of good renish wine. So Sir Hugh spoke, and when he had done, all the archers waved their bosa loft and shouted, that each band turned and marched in order back to its place. And now the shooting began. The captains first taking stand and speeding their shafts, and then making room for the men who shot each in turn after them. Two hundred and eighty score shafts were shot in all, and so deftly were they sped, that when the shooting was done each target looked like the back of a hedgehog when the farm dog snuff sat it. A long time was taken in this shooting, and when it was over the judges came forward, looked carefully at the targets, and proclaimed in a loud voice which three had shot the best from the separate bands. Then a great hub above voices arose, each man among the crowd that looked on calling for his favorite archer. Then ten fresh targets were brought forward, and every sound was hushed as the archers took their places once more. This time the shooting was more speedily done, for only nine shafts were shot by each band. Not an arrow missed the targets, but in that of Gilbert of the White Hand five arrows were in the small white spot that marked the center, and of these five three were sped by Gilbert. Then the judges came forward again, and looking at the targets called aloud the names of the archer chosen as the best bowmen of each band. Of these Gilbert of the White Hand led, for six of the ten arrows he had shot had lodged in the center, but Stout Teppas and Young Clifton trod close upon his heels, yet the others stood a fair chance for the second or third place. And now amid the roaring of the crowd, those ten Stout fellows that were left went back to their tents to rest for a while and change their bow strings, for not must fail at this next round. No hand must tremble or eye grow dim because of weariness. Then while the deep buzz and hum of talking sounded all around like the noise of the wind in the leafy forest, Queen Eleanor turned to the king and, quote she, "'Thinkest thou that these yeomans so chosen are the very best archers in all merry England?' "'Yay, truly,' said the king, smiling, for he was well pleased with the sport that he had seen. "'And I tell thee that not only are they the best archers in all merry England, but in all the wide world beside.' "'What wouldst thou say,' quoth Queen Eleanor, if I were to find three archers to match the best three yeoman of all thy guard?' "'I would say thou hast done what I could not do,' said the king, laughing, for I tell thee there lives not in all the world three archers to match Teppas and Gilbert and Clifton of Buckingham sure.' "'Now,' said the queen, "'I know of three yeoman, and in truth I have seen them not long since, that I would not fear to match against any three that thou canst choose from among all thy forty-score archers, and moreover I will match them here this very day, but I will only match them with thy archers, providing that thou wilt guard, grant a free pardon to all that may come in my behalf.' At this the king laughed loud and long, truly said he, "'Thou art taking up with strange matters for a queen. If thou wilt bring these three fellows that thou speakest of, I will promise faithfully to give them free pardon for forty days, to come or to go wheresoever they please, nor will I harm a hair of their heads in all that time. Moreover if these that thou bringest shoot better than my yeoman, pardon for man, they shall have the prizes for themselves according to their shooting. But as thou hast so taken up of a sudden with sports of this kind, hast thou a mind for a wager?' "'Why, in sooth,' said Queen Eleanor, laughing, "'I know not of such matters, but if thou hast a mind to do somewhat in that way, I will strive to pleasure thee. What wilt thou wager upon thy men?' Then the merry king laughed again, for he dearly loved goodly jest. So he said, amidst his laughter, "'I will wager three ten tons of relish wine, ten tons of the stoutest ale, and ten score bows of tempered Spanish yew with quivers and arrows to match.' All that stood around smiled at this, for it seemed a merry wager for a king to give a queen, but Queen Eleanor bowed her head quietly. "'I will take thy wager,' said she, for I know right well where to place those things that thou hast spoken of. Now who will be on my side in this matter?' And she looked around upon them that stood about, but no one spake or cared to wager upon the queen's side against such archers as Teppas and Gilbert and Clifton. Then the queen spoke again, "'Now who will back me in this wager? Will thou my Lord Bishop of Hareford?' Nay, quote the bishop hastily, it ill befits one of my cloth to deal in such matters. Moreover there are no such archers as his majesties in all the world. Therefore I will but lose my money.' "'Me thinks the thought of thy gold weeth more heavily with thee than the rum to thy cloth,' said the queen, smiling, and at this a ripple of laughter went around, for everyone knew how fond the bishop was of his money. Then the queen turned to a knight, who stood near, whose name was Sir Robert Lee. "'Will thou back me in this matter?' said she. "'Thou art surely rich enough to risk so much for the sake of a lady.' "'To pleasure my queen I will do it,' said Sir Robert Lee. But for the sake of no other in all the world would I wager a groat, for no man can stand against Teppas and Gilbert and Clifton.' Then turning to the king, Queen Eleanor said, "'I want no such aid as Sir Robert giveeth me, but against thy wine and beer and stout bows of you I wager this girdle all set with jewels from around my waist, and surely that is worth more than thine.' "'Now I take thy wager,' quothed the king, send for thy archers straight way. But here come forth the others. Let them shoot, and then I will match those that win against all the world.' "'So be it,' said the queen. Thereupon, beckoning to young Richard Partington, she which whispered something in his ear, and straightway the page bowed and left the place, crossing the meadow to the other side of the range, where he was presently lost in the crowd. At this all that stood around whispered to one another, wondering what it all meant, and what three men the queen was about to set against these famous archers of the king's guard. And now the ten archers of the king's guard took their stand again, and all the great crowd was hushed to the stillness of death. Slowly and carefully each man shot his shafts, and so deep was the silence that you could hear every arrow wrap against the target as it struck it. Then when the last shaft had sped, a great roar went up, and the shooting, I wot, was well worthy of the sound. Once again Gilbert had lodged three arrows in the white. Tepis came second with two in the white, and one in the black ring next to it. But Stout Clifton had gone down, and Hubert of Suffolk had taken the third place. For while both of these two good yeoman had lodged two in the white, Clifton had lost one shot upon the fourth ring, and Hubert came in with one in the third. All the arches around Gilbert's booth shouted for joy till their throats were hoarse, tossing their caps aloft and shaking hands with one another. In the midst of all the noise and hubbub five men came walking across the lawn toward the king's pavilion. The first was Richard Partington, and was known to most folk there, but the others were strange to everybody. Beside young Partington walked a yeoman clad in blue, and behind in came three others, two in Lincoln Green and one in Scarlet. This last yeoman carried three stout bows of yew-tree, two fancifully inlaid with silver, and one with gold. While these five men came walking across the meadow, a messenger came running from the king's booth, and summoned Gilbert and Tepis and Hubert to co-with him. And now the shouting quickly ceased. For all saw that something unwanted was to ward, so the folk took up in their places and leaned forward to see what was the adieu. When Partington and the others came before the spot where the king and queen sat, the four yeoman bent their knees and doffed their caps unto her. King Henry leaned far forward and stared at them closely, but the bishop of Hereford, when he saw their faces, started as though stung by a wasp. He opened his mouth as though about to speak, but looking up he saw the queen gazing at him with a smile upon her lips. So he said nothing, but bit his nether-lip while his face was as red as a cherry. Then the queen leaned forward and spake in a clear voice. "'Luxly,' said she, "'I have made a wager with the king that thou and two of thy men can out-shoot any three that he can send against you. Will thou do my best for my sake?' "'Yay,' quote Robin Hood, to whom she spake, "'I will do my best for thy sake, and if I fail, I make my vow never to finger boasting more.' Now, although little John had been somewhat abashed in the queen's bower, he felt himself the sturdy fellow he was when the soles of his feet pressed green grass again. So he said boldly, "'Now, blessings on thy sweet face, say I, and there lived a man that would not do his best for thee, I will say not, but only I would like to have a cracking of his knave's peat.' "'Peace, little John,' said Robin Hood, hastily in a low voice. But good queen Eleanor laughed aloud, and a ripple of merriment sounded all over the booth. The bishop of Airford did not laugh, neither did the king, but he turned to the queen and, quote he, "'Who are these men who thou hast brought before us?' Then up spake the bishop hastily, for he could hold his peace no longer.' "'Your Majesty,' quote he, "'Yon fellow in blue is a certain outlaw thief of the mid-country, named Robin Hood. Yon tall strapping villain, go by the name of little John, and the other fellow in green is a certain back-sliding gentleman known as Will Scarlett, the man in red is a rogue of a northern minstrel, named Alan O'Dale.' At the speech the king's brows drew together blackly, and he turned to the queen. "'Is this true?' said he sternly. "'Yay,' said the queen, smiling. The bishop hath told the truth, and truly he should know them well. For he and two of his friars spent three days in merry sport with Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest. I did little think that the good bishop would so betray his friends. But bear in mind that thou hast pledged thy promise for the safety of these good yeoman for forty days.' "'I will keep my promise,' said the king, in a deep voice that showed the anger in his heart. But when these forty days are gone, let this outlaw look to himself, for may have things will not go so smoothly with him as he would like.' Then he turned to his archers, who stood near the Sherwood yeoman, listening and wondering it all that passed. Quotee, Robert, and thou teppas, and thou Hubert, I have pledged myself that ye shall shoot against these three fellows. If ye out-shoot the knaves, I will fill your caps with silver pennies. If ye fail, ye shall lose your prizes that ye have won so fairly, and they go to them that shoot against ye man to man. Do your best, lads, and if ye win this bout ye shall be glad of it to the last days of your life. Go now, and get you gone to the buts.' Then the three archers of the king turned and went back to their booths, and Robin and his men went to their places at the mark from which they were to shoot. Then they strung their bows and made themselves ready, looking over their quivers of arrows, and picking out the roundest and the best feathered. But when the king's archers went to their tents they told their friends all that had passed, and how these four men were the famous Robin Hood and three of his men to it, Little John, Will Scarlett, and Alan Adele. The news of this buzzed around the archers and the booths, for there was not a man there that had not heard of these great mid-country yeoman. From the archers the news was taken up by the crowd that looked on at the shooting, so that at last everybody stood up, craning their necks to catch sight of the famous outlaws. Six fresh targets were now set up, one for each man that was to shoot, whereupon Gilbert and Tepas and Hubert came straight away forth from the booths. Then Robin Hood and Gilbert of the White Hand tossed a farthing aloft to see who should lead in the shooting, and the lot fell to Gilbert's side. Thereupon he called upon Hubert of Suffolk to lead. Hubert took his place, planted his foot firmly, and fitted a fair smooth arrow. Then, breathing upon his fingertips, he drew the string slowly and carefully. The arrow sped true and lodged in the White. Again he shot, and again he hit the clout. A third shaft he sped, but this time failed of the center, and but struck the Black, yet not more than a finger's breadth from the White. At this a shout went up, for it was the best shooting that Hubert had yet done that day. Suddenly Robin laughed, and, quoth he, Thou wilt have an ill time bettering that round, Will, for it is thy turn next. Brace thy thues, lad, and bring not shame upon Sherwood. Then Will Scarlet took his place, but because of overcaution he spoiled his target with the very first arrow that he sped, for he hit the next ring to the Black, the second from the center. This Robin bit his lips. Lad, lad, quoth he, hold not the string so long! Have I not often told thee what gaffer swanthold saith, that overcaution spilleth the milk? To this Will Scarlet took heed. So the next arrow he shot lodged fairly in the center ring. Again he shot, and again he smote the center. But for all that Stout Hubert had outshot him, and showed the better target. Then all those that looked on clapped their hands for joy, because that Hubert had overcome the stranger. Quoth the King Grimly to the Queen, If thy archer shoot no better than that, Thou art like to lose thy wager, lady! But Queen Eleanor smiled, for she looked for better things from Robin Hood and Little John. And now Tepas took his place to shoot. He also took over heed to what he was about, and so he fell into Will Scarlet's error. The first arrow he struck into the center ring, but the second missed its mark, and smote the black. The last arrow was tipped with luck, for it smote the very center of the clout, upon the black spot that marked it. Quoth Robin Hood, that is the sweetest shot that hath been sped this day! But nevertheless, friend Tepas, thy cake is burned, me thinks! Little John, it is thy turn next. Although Little John took his place as bitten, and shot his three arrows quickly, he never lowered his bow arm in all the shooting, but fitted each shaft with his long bow raised. Yet all three of his arrows smote the center within easy distance of the black. At this, no sound of shouting was heard, for, although it was the best shooting that hath been done that day, the folk of Londontown did not like to see the stout Tepas overcome by a fellow from the countryside, even where he is famous as Little John. And now stout Gilbert of the White Hand took his place, and shot with the greatest care. And again, for the third time in one day, he struck all three shafts into the clout. Well done, Gilbert! Quoth Robin Hood, smiting him upon the shoulder. I make my vow, thou art one of the best archers that ever mine eyes beheld. Thou shouldst be a free and merry ranger like us, lad, for thou art better fitted for the Greenwood than for the cobblestones and gray walls of Londontown. So saying, he took his place, and drew a fair round arrow from his quiver, which he turned over and over ere he fitted it to his bowstring. Then the king muttered in his beard. Now, blessed St. Hubert, if thou wilt but jog that rogue's elbow so as to make him smite even the second ring, I will give eight score waxing candles, three fingers' breadth in thickness to thy chapel nigh matching. But it may be St. Hubert's ears were stuffed with tau, for he seemed not to hear the king's prayer this day. Having gotten three shafts to his liking, Mary Robin looked carefully to his bowstring ere he shot. Ye, quoth he to Gilbert, who stood nigh him to watch his shooting, thou shouldst pay us a visit at Mary Sherwood. Here he drew the bowstring to his ear. In London, here he loosed his shaft. Thou canst find not to shoot at but rooks and daws. There one can tickle the ribs of the noblestags in England. So he shot even while he talked, yet the shaft lodged not more than half an inch from the very centre. By my soul, cried Gilbert, art thou the devil in blue to shoot him that wise? Nay, quoth Robin laughing. Not quite so well as that, I trust. And he took up another shaft and fitted it to the string. Again he shot, and again he smote his arrow close beside the centre. A third time he loosed his bowstring and dropped his arrow just betwixt the other two and into the very centre, so that the feathers of all three were ruffled together, seeming from a distance to be one thick shaft. And now a low murmur ran all among that great crowd, for never before had London seen such shooting as this, and never again would see it, after Robin Hood's day had gone. All saw that the King's archers were fairly beaten, and Stout Gilbert clapped his palm to Robin's, owning that he could never hope to draw such a bowstring as Robin Hood or Little John. But the King, full of wrath, would not have it so, though he knew in his mind that his men could not stand against those fellows. Nay, cried he, clenching his hands upon the arms of his seat. Gilbert is not yet beaten. Did he not strike the clout thrice? Although I have lost my wager, he hath not yet lost the first prize. They shall shoot again, and still again, till either he or that naïve Robin Hood cometh off the best. Go thou, Sir Hugh, and bid them shoot another round, and another, until one or the other is overcome. Then Sir Hugh, seeing how wroth the King was, said never a word, but went straight way to do his bidding. So he came to where Robin Hood and the other stood, and told them what the King had said. With all my heart, quote Mary Robin, I will shoot from this time till to-morrow day, if it can pleasure my most gracious Lord and King. Take thy place, Gilbert lad, and shoot! So Gilbert took his place once more. But this time he failed. For a sudden little wind arising, his shaft missed the center ring, but by not more than the breadth of a barley straw. Thy eggs are cracked, Gilbert, quote Robin, laughing, and straight way he loosed the shaft, and once more smote the white circle of the center. Then the King arose from his place, and not a word said he, but he looked around with a baleful look, and it would have been an ill day for any one that he saw with a joyous or a merry look upon his face. Then he and his Queen and all the court left the place, but the King's heart was brimming full of wrath. After the King had gone, all the yeoman of the archer guard came crowding around Robin and