Robin Hood and Maid Marian

Robin Hood and Maid Marian 1
Robin Hood and Maid Marian

William Murray Graydon
The Pluck Library
(1914)
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PART ONE
I Robin Hood in His Castle
II The Sheriff of Nottingham Arrives to Arrest Robin Hood
III Robin Hood Defies the Sheriff

William Murray Graydon 2
IV The Siege
V Robin Hood Takes to the Forest
PART TWO
VI
VII Allan-a-Dale Speaks His Mind, But is Powerless
VIII Allan-a-Dale's Meeting with Robin Hood's Band
IX How Allan-a-Dale Joined Robin Hood's Band
X How Maid Marian Entered Hardfast's Castle
XI Robin Hood to the Rescue
XII At the Church
PART THREE
XIII Lanfrey Gaveston forms a Plot for the Capture of Robin Hood
XIV Robin Hood Decides to go to the Tournament
XV The Mysterious Archer
XVI Simon Lancaster's Story
XVII The Capture of Robin Hood
XVIII How the Band Received the News of their Leader's Capture
PART FOUR
XIX Robin is Liberated
XX Robin Hood's Triumphant Return to His Camp
XXI The Sheriff of Nottingham Goes to King Richard
XXII "Father Anselmo" of the Abbey of St. Benet's in Norfolk
XXIII Conclusion
ROBIN HOOD AND MAID MARIAN.
The opening Instalment of a SPLENDID SERIAL STORY founded on the

Magnificent Thanhouser Film. Now showing all over the United Kingdom.
THE CAST
ROBIN HOOD, the Chief of the Rovers
HARDFAST, a Saxon Baron
MAID MARIAN, the Daughter of a Minstrel
HELEN, his Daughter Hunchback
FRIAR TUCK
FITZURSE, a Norman Baron
ALLAN-A-DALE
THE SHERIFF OF NOTTINGHAM
KING RICHARD THE LION-HEARTED
PART ONE.
Robin Hood in His Castle
The loud, clear blast of a horn, blown with no mean strength of lungs,
startled the nesting birds in Sherwood Forest and made the welkin ring.
Silence fell for a second or two, and then there came to the ears of him who
had blown, from a distance, an answering signal that was fainter and more
silvery-toned than his own.
Again, and yet again, the sounds floated on the summer air. They attracted
the attention of Lanfrey Gaveston, the Sheriff of Nottingham, who was
abroad that morning on the King's business. And as he stood listening, by a
tree to which he had just affixed a proclamation, his features darkened to a
scowl.
"No doubt 'tis that insolent knave Hood," he muttered, "and one of the louts
with whom he consorts. I have long suspected the fellow of unlawful
practices. One of these days I shall lay him by the heels, and then it will go
hard with him. As for this notice, methinks it is more likely to stir him to
mockery than to a sense of prudence, so daring and presumptuous is the
rogue. We shall see. He will have no excuse for pleading that he has not
been warned, at all events!"
Robin Hood, the impoverished young gentleman who kept what state he
could afford in the castle that was his home, was striding through the
greenwood. And Maid Marian, the lovely daughter of the old minstrel, was
approaching to meet him. Three more blasts the man gave, and not one of
them evoked a response. He came on slowly, vexed and puzzled, peering
into the foliage. Again he raised the horn that hung at his side, and lowered
it at the sound of merry laughter. And with that the thickets were parted,
and the girl appeared to her lover, who chided her in jest as he gallantly
kissed her hand.
"So it pleases you to make a sport of me," he said. "You would have had
me believe that you had turned back!"
Maid Marian laughed again; but the roguery faded from her face, and a
wave of colour flushed it, as Robin Hood gently took her in his arms. He
whispered to her, and the flush deepened on her cheeks. For a time they
were so still, so silent that birds alighted on the boughs above their heads.
A handsome couple they were, and pledged to each other by vows of
eternal constancy, despite the barrier of birth. As dark as a woodland pool
were the girl's eyes, and as black and glossy as a raven was her hair; while
the man was tall; slim and fair, with blue eyes that could flash with anger,
or melt with tenderness that was more eloquent than words.
"It is strange that you should care so much for me," murmured Maid
Marian, with a sigh.
"Nay, not so," Robin Hood answered. "There is not in the length and
breadth of the King's realm one with half your charms!"
"But you are well born, and I am the daughter of a wandering minstrel who
harps in the halls of the gentry!"
"You are fitted to be a queen, Marian, and my queen you are! As for my
birth, and my castle, I cannot properly support either with an empty purse,
nor would I if I could. I am of the mind, in very truth, to dwell in the
greenwood after we are married, and I would have you tell me when that is
to be!"
"I do not know, Robin. My father needs me."
"He shall have us both. There will always be bite and sup for him, and a
warm corner by my fireside. And my friends will be his friends, else will
they cease to be mine. But come, sweet mistress. The sun is shining, and
the birds do sing. Why tarry here when pleasanter spots invite?"
"I go where you bid," Maid Marian whispered.
And she glanced coyly at her lover, who shifted his bow and quiver from
one shoulder to the other, and slipped his arm around the girl's waist.
Slowly, too happy for speech, they strolled through the forest: by familiar
paths, not caring whither they went. Finally they came to a wide-girthed
trees, to which was nailed a sheet of parchment; and when Robin Hood, had
read what was written thereon, and had noted the name at the bottom, and
the dangling seals, his brow clouded, and a wrathful gleam flashed to his
eyes.
"What's this?" he exclaimed. "A Royal proclamation! It is forbidden under

