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 bridle rein, stooped and picked them up.  Then he said, “Sweet friend, I am used to ask those that I have dealings 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 be those in Sherwood that would not be so gentle with thee as I have been.  The name of Corn Engrosser 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 mayhap some day thou mayst of a sudden find a clothyard shaft betwixt 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 wot, 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 sat 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 Stutely, “I hold with our master, that he hath had the pleasanter doings of the two, for he hath had two stout bouts at quarterstaff 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.

Robin Hood Shoots Before Queen Eleanor

THE HIGHROAD stretched white and dusty in the hot summer afternoon sun, and the trees stood motionless along the roadside.  All across the meadow lands 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 passed stopped and turned and looked after him, for never had so lovely a lad or one so gaily clad been seen in Nottingham 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.