Little John and Will and Allen to snatch a look at these famous fellows from the Mid-Country, and with them came many that had been onlookers at the sport, for the same purpose. Thus it happened presently that the yeoman to whom Gilbert stood talking were all surrounded by a crowd of people that formed a ring about them. After a while the three judges that had the giving away of the prizes came forward, and the chief of them all spoke to Robin and said, According to agreement, the first prize belongedeth rightly to thee. So here I give thee the silver bugle, here the quiver of ten golden arrows, and here a purse of two score and ten golden pounds. And as he spake he headed those things to Robin, and then turned to Little John. To thee, he said, Belongeth the second prize, to it, five score of the finest hearts that run on Dallin Lee. Thou mayest shoot them whensoever thou dost list. Last of all he turned to Stout Hubert. Thou, he said, hast held thine own against the yeoman from which thou didst shoot, and so thou hast kept the prize, duly thine, to it, two tons of good renish wine. We shall be delivered to thee whensoever thou dost list. Then he called upon the other seven of the king's archers who had last shot, and gave each four score still for pennies. That up spake Robin and quoth he, this silver bugle I keep in honour of the shooting-match, but thou, Gobert, art the best archer of all the king's guard, and to thee I freely give this purse of gold. Take it, man, and would it ten times as much? Thou art a right yeoman, good and true. Furthermore to each of the ten that last shot I give one of these golden shafts apiece. Keep them always by you, so that ye may tell your grandchildren, and ye are ever blessed with them, that ye are the stoutest yeoman in all the wide world. At this all shouted aloud, for it pleased them to hear Robin speak so of them. Then up spake little John, good friend Deppus, said he, I want not those hearts of Dallin Lee that yawn stout judge spoke of but now, for in truth we have a now and more than a now in our own country. To score in ten I give to thee for thine own shooting, in five I give to each band for their pleasure. At this another great shout went up, and many tossed their caps aloft, and swore among themselves that no better fellows ever walked the side than Robin Hood and his stout yeoman. While they so shouted with loud voices, a tall burly yeoman of the Kingsguard came forward and plucked Robin by the sleeve. Good master, quote he, I have somewhat to tell thee in thine ear, a silly thing, God what, for one stout yeoman to tell another, but a young peacock of a page, one Richard Partington, was seeking thee without avail in the crowd, and, not being able to find thee, told me that he bore a message to thee from a certain lady that thou wattest of. This message he gave me tell thee privily, word for word, and thus it was, ah, let me see, I trust ye have not forgot it, ye, this it was, the lying grouse, beware thy head. Is it so, quote Robin, starting, for he knew right well that it was the Queen sent the message, and that she spake of the King's wrath. Now I thank thee good fellow, for thou hast done me greater service than thou knowest of this day. Then he called his three yeoman together, and told them privily, that they had best be jogging, as it was to be ill for them so nigh merry London-town. So without tearing longer they made their way through the crowd until they had come out from the press. Then without stopping they left London-town, and started away northward. This is the end of Chapter 18. This recording is by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood, by Howard Pyle. CHAPTER 19 The Chase of Robin Hood So Robin Hood and the others left the archery range at Finsbury Fields, and tearing not set forth straightway upon their homeward journey. It was well for them that they did so, for they had not gone more than three or four miles upon their way when six of the yeoman of the King's guard came bustling among the crowd that still lingered, seeking for Robin and his men to seize upon them and make them prisoners. Truly it was an ill-done thing in the King to break his promise, but it all came about through the Bishop of Hereford's doing, for thus it happened. After the King left the archery ground, he went straightway to his cabinet, and with him went the Bishop of Hereford and Sir Robert Lee. But the King said never a word to these two, but sat gnawing his nether lip, for his heart was galled within him by what had happened. At last the Bishop of Hereford spoke in a low sorrowful voice. It is a sad thing, Your Majesty, that this navish outlaw should be led to escape in this wise, for let him but get back to Sherwood for a safe and sound, he may snap his fingers at King and King's men. At these words the King raised his eyes and looked grimly upon the Bishop. Sayest thou so? Now I will show thee in good time how much thou dost air, for when forty days are past and gone, I will seize upon this thieving outlaw if I have to tear down all of Sherwood to find him. Thinkest thou that the laws of the King of England are to be so evaded by one poor nave without friends or money? Then the Bishop spoke again in his smooth, soft voice. Forgive my boldest, Your Majesty, and believe that I have not put the good of England and Your Majesty's desirings at heart. But what would it boot, though my gracious Lord did root up every tree of Sherwood? Are there not other places for Robin Hood's hiding? Canock Chase is not far from Sherwood, and the great forest of Arden is not far from Canock Chase. Besides these are many other woodlands in Nottingham and Derby, in Lincoln and York, and amid any of which Your Majesty might as well think to seize upon Robin Hood as to lay finger upon a rat among the dust and broken things of a garret. Name, my gracious Lord, if he doth once plant foot in the woodland, he is lost to the law for ever. At these words the King tapped his fingertips upon the table beside him with vexation. What wouldst thou have me do, Bishop Quothee? Thou didst not hear me pledge my word to the Queen? Thy talk is as barren as the wind from the bellows upon dead coals. Far be it from me, said the cunning Bishop, to point the way to one so clear-sighted as Your Majesty, but were I the King of England? I should look upon the matter in this wise. I have promised, my Queen, let us say, that for forty days the cunningest rogue in all England shall have freedom to come and go. But lo! I find this outlaw into my grasp. Why, then, foolishly cling to a promise so hastily given? Suppose that I had promised to do Her Majesty's bidding, whereupon she bade me to slay myself. Should I, then, shut mine eyes and run blindly upon my sword? Thus would I argue with him myself. Moreover I would say to myself, a woman knoweth not of the great things appertaining to state government. And likewise, I know a woman is ever prone to take up a fancy, even as she would pluck a daisy from the roadside, and then throw it away when the saver is gone. Therefore though she hath taken a fancy to this outlaw, it will soon wane away and be forgotten. As for me, I have the greatest villain in all England in my grasp. Shall I, then, open my hand and let him slip betwixt my fingers? Thus, Your Majesty, would I say to myself, were I the king of England? So the bishop talked, and the king lent his ear to his evil counsel. Until after a while he turned to Sir Robert Lee, and bade him said in six of the Yeoman of the Guard to take Robin Hood and his three men prisoners. Now, Sir Robert Lee was a gentleman, noble knight, and he felt grieved to the heart to see the king so brick his promise. Nevertheless he said nothing, for he saw how bitterly the king was set against Robin Hood. But he did not send the Yeoman of the Guard at once, but went first to the queen and told her all that had passed, and bade her, send word to Robin of his danger. This he did not for the well-being of Robin Hood, but because he would save his Lord's honour if he could. Thus it came about that when, after a while, the Yeoman of the Guard went to the archery field, they found not Robin and the others, and so got no cakes at that fair. The afternoon was already well nigh gone when Robin Hood, little John, Will, and Alan set forth upon their homeward way, trudging along merrily through the yellow slanting light which speedily changed to rosy red as the sun sank low in the heavens. The shadows grew long, and finally merged into the grayness of the mellow twilight. The dusty highway lay all white betwixt the dark hedgerows, and along it walked four fellows like four shadows, the pat of their feet sounding loud, and their voices, as they talked, ringing clear upon the silence of the air. The great round moon was floating breathlessly up in the eastern sky when they saw before them the twinkling lights of Barnett Town, some ten or twelve miles from London. Then they walked through the stony streets, and passed the cozy houses with overhanging gables, before the doors of which sat the burgers and craftsmen in the mellow moonlight, where their families about them. And so came at last, on the other side of the hammock, to a little in, all shaded with roses and wood-binds. Before this in Robin Hood stopped, for the spot pleased him well. Quotee, Here we will take up our inn and rest for the night, for we are well away from London Town on our King's Wrath. Moreover, if I mistake not, we will find sweet-faring within. What say ye, lads? In sooth, good master, both little John, thy bidding and my doing ever fit together like cakes and nail. Let us in, I say also. Then up spake will scarlet. I am ever ready to do what thou sayest, uncle, yet I could wish that we were farther upon our way ere we rest for the night. Nevertheless if thou thinkest best, let us in for the night, say I also. So in they went, and called for the best that the place afforded. Then a right good feast was set before them, with two stout bottles of old sack to wash it down with all. These things were served by as plump and buximal ass as you could find in all the land, so that little John, you always had an eye for a fair lass, even when meat and drink were by, stuck his arms akimbo and fixed his eyes upon her, winking sweetly whenever he saw her looking toward him. Then you should have seen how the lass twitted with laughter and how she looked at little John out of the corners of her eyes, a dimple coming in either cheek, for the fellow had always a taking way with the women folk. So the feast passed merrily, and never had that in seen such lusty feeders as these forest-out fellows. But at last they were done with their eating, though it seemed as though they never would have ended, and sat loitering over the sack. As they so sat the landlord came in of a sudden, and said that there was one at the door a certain young Esquire, Richard Partington, of the Queen's household, who wished to see the lad in blue and speak with him without loss of time. The robin arose quickly, and bidding the landlord not to follow him, left the others gazing at one another and wondering what was about to happen. When robin came out of the inn, he found young Richard Partington sitting upon his horse in the white moonlight awaiting his coming. "'What news, Barris, thou, Sir Page?' said robin. "'I trust that it is not of an ill nature.' "'Why?' said young Partington. "'For the matter of that it is illy now. The king hath been bitterly stirred up against thee by that vile bishop of Hereford. He sent to arrest thee at the archery-butts at Finsbury Fields. But not finding thee there, he hath gathered together his armed men fifty score and more, and ascending them in haste along this very road to Sherwood, either to take thee on the way, or to prevent thy getting back to the woodlands again. He hath given the bishop of Hereford command over all these men, and thou knowest what thou hast to expect to the bishop of Hereford. Short shrift and a long rope. Two bands of horsemen are already upon the road, not far behind me, so thou thou houts best get thee gone from this play-straight way, for if thou tarriest longer, thou art like to sleep this night in a cold dungeon. This word the queen hath bidden me bring to thee.' Now, Richard Partington, quote robin, this is the second time that thou hast saved my life, and if the proper time ever cometh, I will show thee that Robin Hood never forgets these things. As for that bishop of Hereford, if I ever catch him nigh to Sherwood again, things will be like to go ill with him. Thou mayst tell the good queen that I will leave this place without delay, and will let the landlord think that we are going to St. Albans, but when we are upon the high road again, I will go one way through the country, and will send my men the other, so that if one falleth into the king's hands the others may happily escape. We will go by devious ways, and so I hope we'll reach Sherwood in safety, and now, Sir Page, I wish thee farewell. Farewell, thou bold yeoman, said Partington, and mayest thou reach thy hiding in safety. So each shook the other's hand, and the lad, turning his horse's head, rode back toward London, while Robin entered the inn once more. Here he found his yeoman sitting in silence, waiting his coming. Likewise the landlord was there, for he was curious to know what Master Partington had to do with the fellow in blue. Up, my merry men, quote Robin, this is no place for us, for those are after us, with whom we will stand but an ill chance, and we fall into their hands, so we will go forward once more, nor will we stop this night till we reach St. Albans. Hereupon, taking out his purse, he paid the landlord his score, and so they left the inn. When they had come to the high road without the town, Robin stopped and told them all that had passed between young Partington and himself, and how that the king's men were after them with hot heels. Then he told them that here they should part company, they three going to the eastward and he to the westward, and so skirting the high main roads, would come by devious path to Sherwood. So be ye wily, said Robin Hood, and keep well away from the northward roads till you've gotten well to the eastward, and thou will scarlet take the lead of the others, for thou hast a cunning turn to thy widths. Then Robin kissed the three upon the cheeks, and they kissed him, and so they parted company. Not long after this a score or more of the king's men came clattering up to the door of the inn at Barnett Town. Here they leaped from their horses, and quickly surrounded the place. The leader of the band and four others entering the room where the yeoman had been. But they found that their birds had flown again, and that the king had been balked a second time. "'Me thought that they were naughty fellows!' said the host, when he heard whom the men at arms sought. But I heard that blue-clad knave say that they would go straight forward to St. Albans. So when ye hurry forward, ye may, per chance, catch them on the high-row-twix-tier and there!' For this news the leader of the band thanked my host right heartily, and calling his men together, mounted and set forth again, galloping forward to St. Albans upon a wild goose-chase. After little John and Will Scarlett and Alona Dale had left the highway near Barnett, they travelled toward the eastward without stopping, as long as their legs could carry them. Until they came to Chelmsford, in Essex. Thence they turned northward, and came through Cambridge and Lincolnshire, to the good town of Gainesboro. Then striking to the westward and the south, they came at last to the northern borders of Sherwood Forest, without in all that time having met so much as a single band of the king's men. Eight days they journeyed thus ere they reached the woodlands in safety, but when they got to the Greenwood Glade they found that Robin had not yet returned. For Robin was not as lucky in getting back as his men had been, as you shall presently hear. After having left the great northern road, he turned his face to the westward, and so came past Alesbury to Fairwoodstock in Oxfordshire. Then he turned his footsteps northward, travelling for a great distance by way of work-town, till he came to Dudley in Staffordshire. One day it took him to journey thus far, and then he thought he had gotten far enough to the north. So turning toward the eastward, shunning the main roads, and choosing byways and grassy lanes, he went by way of Litchfield and Ashby to Lezooch toward Sherwood, till he came to a place called Stanton. And now Robin's heart began to laugh aloud, for he thought that his danger had gone by, and that his nostrils would soon snuff the spicy air of the woodlands once again. But there is many a slip between the cup and the lip, and this Robin was to find, for thus it was. When the king's men found themselves foiled at St. Albans, and that Robin and his men were not to be found high nor low, they knew not what to do. Presently another band of horsemen came, and another, until all the moonlit streets were full of armed men. Betwixt midnight and dawn another band came to the town, and with them came the bishop of Fairford. When he heard that Robin Hood had once more slipped out of the trap, he stayed not a minute, but gathering his bands together he pushed forward to the northward with speed, leading orders for all the troops that came to St. Albans to follow after him without tarrying. On the evening of the fourth day he reached Nottingham town, and their straightway divided his men in demands of six or seven and sent them all through the countryside, blocking every highway and byway to the eastward, and the southward, and the westward of Sherwood. The sheriff of Nottingham called forth all his men likewise, and joined with the bishop, for he saw that this was the best chance that had ever befallen of paying back his score in full to Robin Hood. Bill Scarlett and Little John and Alan O'Dayle had just missed the king's men to the eastward, for the very next day after they had passed the line, and entered Sherwood, the roads through which they had travelled were blocked, so that had they tarried in their journeying they would surely have fallen into the bishop's hands. But of all this Robin knew not a whit, so he whistled merrily as he trudged along the road beyond Stanton, with his heart as free from care as the yoke of an egg is from cobwebs. At last he came to where a little stream spread across the road in a shallow sheet, tankling and sparkling as it fretted over its bed of grow cold and gravel. Here Robin stopped, being a thirst, and kneeling down he made a cup of the palms of his hands, and he began to drink. On either side of the road, for a long distance, stood tangled thickets of bushes and young trees, and it pleased Robin's