heavy penalties to kill the King's red-deer in Sherwood Forest! All are
hereby warned by the Sheriff of Nottingham! In faith, I like this varlet's
impudence!"
"Impudent he may be," Maid Marian replied, "yet he is but the mouthpiece
of King Richard in this matter! As for the slaying of the deer, that has
always been forbidden in the forest!"
"And a most foolish and tyrannical law it is! Are the poor to starve, and the
gentry to forego their sport and a taste of venison, because of a mere whim
on the part of his Majesty? I have done as I pleased where the red-deer are
concerned, and I always shall. The sheriff has known, and heretofore he has
paid little or no heed to me. But now, perhaps because he feels that 'tis time
he asserted his dignity, he offers me an insult by displaying this notice in
the greenwood. Little do I care for him, as I will show him if he takes the
trouble to spy upon my doings!"
"Best had you be careful, Robin. Remember that he has many armed
retainers who are sworn to do his bidding. Moreover, he has a bitter hatred
of you!"
"In very truth he has. Thou art right, Marian. Ay, that scurvy fellow
Gaveston would dearly love to throw me into his dungeon. But be sure that
I will give him no opportunity of ----"
Robin Hood paused abruptly, and listened to a low, pattering noise that had
floated to his ears. The girl had also heard it, and as the two peered over the
thickets into an open glade that was in front of them, there trotted into view
a herd of deer.
The King's proclamation was forgotten. Maid Marian was as thrilled by this
chance of sport as was Robin, who whipped his bow and quiver from his
shoulder. He fitted an arrow, and measured his aim with the keen eye for
which he was noted in Nottinghamshire. "Twang! went the bow-string, and
the feathered dart, speeding swift and true, buried itself in the flank of a
noble buck.
"Bravo!" cried the girl. " fine shot!"
"'Twas not bad," assented Robin Hood; his face flushing with pride.
"But the animal falls not. Plant another arrow. Be quick, or you will lose
it!"
"Nay, let us give chase to it. We shall have it in the end. Come, fair
mistress!"
The herd had passed from sight, and with them the wounded deer, which
was lagging a little behind. Side by side, laughing as they ran, Maid Marian
and her lover sped in pursuit, dragging through brake and copse, and
winding amongst the trees.
Gradually they gained on the stricken buck, and at length, in pity for it,
Robin Hood brought it dead to the ground by in arrow that penetrated to a
vital part. He hastened to the spot, and cheered loudly as he waved his cap.
The girl dapped her hands with joy, and the next instant her mood changed.
"Poor creature!" she said, in a wistful tone. "It seems a pity to have slain it!
How cruel we are!"
"'Twas not cruel sport," declared Robin Hood. "My larder was nearly
empty, and I have hungry mouths to feed. It is no easy task to satisfy them,
forsooth. As for Friar Tuck, my jolly fat monk, he eats enough for two
men!"
"A comical fellow he is indeed, and kind of heart. But hurry home, Robin,
lest the friar loses some of his plumpness from waiting."
"It will do him no harm to fast a while. Home I will go, but not alone. You
shall go with me, and I will send forth Dickon to summon your father to
join us. We will have a right Royal feast this day, and there is wine in
plenty to wash the venison down with!"
"The castle is no place for me. I feel ill at ease under your roof, good
Robin!"
"Nay, how could you? Are you not to reign there as queen after we are
married? Come, now, my sweet Marian! But first lend me a hand with this
noble animal."
As Robin Hood spoke he raised the buck, and when the girl had helped him
to hoist it upon his back they set off towards the stately dwelling that was
situated on the borders of the forest.
Presently, as they were moving along an open path, they were perceived by
the Sheriff of Nottingham, who was lurking behind the trunk of a tree. He
had been waiting here for a time, his suspicions having been roused by a
glimpse of the frightened herd of deer, and by the voices of the pursuers.
He was a good hater, and for years past many a grudge against Robin Hood
had rankled in his mind. His eyes blazed with evil triumph. He ground his
teeth, and shook his clenched fists.
"By my halidom, can insolence go farther?" he muttered. "Under my very

nose, in spite of the King's proclamation, that scurvy rogue has dared to kill
a deer. Too long has he flouted my authority, and there must be an end of it
now. He is on his way to the castle, where doubtless he will feast on
venison with his boisterous crew. I will there take him into custody, and
this night he shall lie in my dungeon, loaded with chains. Ay, he shall
bitterly rue his unlawful deed."
Robin Hood and his sweetheart had passed from the sight of Lanfrey
Gaveston, who uttered a sinister laugh as he left his hiding-place, and bent
his steps in the direction of the town of Nottingham.
The Sheriff of Nottingham Arrives to Arrest Robin Hood
No shadow marred the festivities at Robin Hood's ancestral home that day.
No one spared a thought for the Sheriff of Nottingham. The buck had been
put upon a spit and roasted, and it was the middle of the afternoon when the
feast began. In the grassy quadrangle of the castle, where the sun was
shining brightly, a merry company sat down to a long table. Old Mordaunt
the minstrel was there, and his pretty daughter Marian, and jolly Friar Tuck.
There were other comely and vivacious, girls, and the rest of the party were
friends and retainers of the host, to whom they were so devoted that they
would have followed anywhere at his bidding.
Robin Hood knew that he could depend on them, and he had foreseen that a
time might come when he would be compelled to lead them forth to a free
life in the forest, or be thrust into prison for his disregard of the King's law.
Loud and clear rang his laughter as the juicy meat was devoured, and
bumpers of sack were emptied.
At length he rose, lifting high a silver goblet, and proposed the health of
Maid Marian. But ere the toast could be drunk, Dickon, one of the faithful
servants, appeared in a state of agitation.
"The Sheriff of Nottingham is without, master," he announced, "and he

would have speech with you. I mistrust his errand, for he has brought an
armed force with him."
Consternation fell on the assemblage, and all sprang to their feet save the
fat monk, who had eaten so much that he had not the energy to rise.
"Oh, Robin, he has come to arrest you!" cried the girl. "He must have
learned of the killing of the deer this morning!"
"This is a sad business," said old Mordaunt, wagging his grey beard. "What
is to be done?"
"It were best to be friendly with him," urged Friar Tuck. "Let us invite him
to the feast. These rich foods and golden wines may tickle his palate, and
cause him to forget all else."
"Nay; I'll offer no friendship to my enemy, which he has foolishly chosen

to be," vowed Robin Hood. "I shall go out to him, and give him plain talk!"
"Don't -- oh, don't! pleaded Maid Marian, tears starting in her eyes. "I will
never see you again!"
"Be not afraid, sweet mistress. I will say what is in my mind to Lanfrey
Gaveston, and when I have finished, I will come back. Be sure of that!"
"No, no, Robin! For my sake do not----"
The girl's appeal was drowned by other protesting voices. All gathered
around Robin Hood, and begged him to run no risk. But he was deaf to
their advice. He shook his head, and laughed in scorn.
"I will come back," he repeated, "after I have spoken with the fellow. It
would be cowardly of me to deny him an audience."
And with that off he went as bold as a lion, yet with no intention of risking
his liberty. Having passed from the court into a wing of the castle, a sound
of heavy rapping drew him along a corridor to a small door that was of
massive wood, studded with iron. He unbarred and opened it, and peered
from within at the Sheriff of Nottingham, who was standing without. In his
hand was a parchment document with seals attached, and at a little distance
behind him his armed men were grouped.
Robin Hood Defies the Sheriff

"Why have I been kept waiting, knave?" he demanded, in a voice that

rasped like a file. "Had you not word that I was here?"
"I am entertaining guests," Robin Hood answered pleasantly, "and I could

not leave them at once."
"They will have to entertain themselves. I have business with you that will
take you from home."
"It is business that is to my liking, I trust. I perceive that you have there a
document with the King's seal. Has he done me the honour to summon me
to Court?"
"Nay, impudent fellow! This is a summons for you to dwell in my dungeon,

