Had I gone forth on an
innocenterrand, I had met a dozen stout
priests or a score of pursy money-lenders. But it is ever thus:
the dun deer are never so
scarce as when one has a gray goose
feather nipped betwixt the fingers. Come, lads, let us pack up
and home again, say I."
Accordingly, the others arose, and, coming forth from out the thicket,
they all turned their toes back again to Sherwood. After they had gone
some distance, Will Stutely, who headed the party, suddenly stopped.
"Hist!" quoth he, for his ears were as sharp as those of a five-year-old fox.
"Hark, lads! Methinks I hear a sound." At this all stopped and listened
with bated
breath,
albeit for a time they could hear nothing, their ears being
duller than Stutely's. At length they heard a faint and
melancholy sound,
like someone in lamentation.
"Ha!" quoth Will Scarlet, "this must be looked into.
There is someone in
distress nigh to us here."
"I know not," quoth Will Stutely, shaking his head doubtfully,
"our master is ever rash about thrusting his finger into a boiling pot;
but, for my part, I see no use in getting ourselves into
mischievous coils.
Yon is a man's voice, if I mistake not, and a man should be always ready
to get himself out from his own pothers."
Then out spake Will Scarlet
boldly. "Now out upon thee,
to talk in that manner, Stutely! Stay, if thou dost list.
I go to see what may be the trouble of this poor creature."
"Nay," quoth Stutely, "thou dost leap so quickly, thou'lt tumble into
the ditch. Who said I would not go? Come along, say I." Thus
saying,
he led the way, the others following, till, after they had gone
a short distance, they came to a little
opening in the woodland,
whence a brook, after gurgling out from under the
tangle of
overhanging bushes, spread out into a broad and glassy-pebbled pool.
By the side of this pool, and beneath the branches of a
willow, lay a
youth upon his face,
weeping aloud, the sound of which had first caught
the quick ears of Stutely. His golden locks were
tangled, his clothes
were all awry, and everything about him betokened sorrow and woe.
Over his head, from the branches of the osier, hung a beautiful harp
of polished wood inlaid with gold and silver in
fantastic devices.
Beside him lay a stout ashen bow and half a score of fair, smooth arrows.
"Halloa!" shouted Will Stutely, when they had come out from the forest
into the little open spot. "Who art thou, fellow, that liest there
killing all the green grass with salt water?"
Hearing the voice, the stranger
sprang to his feet and;
snatching up his bow and
fitting a shaft, held himself in readiness
for
whatever ill might
befall him.
"Truly," said one of the yeomen, when they had seen the young
stranger's face, "I do know that lad right well. He is a certain
minstrel that I have seen hereabouts more than once. It was only
a week ago I saw him skipping across the hill like a yearling doe.
A fine sight he was then, with a flower at his ear and a cock's
plume stuck in his cap; but now,
methinks, our cockerel is shorn
of his gay feathers."
"Pah!" cried Will Stutely, coming up to the stranger,
"wipe thine eyes, man! I do hate to see a tall, stout fellow
so sniveling like a girl of fourteen over a dead tomtit.
Put down thy bow, man! We mean thee no harm."
But Will Scarlet,
seeing how the stranger, who had a young
and
boyish look, was stung by the words that Stutely had
spoken,
came to him and put his hand upon the youth's shoulder.
"Nay, thou art in trouble, poor boy!" said he kindly.
"Mind not what these fellows have said. They are rough, but they
mean thee well. Mayhap they do not understand a lad like thee.
Thou shalt come with us, and
perchance we may find a certain one
that can aid thee in thy perplexities,
whatsoever they may be."
"Yea, truly, come along," said Will Stutely gruffly.
"I meant thee no harm, and may mean thee some good.
Take down thy singing tool from off this fair tree,
and away with us."
The youth did as he was bidden and, with bowed head and
sorrowful step,
accompanied the others, walking beside Will Scarlet. So they
wended their way through the forest. The bright light faded
from the sky and a glimmering gray fell over all things.
From the deeper recesses of the forest the strange whispering
sounds of night-time came to the ear; all else was silent,
saving only for the rattling of their footsteps amid the crisp,
dry leaves of the last winter. At last a ruddy glow shone
before them here and there through the trees; a little farther
and they came to the open glade, now bathed in the pale
moonlight.