heart to hear the little birds singing therein, for it made him think of Sherwood, and it seemed as though it had been a lifetime since he had breathed the air of the woodlands. But all of a sudden, as he thus stooped drinking, something hissed past his ear, and struck with a splash into the gravel and water beside him, quick as a wink Robin sprang to his feet, and at one bound crossed the stream and the roadside, and plunged headlong into the thicket without looking around, for he knew right well that that which had hissed so venomlessly, near beside his ear was a gray goose shaft, and that to tarry so much as a moment meant death. Even as he leaped into the thicket, six more arrows rattled among the branches after him, one of which pierced his doublet, and would have struck deeply into his side but for the tough coat of steel that he wore. When up the road came riding some of the king's men at headlong speed, they leaped from their horses and plunged straightway into the thicket after Robin, but Robin knew the ground better than they did, so crawling here, stooping there, and anon running across some little open, he soon left them far behind, coming out at last upon another road about 800 paces distant from the one he had left. Here he stood for a moment, listening to the distant shouts of the seven men as they beat up and down in the thickets, like hounds that had lost the scent of the quarry. Then buckling his belt more tightly around his waist, he ran fleetly down the road toward the eastward and Sherwood. But Robin had not gone more than three furlongs in that direction when he came suddenly to the brow of a hill, and saw beneath him another band of the king's men seated in the shade along the roadside and the valley beneath. When he paused not a moment, but seeing that they had not caught sight of him, he turned and ran back whence he had come, knowing that it was better to run the chance of escaping those fellows that were yet in the thickets than to rush into the arms of those in the valley. So back he ran with all speed, and having gotten safely past the thickets when the seven men came forth into the open road. They raised a great shout when they saw him, such as the hunter gives when the deer breaks cover. But Robin was then a quarter of a mile or more away from them, coursing over the ground like a greyhound. He never slackened his pace, but ran along mile after mile, till he had come night of Mackworth over beyond the Derwent River, night of Derby town. Here seeing that he was out of present danger, he slackened in his running, and at last sat him down beneath the hedge, where the grass was the longest, and the shade the coolest, there to rest and catch his wind. By my soul, Robin, quoth he to himself, that was the narrowest mist that ere thou hadst in all thy life. I do say most solemnly that the feather of that wicked shaft tickled mine ear as it whizzed past. The same running hath given me a most craving appetite for victuals and drink. Now I pray St. Dunstan that he send me speedily some medium beer. It seemed as though St. Dunstan was like to answer his prayer. For along the road came plotting a certain cobbler, one quince of Derby, who had been to take a pair of shoes to a farmer nigh Kirk Langley, and was now coming back home again, with a fair-boiled capon in his pouch, and a stout puddle of beer by his side, which same the farmer had given him for joy of such a stout pair of shoon. Good quince was an honest fellow, but his wits were somewhat of the heavy sort, like unbaked dough, so that the only thing that was in his mind was, Three shillings six pence happening for thy shoon, good quince, Three shillings six pence happening for thy shoon! And this traveled round and round inside of his head, without another thought getting into his noddle, as a pea rolls round and round inside an empty quart pot. Hello, good friend! Quoth Robin, from beneath the hedge, when the other had gotten nigh enough, wither away so merrily this bright day. Hearing himself so called upon, the cobbler stopped, and seeing a well-clad stranger in blue he spoke to him in seemly wise. Give ye good din, fair sir! And I would say that I come from Kirk Langley, where I has sold my shoon, and got three shillings six pence happening for them in as sweet money as ever thou sauced, and honestly earned, too, I will have thee know. But then I may be so bold, thou pretty fellow! What dost thou there beneath the hedge? Mary, quoth Mary Robin, I sit beneath the hedge here to drop salt on the tales of golden birds, but in soothe thou art the first chick of any worth I have seen this blessed day. At these words the cobbler's eyes open big and wide, and his mouth grew round with wonder, like a knothole in a board fence. Slack a day, quoth thee! Look ye now! I have never seen these same golden birds, and dost thou in soothe find them in these hedges, good fellow? Prithee, tell me, are there many of them? I would faint find them my own self. I truly, quoth Robin, they are as thick here as fresh herring in Canuck Chase. Look ye now! said the cobbler, all drowned in wonder, and dost thou in soothe catch them by dropping salt on their pretty tales? Yay, quoth Robin, but this salt is of an odd kind, let me tell thee, for it can only be gotten by boiling down a quart of moon-beams in a wooden platter, and then one half but a pinch. But tell me now, thou witty man, what hast thou gotten there in that pouch by thy side, and in that pottle? At these words the cobbler looked down at those things of which Mary Robin spoke, for the thoughts of the golden bird had driven them from his mind, and it took him some time to scrape the memory of them back together again. Why, said he at last? In the one is good March beer, and in the other is a fat capon. Truly quince the cobbler will have a fine feast this day, and I mistake not. But tell me good quince, said Robin, hast thou a mind to sell those things to me? For the hearing of them sounds sweet in my ears. I will give thee these gay clothes of blue that I have upon my body, and ten shillings to boot, for thy clothes and thy leather apron, and thy beer and thy capon. What sayest thou, bully boy? Nay, thou dost just with me, said the cobbler, for my clothes are coarse in patch, thine are fine stuff, and very pretty. Never adjust, do I speak, quoth Robin, come, strip thy jacket off, and I will show thee, for I tell thee I like thy clothes well. Moreover, I will be kind to thee, for I will fee straight way upon the good things thou hast with thee, and thou shall be bidden to the eating. At these words he began slipping off his doublet, and the cobbler, seeing him so in earnest, began pulling off his clothes also, for Robin Hood's garb tickled his eye. So each put on the other fellow's clothes, and Robin gave the honest cobbler ten bright new shillings. Quoth Mary, Robin! I have been of many things in my life before, but never have I been an honest cobbler. Some friend, let us fall to and eat! For something within me cackles aloud for that good, fat capon. So both sat down, and began to feast right lustily. So that when they were done the bones of the capon were picked as bare as charity. Then Robin stretched his legs out with a sweet feeling of comfort within him. Quoth he! By the turn of thy voice, good quints, I know that thou hast a fair song or two running loose in thy head like Coltson and Meadow. I prove thee, turn one of them out for me. A song or two, I have, quote the cobbler, poor things, but such as they are, thou art welcome to one of them. So moistening his throat with a swallow of beer, he sang, Of all the joys, the best I love, sing, Hey, my frisking nano! And that which most my soul doth move, it is the clicking cannow. All other bliss I'd throw away, sing, Hey, my frisking nano! But this, the stout cobbler, got no farther in his song, for of a sudden six horsemen burst upon them where they sat, and seized roughly upon the honest craftsmen, hauling him to his feet, and nearly plucking the clothes from him as they did so. Ha! roared the leader of the band, in a great big voice of joy. Have we then caught thee at last, thou blue-clad knave? Now, bless it be the name of St. Hubert, for we are four score pounds richer this minute than we were before. For the good Bishop of Harreford hath promised that much to the band that shall bring thee to him. Oh, thou cunning rascal, thou which looks so innocent forsooth, we know thee, thou old fox, but off thou goest with us to have thy brush clipped forthwith. At these words the poor cobbler gazed all around him with his great blue eyes as round as those of a dead fish, while his mouth gaped as though he had swallowed all his words, and so lost his speech. Robin also gaped and stared in a wandering way, just as the cobbler would have done in his place. Alakadaisy me, quoth he, I know not whether I be sitting here or in no man's land. What meaneth all this stir of the pot, my dear good gentleman? Surely this is a sweet honest fellow. Honest fellow, sayest thou clown, quoth one of the men, why I tell thee that this is that same rogue that men call Robin Hood! That this speech the cobbler stared and gaped more than ever, for there was such a threshing of thoughts going on within his poor head that his wits were all befogged with the dust and chaff thereof. Moreover, as he looked at Robin Hood, and saw the Yeoman look so like what he knew himself to be, he began to doubt, and to think that may have he was the great outlaw in real soothe, said he in a slow, wandering voice. Am I in very truth that fellow? No, I had thought. But nay, quince, thou art mistook, yet am I? Nay! I must indeed be Robin Hood, yet truly I had never thought to pass from an honest craftsman to such a great Yeoman. Alas, quoth Robin Hood, lookie there now! See how your ill treatment hath curdled the wits of this poor lad and turned them all sour! I myself am quince, the cobbler of Derbytown. Is it so? said quince. Then, indeed, I am somebody else, and can be none other than Robin Hood. Take me, fellows, but let me tell you that ye have laid hand upon the stoutish Yeoman that ever trod the woodlands. Thou wilt play madman, wilt thou? said the leader of the band. Here, guiles, fetch accord him, bind this knave's hands behind him. I warrant we will bring his wits back to him again when we get him safe before our good bishop at Tutburytown. Thereupon they tied the cobbler's hands behind him, and led him off with a rope, as the farmer leads off the calf he hath brought from the fair. Robin stood looking after them, and when they were gone he laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks, for he knew that no harm would befall the honest fellow, and he pictured to himself the bishop's face when good quince was brought before him as Robin Hood. Then turning his steps once more to the eastward, he stepped out, right foot foremost, toward Nottinghamshire and Sherwood Forest. But Robin Hood had gone through more than he wanted of. His journey from London had been hard and long, and in a same night he had traveled seven score and more of miles. He thought now to travel on without stopping until he had come to Sherwood, but ere he had gone half a score of miles he felt his strength giving way beneath him like a river bank which the waters have undermined. He sat him down and rested, but he knew within himself he could go no farther that day, for his feet felt like lumps of lead so heavy were they with weariness. Once more he arose and went forward, but after traveling a couple of miles he was feigned to give the matter up. So coming to an end just then he entered and calling the landlord bade him show him to a room, although the sun was only then just sinking in the western sky. There were but three bedrooms in the place, and to the meanest of these the landlord showed Robin Hood. But little Robin cared for the looks of the place, for he could have slept that night upon a bed of broken stones. So stripping off his clothes without more ado, he rolled into the bed and was asleep almost ere his head touched the pillow. Not long after Robin had so gone to his rest a great cloud peep blackly over the hills to the westward, higher and higher it arose until it piled up into the night like a mountain of darkness. All around beneath it came ever in a non a dull red flash, and presently a short grim mutterer the coming thunder was heard. Then up-road four stout-burgers of Nottingham town, for this was the only inn within five miles distance, and they did not care to be caught in such a thunderstorm as this that was coming upon them. Leaving their nags to the stablemen, they entered the best room of the inn where fresh green rushes lay all spread upon the floor, and they're called for the goodliest fair that the place afforded. After having eaten heartily they bade the landlord show them to their rooms, for they were a weary having ridden all the way from Drunfield that day. So off they went, grumbling and having to sleep, too, in a bed, but their troubles on this score as well as all others were soon lost in the quietness of sleep. Now came the first gust of wind, rushing past the place, clapping and banging the doors and shutters, smelling of the coming rain, and all wrapped in a cloud of dust and leaves. As though the wind had brought a guest along with it, the door opened of a sudden and in came a fryer of Emmett Priory, and one in high degree, as was shown by the softness and sleekness of his robes and the richness of his rosary. He called to the landlord, and bade him first have his mule well fed embedded in the stable, and then to bring him the very best there was in the house. So presently a savoury stew of tripe and onions, with sweet little fat dumplings, was set before him. Likewise a good stout pottled of Malmsey, and straight way the holy fryer fell, too, with great courage and hardiness, so that in a short time not was left but a little pool of gravy in the centre of the platter, not lodging out to keep the life in a starving mouse. In the meantime the storm broke, another gust of wind went rushing by, and with it fell a few heavy drops of rain, which presently came rattling down in showers, beating against the casements like a little hundred hands. Bright flashes of lightning lit up every raindrop, and with them came cracks of thunder that went away grumbling and bumping, as though St. Swithin were busy rolling great casts of water across rough ground overhead. The women folks screamed, and the merry wags in the tap room put their arms around their waist to soothe them into quietness. At last the holy fryer bade the landlord show him to his room, but when he heard that he was to bed with a cobbler, he was as ill-contented a fellow as you could find in all England. Nevertheless there was nothing for it, and he must sleep there or nowhere. So taking up his candle he went off grumbling like the now distant thunder. When he came to the room where he was to sleep, he held the light over Robin, and looked at him from top to toe. Then he felt better pleased, for instead of a rough, dirty-bearded fellow, he beheld as fresh and clean a lad as one could find in a week of Sundays. No slipping off his clothes, he also huddled into the bed where Robin, grunting and grumbling in his sleep, made room for him. Robin was more sound asleep by what than he had been for many a day, else he would never have rested so quietly with one of the fryer's sort so close beside him. As for the fryer, had he known who Robinhood was, you may well believe he would almost have soon have slept with an adder as with the man he had for a bed-fellow. So the night passed comfortably enough, but at the first dawn of day Robin opened his eyes and turned his head upon the pillow. Then how he gaped, and how he stared, for there beside him lay one all shaven and shorn, so that he knew it must be a fellow in holy orders. He pinched himself sharply, but finding he was awake, sat up in bed, while the other slumbered as peacefully as though he were safe and sound at home in Emmett Priory. Now, quote Robin to himself, I wonder how this thing hath dropped into my bed during the night. So saying he rose softly, so as not to awaken the other, and looking about the room he aspired the fryer's clothes lying upon a bench near the wall. First he looked at the clothes, with his head on one side, then he looked at the fryer and slowly winked an eye. Quotee, Good brother, whatever thy name may be, as thou hast borrowed my bed so freely, I'll even borrow thy clothes in return. So saying he straightway donned the holy Mayan scarb, but kindly left the cobbler's clothes in the place of it. Then he went forth into the freshness of the morning, and the stableman that was up and about the stables opened his eyes as though he saw a green mouse before him, for such men as the fryer's of Emmett were not want to be early risers, but the men bottled his thoughts and only asked Robin whether he wanted his mule brought from the stable. Yea, my son, quote Robin, albeit he knew not of the mule, and bring it forth quickly, I prithee, for I am late and must be jogging. So presently the stableman brought forth the mule, and Robin amounted it, and went on his way rejoicing. As for the holy fryer, when he arose he was in as pretty a stew as any man in all the world, for his rich soft robes were gone, likewise his purse with ten golden pounds in it, and not was left but patched clothes and a leatheren apron. He raged and swore like any layman, but as his swearing mended nothing, and the landlord could not aid him, and as, moreover, he was forced to be at Emmett Priory that very morning above matters of business, he was fain either to don the cobbler's clothes or travel the road in nakedness. So he put on the clothes, and still raging and swearing vegance against all the cobblers in Derbyshire, he set forth upon his way of foot. But his ills had not yet done with him, for he had not gone far ere he fell into the hands of the king's men, who marched him off willy-nilly to Tutbury Town and the Bishop of Harreford. In vain he swore he was a holy man, and showed his shaven crown. Off he must go, for nothing would do but that he was Robin Hood. Meanwhile, Mary Robin rode along contentedly, passing safely by two bands of the king's men, until his heart began to dance within him because of the nearness of Sherwood. So he traveled ever on to the eastward, till of a sudden he met a noble knight in a shady lane. Then Robin checked his mule quickly, and leaped from off its back. "'Now well met, Sir Richard of the Lea!' cried he, for rather than any other man in England would I see thy good face this day!' Then he told Sir Richard all the happenings that had befallen him, and that now at last he felt himself safe being so nigh to Sherwood again. But when Robin had done, Sir Richard shook