which has long been ready for you. Know that I, by virtue of the royal,
authority vested in me, do hereby apprehend you in custody for killing,
contrary to law, one of his Majesty's red-deer in the Forest of Sherwood."
"I bid you begone!" said Robin Hood, with a contemptuous smile. "That is
my answer."
"You will suffer the more for your insolence, you rogue. When you lie in
my dungeon, loaded with chains, I will----"
"A plague on your dungeon! I am not there yet, and not you nor your men
can put me there! I am a loyal subject of the King, and if his Majesty will
pay me a visit, I will talk with him concerning the killing of the deer, which
I do not regard as being unlawful. But your authority I flout, Lanfrey
Gaveston. I will have none of it. I defy you!"
With that Robin Hood slammed the door shut in the sheriff's very face, and
quickly barred and bolted it. And with, an angry clamour ringing in his
ears, and the stout timbers, quivering to a rain of blows, he returned to the
quadrangle, and told his friends and retainers of the result of the interview.
Loudly they applauded his courage, and with one accord, waving their
caps, they declared that they would fight for him to the death. But Maid
Marian was sorely distressed, and she clung to her lover, and looked sadly
up at him, when he drew her aside.
"I am afraid," she said, in a tremulous voice. "It would break my heart if
you were to be taken from me!"
"Have no fear," Robin Hood replied. "We will hold out as long as we can,
and if it comes to the worst, we will flee to the forest, and there dwell in
safety. It will be a free life, fair mistress, and a merry one. We shall be
outlawed," he added, his face clouding as he spoke, "and every man's hand
will be against us. But the blame will lie at the door of that varlet Gaveston,
who is using the law for his own ends. He would scarcely have troubled
about the killing of a deer or two were it not that he has a bitter grudge
against me."
The Siege
While Robin Hood was talking to the girl, the pounding on the small door
ceased. It could not easily have been forced, and the main entrance was no
less strong. The King's official had not departed, however, nor was he in
the mind to do so yet. A servant who had been hastily sent to the top of the
building shouted that the sheriff and his men had withdrawn to a short
distance, and when he announced soon afterwards that they were
advancing, Robin Hood led his friends and retainers into the castle, and
posted some at embrasures, others behind the battlements.
For some minutes a fight was waged with cross-bows and arrows, to the
accompaniment of a shrill clamour. Several of the enemy were hit, but their
bolts did no damage. They soon withdrew again, carrying the wounded
with them, and bawling angry threats; and now, judging that the siege
would be raised, Robin Hood and his party went back to the courtyard to
their interrupted feast, leaving sentries on the watch above.
There was some show of merriment again, though it was realised that
Lanfrey Gaveston would in the end employ all the forces he could
command for the reduction of the castle. Friar Tuck's plump face beamed as
he sat down to the table, and filled a cup with sack.
"Let us enjoy the good things of life while we may," he said, patting his
stomach. "We shall fight the better for it. Meat strengthens the body, and
wine gives courage. Look not so sad, Marian. Thou art truly doleful. And as
for your father, I can read his thoughts. He is wishing, I'll warrant, that he
could handle a quarterstaff as readily as he can tune a harp."
"Ay, that very thing is in my mind," the aged minstrel replied, as he stroked
his beard. "But for the infirmity of my years I would gladly strike a blow
for Robin Hood, who has been such a good friend to me and to my
daughter. He is in the right in this affair. The red-deer were put in the forest
to provide food for those who have not gold to spend, and it is a shameful
thing that the authority of our good King Richard should be misused by this
pompous fellow who rules with a rod of iron in our fair county of ----"
There was a warning shout from one of the sentries on the top of the castle,
and what it meant was quickly apparent. The sheriff's men had let fly, at an
upward slant, a shower of arrows that soared above and over the
battlements. They curved gracefully high in air, and descended into the
quadrangle. There was no time for flight or shelter. One of the barbed
missiles grazed the tonsured head of the monk, and another penetrated
deeply into the breast of old Mordaunt, who started convulsively to his feet,
and pitched heavily across the table. Robin Hood lifted him by the
shoulders, and Maid Marian bent over him in horror, and burst into tears.
"My father!" she sobbed. "Oh, my poor father! Save him! Do not let him
die!"
She turned to her lover, who shook his head. Nothing could be done for the
aged minstrel. The arrow was planted between his ribs, and crimson drops
were trickling from the wound. His cheeks were of the hue of ashes, and
there was a glassy look in his eyes as they rested on his daughter.
"Grieve not for me, child," he gasped, as he writhed in pain. "I am full of
years, and this will be a happy release. I do not leave you to the mercies of
the cruel world. You will have a protector. Care for her always, Robin.
Shield her from harm, and be tender and true to her. I am going fast. I trust
my orphan, girl to you, my friend. Promise me that -- that -- you will ----"
They were old Mordaunt's last words. For a moment he fought for his
breath, and then his eyelids dropped, and he lay quite still amidst the litter
of the banqueting-table. Friar Tuck clasped his hands, and reverently
murmured a prayer, and Maid Marian, weeping bitterly, flung herself
across the corpse of her father, and clung to him in anguish.
"He is dead, dead!" she moaned. "He has gone from me! I am alone in the
world!"
It would have been useless to seek to comfort the poor girl, nor did Robin
Hood strive to. His face was cold and stern, and there was a gleam of wrath
in his eyes. He bade some of his party hasten to the embrasures, and then,
with a word of sympathy to Maid Marian, he strode into the castle and
sought his bedchamber, where he wrote a line on a piece of parchment.
With this tucked into his doublet he ascended quickly to the battlements,
and gazed down at the sheriff and his retainers, who were scattered about
the grassy lawn in front of the building.
"Ah, yonder is the knave, the Sheriff of Nottingham cried!" as he perceived

the figure of the man he hated. "Let fly at him!"
Bolts from cross-bows hurtled close to Robin Hood, but he paid no heed to
them. Calmly, with steady fingers, he folded the parchment and secured it
to the shaft of one of his arrows.
"The varlet deserves death, and no less," he muttered, through his set teeth.
"But I'll give him the one chance! Just one!"
He curved his bow, and with unerring aim sent the missile speeding on its
way. The next instant the sheriff's cap was whipped from his head, pierced
by the arrow. It was picked up by one of his men, and brought to him; and
when he had stared at the parchment that was fixed to the feathered dart he
opened it curiously, and read, the brief message that was written on it:
"My next arrow will be for your heart."
The warning was enough for Lanfrey Gaveston, who turned very white.
After such an exhibition of skill on Robin Hood's part he dared not tarry in
the open any longer, lest the threat should be fulfilled. He gathered his
retainers around him, and spoke a few words; and then, in hot haste, the
whole band scurried over the lawn to the edge of the forest. The sheriff
paused there, and shook his fist.
"I will come back, you insolent rogue!" he shouted. "I will come with a
larger force, and do the King's bidding! I'll have you in my dungeon ere
another day has gone by!"
He plunged into the green cover, and disappeared. And Robin Hood, with a
scornful shrug of the shoulders, went sadly down from the roof, and
returned to the quadrangle. Maid Marian was still crouching by the body of
her father, weeping as if her heart would break. She looked with streaming
eyes at her lover, who slipped his arm around her waist, and gently drew
her away.
"I share your grief," he said, as he kissed her quivering lips. "You have lost
a parent, and I, a dear friend. But, take comfort, sweet mistress. Time-will
heal your sorrow, and you will always have me to protect and care for you."
The girl could not speak. She sobbed on Robin Hood's breast, and tears
dimmed his own eyes as he stroked her hair.
On the following morning, a couple of hours after sunrise, the blast of a

