through highway and byway, through villages where goodwives and merry
lasses peeped through the casements at the fine show of young men,

until at last they came over beyond Alverton in Derbyshire. By this
time high noontide had come, yet they had met no guest such as was

worth their while to take back to Sherwood; so, coming at last to
a certain spot where a shrine stood at the crossing of two roads,

Robin called upon them to stop, for here on either side was shelter
of high hedgerows, behind which was good hiding, whence they could

watch the roads at their ease, while they ate their midday meal.
Quoth merry Robin, "Here, methinks, is good lodging, where peaceful folk,

such as we be, can eat in quietness; therefore we will rest here,
and see what may, perchance, fall into our luck-pot." So they crossed

a stile and came behind a hedgerow where the mellowsunlight was bright
and warm, and where the grass was soft, and there sat them down.

Then each man drew from the pouch that hung beside him that
which he had brought to eat, for a merry walk such as this had

been sharpens the appetite till it is as keen as a March wind.
So no more words were spoken, but each man saved his teeth for better use--

munching at brown crust and cold meat right lustily.
In front of them, one of the highroads crawled up the steep hill

and then dipped suddenly over its crest, sharp-cut with hedgerow
and shaggy grass against the sky. Over the top of the windy hill

peeped the eaves of a few houses of the village that fell back
into the valley behind; there, also, showed the top of a windmill,

the sails slowly rising and dipping from behind the hill against
the clear blue sky, as the light wind moved them with creaking

and labored swing.
So the yeomen lay behind the hedge and finished their midday meal;

but still the time slipped along and no one came. At last,
a man came slowly riding over the hill and down the stony

road toward the spot where Robin and his band lay hidden.
He was a good stout knight, but sorrowful of face and downcast

of mien. His clothes were plain and rich, but no chain of gold,
such as folk of his stand in life wore at most times,

hung around his neck, and no jewel was about him; yet no one
could mistake him for aught but one of proud and noble blood.

His head was bowed upon his breast and his hands drooped limp
on either side; and so he came slowly riding, as though sunk

in sad thoughts, while even his good horse, the reins loose
upon his neck, walked with hanging head, as though he shared

his master's grief.
Quoth Robin Hood, "Yon is verily a sorry-looking gallant,

and doth seem to have donned ill-content with his jerkin
this morning; nevertheless, I will out and talk with him,

for there may be some pickings here for a hungry daw.
Methinks his dress is rich, though he himself is so downcast.

Bide ye here till I look into this matter." So saying,
he arose and left them, crossed the road to the shrine,

and there stood, waiting for the sorrowfulknight to come near him.
So, presently, when the knight came riding slowly along,

jolly Robin stepped forward and laid his hand upon the bridle rein.
"Hold, Sir Knight," quoth he. "I prythee tarry for a short time,

for I have a few words to say to thee."
"What art thou, friend, who dost stop a traveler in this manner

upon his most gracious Majesty's highway?" said the Knight.
"Marry," quoth Robin, "that is a question hard to answer.

One man calleth me kind, another calleth me cruel; this one
calleth me good honest fellow, and that one, vile thief.

Truly, the world hath as many eyes to look upon a man withal
as there are spots on a toad; so, with what pair of eyes

thou regardest me lieth entirely with thine own self.
My name is Robin Hood."

"Truly, good Robin," said the Knight, a smile twitching
at the corners of his mouth, "thou hast a quaint conceit.

As for the pair of eyes with which I regard thee, I would say
that they are as favorable as may be, for I hear much good

of thee and little ill. What is thy will of me?"
"Now, I make my vow, Sir Knight," quoth Robin, "thou hast surely learned

thy wisdom of good Gaffer Swanthold, for he sayeth, `Fair words are
as easy spoke as foul, and bring good will in the stead of blows.'

Now I will show thee the truth of this saying; for, if thou wilt go
with me this day to Sherwood Forest, I will give thee as merry a feast

as ever thou hadst in all thy life."
"Thou art indeed kind," said the Knight, "but methinks

thou wilt find me but an ill-seeming and sorrowful guest.
Thou hadst best let me pass on my way in peace."

"Nay," quoth Robin, "thou mightst go thine own way but for one thing,
and that I will tell thee. We keep an inn, as it were,

in the very depths of Sherwood, but so far from highroads and beaten
paths that guests do not often come nigh us; so I and my friends

set off merrily and seek them when we grow dull of ourselves.
Thus the matter stands, Sir Knight; yet I will furthermore tell

thee that we count upon our guests paying a reckoning."
"I take thy meaning, friend," said the Knight gravely, "but I am not thy man,

for I have no money by me."
"Is it sooth?" said Robin, looking at the Knight keenly. "I can scarce

choose but believe thee; yet, Sir Knight, there be those of thy order whose
word is not to be trusted as much as they would have others believe.

Thou wilt think no ill if I look for myself in this matter."
Then, still holding the horse by the bridle rein, he put his fingers

to his lips and blew a shrillwhistle, whereuponfourscore yeomen came
leaping over the stile and ran to where the Knight and Robin stood.

"These," said Robin, looking upon them proudly, "are some of my merry men.
They share and share alike with me all joys and troubles, gains and losses.

Sir Knight, I prythee tell me what money thou hast about thee."
For a time the Knight said not a word, but a slow red arose into his cheeks;

at last he looked Robin in the face and said, "I know not why I should
be ashamed, for it should be no shame to me; but, friend, I tell thee

the truth, when I say that in my purse are ten shillings, and that that is
every groat that Sir Richard of the Lea hath in all the wide world."

When Sir Richard ended a silence fell, until at last Robin said,
"And dost thou pledge me thy knightly word that this is all thou

hast with thee?"
"Yea," answered Sir Richard, "I do pledge thee my most solemn word,

as a true knight, that it is all the money I have in the world.
Nay, here is my purse, ye may find for yourselves the truth of what I say."

And he held his purse out to Robin.
"Put up thy purse, Sir Richard," quoth Robin. "Far be it from me

to doubt the word of so gentle a knight. The proud I strive to
bring low, but those that walk in sorrow I would aid if I could.

Come, Sir Richard, cheer up thy heart and go with us into the greenwood.
Even I may perchance aid thee, for thou surely knowest how the good

Athelstane was saved by the little blind mole that digged a trench
over which he that sought the king's life stumbled."

"Truly, friend," said Sir Richard, "methinks thou meanest kindness
in thine own way; nevertheless my troubles are such that it is

not likely that thou canst cure them. But I will go with thee
this day into Sherwood." Hereupon he turned his horse's head,

and they all wended their way to the woodlands, Robin walking
on one side of the Knight and Will Scarlet on the other,

while the rest of the band trudged behind.
After they had traveled thus for a time Robin Hood spake.

"Sir Knight," said he, "I would not trouble thee with idle questions;
but dost thou find it in thy heart to tell me thy sorrows?"

"Truly, Robin," quoth the Knight, "I see no reason why I should not do so.
Thus it is: My castle and my lands are in pawn for a debt that I owe.