his head sadly. "'Thou art in greater danger now, Robin, than thou hast yet been,' said he. For before thee lie bands of the sheriffs men, blocking every road, and letting none pass through the lines without examining them closely, I myself know this, having passed through them but now. Before thee lies the sheriffs men, and behind thee the kingsmen, and thou canst not hope to pass either way, for by this time they will know of thy disguise and will be in waiting to seize upon thee. My castle and everything within it are thine, but not could be gained there, for I could not hope to hold it against such a force as is now in nodding him of the kings and sheriffs men.' Having so spoken, Sir Richard bent his head and thought, and Robin felt his heart sink within him like that of the fox that hears the hounds at his heels, and finds his den blocked with earth, so that there is no hiding for him. But presently Sir Richard spoke again, saying, "'One thing thou canst do, Robin, and one only. Go back to London, and throw thyself upon the mercy of our good queen, Eleanor. Come with me straightway to my castle. Doth these clothes, put on such as my retainers wear. Then I will hide me to London-town with a troop of men behind me, and thou shalt mingle with them. And thus will I bring thee to where thou mayest see and speak with the queen. Thy only hope is to get to Sherwood, for there none can reach thee, and thou wilt never get to Sherwood but in this way.' Sir Robin went with Sir Richard of the Lee, and did his he said, for he saw the wisdom of that which the night advised, and that this was his only chance of safety. Queen Eleanor walked in her royal garden, amid the roses that bloomed sweetly, and with her walked six of her ladies in waiting, chattering blithely together. Of a sudden a man leaped up to the top of the wall from the other side, and then, hanging for a moment, dropped lightly upon the grass within. All the ladies in waiting shrieked at the suddenness of his coming, but the man ran to the queen and kneeled at her feet, and she saw that it was Robin Hood. "'Why, how now, Robin?' cried she. "'Dost thou dare to come into the very jaws of the raging lion? Alas, poor fellow, thou art lost indeed if the king finds thee here. Dost thou not know he is seeking thee through all the land?' "'Yay,' quote Robin, I do know right well that the king seeks me, and therefore I have come. For surely no ill can befall me when he hath pledged his royal word to your majesty for my safety. Moreover, I know your majesty's kindness and gentleness of heart, and so I lay my life freely in your gracious hands. "'I take thy meaning, Robin Hood,' said the queen, and that thou dost convey reproached to me as well thou mayest, for I know that I have not done by thee as I ought to have done. I know right well that thou must have been hard pressed by peril to leap so boldly into one danger to escape another. Once more I promise thee mine aid, and will do all I can to send thee back in safety to Sherwood Forest. Bide thou here till I return?' So saying, she left Robin in the Garden of Roses and was gone a long time. When she came back, Sir Robert Lee was with her, and the queen's cheeks were hot, and the queen's eyes were bright, as though she had been talking with high words. Then Sir Robert came straight forward to where Robin Hood stood, and he spoke to the omen in a cold, stern voice. Quote he, "'Our gracious sovereign the king hath mitigated his wrath toward thee, fellow! And hath once more promised that thou shalt depart in peace and safety. Not only hath he promised this, but in three days he will send one of his pages to go with thee, and see that none arrest thy journey back again. Thou mayest thank thy patron saint, that thou hast such a good friend in our noble queen. For, but for her persuasion and arguments, thou hath's been a dead man, I can tell thee. Let this peril that thou hast passed through teach thee two lessons. First be more honest. Second be not so bold in thy comings and goings. A man that walketh in the darkness as thou dost may escape for a time. In the end he will surely fall into the pit. Thou hast put thy head in the angry lion's mouth, and yet thou hast escaped by a miracle. Try it not again." So saying, he turned and left Robin, and was gone. For three days Robin abided in London in the queen's household, and at the end of that time the king's head-page, Edward Cunningham, came, and taking Robin with him, departed northward upon his way to Sherwood. Now and then they passed bands of the king's men coming back again to London, but none of those bands stopped them, and so at last they reached the sweet leafy woodlands. This is the end of Chapter 19. The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle, Chapter 20. Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne A long time passed after the great shooting match, and during that time Robin followed one part of the advice of Sir Robert Lee to wit, that of being less bold in his comings and goings, for though may have he may not have been more honest, as most folks regard honesty, he took good care not to travel so far from Sherwood that he could not reach it both easily and quickly. Great changes had fallen in this time, for King Henry had died, and King Richard had come to the crown that fitted him so well through many hard trials and through adventures as stirring as any that ever befell Robin Hood. But though great changes came, they did not reach to Sherwood's shades, for there Robin Hood and his men dwelled as merrily as they ever had done, with hunting and feasting and singing and blithe woodland sports, for it was little the outside strivings of the world troubled them. The dawning of a summer's day was fresh and bright, and the birds sang sweetly in a great tumult of sound. So loud was their singing that it awakened Robin Hood where he lay sleeping, so that he stirred and turned and arose. Up rose little John also, and all the merry men, and then after that they broke their fast and they set forth hither and thither upon the doings of the day. Robin Hood and little John walked down a forest path, where all around the leaves danced and twinkled as the breeze trembled through them and the sunlight came flickering down. Quote Robin Hood, I may make my vow, little John, my blood tickles my veins as it flows through them this game-orn. What sayest thou to our seeking adventures, each one upon his own account? With all my heart, said little John, we have had more than one pleasant doing in that way, good master. Here are two paths. Take thou the one to the right hand, and I will take the one to the left, and then let each of us walk straight ahead till he tumbles into some merry doing or other. I like thy plan, quote Robin, therefore we will part here, but look thee, little John, keep thyself out of mischief, for I would not have ill befall thee for all the world. Merry come up, quote little John, how thou talkest, me thinks thou art want to give thyself into tighter quillills than I am like to do. At this Robin Hood left, why ensuth, little John, said he, thou hast a blundering hard-headed way that seemeth to bring the right side uppermost in all thy troubles. But let us see who cometh out best this day. So saying he clapped his palm to little John's, and each departed upon his way, the trees quickly shutting the one from the other's sight. Robin Hood strolled onward till he came to where a broad woodland road stretched before him. Overhead the branches of the trees laced together in flickering foliage, all golden where it grew thin to the sunlight. Beneath his feet the ground was soft and moist from the sheltering shade. Here in this pleasant spot the sharpest adventure that ever befell Robin Hood came upon him. For as he walked down the woodland path thinking of not, the songs of the birds, he came of a sudden to where a man was seated upon the mossy roots beneath the shade of a broad spreading oak tree. Robin Hood saw that the stranger had not caught sight of him, so he stopped and stood quite still, looking at the other a long time before he came forward, and the stranger, I want, was well worth looking at, for never had Robin Hood seen a figure like that sitting beneath the tree. From his head to his feet he was clad in a horse's hide, dressed with the hair upon it. On his head was a cow that hid his face from sight and which was made of the horse's skin. The ears were of stuck-up like those of a rabbit. His body was glad and a jacket made of the hide, and his legs were covered with the hairy skin likewise. By his side was a heavy broadsword and a sharp double-edged dagger. A quiver of smooth round arrows hung across his shoulders, and his stout bow of you leaned against the tree beside him. Hello, friend! cried Robin, coming forward at last. Who art thou that sit it there? And what is it that thou hast upon thy body? I make my vow I had never seen such a sight in all my life before. Had I done an evil thing, or did my conscious trouble me, I would be afraid of thee, thinking that thou wasst someone from down below bringing a message bidding me come straightway to King Nicholas. To this speech the other answered not a word, but he pushed the cowl back from his head, and showed a knit brow, a hook and nose, and a pair of fierce, restless black eyes, which altogether made Robinhood think of a hawk as he looked on his face. But besides this there was something about the lines of the stranger's face and his thin, cruel mouth and the hard glare of his eyes that made one's flesh creep to look upon. Who art thou, Rascal? said he at last in a loud, harsh voice. T-t-t, quote Mary Robin, speak not so sourly, brother, hast thou fed upon vinegar and nettles this morning that thy speech is so stinging? And thou likeest not my words, said the other fiercely, thou hast best be jogging, for I tell thee plainly my deeds match them. Nay, but I do like thy words, thou sweet, pretty thing, quote Robin, squatting down upon the grass in front of the other. Moreover, I tell thee thy speech is witty and gamesome as any I ever heard in all my life. The other said not a word, but he glared upon Robin with a wicked and baleful look, such as a fierce dog bestows upon a man ere it springs at his throat. Robins returned the gaze with one of wide-eyed innocence, not a shadow of a smile twinkling in his eyes or twitching at the corners of his mouth, so they sat staring at one another for a long time until the stranger broke the silence suddenly. What is thy name, fellow? said he. Now, quote Robin, I am right glad to hear thee speak, for I began to fear the sight of me had stricken thee dumb. As for my name it may be this, or it may be that, but me thinks it is more meat for thee to tell me thine, seeing that thou art thy greater stranger in these parts. Pretty tell me, sweet Chuck, why wearest thou that dainty garb upon thy pretty body? At these words the other broke into a short, harsh roar of laughter. By thy bones of the daemon odin said he, thou art the boldest spoken man that ever I have seen in all my life. I know not why I do not smite thee down where thy citest, for only two days ago I skewered a man back at Nottingham Town for saying not half so much to me as thou hast done. I wear this garb, thou fool, to keep my body warm. Likewise it is near as good as a coat of steel against a common sword thrust. As for my name, I care not who knoweth it. It is Guy of Gisborne, and thou mayest have heard it before. I come from the woodlands over in Herfordshire upon the lands of the bishop of that ilk. I am an outlaw, and I get my living by hook and by crook in a manner it boots not now tell to thee of. Not long since the bishop sent for me, and said that if I would do a certain thing that the sheriff of Nottingham would ask of me, he would get me a free pardon and give me ten score pounds to boot. So straightway I came to Nottingham Town, and found my sweet sheriff, and what thinkest thou he wanted of me? Why, forsooth to come here to Sherwood to hunt one robin-hood, also an outlawed, loathe and take him alive or dead. It seemeth that they have no one here to face that bold fellow, so so he sent all the way to Herfordshire to me, for thou knowest thou old saying, set a thief to catch a thief. As for the slaying of this fellow, it golleth me not of it, for I would shed the blood of my own brother for the half of two hundred pounds. To all this robin listened, and as he listened his gorge rose, well he knew of this Guy of Gisborne, and of all the bloody and murderous deeds that he had done in Herfordshire, for his doings were famous throughout all the land, yet, although he loathed the very presence of the man, he held his peace, for he had an end to serve. Truly, quote he, I have heard of thy gentle doings, me thinks there is no one in all the world that robin-hood would rather meet than thee, at this Guy of Gisborne gave another harsh laugh. Why, quote he, it is a merry thing to think of one stout outlaw like Robin Hood meeting another stout outlaw like the Guy of Gisborne, only in this case it will be an ill happening for Robin Hood, for the day he meets Guy of Gisborne he shall die. But thou gentle merry spirit, quote Robin, does thou not think that may have this same Robin Hood may be the better man of the two? I know him right well, and many think that he is one of the stoutest men hereabouts. He may be the stoutest of men hereabouts, quote Guy of Gisborne, yet I tell thee, fellow, this sty of yours is not the wide world. I lay my life upon it, I am the better man of the two. He an outlaw forsooth, why I hear that he had never let blood in all his life. Saving when he first came to the forest some call him a great archer. Merry, I would not be afraid to stand against him all the days of the year with a bow in my hand. Why, truly, some folk do call him a great archer, said Robin Hood, but we of Nottinghamshire are famous hands with the longbow. Even I, though but a simple hand at the craft, would not fear to try about with thee. At these words Guy of Gisborne looked upon Robin with wandering eyes, and then gave another whore of laughter to the woods rang. No, quote thee, thou art a bold fellow to talk to me in this way. But I like thy spirit in so speaking up to me, for few men have dared to do so. Put up a garland lad, and I will try about with thee. Tutt, tutt, quote Robin, only babes shoot at garlands hereabouts. I will put up a good Nottingham mark for thee. So saying he arose, and going to a hazel-thicket not far off he cut a wand about twice the thickness of a man's thumb. From this he peeled the bark, and sharpening the point stuck it up in the ground in front of a great oak tree. Hence he measured off four score-paces, which brought him beside the tree where the other sat. There, quote he, is the kind of mark that Nottingham Yeoman shoot at. Now let me see thee split the wand if thou art an archer. Then Guy of Gisborne arose. Now out upon it, cried he, the devil himself could not hit such a mark as that. May happy could, and may happy could not, quote Mary, Robin. But that we shall never know till thou hast shot there at. At these words Guy of Gisborne looked upon Robin with knit brows, but as the Yeoman still looked innocent of any ill meaning he bottled his words and strung his bow in silence. Twice he shot, but neither time did he hit the wand, missing it in the first time by a span, and the second time by a good palm's breath. Robin laughed and laughed. I see now, quote thee, that the devil himself could not hit thy mark. Good fellow, if thou art no better with the broadsword than thou art with the bow and arrow, thou will never overcome Robinhood. At these words Guy of Gisborne glared savagely upon Robin. Quote thee, thou hast a merry tongue, thou villain, but take care that thou makeest not too free with it, or I might cut it out with thy throat for thee. Robinhood strung his bow and took his place with nearer her word, albeit his heartstrings quivered with anger and loathing. Twice he shot, the first time hitting within an inch of the wand, the second time splitting it fairly in the middle. Then, without giving the other a chance for speech, he flung his bow upon the ground. There thy bloody, bloody villain, cried he fiercely, let that show thee how little thou knowest of manly sports, and now look thy last upon the daylight, for the good earth hath been befouled long enough by thee, thou foul beast. This day our lady willing thou dyest. I am Robinhood, so saying he flashed forth his bright sword in the sunlight. For a time Guy of Gisborne stared upon Robin as though bereft of wits, but his wonder quickly passed to a wild rage. Are thou indeed Robinhood? cried he. Now I am glad to meet thee, thou poor wretch, strive thyself, for thou wilt have no time for striving when I am done with thee. So saying he also drew his sword. And now came the fiercest fight that ever sure would saw, for each man knew that either he or the other must die, and that no mercy was to be had in this battle. Up and down they fought till all the sweet green grass was crushed in ground beneath the trampling of their heels. More than once the point of Robinhood's sword felt the softness of flesh, and presently the ground began to be sprinkled with bright red drops, albeit not one of them came from Robin's veins. At last Guy of Gisborne made a fierce and deadly thrust at Robinhood, from which he leapt back quickly, but in so leaping he caught his heel in a root and fell heavily upon his back. Now, holy Mary, aid me, muttered he as the other leapt at him with a grin of rage upon his face. Fiercely Guy of Gisborne stabbed at the other with his great sword, but Robin caught the blade in his naked hand, and though it cut his palm he turned the point away so that it plunged deep into the ground close beside him. Then, ere a blow could be struck again, he leapt to his feet with his good sword in his hand, and now despair felt upon Guy of Gisborne's heart in a black cloud, and he looked around him wildly like a wounded hawk. Seeing that his strength was going from him, Robin leapt forward and quick as a flash struck a broad-handed blow behind the sword arm. Down fell the sword from Guy of Gisborne's grasp and back he staggered at the stroke, and here he could regain himself. Robin's sword passed through and through his body. Round he spun his heels and flinging his hands aloft with a shrill wild cry fell prone upon his face upon the green sod. Then Robinhood wiped his sword and thrust it back into the scabbard, and coming to where Guy of Gisborne lay, he stood over him with folded arms talking to himself at the wild. This is the first man I have slain since I shot the king's forester in the hot days of my youth. I often think bitterly, even yet, of that first life I took, but of this I am glad as thou, I