horn awoke the echoes in Sherwood Forest, and gave warning of the
approach of the Sheriff of Nottingham. He had been expected, and the
garrison was ready. Lanfrey Gavestone had kept his word. When he
emerged in the open, flaunting the warrant of arrest as a sign of his
authority, he had nearly three-score of men-at-arms at his back. Friar Tuck
nodded gravely as he watched from a window-slit.
"'Tis a goodly muster," he murmured.
"Ay, in very truth," Robin Hood assented. "I fear they will be too many for
us."
There was but a brief parley. The surrender of the slayer of the King's deer
having been demanded, and refused in defiant terms, the sheriff's party
advanced at a trot. Several of them were laid low, crippled by arrows; but
the rest pushed on to the main entrance of the castle, where a projection
over the doorway afforded them some shelter, though not enough to screen
them all. They were more courageous than on the previous day, however.
Even Lanfrey Gaveston, in his desire to capture Robin Hood, risked life
and limb. He moved here and there amongst his followers, urging them to
valour.
"Ten pieces of gold to the man who is first inside!" he told them at frequent
intervals.
The morning wore on. Again and again the foe were dislodged, but each
time they returned to the attack, and with heavy missiles rained blows upon
the door, which was almost as stout and massive as a wall of granite. But
gradually it was weakened. By noon the timbers showed several cracks, and
the hinges were starting from their fastenings. It would probably have
yielded to another assault, but the sheriff and his men did not know how
near they were to success. They withdrew to the edge of the greenwood, to
refresh themselves with food and drink, after their exertions; and the lull
was welcome to the besieged, who gathered in groups, and discussed the
situation in low and anxious tones.
Robin Hood Takes to the Forest
The besieged company in the castle realised what the end must be, and their
hearts went out in sympathy to Robin Hood. He stood apart from the others,
with a gloomy countenance, refusing to accompany Friar Tuck to the
buttery for a stoup of brown ale. In vain Little John and Will Scarlett, two
of his best friends, tried to raise his spirits. He turned from them, and sat
down on a bench; and there Maid Marian presently seated herself by his
side, and put her hand on his arm.
"Let me comfort you," she whispered.
"Even you cannot do that," Robin Hood replied, shaking his head.
"Does my love count for nothing?"
"It is the greatest treasure I possess, dear Marian. Yet at this time I have
much else to think of."
"I understand. You are loth to depart."
"Ay, more loth than I can tell you."
"I am sorry for you, Robin, so sorry. But what must be must be. And we
should not wait too long."
The girl referred to what was known to all in the building. There was a
subterranean passage, constructed many years ago, which led from the
cellars to a spot in the forest that was half a mile distant. And by this
means, it had already been decided, the women were at the last to make
their escape while the men engaged the enemy. The step was advisable,
since it could not be doubted that Lanfrey Gaveston would hold as
prisoners all whom he could capture.
"We must not wait too long," Maid Marian repeated, after an interval of
silence. "Yet I dread the parting from you. I fear lest you will be killed or
taken."
"Fear not for me," bade Robin Hood. "Nay, I and my trusty comrades will
hew our way to freedom, be assured. The varlets will make a poor stand
against us. It is not that which preys on my mind," he added, with a sigh. "It
is the thought of leaving this home that is so dear to me. It is hard -- bitterly
hard -- to feel that I may never put foot in it again. Memories crowd thick
and fast upon me, Marian. Here I was born and brought up. Here my
mother taught me to walk and to lisp a prayer at her knee. Here my parents
died, and they lie buried yonder under the shade of a tree. And I, their
unworthy son, am fated to henceforth dwell under the ban of the law, with
no roof to cover my head. 'Tis only natural, then, that my heart should be
heavy. But the cloud is passing. The wrench must come, and I'll meet it
with fortitude. And why not? I shall always have you, sweet mistress. And
a home in the greenwood, with you for wife, will have charms to
compensate for the loss of----"
Robin Hood paused. His face had brightened, and there was a look of
resignation in his eyes. He kissed the girl, and then, rising from the bench,
he drew her with him to the front of the hall, and there assembled his
friends around him.
"A word with you all, while I have the opportunity," he said. "The door has
been so weakened that a child might almost push it in. That it will yield to
the next attack is certain, so when those knaves do advance again, which
will be shortly, Friar Tuck will take the women under his wing, and depart
with them by means of the secret passages which lead to the ruins of the
ancient abbey. The rest of us will then open to the foe, and sally forth
amongst them, and give battle with strong hearts and strong arms. When we
have fought through, as I doubt not we shall do, we will disperse in the
forest, and come together at the mouth of the passage, where the friar and
his charges will be waiting for us. To flight we must indeed come, and I
like it not. But my conscience is clear. I put the blame on that rogue,
Lanfrey Gaveston, who would persecute me for his own ends."
There were no cheers at the conclusion of this speech. The occasion was
one for sorrow rather than rejoicing, yet Robin's friends and retainers were
none the less eager to engage the enemy, at close quarters. The blast of a
horn was now heard, ringing from the edge of the greenwood. It was the
signal for the attack to be renewed, and it brought Maid Marian in haste
from the quadrangle, whither she had gone to kiss for the last time her
father's cold cheek. Having embraced her lover with tears in her eyes, and
begged him to be careful, she sped away at a word of Friar Tuck, who
guided her and the other women to the cellar where the secret passage
began.
The sheriff and his men were approaching at a run, their ardour stimulated
by meat and drink. Over the sward they came, calling to one another to
make a speedy end of the siege, and little dreaming of the surprise that was
in store for them. They had no chance to beat upon the massive door, nor
even to reach it. For the fastenings had been undone, and it was pulled wide
on its hinges when they had got to within several yards of it. And there was
Robin Hood, ready for the fray.
"Follow where I go, Little John!" he cried. "And you, too, Will Scarlett. We
three will lead the way. And now set to, my good fellows. Have at them.
Strike for liberty!"
"A murrain on the varlets!" bawled Lanfrey Gaveston, as he saw what was
intended. "They would seek to escape. Frustrate them. And fail not to slay
that villain Hood if you cannot take him alive. Twenty pieces of gold to the
one who----"
His voice was drowned by the cheers of the party front the castle.
Impetuous was their onset, and the battle that ensued was to be talked of at
many a cottage fireside in years to come. Right well did Little John and
Will Scarlett support their gallant leader, who held his quarter-staff above
him at arms length, and mowed men down with it as if they had been dried
reeds.
"Have at them!" he shouted again and again. Have at the knaves!"
The Attack on Robin Hood's Castle
The issue was at first in doubt, the enemy showing no lack of courage. The
sound of staves beating on staves, and the clash of steel on steel, blended
with the shrill clamour of the combatants. There was a time when brave
Robin and his followers were hard pressed, surrounded on all sides by the
yelling, striking foe. But in the end they conquered the odds. By lusty
whacks and desperate valour they hewed a path clean through their
assailants, and got clear of them. Not one of their number had they lost; nor
had any been even badly hurt. But they left the ground behind them strewn
with Lanfrey Gaveston's men-at-arms -- some of them lying stunned, and
some writhing with broken limbs and cracked heads. As for the sheriff, he
was dancing about like a madman, raving incoherently while he held a hand
to a bleeding nose. At the borders of the wood Robin Hood turned to wave
to him, and to call a mocking farewell.
"One favour I would ask of you, Gaveston," he added; "and if ever you
demand one in return, I will grant it. Give decent burial to old Mordaunt,
the minstrel, who has died of an arrow shot by your men. And mark his
grave, so that it may be known to his daughter."
The sheriff answered with an imprecation, and another sang in Robin

