Then came a bustle and a noise, and one strove to push between the men-at-arms so as to reach the cart, and Stutely saw that it was Little John that made all that stir.

“Now stand thou back!” cried one of the men-at-arms whom Little John pushed with his elbows.

“Now stand thou back thine own self,” quoth Little John, and straightway smote the man a buffet beside his head that felled him as a butcher fells an ox, and then he leaped to the cart where Stutely sat.

“I pray thee take leave of thy friends ere thou diest, Will,” quoth he, “or maybe I will die with thee if thou must die, for I could never have better company.”  Then with one stroke he cut the bonds that bound the other’s arms and legs, and Stutely leaped straightway from the cart.

“Now as I live,” cried the Sheriff, “yon varlet I know right well is a sturdy rebel!  Take him, I bid you all, and let him not go!”

So saying, he spurred his horse upon Little John, and rising in his stirrups smote with might and main, but Little John ducked quickly underneath the horse’s belly and the blow whistled harmlessly over his head.

“Nay, good Sir Sheriff,” cried he, leaping up again when the blow had passed, “I must e’en borrow thy most worshipful sword.”  Thereupon he twitched the weapon deftly from out the Sheriff’s hand, “Here, Stutely,” he cried, “the Sheriff hath lent thee his sword!  Back to back with me, man, and defend thyself, for help is nigh!”

“Down with them!” bellowed the Sheriff in a voice like an angry bull; and he spurred his horse upon the two who now stood back to back, forgetting in his rage that he had no weapon with which to defend himself.

“Stand back, Sheriff!” cried Little John; and even as he spoke, a bugle horn sounded shrilly and a clothyard shaft whistled within an inch of the Sheriff’s head.  Then came a swaying hither and thither, and oaths, cries, and groans, and clashing of steel, and swords flashed in the setting sun, and a score of arrows whistled through the air.  And some cried, “Help, help!” and some, “A rescue, a rescue!”

“Treason!” cried the Sheriff in a loud voice.  “Bear back!  Bear back!  Else we be all dead men!” Thereupon he reined his horse backward through the thickest of the crowd.

Now Robin Hood and his band might have slain half of the Sheriff’s men had they desired to do so, but they let them push out of the press and get them gone, only sending a bunch of arrows after them to hurry them in their flight.

“Oh stay!” shouted Will Stutely after the Sheriff.  “Thou wilt never catch bold Robin Hood if thou dost not stand to meet him face to face.”  But the Sheriff, bowing along his horse’s back, made no answer but only spurred the faster.

Then Will Stutely turned to Little John and looked him in the face till the tears ran down from his eyes and he wept aloud; and kissing his friend’s cheeks, “O Little John!” quoth he, “mine own true friend, and he that I love better than man or woman in all the world beside!  Little did I reckon to see thy face this day, or to meet thee this side Paradise.”  Little John could make no answer, but wept also.