had slain a wild boar that lay waste a fair country. Since the sheriff of Nottingham hath sent such a one as this against me, I will put on the fellow's garb and go forth to see whether I may not find his worship and perchance pay him back some of the debt I owe him upon this score. So saying Robinhood stripped the hairy garments from off the dead man, put them on himself all bloody as they were, then strapping the other's sword and dagger around his body and carrying his own in his hand, together with the two bows of you, he drew the cowl of horses hide over his face, so that none could tell who he was, and set forth from the forest, turning his steps toward the eastward and Nottingham town. As he strode along the country roads, men, women, and children hid away from him for the terror of Guy of Gisborne's name, and of his doings had spread far and near. And now let us see what befell little John while these things were happening. Little John walked on his way through the forest pass until he had come to the outskirts of the woodlands where here and there fields of barley, corn, and green meadows lands lay smiling in the sun. So he came to the high road, and to where a little thatched cottage stood, black of cluster, and twisted crab-trees, with flowers in front of it. Here he stopped of a sudden, for he thought that he heard the sound of someone in sorrow. He listened, and found that it came from the cottage, and so, turning his footsteps thither, he pushed open the wicked and entered the place. There he saw a gray-haired dame sitting beside a cold hearthstone, rocking herself to and fro, weeping bitterly. Now, little John had a tender heart for the sorrows of other folk, so coming to the old woman and patting her kindly upon the shoulder, he spoke comforting words to her, bidding her cheer up and tell him her troubles. For that may have he may do something to ease them. At all this the good dame shook her head, but all the same his kind words did soothe her somewhat, so after a while she told him all that bore upon her mind. That that morning she had three as fair, tall sons beside her, as one could find in all Nottinghamshire, but that they were now taken from her, and were like to be hanged straight away, that one having come upon them her eldest boy had gone out the night before into the forest and had slain to hide in the wind moonlight. That the king's rangers had followed the blood upon the grass until they had come to her cottage, and had there found the deer's meat in the cupboard. That as neither of the younger sons would betray their brother, the forester had taken all three away in spite of the oldest, saying that he alone had slain the deer. That as they went, she had heard the rangers talking among themselves, saying that the sheriff had sworn that he would put a check-up on the great slaughter of deer that had been going on of late, hanging the first road caught there upon the nearest tree, and that they would take the three used to the king's head in near Nottingham town, where the sheriff was biding that day, there to await the return of a certain fellow he had sent into Sherwood to seek for Robin Hood. To all this little John listened, shaking his head sadly now and then. Alas! goes he, when the good dame had finished her speech, this is indeed an ill case, but who is this that goeth into Sherwood after Robin Hood, and why doth he go to seek him? But no matter for that now, only that I would that Robin Hood were here to advise us. Nevertheless no time may be lost in sending for him at this hour, if we would save the lives of thy three sons. Tell me, hast thou any clothes hereon that I may put in a place of these of Lincoln Green? Mary of our stout sheriff catches me without disguise I am like to be run up more quickly than thy sons. Tell me, tell me, dame! Then the old woman told him that she had in the house some of the clothes of her good husband who had only tied two years before. These she brought to little John, who, doffing his garb of Lincoln Green, put them on its bedstead. Then, making a wig and a false beard of uncarded wool, he covered his own brown hair and beard and, putting on a great tall hat that had belonged to the old peasant, he took his staff in one hand and his bow in the other and set forth with all the speed to where the sheriff had taken up his inn. A mile or more from Nottingham Town, and not far from the southern borders of Sherwood Forest, stood the cozy inn bearing the sign of the king's head. Here was a great bustle and stir on this bright morning, for the sheriff and a score of his men had come to stop there and await Guy of Gisborne's return from the forest. Great hiss and fuss of cooking was going on in the kitchen, and great rapping and tapping of wine kegs and beer barrels was going on in the cellar. The sheriff sat with in feasting merrily of the best the place afforded, and the sheriff's men sat upon the bench before the door, quaffing ale and lay beneath the shade of a broad spreading oak trees, talking and jesting and laughing. All around stood the horses of the band with a great noise of stamping feet and the great switching of tails. To this inn came the king's rangers, driving the widow's three sons before them. The hands of the three youths were tied tightly behind their backs, and a cord from neck to neck fastened them all together, so they were marched to the room where the sheriff sat at meet, and stood trembling before him as he scowled sternly upon them. So, quote he, in a great loud angry voice, ye have been poaching upon the king's deer have you! Now I will make short work of you this day, for I will hang up all three of you as a farmer would hang up three crows to scare others of the kind from the field. Our fair county of Nottingham has been too long a breeding place for such naughty naves as ye are. I have put up with these things for many years, but now I will stamp them out at once for all I will with you I will begin. Then one of the poor fellows opened his mouth to speak, but the sheriff roared at him in a loud voice to be silent and bade the rangers to take him away till he had done his eating and could attend to the matters concerning them. So the three poor youths were marched outside where they stood with bowed heads and despairing hearts till after a while the sheriff came forth. Then he called his men about him, and quote he, These three villains shall be hanged straight away, but not here lest they breed ill luck to this goodly inn. We will take them over yonder to that belt of woodlands, for I would feign hang them upon the very trees of Sherwood itself to show these vile outlaws therein what they may expect of me if ever I have the good luck to lay hands upon them. So saying, he mounted his horse as did his men at arms likewise, and all together they set forth for the belts of woodlands he had spoken of, the poor youths walking in their midst guarded by the rangers. So they came at last to the spot, and here nooses were fastened around their necks of the three, and the ends of the cords flung over the branch of a great oak tree that stood there. Then the three youths fell upon their knees and loudly besought mercy of the sheriff, but the sheriff of Nottingham laughed scornfully. Now, Quothee, I would that I had a priest here to shrive you, but as none is nigh you must then travel your road with all your sins packed upon your backs, and trust to St. Peter to let you in through the gates of paradise like three peddlers into the town. In the meantime, while all this had been going forward an old man had drawn near and stood leaning on his staff looking on. His hair and beard were all curly and white, and across his back was a bow of you that looked much too strong for him to draw. As the sheriff looked around ere he ordered his men to string the three youths up to the oak tree, his eyes fell upon this strange old man, and then his worship beckoned him to say, Come hither, father, I have a few words to say to thee. So little John, for it was none other than he, came forward, and the sheriff looked upon him thinking that there was something strangely familiar in the face before him. How now, said he, he thinks I have seen thee before, what may thy name be, father? Please, your worship, said little John, in a cracked voice like that of an old man. My name is Giles Hobble at your worship service. Giles Hobble? Giles Hobble, muttered the sheriff to himself, turning over the name that he had in his mind to try to find one to fit to this. I remember not thy name, said he at last, but it matters not. Has thou a mind to earn six pence this bright morn? I marry, quote little John, for money is not so plenty with me that I should cast six pence away, and I could earn it by an honest turn. What is it your worship would have me do? Why this, said the sheriff, here are three men that need hanging as badly as any air I saw. If thou would string them up I will pay the two pence apiece for them. I like not that my minute arm should turn hangman. But thy try thy hand? In sooth, said little John still in his old man's voice, I had never done such a thing before, but an another six pence is to be earned so easily I might as well had it to anybody. But your worship, are these naughty fellows strived? Nay, said sheriff, laughing, never a wit, but thou wits mayest turn thy hand to that also if thou art so minded. But he's an eye pretty, the eye would get back to mine in betimes. So little John came to where the three youths stood trembling and putting his face to the first fellow's cheek as though he were listening to him, he whispered softly into his ear, Stand still, brother, when thou feelest thy bands cut, but when thee seeest me throw my woollen wig and beard from my head and face, cast thy noose from my neck and run for the woodlands. Then he slyly cut the core that bound the youth's hands, who upon his part stood still as though he were yet bound. Then he went to the second fellow and spoke to him in the same way and also cut his bounds. This he did to the third, likewise, but also slyly that the sheriff who sat upon his horse, laughing, watched not what was being done nor his men either. Then little John turned to the sheriff. Please, your worship, said he, will you give me leave to string my bow, for I would feign help these fellows along the way when they are swinging with an arrow beneath the ribs. With all my heart, said the sheriff, only, as I said before, make thou haste in thy doings. Little John put the tip of his bow to his instep and strung the weapon so deftly that all wondered to see an old man so strong. Next he drew a good smooth arrow from his quiver and fitted it to the string and then looking all around to see that the way was clear behind him, he suddenly cast away the wool from his head and face, shouting in a mighty voice, run! Quick as a flash, the three used flung the nooses from their necks and sped across the open to the woodlands as the arrow speeds from the bow. Little John also flew toward the cover, like a greyhound, while the sheriff and his men gazed after him all bewildered with the sudden doings. But ere the yeoman had gone far, the sheriff roused himself. After him! he roared in a mighty voice, for he knew now what it was with whom he had been talking and wondered that he had not known him before. Little John heard the sheriff's words and, seeing that he could not hope to reach the woodlands before they would be upon him, he stopped and turned suddenly, holding his bow as though he were about to shoot. Stand back! cried he fiercely. The first man that come with a foot forward, a toucheth finger to bow string dyeth. At these words the sheriff's men stood as still as stalks, for they knew right well that Little John would be as good as his word, and that to disavow him meant death. In vain the sheriff roared at them, calling them cowards and urging them forward in a body they would not budge an inch, but stood and watched Little John as he moved slowly away toward the forest, keeping his gaze fixed upon them. But when the sheriff saw his enemy, the slipping betooksed his fingers he grew mad with rage, so that his head swam and he knew not what he did. Then of a sudden he turned his horse's head and plunging his spurs into its sides he gave a great shout, and rising in his stirrups came down upon Little John like the wind. Then Little John raised his deadly bow and drew the gray goose feather to his cheek. But alas for him! For ere he could lose the shaft, the good bow that had served him so long, split in his hands and the arrow fell harmless at his feet. Seeing what had happened the sheriff's men raised a shout and following their master came rushing down upon Little John. But the sheriff was ahead of the others and so caught up with the yeoman before he reached the shelter of the woodlands. Then leaning forward he struck a mighty blow. Little John, ducked in the sheriff's sword, turned in his hand, but the flat of the blades struck the other upon the head and smote him down, stunned and senseless. Now I am right glad, said the sheriff, when the men came up and found that Little John was not dead, that I have not slain this man in my haste. I would rather lose five hundred pounds than have him die, thus instead of hanging, as such a vile thief should do, go get some water from the yonder fountain willow and pour it over his head. The man did as he was bitten and presently Little John opened his eyes and looked around him, all dazed and bewildered with the stunt of the blow. Then they tied his hands behind him and lifting him up set him upon the back of one of the horses with his face to its tail and his feet strapped beneath its belly. So they took him back to the king's head in, laughing and rejoicing as they went along. But in the meantime the widow's three sons had gotten safely away and were hidden in the woodlands. Once more the sheriff of Nottingham sat with the king's head in. His heart rejoiced within him for he had last done that which he had sought to do for years, taken Little John prisoner. Quote he to himself, This time tomorrow the rogue shall hang upon the gallows tree in front of the great gate of Nottingham town, and thus shall I make my long score with him even. So saying, he took a deep draft of cannery, but it seemed as if the sheriff had swallowed a thought with his wine, for he shook his head and put the cup down hastily. Now, he muttered himself, I would not for a thousand pounds have this fellow slip through my fingers, yet should his master escape that foul ghee of Gisborne there is no knowing what he may do, for he is the cunningest naïve in all the world. This same Robin Hood, be like I had better not wait until tomorrow to hang this fellow. So saying, he pushed his chair back hastily and going forth from the end called his men together. Quote he, I will not wait no longer for the hanging of this rogue, but it shall be done forthwith, and that from that very tree once he saved those three young villains by stepping betwixt them at the law. So get ye ready, straight away. Then once more they sat little John upon the horse with his face to the tail, and so one leading the horse whereon he sat and the others riding around him they went forward to that tree from the branches of which they had thought to hang the poachers. On they went rattling and jingling along the road till they came to the tree. Here one of the men spoke to the sheriff of a sudden. Your worship, cried he, is not John fellow coming along toward us that same Guy of Gisborne whom thou dissent in the forest to seek Robin Hood? At these words the sheriff shaded his eyes and looked eagerly. Why, sir, yes, Quote he, John fellow is the same. Now heaven sent that he has slain the master thief as we will presently slay the man. When little John heard this speech he looked up and straight away his heart crumbled away within him for not only with a man's garments all covered with blood, but he wore Robin Hood's bugle horn and carried his bow and broadsword. How now, cried the sheriff when Robin Hood in Guy of Gisborne's clothes had come nigh to them, what luck hath befallen thee in the forest. Why, men, thy clothes are all covered with blood. And thou likeest not my clothes, and a harsh voice like that of Guy of Gisborne, thou mayst shut thine eyes, marry the blood upon me as that of the vile outlaw that ever trod the woodlands and one whom I have slain this day, albeit not without wound to myself. Then out spake little John for the first time since he had fallen into the sheriff's hands. O thy vile bloody wretch, I know thee Guy of Gisborne for who is the there that hath not heard of thee and cursed thee for the vile deeds of blood and rapine. Is it by such a hand as thine that the gentlest heart that ever beat is stilled in death? Truly thou art a fit tool for this coward sheriff of Nottingham. Now I die joyfully, nor do I care how I die for life is not to me. So, spake little John, the salt tears rolling down his brown cheeks. But the sheriff of Nottingham clapped his hands for joy. Now, Guy of Gisborne, cried he, if what thou tellest me is true, I will be the best days doing for thee that ever What I have told thee is sooth, and I lie not, said Robin, still in Guy of Gisborne's voice. Look, is not this Robinhood's sword and is not this his good bow of you and is not this his bugle horn? Thinkest thou he would have given them to Guy of Gisborne of his own free will? Then the sheriff laughed aloud for joy. This is a good day, cried he. The great outlaw dead and his right-hand man in my hands, ask what thou will to me, Guy of Gisborne, and it is thine. Then this I ask of thee, said Robin. As I have slain the master, I would now kill the man, give this fellow's life into my hands, sir sheriff. Now thou art a fool, cried sheriff. Thou mightest have had money enough for a night's ransom if thou hadn't asked for it. I like ill to let this fellow pass from my hands, but as I have promised thou shalt have him. I thank thee right heartily for thy gift, cried Robin. Take the rogue down from the horse, men, and lean him against the under-tree while I shalt have him. I thank thee right heartily for thy gift, and I show you how we stick a porker whence I come. But these words some of the sheriff's men shook their heads for thou they cared not a wit, whether little John were hanged or not, they hated to see him butchered in cold blood. But the sheriff called to them in a loud voice ordering them to take the yeomen down from the horse, and lean him against the tree as the others beat. While they were doing this, Robin hood strung both his bow and that of Guy of Gisborne, albeit none of them took notice of his doing so. Then when little John stood against the tree, against the tree, he drew of Giy of Gizborn's sharp double-edged dagger. Fall back! Fall