Hood's ears as he plunged into the leafy cover. The angry clamour faded
behind him, and soon he had with him only Will Scarlett and Little John,
who was so called in irony for his tremendous bulk. The rest of the band
had scattered in different directions, yet none went far out of their way; for
every man had put in an appearance within five minutes after the arrival of
the leader at the abbey ruins, where he found Friar Tuck and the women ;
awaiting him. Maid Marian flew to his arms, almost weeping for joy; and
she was still in his embrace, listening to his account of the fight, when the
last of the men joined the party.
"Well," here we all are," said the fat friar. "Heaven be praised!"
The exit from the secret passage was on high ground, and in the distance,
through a rift in the trees, could be seen the grey battlements of the castle.
Robin Hood's melancholy eyes rested on them, and he slowly shook his
head.
"Driven forth for the killing of a paltry deer!" he murmured "Banished from
the roof that has sheltered me from childhood, and nurtured my ancestors.
'Tis a sore grievance. But worse might have befallen. I have much to be
thankful for."
His gaze left the castle, and as it swept his companions he smiled bravely,
and tossed his yellow hair back from his shoulders with a careless gesture.
"Ho for a merry life!" he said. "In the greenwood we'll dwell, with the sky
for our roof. I'll be king of the domain, and you will be my loyal subjects.
What matter, if we be outlawed, as truly we now are? We must subsist, and
to do so we must prey on such travellers as venture into our realm. But we
will rob only the rich, and what spoils we may take from them we will
share with the poor. None who are in need shall appeal to us for alms and
depart empty-handed. And now come, lest danger steal upon us. We go to a
far place, and a safe one, where we can dwell without fear of the knavish
Sheriff of Nottingham."
"Where that place be, I care not," declared Friar Tuck, "so long as fish,
flesh, and fowl abound!"
"For shame, jovial monk!" laughed Robin Hood. "You think more of your
stomach than of your religion!"
With that he struck into the forest, still sad at heart, yet comforted by the
presence of Maid Marian at his side. And in silence his friends and
retainers filed after him, as willing to share his exile as they had been to
carouse at his hospitable board.
PART TWO.
The leaves had dropped and withered, and the trees had bloomed forth
again in verdure since the siege of the castle. Shortly after that event Friar
Tuck had married the minstrel's pretty daughter to Robin Hood, and for
nearly a year he and his merry men had been living in the deep lonely heart
of Sherwood Forest, making their home now at one spot, and now at
another. They had had no cause to grumble. Never had they lacked meat or
wine, or anything else that they craved for. Many travellers they had
waylaid, and despoiled of gold and merchandise, sending them off with
empty purses and saddlebags. A goodly band they were in appearance, for a
tailor had fallen into their hands with three pack-horses laden with bales of
cloth, and they had forced him to accept their hospitality until he had made
for each of them a suit of Lincoln green. They had paid him, however, not
letting the man suffer any loss. And by such fair deeds, and by giving to the
poor a portion of what he took from the purses of the rich, the leader of
these rovers of the greenwood had acquired a reputation for chivalry. Exile,
and the ban of the law, sat lightly on his shoulders. Happy he was indeed,
with a beautiful wife to love him, and subjects as loyal and devoted as ever
a monarch had.
These doings, it may be imagined, had highly incensed the Sheriff of

Nottingham. His hatred of Robin Hood had so increased in virulence that
he could scarcely sleep at night for thinking of him. And he was the further
enraged because of his utter helplessness. He had not a sufficient force of
men-at-arms to cope with the outlaws, whose number had been swelled by
new recruits; and, moreover, they could easily have eluded him had he
gone forth to give them battle. He had twice forwarded a report to the King
in London, and requested that soldiers should be sent to him. But no
favourable answer had been received, and he had not asked again. The truth
was that Richard the Lion-hearted, the hero of the Crusades, had heard
favourable tales of Robin Hood from other sources, and was not disposed to
think very harshly of him.
In those days Saxons and Normans dwelt in amity in England, and on the
borders of Sherwood Forest there lived in an old castle a Saxon gentleman,
aged seventy, Hardfast by name, who had a young and lovely daughter. His
affection for her, however, was as nothing compared to his passion for
gold. He had wealth in plenty, and as he was counting it one morning, and
chuckling with delight, he was startled by the sound of footsteps. He
hurriedly thrust his money-bags into a chest, and slammed the lid down as
the girl entered the room. She was a petite little maid, as pretty as a picture,
with hair that was the colour of ripe corn. She stood before her father with
flushed cheeks, and with a light in her blue eyes that was new to him.
"Dost know that I am grown nearly to a woman?" she said timidly. "I am
eighteen to-day."
"And what is that to me?" muttered Hardfast, who wanted to be at his

wealth again.
"There is a suitor for my hand. He desires that I would wed him, and I, too,
am of that mind, for he pleases me much."
"A suitor--eh? And who is he, Helen?"
"He is Allan-a-Dale, father, whom I have known from childhood."
"What, that fellow!" exclaimed the old miser. "He dares to ask for your
hand. A plague on his presumption!"
"He is well-born," urged the girl, trembling at the storm she had roused.
"And he is handsome and gallant."
"Speak not of him. He is poor, and, therefore, he is no fitting match for you.
Order him about his business, or send him to me. I'll tell him that you must
marry riches!"
"But I want to marry Allan. He loves me, and I love him. Won't you let me
be happy?"
"Gold means happiness, child. Poverty means misery."
"It doesn't always!" vowed Helen. "I would rather starve with Allan in a
cottage than live in a palace with the richest man in England."
"You are a little fool!" spluttered Hardfast, glaring at his daughter. "How
came such nonsense into your head? I'll have none of it, mark you! Not
another word! Give no further thought to that varlet! I forbid you to have
speech with him again, or to let him approach you! I'll find a husband for
you! He will be one to my liking, not to yours! He will be no beardless boy
with empty pockets!"
"Oh, father, don't try to part me from Allan-a-Dale!"

"I'll do more than part you! I'll have him beaten by my servants, if he comes
near you!"
The girl's lips quivered. Her eyes filled with tears, and after a moment of
hesitation she slowly and sadly left the room. The old miser had forgotten
his moneybags. Knowing what rare charms his daughter possessed, he had
hoped that she would one day have suitors with fat purses, and perhaps blue
blood as well. The interview had upset him. He paced to and fro on
tremulous limbs, scowling and fuming, and shaking his fist at an imaginary
Allan-a-Dale.
"The presumptuous rogue!" he muttered. "A lad with hardly a groat to his
name. Yet cunning he hath. It is in his mind to have the spending of my
wealth after I am gone. Ay, 'tis more from greed than love that he woos
Helen. But she is not for him. Forsooth, rather than let her wed such a
fellow, I would----"
The miser broke off abruptly. He had just heard a clatter of hoofs, and as he
looked from the window, and saw two horsemen drawing rein out in the
road, an expression of surprise crept over his face.
"It is Fitzurse, in very truth!" he said to himself. "He has been none too
friendly with me, yet he comes here. What errand can have brought him?"
One of the horsemen was a servant, and the other was his master, a rich
Norman baron, who bore the name of Fitzurse. He lived at a big place
several miles away, and held state there with the pride and dignity that his
position warranted. He was as conceited as a peacock, and yet few men had
less reason to be so. He was more than eighty years of age, lean, withered,
and bent, with gnarled and shrunken features of a sensuous type, and a wisp
or two of grey hair clinging to his bald pate; his lips were twisted awry, and
there was a cast in one of his bleary eyes.
Fitzurse, the Norman Baron.

