ands, 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.  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?  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?  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.  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.  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.  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 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.'  "'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.  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.  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.  To thee, he said, Belongeth the second prize, to it, five score of the finest hearts that run on Dallin Lee.  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.  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.  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.  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.  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.  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.  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.  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.  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.  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.  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.  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.  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.  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!  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.  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.   Then out spake little John for the first time since he had fallen into the sheriff's hands.  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.  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?  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