back! cried he. Would ye crowd so on my pleasure, ye unmanorly knaves? Back I say, farther yet! So they crowded back as he ordered many of them turning their faces away, that they might not see what was about to happen. Come! cried little John. Here is my breast. It is meat that the same hand that slew my dear master should butcher me also. I know the Giy of Gizborn. Peace, little John, said Robin in a low voice. Twice thou hast said, thou knowest me, and yet thou knowest me not at all. Couldst thou not tell me beneath this wild beast's hide? Yonder, just in front of thee, line my bow and arrow. Likewise my broadsword. Take them when I cut thy binds. Now, quickly, get them. So saying, he cut the bones and little John, quick as a wink leapt forward and caught up the bow and arrows and the broadsword. At the same time Robin had threw back the cowl of horses hide from his face and bent Giy of Gizborn's bow with a keen barbed arrow fitted to the string. Stand back! cried he sternly. The first man that touches finger to bow string dyeth, I have slain thy man. Sheriff, take ye that it is not thy turn next. Then, seeing that little John had armed himself, he clapped his bugle horn to his lips and blew his three-blast, both loud and shrill. Now, when the sheriff of Nottingham saw whose face it was beneath Giy of Gizborn's hood, and when he heard those bugle notes ring in his ear, he felt as if his hour had come. Robinhood! roared he, and without another word he wheeled his horse in the road and went off in a cloud of dust. The sheriff's men, seeing their master thus fleeing for his life, thought that it was not their business to tarry longer. So, clapping spurs to their horses, they also dashed away after him. But though the sheriff of Nottingham went fast, he could not outstrip a clothured arrow. Little John twang his bow string with a shot, and when the sheriff dashed in through the gates of Nottingham town at full speed, a gray goose-chef stuck out behind him like a molting sparrow with one feather in its tail. For a month afterward, the poor sheriff could sit upon knot, but the softest cushion that could be gotten for him. Thus the sheriff and a score of men ran away from Robinhood and Little John, so that when the wheel studly and a dozen or more of stout yeoman burst from out of the cover they saw not of their master's enemies. For the sheriff and his men were scurrying away in the distance, hidden with a cloud of dust like a thunderstorm. Then they all went back into the forest once more, where they found the widow's three sons, who ran to Little John and kissed his hands. But it would not do for them to roam the forest at large any more, so they promised that after they had gone and told their mother of their escape they would come that night to the Greenwood Tree, and henceforth become men of the bond. Not more than two months had passed and gone since these stirring adventures befell Robinhood and Little John, when all Nottinghamshire was a mighty stir and tumult, for King Richard of the Lion's Heart was making a royal progress through Mary England, and everyone expected him to come to Nottingham Town in his journeying. Messengers went riding back and forth between the sheriff and the king, until at last the time was fixed upon when his majesty was to stop in Nottingham as the guest of his worship. And now came more bustle than ever, a great running hither and thither a rapping of hammers and babble of voices sounded everywhere through the place, for the folks were building great arches across the streets, beneath which the king was to pass, and were draping these arches with silken banners and streamers of many colors. Great hubbub was going on in the guild hall of the town also, for here a grand banquet was to be given to the king and the nobles of his train, and the best master carpenters were busy building a throne where the king and the sheriff were to sit at the head of the table side by side. It seemed to many of the good folk of the place, as if the day that should bring the king into the town would never come. But all the same it did come its own season, and bright shone the sun down into the stony streets which were all alive with a restless sea of people. On either side of the way great crowds of town and country folks stood packed as close together as dried herring in a box, so that the sheriff's men, halberds and hands, could hardly press them back to leave space for the king's riding. Take care whom thou pushest against, cried a great burly friar to one of these men. What's thou, dig thine elbows into mine, Sire? By a lady of the fountain on thou dost not treat me with more deference. I will crack thy naives pat for a day, even though thou be one of the mighty sheriff's men. At this a great shout of laughter arose from a number of tall yeoman in Lincoln Green that were scattered through the crowd thereabouts, but one that seemed of more authority than the others nudged the holy man with his elbow. Peace, tuck, said he, dits thou not promise me ere thou cameest here that thou would put a check upon thy tongue? I, Mary, grumbled the other, but I did not think that have a hard footed knave trample over my toes as though they were no more than so many acorns in the forest. But of a sudden all this bickering ceased, for a clear sound of many bugle-horns came winding down the street, then all the people craned their necks and gazed in the directions once they sound came, and the crowding and the pushing around the swaying grew greater than ever, and now a gallant array of men came gleaming into sight, and the cheering of the people ran down the streets as the fire runs in dry grass. Eight and twenty heralds in velvet and cloth of gold came riding forward. Over their heads fluttered a cloud of snow-white feathers, and each herald bore in his hand a long silver trumpet which he blew musically. From each trumpet hung a heavy banner of velvet and cloth of gold with the royal arms of England emblazoned thereon. After these came riding five-score noble knights, two by two, all fully armed, saving that their heads were uncovered, in their hands they bore tall lances from the tops of which fluttered pinnons of many colors and devices. By the side of each night walked a page clad in rich cloths of silk and velvet, and each page bore in his hands his master's helmet, from which waved long-flooding plumes of feathers. Never had Nottingham seen a fairer sight than these five-score noble knights, from whose armor the sun blazed in dazzling light as they came riding on their great war-horses, with clashing of arms and jingling of chains. Behind the knights came the barons and the nobles of the mid-country, in robes of silk and cloth of gold, with golden chains about their necks and jewels at their girdles. Behind these again came a great array of men-at-arms with spears and halberds in their hands, and in the midst of these two riders side by side. One of the horsemen was the sheriff of Nottingham in his robes of office. The other, who was a head taller than the sheriff, was clad in a rich but simple garb with a broad heavy chain around his neck. His hair and beard were like threads of gold, and his eyes were as blue as the summer sky. As he rode along he bowed to the right hand, and the left and a mighty roar of voices followed him as he passed for this was King Richard. Then, above all the tumult and the shouting, a great voice was heard mooring. Heaven, it's Saints bless thee, our gracious King Richard, and likewise our Lady of the Fountain bless thee! Then King Richard, looking toward the spot whence the sound came, saw a tall, burly, strapping priest standing in front of all the crowd with his legs wide apart as he backed against those behind. By my soul's sheriff, said the King, laughing, ye have the tallest priest in Nottinghamshire that ere I saw in my life. If heaven never answered prayers because of deafness me thinks I would nevertheless have blessings bestowed upon me, for that man yonder would make the great stone image of St. Peter rub its ears and hearken unto him, I would that I had an army of such as he. To this the sheriff answered never a word. But all the blood left his cheeks and he caught at the pommel of his saddle to keep himself from falling, for he also saw the fellow that so shouted and knew him to be Friartuck, and moreover behind Friartuck he saw the faces of Robin Hood and Little John and Will Scarlett and Will Stutley and Allana Dale and others of the band. How now, said the King hastily, art thou ill, sheriff, that thou growest so white? Nay, your majesties, said the sheriff, it was not but a sudden pain that will soon pass by. Thus he spoke, for he was ashamed that the King should know that Robin Hood feared him so little that he thus dared to come within the very gates of Nottingham Town. Thus rode the King into Nottingham Town on that bright afternoon in the early fall season, and none rejoiced more than Robin Hood and his merry men to see him come so royally unto his own. Even tide had come, the great feast in the Guild Hall at Nottingham Town was done, and the wine passed freely, a thousand waxen lights gleamed along the board, at which sat Lord and noble and Knight and Squire in goodly array. At the head of the table, upon a throne all hung with cloth of gold, sat King Richard, but the sheriff of Nottingham beside him. Quote the King to the sheriff, laughing as he spoke, I have heard much spoken concerning the doings of certain fellows hereabouts, one Robin Hood and his band, who are outlaws and abide in Sherwood Forest. Canst thou not tell me somewhat of them, sir sheriff, for I hear that thou hast had dealings with them more than once? At these words the sheriff of Nottingham looked down gloomily, and the bishop of Herford, who was present, nod his nethered lip. Quote the sheriff, I can tell you, your Majesty, but little concerning the doings of those naughty fellows, saving that they are the boldest lawbreakers in all the land. Then up spoke young Sir Henry of the Lea, a great favourite with the King under whom he had fought in Palestine. May it please your Majesty, said he, when I was away in Palestine, I heard alph-times from my father, and in most cases I heard of this very fellow Robin Hood, if your Majesty would like, I will tell you a certain adventure of this outlaw. Then the King, laughing, bade him tell his tale, whereupon he told how Robin Hood had aided Sir Richard of the Lea with money that he had borrowed from the bishop of Herford. Again and again the King in those presents floored with laughter, while the poor bishop waxed cherry red in the face with vexation, for the matter was a sore thing with him. When Sir Henry of Lea was done, others of those presents, seeing how the King enjoyed this Mary-Gel, told other tales concerning Robin and his merry men. By the hilt of my sword, said Stout King Richard, this is as bold and merry a nave as ever I heard tell of. Mary, I must take this matter in hand, and do what thou couldst, not the sheriff, do it, clear the forest of him and his band. That night the King sat in the place that was set apart from his lodgings while in Nottingham town. With him were young Sir Henry of Lea and two other knights and three barons of Nottinghamshire, but the King's mind still dwelled upon Robin Hood. Now, quote he, I would freely give a hundred pounds to meet this roguish fellow Robin Hood, and to see somewhat of his doings in Sherwood Forest. Then up spoke Sir Hubert of Gingham, laughing, if your majesty hath such a desire upon you it is not so hard to satisfy. If your majesty is willing to lose one hundred pounds, I will engage to cause you not only to meet this fellow, but to feast with him in Sherwood. Mary, Sir Hubert, quote the King, this pleaseth me well, but how wilt thou cause me to meet Robin Hood? Why, thus, said your Sir Hubert, let your majesty and us here present put on the robes of seven of the order of blackfriars, and let your majesty hang a purse of one hundred pounds beneath their gown, then let us undertake to ride from here to Mansfield Town tomorrow, and without I am much mistaken we will both meet with Robin Hood and dine with him before the day be passed. I like thy plans, Sir Hubert, quote the King merrily, and tomorrow we will try it and see whether there will be virtue in it. So it happened, that when early the next morning the sheriff came to where his liege lord was abiding to pay his duty to him, the King told him what they had talked of the night before, and what merry adventure they were set upon undertaking that morning. But when the sheriff heard this he smote his forehead with his fist. Alas! said he, what evil counsel is this that hath been given thee? Oh, my gracious lord and king, you know not what you do. This villain that you thus go to seek hath no reverence either for King or King's laws. But did I not hear a right when I was told that this Robin Hood hath shed no blood since he was outlawed, saving only that of that vile gi of Gisborne, for whose death all honestmen should thank him? Yeah, your majesty, said the sheriff, you have heard a right, nevertheless. Then, quote the King, breaking in on the sheriff's speech, what have I do to fear in meeting him, having done him no harm? Truly there is no danger in this, but may hath thou wilt go with us, sir sheriff? Nay, quote the sheriff hastily heaven, forbid! But now seven habits such as black fires were brought, and the King and those about him having clad themselves therein, and his majesty having hung a purse with hundred golden pounds in it beneath his robes, they all went forth and mounted the mules that had been brought to the door for them. Then the King bade the sheriff be silent as to their doings, and so they set forth upon their way. Onward they traveled, laughing and jesting until they passed through the open country, between bare harvest fields whence the harvest had been gathered home, through scattered glades that began to thicken as they went farther along, till they came within the heavy shade of the forest itself. They traveled in the forest for several miles without meeting anyone such as they sought, until they had come to that part of the road that lay near us to Nusted Abbey. By the holy saint Martin, quote the King, I would that I had a better head for remembering things of great need. Here have we come away and brought never so much as a drop of anything to drink with us. Now I would give half a hundred pounds for somewhat to quench my thirst with all. No sooner had the King so spoken than out from the cupboard at the roadside stepped a tall fellow with yellow beard and hair and a pair of merry blue eyes. Truly holy brother, saying he laying his hand upon the King's bridal reign, it were an un-Christian thing to not give fitting answer to so fair a bargain. We keep an inn hereabouts, and for fifty pounds we will not only give thee a good draft of wine, but we will give thee as noble a feast as ever thou did tickle thy gullet with all. So, saying, he put his fingers to his lips and blew a shrill whistle, then straight away the bushes and branches on either side of the road swayed and crackled and three-score broad-shouldered yeoman in Lincoln Green burst out into the covert. How now, fellow, quote the King, wow, who art thou, thou naughty rogue, hast thou no regard for such holy men as we are? Not a wit, quote Mary Robin Hood, for though fellow was he, for in sooth all the holiness belonging to rich friars, such as ye are, one could drop into a thimble and the good wife would never feel it with the tip of her finger. As for my name, it is Robin Hood, and thou mayest have heard it before. Now, out upon thee, quote King Richard, thou art a bold and naughty fellow and a lawless one with all, as I have often heard. Tell, now, prithee, let me and these brethren of mine travel forward in peace and quietness. It may not be, said Robin, for it would look but ill of us to let such holy men travel onward with empty stomachs, but I doubt not that thou hast a fat purse to pay the score at our in since thou offered freely so much for a poor draft of wine. Show me thy purse, Reverend Brother, or I may perchance have to strip thy robes from thee to search for it myself. Nay, use no force, said the King sternly. Here is my purse, but lay not the lawless hands upon our person. Ah, tot, tot, quote Mary Robin, what proud words are these? Wilt thou the King of England to talk so to me? Here will take this person, see what there is within. Will Scarlet took the purse and counted out the money. Then Robin bade him keep fifty pounds for himself and put fifty back into the purse. This he handed to the King. Here, brother, quote he, take this half of thy money and thanks, Saint Martin, on whom thou didst call before, that thou hastn't fallen into the hands of such gentle rogues that there will not strip thee bare as they might do, but wilt thou not pat thy cow, for I would vain see thy face. Nay, said the King, I may not put back my cow, for we seven have vowed that we will not show our faces for four and twenty hours. Then keep them covered in peace, said Robin, and for be it from me to make you break your vows. So he called seven of his yeoman and bade them each take a mule by the bridle, then turning their faces toward the depths of the woodland they journeyed onward until they came to the open glade and greenwood tree. Little John, with three score yeoman at his heels, had also gone forth that morning to wait along the roads and bring a rich guest to Sherwood Glade, if such might be his luck, for many with fat purses must travel the roads at this time when such great newings were going on in Nottinghamshire. But though little John and so many others were gone, fire tuck and two score or more stout yeoman were seated or lying around beneath the great tree, and when Robin and the others came they leapt to their feet to meet him. By my soul, quoth Mary King Richard, when he had gotten down from his mule and stood looking about him, thou hast in a very truth a fine lot of young men about thee, Robin, me thinks King Richard himself would be glad of such a bodyguard. Ah! These are not all my fellows, said Robin proudly, for three score more of them are away on business with my good bright-hand man, Little John. But as for King Richard I tell thee, brother, there is not a man of us all but would pour out our blood like water for him. Ye churchmen cannot rightly understand our king, but we yeoman love him right loyally for the sake of his brave doings which are so like our own. But now, fryer tuck came bustling up. Gee ye good den brothers, said he, I am right glad to welcome some of my cloth in this naughty place. Truly me thinks these rogues of outlaws would stand but an ill chance were it not for the prayers of holy tuck who laboreth so hard for their