The servant had swung to the ground, and was assisting his master to
dismount. They came through the gate, and up the garden path to the door,
on which the servant rapped. And presently the haughty Norman was
ushered into the room, a figure of mirth in his silken hose, and doublet
slashed with silver and purple, and plumed cap of velvet.
"I give you greeting, Hardfast,"_he croaked, in a voice that rattled like dry
bones.
"And I bid you welcome, noble baron," replied the old Saxon. "'Tis a
pleasure to have you under my roof. But pray be seated, and let me serve
you with what you may wish!"
"Nay, my business will not detain me long. I will put it in words brief and
clear. You have a daughter who is of tender years, and right goodly to look
upon."
"She is so considered, I believe."
"Rumour does not lie, for often have I seen the maid. She has taken my
fancy, and I would do her the honour of making her my wife."
There was silence for a few seconds. Ambitious and mercenary though
Hardfast was, his conscience stung him at the thought of giving Helen as
wife to this aged nobleman, who was tottering on the brink of the grave.
But his scruples soon vanished. Here was such a chance, he reflected, as he
had not dreamed would come to him. He was careful, however, not to show
his feelings.
"It is indeed a great honour, baron," he said. "But----"
He paused, and shook his head.
"I could look higher for a bride," Fitzurse answered drily. There are women
of princely blood who would fall at my knees did I lift my little finger. Yet
I put affection above the obligations of birth, and therefore I am willing to
wed with the daughter of a Saxon, and raise her to my own high estate!"
"She is still young in years," murmured Hardfast, shaking his head again.
"She is of an age to marry, surely?"
"Ay, that is true. But I fear her heart is not in her keeping. She hath a lover,
of whom she spoke to me only this morning."
"I have a rival, then? What manner of man is he? Can he dower a bride with
wealth and position?"
"Not so, baron. He is a youth with empty pockets, and thus one not to my
liking."
"A poverty-stricken suitor!" sneered Fitzurse. "Then why waste words on

him? Does not the matter rest with you? Will you let your daughter be
carried off under your nose?"
"I have told her that I would have none of this Allan-a-Dale," said the
miser.
"Tell her again. Is she her own mistress, or do you rule her?"
"Methinks she may prove stubborn."
"Break her will. Cure her of her folly by harsh measures. Look you,
Hardfast, here is a token of what more there will be to come to you when I
am married to the girl!"
As Fitzurse spoke he thrust his skinny fingers into his pocket, and drew
from it a silken purse that bulged, with gold. He shook it at Hardfast, whose
eyes glittered as he listened to the chinking of the coins. All the avarice of
his nature had been roused.
"You--you have brought this for me?" he gasped.

"On conditions," cackled the old Norman. "You will pledge your daughter
to me for wife, and, should she fail me at the altar, or meanwhile run off
with that penniless varlet, you will pay back to me the money!"
"The terms are fair, in truth. And how much does the purse contain."
"Two hundred pieces, Hardfast.. Take it. Feel the weight of it!"
"Ay, it is heavy, indeed! You spoke of more to come, I think?"
"Much more, by my faith. On the day when I am wedded to Mistress Helen

there will be for you three more purses, in each of which will be two
hundred pieces of gold. Is it a bargain?"
"Verily it is. My daughter shall be yours!"
"See that you keep to your promise. And now I would have it made clear to
the girl, in my presence, that I am the husband you have chosen for her.
Summon her forthwith!"
"She is not in the house," Hardfast replied. "I saw her go by the window
whilst we were in conversation, and I doubt not we shall find her yonder in
the open. Come, noble baron! I will take you to her, and I will give her to
understand in plain words that she is to wed with you, and have nothing
more to do with that fellow Allan-a-Dale. Come, my generous friend!"
The purse had changed hands, and was in the miser's keeping. Side by side,
leering at each other, the two old dotards tottered across the room.
Allan-a-Dale Speaks His Mind, But Is Powerless.
Barring his poverty, which was his misfortune and not his fault,
Allan-a-Dale was a youth with whom any fair lady in the land might have
been proud and glad to mate. Blue blood flowed in his veins, and he was
tall, and sturdy, and dark, with a handsome face that had set many a maid's
heart to fluttering. Having ventured that morning into the grounds of the
Hardfast dwelling, he had found Helen at a spot where he had been wont to
meet her.
She had told him, with quivering lips, of her father's harsh denial of her
request. And the youth, at first at a loss for words, had drawn her to a rustic
bench and seated himself by her side. It had dawned upon him that he had
been presumptuous, in spite of his gentle birth, in aspiring to the hand of
the daughter of the wealthy old Saxon. Not until now had he felt the sting
of poverty.
"What is to be done?" he asked, in a dull tone.
"Truly I know not!" the girl replied. "My father is determined and
obstinate. He spoke even more harshly than I have told you."
"He would have you mated to a rich husband, I suppose."
"Yes, that is his desire. He cares more for gold that he does for me. I love
you dearly, Allan, and love you I always will. Yet I fear that we shall never
be wedded."
"It stabs me to think so. Ah, fair mistress, if only I were not poor!"
"You are none the less dear to me for that. Had I money of my own I would
share it with you."
"Would you have the courage to marry me against your father's will?"
"I should not lack courage, Allan, yet it might be a foolish step. You would
have two mouths to feed instead of one, and that you could not do."
"It would be difficult, I'll not deny. But we should not starve. And we might
be happy together if your love for me was strong enough to bear the test
of----"
"Hark!" interrupted the girl. "What is that?"

Footsteps were approaching, and the next instant, around a turn of the path,
appeared Hardfast and the old Norman. They hurried forward, the one as
much enraged as the other at the sight that met their gaze. The lovers
sprang to their feet, and Allan-a-Dale boldly stood his ground, flushed and
defiant.
"What's this?" cried Hardfast. "Do I see you with the fellow I've forbidden
you to speak to? How dare you disobey me, child?"
"Don't be angry, father!" pleaded Helen. "If you have any affection for me,
let me marry whom I will!"
"'Tis my fault that we are together, sir!" spoke up the youth. "I am here by
no invitation. Yet I tell you without fear that I love your daughter, and that I
would have her for my wife!"
"Ay, that you might some day inherit my moneybags, you penniless lout!"
fairly shrieked the old miser. "I will have none of it! I have found a suitor
for the maid! She has taken the fancy of the noble Baron Fitzurse, who has
done her the honour of asking for her hand. And I have pledged her to
him!"
A startled gasp burst from Helen's lips, and she stared in horror at the
decrepit, blear-eyed nobleman, who fixed upon her a glance that he
believed to be captivating. Allan-a-Dale was no less horrified than was the
girl.
"By goodness, sir, I'll speak my mind on this matter!" he exclaimed hotly.
"It will be a crying shame--a sin to be answered for--if you sell your
daughter to this aged wreck of a man who has one foot in the grave! Will
you let the greed of gold drive you to such a crime? I cannot believe it!"
The old Norman raised a withered hand to his ear, as if he could not believe
that he had heard himself thus abused. Hardfast was for a moment
staggered by the youth's audacity, and then he fairly danced in his
excitement.
"By my halidom, never have I heard the like!" he spluttered.
"He calls me an aged wreck!" cackled Baron Fitzurse.
"Insolent varlet!" raved the miser, shaking his fist at Allan-a-Dale. "Knave
that thou art! You would dare call me to account! Not for you is my
daughter! Mark my words, and drive me not too far! Put foot henceforth on
my domain, and I'll have my servants beat you with sticks until every bone
in your body is broken! And they shall then fling you into a ditch to rot!"
"Nay, Hardfast, it would not be punishment enough! vowed Fitzurse, his

