sound at home in Emmet Priory.  “Now,” quoth Robin to himself, “I wonder how this thing hath dropped into my bed during the night.”  So saying, he arose softly, so as not to waken the other, and looking about the room he espied the friar’s clothes lying upon a bench near the wall.  First he looked at the clothes, with his head on one side, and then he looked at the friar and slowly winked one eye.  Quoth he, “Good Brother What-e’er-thy-name-may-be, as thou hast borrowed my bed so freely I’ll e’en borrow thy clothes in return.”  So saying, he straightway donned the holy man’s garb, 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 friars of Emmet were not wont to be early risers; but the man bottled his thoughts, and only asked Robin whether he wanted his mule brought from the stable.

“Yea, my son,” quoth Robin—­albeit he knew nought of the mule—­“and bring it forth quickly, I prythee, for I am late and must be jogging.”  So presently the stableman brought forth the mule, and Robin mounted it and went on his way rejoicing.

As for the holy friar, 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 nought was left but patched clothes and a leathern 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 Emmet Priory that very morning upon 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 vengeance against all the cobblers in Derbyshire, he set forth upon his way afoot; 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 Hereford.  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 merry 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