well-being. Here he winked one eye slightly and stuck his tongue into his cheek. Who art thou, mad priest? said the king in a serious force, albeit he smiled beneath his cow. But this fryer truck looked all around with a slow gaze. Look ye now, Quothee, never let me hear you say again that I am no patient man. Here is a nave of fryer, calleth me a mad priest, and yet I smite him not. My name is fryer tuck, fellow, the holy fryer tuck. There tuck, said Robin, thou hast said it now, prithee, cease thy tuck and bring some wine. These reverend men are a thirst and sin they have paid so richly for their score, they mustn't have the best. Fryer tuck bridled at being so checked in his speech. Nevertheless he went straight away to do Robin's bidding. So presently a great crock was brought, and wine was poured out for all the guests and for Robinhood. Then Robin held his cup aloft. Stay, cried he, tarry in your drinking till I give you a pledge. Here is to good King Richard of great renown, and may all enemies to him be confounded. Then all drank the king's health, even the king himself. Me thinks, good fellow, said he, thou hast drunk to thine own confusion. Narrow wit, quoth Mary Robin, for I tell thee, that we of Sherwood are more loyal to our lord the king than those of thine order. We would give up our lives for his benefitting, while ye are constant to lie snug in your abbeys and priors, let reign who will. At this the king laughed, quoth he, perhaps King Richard's welfare is more to me than thou waltest of, fellow, but enough of that matter. We have paid well for our fare, so canst thou not show us some merry entertainment? I have often heard that ye are wondrous archers, wilt thou not show us somewhat of your skills. With all my heart, said Robin, we are always pleased to show our guests all the sport that is to be seen. As Gaffer Swenthalt saith, tis a hard hearth that will not give a cage-starling of the best, and cage-starlings ye are with us. Ho lads, set up garlands at the end of the glade. Then, as the yeoman ran to their master's bidding, Tuck turned to one of the Mac from Mock Friar's. Here is thou our master, both he, with this line-wing. Whenever he cometh across some poor piece of wit, he straightway layeth on the shoulders of this Gaffer Swenthalt, whoever he may be, so that the poor good man goeth travelling about with all the odds and ends and tags and rags of our master's brain packed on his back. Thoth spake Friar Tuck, but in a low voice so that Robin could not hear him. For he felt somewhat netled at Robin's cutting his talk so short. In the meantime, the mark at which they were to shoot was set up six score Pace's distance. It was a garland of leaves and flowers, two spans and width, which same was hung upon a stake in front of a broad-tree trunk. There, quoth Robin, yawn is a fair mark, lads. Each of you shoot three arrows there at, and if any fellow misses by so much as one arrow, he shall have a Buffett of Will Scarlett's fist. Hark into him, quoth Friar Tuck. Why master, thou dust-pisto, Buffett's from thy strapping nephew as though they were love-taps from some bouncing lass. I warrant thou art safe to hit the garland thyself, or thou waltz not to be so free of his cuffing. First David of Dankaster shot, and lodged all three of his arrows within the garland. Well done, David, cried Robin. Thus hath saved thine ears from a warming this day. Next Midge the Miller shot, and he also lodged his arrows in the garland. Then followed Watt the Tinker, but alas for him, for one of his shaft missed the mark by the breadth of two fingers. Come hither, fellow, said Will Scarlett, in his soft, gentle voice. I owe thee somewhat that I would pay for within. Then Watt the Tinker came forward and stood in front of Will Scarlett, screwing up his face and shutting his eyes tightly as though he already felt his ears ringing with the Buffett. Will Scarlett rolled up his sleeves, and standing on tiptoe to give the greater swing to his arm, he struck with might and mane. Woof! Came his palm against the Tinker's head, and down went Stout Watt to the grass, heels overhead, as the wooden image at the fair ground goes down when the skillful player throws a cudgel at it. Then as the Tinker sat up upon the grass, rubbing his ears and winking and blinking at the bright stars that danced between his eyes, the yeoman roared with mirth till the forest rang. As for King Richard, he laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks, thus the bands shot each in turn, some getting off scot-free, some winning a Buffett that always sent them to the grass. And now, last of all, Robin took his place, and all was hushed as he shot. The first shaft he shot split a piece from the stake on which the garland was hung. The second lodged within an inch of the other. By my halledom, said King Richard to himself, I would give a thousand pounds for this fellow to be one of my guard, and now for the third time Robin shot. But alas for him, the arrow was ill-feathered, and wavered to one side, it smote an inch outside the garland. At this a great roar went up, those of the yeoman who sat upon the grass, rolling over and over, shouting with laughter, for never before had they seen their master so miss the mark. But Robin flung his bow upon the ground with vexation. Now, out upon it, cried he, thou shaft had an ill-feathered to it, for I felt it as it left my fingers. Give me a clean arrow, and I will engage to split the wand with it. At these words the yeoman laughed louder than ever. Nay, good uncle, said Will Scarlet in his soft sweet voice, thou hast and I fair chance, and hast missed thine aim out and out. I swear the arrow was as good as any that hath been loosened this day. Come hither, I owe thee somewhat, and would feign pay it. Go, good master, roared firetuck, and may may blessing go with thee. Thou hast bestowed these love-taps of Will Scarlet's with great freedom. It were pity on thou, gottest not thine own share. It may not be, said Mary Robin. I am king here, and no subject may raise hand against the king. But even our great King Richard may yield to the holy pope without shame, and even take a tap from him by way of penance. Therefore I will yield myself to this holy friar, who seemeth to be one in authority, and will take my punishment from him. Thus saying, he turned to the king, I pretty brother, will thou take my punishing into thy holy hands? With all my heart, quoth Mary King Richard, rising from where he was sitting, I owe thee somewhat for having lifted a heavy weight of fifty pounds from my purse, so make room for him and the green lads. And thou makes me tumble, quoth Robin, I will freely give thee back thy fifty pounds, but I tell thee, brother, if thou makest me not feel grass all along my back, I will take every farthing thou hast for thy boastful speech. So be it, said the king. I am willing to venture it. Thereupon he rolled up his sleeve and showed an arm that make the yeoman stare, a Robin with his feet wide apart stood firmly planted, waiting the other, smiling. Then the king swung back his arm and, balancing himself a moment, he delivered a buffadette Robin that fell like a thunderbolt. Down went Robin, headlong upon the grass, for the stroke would have felled a stone wall. Then how the yeoman shouted with laughter, till their sides ached, for never had they seen such a buffad given in all their lives. As for Robin, he presently sat up and looked all around him, as though he had dropped from a cloud and had lit in a place he had never seen before. After a while, still gazing about him, at his laughing yeoman, he put his fingertips softly to his ear and felt all around it tenderly. Will Scarlet, said he, count this fellow out his fifty pounds, I want nothing more either of his money or of him, or a merman seized him and his buffeting, I would that I had taken my dues from thee, for I verily believe he hath deafened mine ear from ever hearing again. Then, while gusts of laughter still broke from the band, will Scarlet count it out the fifty pounds, and the king dropped it back into his purse again. I give thee thanks, fellow, said he, and if ever thou shalt wished for another box of the ear to match the one thou hast, come to me, and I will fit thee with one for naught. So spake the merry king. But even as he ended there came suddenly the sound of many voices, and out from the covert burst little John, and three score men with Sir Richard of the Lee in his midst. Across the glade they came running, and as they came, Sir Richard shouted to Robin, make haste, dear friend, gather thy band together, and come with me. King Richard left Nottingham town this very morning, and cometh to seek thee in the woodlands. I know not how he cometh, for it was but a rumor of this that reached me. Nevertheless, I know that it is the truth. Therefore hasten with all thy men, and come to castle thee, for there thou mayest lay hidden till thy present danger passeth. Who are these strangers that thou hast with thee? Why, quote Mary Robin, rising from the grass, these are certain gentle guests that come with us from the high road over by Newstead Abbey. I know not their names, but I have become right well acquainted with this lusty rogue's palm this morning. Mary, the pleasure of this acquaintance, hath dost me a deaf ear and fifty pounds to boot. Sir Richard looked keenly at the tall friar, who, drawing himself up to his full height, looked fixedly back at the night. Then, of a sudden, Sir Richard's cheek grew pale, for he knew who it was that he looked upon. Quickly he leapt from off his horses back, and flung himself upon his knees before the other. At this, the king, seeing that Sir Richard knew him, threw back his cowl, and all the yeoman saw his face, and knew him also. For there was not one of them, but had been in the crowd of the good town of Nottingham, and had seen him riding side by side with the sheriff. Down they fell upon their knees, nor could they say a word. Then the king looked all around, right grimly, and last of all his glance came back and rested again upon Richard of Lee. How is this, Sir Richard? said he sternly. How darest thou step between me and these fellows, and how darest thou offer thy nightly castle of the Lee for a refuge to them? Will thou make it a hiding place for the most renowned outlaws in England? Then, Sir Richard of the Lee raised his eyes to the king's face. Far be it for me, said he, to do ought that could bring your majesty's anger upon me. Yet sooner would I face your majesty's wrath, and suffer ought of harm, that I could stay to fall upon Robin Hood and his band. For to them I owe life, honor, everything. Should I then desert him in this hour of need? ere the night had done speaking, one of the mock-friars that stood near the king came forward and knelt beside Sir Richard, and throwing back his cow, shewed the face of young Sir Henry of the Lee. Then, Sir Henry, grasped his father's hand, and said, here kneels one who hath served thee well, King Richard, and as thou knowest hath stepped between thee and death in Palestine. Yet do I abide by my dear father, and here I say also that I would freely give shelter to this noble outlaw, Robin Hood, even though it brought thy wrath upon me for my father's honor, and my father's welfare, are as dear to me as mine own. King Richard looked from one to the other of the kneeling knights, and at last the frown faded from his brow, and a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. Mary, Sir Richard, quote the king, Thou art a bold-spoken knight, and thy freedom of speech weith not heavily against thee with me. This young son of mine, taken after his sire, both in boldness of speech and of deed, for as he saith he stepped one time betwixt me and death, therefore I would pardon thee for his sake, even if thou hast done more than thou hast. Rise all ye, for ye shall suffer no harm through me this day, for it were pity that a merry time should end in a manner as a tomorrow's joyousness. Then all arose, and the king beckoned Robin Hood to come to him. How now, quoth he, is thine ear still too deaf to hear me speak? Mine eye ears would be deafened in death, ere they would cease to hear your majesty's voice, said Robin. As for the blow that your majesty struck me, I would say that though my sins are happily many, me thinks they have been paid up in full thereby. Ah, thinkest thou so? said the king with somewhat of a sternness in his voice. Now I tell thee that but before three things to wit, my mercifulness, my love for a stout woodsman, and the loyalty thou hast avowed for me, thine ears may have been more tightly closed than ever a buffet for me could have shut them. Talk not lightly of thy sins, good Robin, but come look up. Thy danger has passed, for hereby I give thee and all thy ban free pardon, but in sooth I cannot let you roam the forest as ye have done in the past. Therefore I will take thee at thy word, when thou didst say, thou wouldst give thy service to me, and thou shalt go back to London with me. Who will take that bold nave, little John also, and likewise thy cousin will scarlet, and thy minstrel, Allen Adale. As for the rest of thy ban, we will take their names and have them duly recorded as royal rangers. For me thinks it were wiser to have them changed to law-abiding caretakers of our dear and Sherwood than to leave them to run at large as outlaw slayers their home. But now, get a feast ready, I would see how ye live in the woodlands. So Robin bade his men make ready a grand feast, straight away great fires were kindled and burned brightly at which savoury things roasted sweetly. Whilst this was going forward, the king bade Robin call Allen Adale, for he would hear him sing. So word was passed for Allen, and presently he came bringing his harp. Mary said, King Richard, if thy singing match thy looks, it is fair enough, prithee, strike up a ditty and let us have taste of thy skill. Then Allen touched his harp lightly, and all words were hushed while he sang thus. Where hast thou been, my daughter? Oh, where hast thou been this day, daughter, my daughter? Oh, I have been to the riverside where the waters lie all gray and wide, and the gray sky broods are the leaden tide, and the shrill winds size a straining, and the shrill winds size a straining. What saw as thou there, my daughter? What saw as thou there, this day, daughter, my daughter? Oh, I saw a boat come drifting nigh where the quivering rushes hiss and sigh, and the water sows as it gurgles by, and the shrill winds size a straining, and the shrill winds size a straining. What sailed in the boat, my daughter? What sailed in the boat, this day, daughter, my daughter? Oh, there was a one-aw clad in white, and about his face hung a pallid light, and his eyes gleamed sharp like the stars at night, and the shrill winds size a straining, and the shrill winds size a straining. And what said he, my daughter? What said he to thee, this day, daughter, my daughter? Oh, said he not, but did he this? Price on my lips did he press a kiss, and my heart strings shrunk with an awful bliss, and the shrill winds size a straining, and the shrill winds size a straining. Why grow as thou so cold, my daughter? Why grow as thou so cold and white, daughter, my daughter? Oh, never a word the daughter said, but she sat all straight with a drooping head, for her heart was stilled, and her face was dead, and the shrill winds size a straining, and the shrill winds size a straining. All listened in silence, and when Alan Adale had done, King Richard heaved a sigh. By the breath of my body, Alan, quote he, thou has such a wondrous sweet voice that it strangely moves my heart. But what doleful did he is this for the lips of a stout yeoman? I would rather hear thee sing a song of love and battle than a sad thing like that. Moreover, I understand it not. What meanest thou by the words? I know not, your majesty, said Alan, shaking his head, for off times I sing that which I do not clearly understand my own self. Well, well, quote the king, let it pass. Only I tell thee this, Alan, thou shouldest turn thy songs to such matter as I spoke of, to wit, love, or war. For in sooth thou hast a sweeter voice than Blondel, and me thought he was the best minstrel that ever I heard. But now one came forward and said that the feast was ready. So Robin Hood brought King Richard and those with him to wear it lay all spread out on fair white linen cloths, which lay upon the soft green grass. Then King Richard sat him down, and feasted, and drank, and when he was done he swore roundly that he had never sat at such a lusty repast in all his life before. That night he lay in her Sherwood forest, upon a bed of sweet green leaves, and early the next morning he set forth from the woodlands for knotting him town. Robin Hood and all his band going with him. You may guess what a stir there was in the good town when all those famous outlaws came marching into the streets, as for the sheriff. He knew not what to say, nor where to look when he saw Robin Hood in such high favor with the king, while all his heart was filled with gall because of the vexation that lay upon him. The next day the king took leave of knotting him town. So Robin Hood, and Little John, and Will Scarlett, and Alana Dale shook hands with all the rest of the band, kissing the cheeks of each man, and swearing that they would often come to Sherwood and see them. Then each mounted his horse, and rode away in the train of the king. End of Chapter 21 The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit www.librivox.org. Today's reading by Alex Foster, www.alexfoster.me.uk. The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle. Epilogue. Thus end the Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. For in spite of his promise, it was many a year he saw Sherwood again. After a year or two at court, Little John came back to knotting himself, where he lived in an orderly way, though within sight of Sherwood, and where he achieved great fame as the champion of all England with the quarter-stuff. Will Scarlett, after a time, came back to his own home, whence he had been driven by his unlucky killing of his father's steward. The rest of the band did their duty as royal rangers right well, but Robin Hood and Alana Dale did not come again to Sherwood so quickly, for thus it was. Robin, through his great fame as an archer, became a favourite with the king, so that he speedily rose in rank to be chief of all yeoman. At last the king, seeing how faithful and how loyal he was, created him earl of Huntingdon, so Robin followed the king to the wars, and found his time so full that he had no chance to come back to Sherwood for even so much as a day. As for Alana Dale and his wife, the Fair Ellen, they followed Robin Hood and shared in all his ups and downs of life. And now, dear