sunken eyes blazing with hatred. "If so be as the fellow disobeys you, beat
him first, and then send him to me. And I'll cast him into one of my foul
dungeons, to die amongst the rats!"
They were no empty threats that had been uttered. In those days men like
the old Norman had the power to do pretty much as they liked. So
Allan-a-Dale knew. He was not blind to his danger. Yet he had remained
calm and defiant while he listened to the storm he had provoked. The girl
was the more frightened of the two. In her anxiety for her lover she had
forgotten her own terror.
"Go, Allan--go!" she urged in a low tone. "I tremble for you! For my sake,
please go!"
"If he tarries here, it will be at his peril!" cried Hardfast. "I'll send forthwith
for my servants!"
The youth hesitated, strongly tempted to speak his mind yet more fully. But
another pleading word from Helen cooled his passion, and with a pathetic
glance at her--a glance of farewell--he turned on his heel and strode away.
"Keep your distance in future," the miser shouted after him, "if you value
your skin!"
"'Tis a good riddance!" wheezed Fitzurse, with a hideous grin. "We have
finished with the varlet, Hardfast, and I shall have my bride. Ha, a
charming maid she is indeed!"
He leered like a Satyr at Helen, who was in dread lest he would touch her,
yet had not the strength to flee. She sank down on the bench, and burst into
a flood of tears, and crouched there weeping whilst the two old harpies
wagged their heads at each other. Had Allan-a-Dale heard her frantic sobs
he might have returned hot-foot, ready to brave any evil. But he had passed
from Hardfast's grounds, and was crossing a meadow where a rushing
stream dinned in his ears. There was in his heart a pain that was like the
twisting of a knife round and round. Deep was his love for the girl, and
anguishing the thought that he had lost her.
"Alas, woe is me!" he said to himself. "I would fain carry off Helen from
her father's house, and I doubt not she would consent. But, it would be
impossible. She will be too closely guarded hereafter. Why was I born
poor, and to such misery? A cruel thing it is that I should be thus spurned
and cast out because of an empty purse, though I be young and strong. I
must step aside for the Baron Fitzurse, with his fat moneybags, and his blue
blood that is dried in his veins. He will be wedded to my beloved, and on
that day I shall lie down and die. Or else I'll take to soldiering, and seek a
speedy end in battle."
In such a mood was the handsome young Saxon, bereft of hope, and
tortured by his passion for the old miser's lovely daughter. His face was set
towards Sherwood Forest, which was near by, and thither he bent his
course, not knowing nor caring why.
Allan-a-Dale's First Meeting with Robin Hood's Band.
Blindly and aimlessly, sunk in depression so numbing that he was deaf to

the singing of the birds and the stirring of the deer, Allan-a-Dale wandered
on and on for hours, until he had got far within the vast solitude.
At length he paused, observing that the sun was no great distance above the
horizon; and as he was leaning against a tree, lacking the will-power to
retrace his steps, he heard to his left the snapping of a twig, and the next
instant there burst upon him from the thickets two strapping fellows, garbed
in Lincoln green, and wearing plumed hats, who menaced him with
glittering daggers.
"Move not," threatened one, "else you will taste of cold steel!"
"What art doing so far in the greenwood?" demanded the other. "Give an
account of yourself!"
"'Tis my concern, not yours," muttered Allan-a-Dale, with an indifferent

shrug of the shoulders.
"In truth, an insolent fellow, Little John!" said the shorter of the two.
"And he hath an ill-temper," his companion assented. "Yet he may have a

fat purse beneath his silken doublet!"
"A fat purse!" echoed the youth, with a bitter laugh. "Hardly a groat have I
to my name, and no prospect of having any! As for your daggers, I care not
if you bury them to the hilt in my----"
As he spoke a sudden irritation, a sense of resentment against everybody

and everything, fired his wrath. He struck at one of his captors, and
wrenched his blade from his grasp, meaning to use it. But before he could
thrust with it both men set upon him, and, though he fought right lustily,
and gave some hard knocks, he had no chance with two such powerful
assailants.
He was soon borne to the ground, and as he lay there, helpless, with the
breath out of him, he expected to feel the cold steel. But no further violence
was intended. He was hauled to his feet by the larger of the men, a veritable
giant in stature and build. He held the captive's arm in a grip that was like a
vice, and with the other hand searched his pockets, in which he found
several copper coins. He glanced at them in contempt.
"They are not worth the trouble we've had!" he grumbled. "And what are
we to do with this fellow?"
"Methinks we had better fetch him along with us," his companion replied.
"I am of the same mind, Will Scarlet. It may be that he has been sent hither
to spy upon us!"
"Ay, that is true."
Allan-a-Dale's anger was spent, and he was in such depression again that he
would not have had the heart to escape had the opportunity offered.
"Where would you take me?" he inquired, in a dull tone.
"To our chief, Robin Hood, whom we serve," the big man answered.
"He will decide your fate, young sir," declared the other.
They expected the youth to show surprise or fear, but he gave no sign of
either. He merely nodded.
"I will come with you right willingly," he said. "It matters not to me
whither I go!"
And, with the outlaws on either side of him, he struck into the greenwood.
How Allan-a-Dale Joined Robin Hood's Band
The day was drawing to a close, and the sun, still above the horizon, shed a
mellow light on a glade that was in the deepest recesses of Sherwood
Forest. It was girt about by great trees, through the trunks of which flashed
the silvery waters of a brook that teemed with fish, This lonely spot had for
some time been the home of Robin Hood and his band, who never stayed
long at one place. Some of the band were absent, and the rest were enjoying
their ease here after a successful chase of the red-deer.
They were gathered in graceful attitudes around the famous outlaw, who
was seated on a stool that had been fashioned for him, with his yellow locks
floating to the breeze. Maid Marian was nestled at his feet, weaving a
wreath of flowers with the assistance of her servant Alfreda. Friar Tuck had
been singing a rollicking ditty, and he was now deaf to the appeals of the
company that he should go on with it.
"Nay, my voice is weak from hunger," he vowed, smacking his lips. "it
must first be strengthened with good wine and juicy meat!"
"Have a care, you fat rogue!" chided Robin Hood. "'Tis not yet the hour for
the evening meal. Unless we hear three more staves forthwith, no bite or
sup will you get. You shall stand by with an empty stomach, while we----"
He broke off, and raised his hand to his brow. "Who come yonder?" he
murmured.
"They are Little John and Will Scarlet," said Maid Marian.
"And another is with them," observed Dickon. "He would appear to be a

stranger."
The group of three had just broken cover at the edge of the glade. Quickly
they strode over the grass, and stopped in front of their leader, who bent a
keen, searching gaze on the captive.
"We came upon him in the greenwood, wandering as one lost," explained
Will Scarlet. "A lusty fight he gave us, and for our trouble we were repaid
by four copper coins."
"We know not who he is," put in Little John; "and as we have had no
account of him, we judged it wise to fetch him along, thinking that he
might be a spy."
The youth shook his head with a gesture of disdain. His eyes had carelessly
swept the gathering, and they were now fixed in vague curiosity upon the
robber chief.
"I am no spy," he said. "Of that you may be sure. Whether you be honest
men or knaves is no business of mine!"
"Know you who I am?" asked Robin Hood.
"Ay, you are the king of robbers!" was the listless reply.
"You dare speak thus to my face? Hast no fear, presumptuous youth?"
"I fear no man. I have reached a pass where I care not if I live or die."
"And what trouble has caused such depression?"
"It is my own. I will confide it not to strangers!"
"I am not so much of a stranger as you may think, perchance," muttered