friend, you who have journeyed with me in all these merry doings, I will not bid you follow me further, but will drop your hand here with a good den if you wish it, for that which cometh hereafter speaks of the breaking up of things, and shows how joys and pleasures that are dead and gone can never be set upon their feet to walk again. I will not dwell upon the matter over long, but will tell as speedily as I may, of how that stout fellow Robin Hood died as he had lived, not at the court as earl of Huntingdon, but with bow in hand, his heart in the green wood, and he himself a right yeoman. King Richard died upon the battlefield in such a way as properly became a lion-hearted king, as you yourself no doubt know. So after a time the earl of Huntingdon, or Robin Hood as we still call him as of old, finding nothing for his doing abroad, came back to merry England again. With him came Alana Dale and his wife, the Fair Ellen, for these two had been chief of Robin's household ever since he had left for Sherwood Forest. He was in the springtime when they landed once more on the shores of England. The leaves were green and the small birds sang blithely, just as they used to do in Fair Sherwood when Robin Hood roamed the woodland shades with a free heart and a light heel. All the sweetness of the time and the joyousness of everything brought back to Robin's mind his forest life, so that a great longing came upon him to behold the woodlands once more. He went straight way to King John and besought leave of him to visit Nottingham for a short season. The king gave him leave to come and go, but made him not stay longer than three days at Sherwood, so Robin Hood and Alana Dale set forth without delay to Nottinghamshire and Sherwood Forest. The first night they took up their inn at Nottingham Town, yet they did not go pay their duty to the sheriff, for his worship bore many a bitter grudge against Robin Hood, which grudges had not been lessened by Robin's rise in the world. The next day at an early hour they mounted their horses and set forth for the woodlands. As they passed along the road it seemed to Robin that he knew every stick and stone that his eyes looked upon. Yondo was a path that he had oft times trod of a mellow evening with little John beside him. Here was one, now nigh choked with brambles, along which he and a little band had walked when they went forth to see a certain curdle-friar. Thus they rode slowly onward, talking about these old familiar things, old and yet new, for they found more in them than they had ever thought of before. Thus at last they came to the open glade and the broad, wide-spending Greenwood Tree which was their home for so many years. Neither of the two spoke when they stood beneath that tree. Robin looked all about him at the well-known things, so like what they used to be and yet so different. Thor, where once was the bustle of many busy fellows, was now the quietness of solitude, and as he looked the woodlands, the greenswood, and the sky all blurred together in his sight through salt tears, for such a yearning came upon him as he looked on these things, as well known to him as the fingers of his right hand, but he could not keep back the water from his eyes. That morning he had slung his good old bugle-horn over his shoulder, and now with the yearning came a great longing to sound his bugle once more. He raised it to his lips, he blew a blast. Terilla Lirilla, the sweet clear notes went winding down the forest paths, coming back again from the more distant bosky shades in faint echoes of sound. Terilla Lirilla, Terilla Lirilla, Lirilla, until it faded away and was lost. Now a chance that on that very morning little John was walking through a spur of the forest upon certain matters of business, and as he paced along sunk in meditation, the faint clear notes of a distant bugle-horn came to his ear. As leaps the stag when it feels the arrow at its heart, so leapt little John when that distant sound met his ear. All the blood in his body seemed to rush like a flame into his cheeks as he bent his head and listened. Again came the bugle note, thin and clear, and yet again it sounded. Then little John gave a great wild cry of yearning of joy and yet of grief, and putting down his head he dashed into the thicket. Onward he plunged, crackling and rending, as the wild boar rushes through the underbrush. Little wrecked heave thorns and briars that scratched his flesh and tore his clothing, for all he thought of was to get by the shortest way to the greenwood glade where he knew the sound of the bugle-horn came. Out he burst from the covert at last, a shower of little broken twigs falling about him and, without pausing a moment, rushed forward and flung himself at Robin's feet. Then he clasped his arms round his master's knees, and all his body was shaken with great sobs. Neither could Robin nor Alenadeil speak, but stood looking down at little John, the tears rolling down their cheeks. While they thus stood, seven royal rangers rushed into the open glade and raised a great shout of joy at the sight of Robin, and at their head was Will Stootley. Then after a while came four more, panting with their running, and two of these four were Will Scaithlock and Midge, the miller. For all of these had heard the sound of Robin Hood's horn. All these ran to Robin and kissed his hands and his clothing with great sound of weeping. After a while, Robin looked around him with tear-dimmed eyes and said in a husky voice, Now I swear that never again will I leave these dear woodlands. I have been away from them and from you too long. Now do I lay by the name of Robert, Earl of Huntingdon, and take upon me once again that nobler title, Robin Hood, the Yeoman. At this a great shout went up, and all the Yeoman shook one another's hands for joy. The news that Robin Hood had come back again to dwell in show-worders of old spread like wildfire all over the countryside, so that ere a sun-night had passed nearly all of his old Yeoman had gathered about him again. But when the news of all this had reached the ears of King John, he swore both loud and deep, and took a solemn vow that he would not rest until he had Robin Hood in his power dead or alive. Now there was present at court a certain night Sir William Dale, as gallant a soldier as ever donned harness. Sir William Dale was well acquainted with show-word forest, for he was head-keeper over that part of it that lay nigh to Goodmansfield town, so to him the King turned and paid him take an army of men and go straight way to seek Robin Hood. Likewise the King gave Sir William his signet-ring to show to the sheriff that he might raise all his armed men to aid others in their chase of Robin. So Sir William and the sheriff set forth to do the King's bidding and to search for Robin Hood, and for seven days they hunted up and down, yet found him not. Now had Robin Hood been as peaceful as of old, everything might have ended in smoke as other such ventures had always done before, but he had fought for years under King Richard and was changed from what he used to be. It galled his pride to thus flee away before those sent against him as a chased fox flees from the hounds, so thus it came about at last that Robin Hood and his Yeoman met Sir William and the sheriff and their men in the forest, and a bloody fight followed. The first man slain in that fight was the sheriff of Nottingham, for he fell from his horse with an arrow in his brain ere half a score of shafts had been sped. Many a better man than the sheriff kissed the sod that day, but at last Sir William Dale being wounded and most of his men slain he withdrew, beaten and left the forest, but scores of good fellows were left behind him, stretched out all stiff beneath the sweet green boughs. But though Robin Hood had beaten off his enemies in a fair fight, all this lay heavily upon his mind so that he brooded over it until a fever seized upon him. For three days it held him, and though he strove to fight it off he was forced to yield at last. Thus it came that on the morning of the fourth day he called little John to him and told him that he could not shake the fever from him, and that he would go to his cousin, the prioresse of the nunnery near Kirkleys in Yorkshire, who was a skilful leech, and he would have her open a vein in his arm and take a little blood from him for the bettering of his health. Then he bade little John make ready to go also, for he might perchance need aid in his journeying. So little John and he took their leave of the others, and Robin Hood bade Will Stutley to be the captain of the band until they should come back. Thus they came by easy stages and slow journeying until they reached the nunnery of Kirkleys. Now Robin had done much to aid this cousin of his, for it was through King Richard's love of him that she had been made prioresse of the place. But there is naught in the world so easily forgot as gratitude. So when the prioresse of Kirkleys had heard how her cousin, the Earl of Huntingdon, had thrown away his earldom and gone back to Sherwood, she was vexed to the soul, and feared lest her cousinship with him should bring the King's wrath upon her also. Thus it happened that when Robin came to her and told her how he wished her service as a leech, she began plotting ill against him in her mind, thinking that by doing evil to him she might find favour with his enemies. Nevertheless she kept this world to herself and received Robin with seeming kindness. She led him up a winding stone stair to a room which was just beneath the eaves of a high round tower, but she would not let little John come with him. So the poor yeoman turned his feet away from the door of the nunnery and left his master in the hands of the women. But though he did not come in, neither did he go far away, for he laid him down in a little glade nearby where he could watch the place that Robin abided, like some great faithful dog turned away from the door where his master has entered. After the women had gotten Robin Hood to the room beneath the eaves, the prioresse sent all of the others away. Then taking a little cord she tied it tightly about Robin's arm, as though she were about to bleed him. And so she did bleed him, but the vein she opened was not one of those that lie close and blue beneath the skin. Deeper she cut than that, for she opened one of those veins through which the bright red blood runs leaping from the heart. Of this Robin knew not, for though he saw the blood flow it did not come far enough to make him think there was anything ill in it. Having done this vile deed, the prioresse turned and left her cousin, locking the door behind her. All that lifelong day the blood ran from Robin Hood's arm, nor could he check it, though he strove in every way to do so. Again and again he called for help, but no help came, for his cousin had betrayed him, and little John was too far away to hear his voice. So he bled and bled, until he felt his strength slipping away from him. Then he arose, tottering, and bearing himself up by the palms of his hands against the wall, he reached his bugle-horn at last. Thrice he sounded it, but weakly and faintly, for his breath was flattering through sickness and loss of strength. Nevertheless little John heard it, where he lay in the glade, and with a heart all sick with dread, he came running and leaping toward the nunnery. Loudly he knocked at the door, and a loud voice shouted for them to let him in. But the doors of massive oak strongly barred and studded with spikes, so they felt safe and bade little John begone. Then little John's heart was mad with grief and fear for his master's life. Wildly he looked about him, and his sight fell upon a heavy stone mortar such as three men could not lift nowadays. Little John took three steps forward and, bending his back, heaved the stone mortar up from where it stood deeply rooted. Beggaring under its weight he came forward and hurled it crashing against the door. In burst the door, and a wave led the frightened nuns shrieking at his coming. Then little John strode in, and never a word said he, but up the winding stone steps he ran till he reached the room wherein his master was. Here he found the door locked also, but putting his shoulder against it, he burst the locks as though they were made of brittle ice. There he saw his own dear master, leaning against the grey stone wall, his face all white and drawn, and his head swaying to and fro with weakness. Then with a great wild cry of love and grief and pity little John leapt forward and caught Robin Hood in his arms. Up he lifted him as a mother lifts her child, and carrying him to the bed, laid him tenderly thereon. And now the prior S came in hastily, for she was frightened at what she had done and dreaded the vengeance of little John and the others of the band. Then she staunched the blood by cunning bandages, so that it flowed no more. All the while little John stood grimly by, and after she had done, he sternly bade her to be gone, and she obeyed, pale and trembling. Then after she had departed little John spake cheering words, laughing loudly and saying that all this was a child's fright and that no stout yeoman would die at the loss of a few drops of blood. Why, Iquathi, give the ascend night, and thou will be roaming the woodlands as boldly as ever. But Robin shook his head and smiled faintly where he lay. My known dear little John whispered here, heaven bless thy kind rough heart, but dear friend, we will never roam the woodlands together again. Aye, but we will quoth little John loudly. I say again, aye, out upon it, who dares say that any more harm shall come upon thee? Am I not by? Let me see who dares touch. Here he stopped off of a sudden, for his words choked him. At last he said in his deep husky voice, now if ought of harm befalls thee, because of this day's doings, I swear by St. George that the red cock shall crow over the roof-tree of this house, for the hot flames shall lick every crack and cranny thereof. As for these women, here he gloved his teeth. It will be an ill day for them. But Robin Hood took little John's rough brown fist in his white hands and chit him softly in his low weak voice, asking him since what time little John had thought of doing harm to women, even in vengeance. Thus he talked till at last the other promised in a choking voice that no ill should fall upon the place no matter what happened. Then a silence fell, and little John sat with Robin Hood's hand in his, gazing out of the open window, ever under none swallowing a great lump that came in his throat. Meantime the sun dropped slowly in the west till all the sky was a blaze with a red glory. Then Robin Hood, in a weak, faltering voice, bade little John him that he might look out once more upon the woodlands. So the yeoman lifted him in his arms as he bade, and Robin Hood's head lay on his friend's shoulder. Long he gazed with a wide lingering look, while the other sat with a boat head. The hot tears rolling one after another from his eyes and dripping upon his bosom, for he felt that the time of parting was near at hand. Then, presently, Robin Hood bade him string his stout bow for him and chose a smooth, fair arrow from his quiver. This little John did, though without disturbing his master, or rising from where he sat. Robin Hood's fingers wrapped lovingly around his good bow, and he smiled faintly when he felt it in his grasp. Then he knocked the arrow on that part of the string that tips of his fingers knew so well. Little John said he little John, my own dear friend, and him I love better than all the others in the world. Mark, I prithee where this arrow lodges, and there let my grave be buried. Lay me with my face toward the east, little John, and see that my resting place be kept green, and that my weary bones be not disturbed. As he finished speaking, he raised himself of a sudden and sat upright. His old strength seemed to come back to him, and drawing the bow string to his ear, he sped the arrow out of the open casement. As the shaft flew, his hand sank slowly with the bow till it lay across his knees, and his body likewise sank back again into little John's loving arms. But something had sped from that body, even as the winged arrow spenged from the bow. For some minutes little John sat motionless, but presently he laid that which he held gently down, then folding the hands upon the breast and covering up the face, he turned upon his heel and left the room without a word or a sound. Upon the steep stairway he met the prioress and some of the chief among the sisters. To them he spoken a deep quivering voice, and said he, an ego within a score of feet of yonder room, I will tear down your rockery over your heads, so that not one stone shall be left upon another. Bear my words well in mind, for I mean them. So saying he turned and left them, and they presently saw him running rapidly across the open, and through the falling of the dusk, until he was swallowed up by the forest. The early gray of the coming morn was just beginning to lighten the black sky toward the eastward when they saw the nunnery. They saw no one, for the sisters were all hidden away from sight, having been frightened by little John's words. Up the stone stair they ran, and a great sound of weeping was presently heard. After a while this ceased, and then came the scuffling and shuffling of men's feet as they carried a heavy weight down the steep and winding stairs. So they went forth from the nunnery, and as they passed forth, as though many men hidden in the shadows had lifted up their voices in sorrow. Thus died Robin Hood, her turquoise nunnery in fair Yorkshire, with mercy in his heart toward those that had been his undoing. For thus he showed mercy for the airing and pity for the weak through all the time of his living. His yeoman was scattered henceforth, but no great ill befell them thereafter, for a more merciful sheriff, and one being separated here and there throughout the countryside, they abided in peace and quietness, so that many lived to hand down these tales to their children and their children's children. A certain one saith, that upon a stone at Kirkleys, is an old inscription. This I gave in the ancient English in which it was written, and thus it runs. Here, underneath this little stain, lies Robert Earl of Huntington, ne a archer ver as he say good, and people called him Robin Hood, sick outlaws as he and his men, well England, ne dir see again. Hobbit, 24 Cal, Dec. 1247. And now, dear friend, we also must part, for our merry journeys have ended, and here at the grave of Robin Hood we turn, each going his own way, end of the epilogue. End of the merry adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle. Read by Alex Foster www.alexfoster.me.uk on the 16th of March, 2006 in Sherwood, Nottinghamshire.