Robin Hood. "In days gone by----" He paused, and the frown that was on
his face turned to a smile. "I know you," he added, laughing. "You are
young Allan-a-Dale, who didst formerly live at the Moat House. I have
been your father's guest there, and he has supped at my castle. But that was
in past times, when my father and yours were alive!"
"I have no recollection of you," the youth said dully.
"Nay, you would not have. You were a tiny child, and I was not much
more. Now we have met again, and I find you weary of life. I would again
ask, in spite of your rebuff, what has brought you to such straits? Yet I
might guess. I mind that when your father died his estate was loaded with
debts, and the Moat House had to be sold. So I judge that you were left
without substance, and thus the world goes hard with you?"
"There is truth in that," assented Allan-a-Dale, who was now inclined to

speak freely. "Little indeed did I inherit from my father. But it is not
poverty that has made life a burden to me, though that is in some part the
cause. Have you knowledge of a Saxon gentleman named Hardfast?"
"Ay, that I have," Robin Hood answered. "I knew the old miser when I still
dwelt in my castle!"
"And do you also know the Baron Fitzurse?"
"I know him to be a rogue without scruples or conscience, and with a

wicked eye for a petticoat!"
"You cannot speak too badly of him. Know, then, that between Hardfast
and this Norman baron I am to be robbed of the maid who is all the world
to me. She is Helen, the lovely daughter of Hardfast, and she loves me as I
love her. Yet she is to be forced to wed with Fitzurse!"
"Alack and alas! To wed with that tottering dotard?"
"It is true. And the reason why her father is selling her is plain. I have an
empty purse, while Fitzurse has stores of gold!"
"It is a sad case, young Allan. I would hear more of it."
The youth's tongue had been loosened, and it needed no further urging to
draw from him the whole story, which he told in simple and pathetic
language that stirred his listeners. When he had finished he sighed deeply,
and so did Friar Tuck, whose fat face was as long as a fiddle,
"Women are the cause of all ills," he said, in a doleful tone. "They are
thorns in the side of mankind. Thankful am I that not one hath ever caused
me a moment of uneasiness."
"Sour grapes, friar!" laughed Maid Marian. "I'll warrant you have lost your
heart in days past."
"Nay, I have cared for naught but religion!"
"And for the pleasures of the stomach, good Tuck."
There was a burst of merriment. It died away, and silence fell for a short
interval. Allan-a-Dale's handsome face and graceful figure, no less than the
romantic tale he had told, had won the sympathies of the women of the
party. It was so with Maid Marian more than with the rest. She put her
mouth close to Robin Hood's ear, and whispered to him earnestly. Again
and again, while he listened, he shook his head and frowned, but in the end
he appeared to have been persuaded. The puckers cleared from his brow,
and a gleam of amusement crept into his blue eyes. He nodded, then rose
from his stool, and clapped the youth on the shoulder.
"You have a friend at court," he said, "and she has solicited my favour on
your behalf, but I would first question you concerning the matter. Is this
maid's affection for you as strong as is yours for her?"
"I doubt not that it is," Allan-a-Dale replied. "She loves me with all her
heart."
"Would she welcome the opportunity, then, of being saved from the
clutches of Baron Fitzurse and wedded to you?"
"I feel sure that she would, in very truth, such is her horror of the baron.
Ay, she would gladly be my wife, poor though I am. But you speak of that
which is impossible. Strongly will my Helen be guarded, lest I venture
near."
"Her father's servants would be of no avail against my band," Robin Hood

said drily.
"What mean you?" asked the youth.
"I will tell you in few words. My wife desires your happiness, and she has
brought me to the same way of thinking. Therefore, I am in the mind to
carry Hardfast's daughter off, and have her married to you by our jolly
friar."
"Would--would you really do that?"
"It is indeed my purpose, young Allan."
"Ah, kind sir, how can I thank you?"
"But wait. There is a condition. In return for my service, should it succeed,

you will pledge yourself to join my merry band. What say you?"
Allan-a-Dale's hesitation was brief. His thoughtful face suddenly

brightened, and he gripped the hand that Robin Hood extended to him.
"A true friend you are!" he exclaimed. "Robbers you may be, yet there is
less harm in that than in the wicked doings of Baron Fitzurse! Right gladly
will I join your band, and a loyal member of it I'll be! A life in the
green-wood will be to my taste, and my sweetheart will be as happy as
myself. So it is settled."
The youth's decision evoked cheers from all, and while they were ringing in
his ears he knelt by Maid Marian, and kissed her slim, white fingers, and
poured out his gratitude to her. And when he rose to his feet, Robin Hood
drew him aside and put a hand on his arm,
"You have chosen well," he said. "I believe you will not regret it. As for my
plans, they call for some consideration. Be assured, however, that I will
contrive some means of rescuing the girl before she can be wedded to
Fitzurse. Your bride she shall be, I swear it! But we will speak further of
the matter again. Come now with me, young Allan. We will drink a horn of
sack together ere the evening meal, and I will then show you where you are
to sleep. For from this hour you are one of us, though not yet will you be
asked to take the oath of allegiance."
Side by side they strolled across the glade, and as they passed amongst the
trees Friar Tuck's rich, mellow voice burst into song behind them. It
gladdened the heart of Allan-a-Dale, in which was no room now for sorrow.
How Maid Marian Entered Hardfast's Castle.
Four days had gone by since the making of the infamous compact between
Hardfast and Baron Fitzurse. Slowly and sadly, with melancholy in her
eyes, Helen came out from a door of her father's house, and descended a
flight of stone steps that led to the grounds. She stood here for a few
moments in the warm sunshine, listening to the singing of the birds; and
then the thickets to one side of her rustled, and from them stepped two
women who carried small harps. They were young and pretty, and gaily
attired.
Maid Marian and Alfreda, disguised as Minstrels, "on Robin Hood's

Business."
"Be not frightened," the elder woman said quickly to the startled girl. "We
mean you no harm. I have brought a message from Allan-a-Dale."
"From--from Allan?" echoed the girl, her cheeks flushing.
"Yes; a message of good cheer. Your lover did wander far into Sherwood
Forest, and there fell in with Robin Hood, whose wife I am. His tale moved
us all to pity, and put my husband in the mind to help him. And so my
servant Alfreda and myself have been sent hither, disguised as minstrels,
with words of comfort from Robin Hood and from the youth, and also with
a deeper purpose."
"But your husband is a robber and an outlaw," said Helen, in a troubled

tone. "I have heard much of his evil deeds."
"There is no evil in them," warmly declared Maid Marian. "He is the best
and noblest of men, and it is the fault of the Sheriff of Nottingham, who
hates him, that he has been driven from home, and forced to prey on those
who can afford to lose. He steals only from the rich."
"'Tis true that I have heard good reports of him as well as ill."
"Good he is, indeed. And better a thousand times than the wicked Baron
Fitzurse."
"I doubt it not. So great is my terror of the baron that I cannot sleep at
nights. And yet, alas! I am betrothed to him."
"It must go no farther child. Would you marry Allan-a-Dale if it could be so

contrived by Robin Hood?"
"Yes, yes, I would!" Helen eagerly exclaimed.
"I could be happy anywhere with Allan, in poverty or in riches. That my

heart has told me, since I have been sold to the baron. But how am I to be
saved from such a fate? Does it lie in your husband's power?"
"There is nothing he cannot do if he has the will. This matter, however, is

one that requires careful planning, and calls for assistance from you. Of that
I will speak shortly. Tell me, first, if the day for the wedding has been
fixed."
"Yes; it is to be in a week's time, at the church yonder," the girl replied, fear
creeping into her eyes as she spoke.
"Much can be accomplished in a week," said Maid Marian. "We must, on

some pretext, gain admittance to your dwelling, and be allowed to remain
there, so that we can send daily reports to my husband. Will that be
difficult?"
"I am afraid it will be."
"Perhaps not, child. Are not guests coming from a distance to attend the
wedding?"
"Yes, there will be fully a score; and some are expected to-morrow."
"I judged as much. Surely, then, your father will be in the mind to provide
music for those whom he entertains?"
"Ah, I see! It is the custom to have music, yet he has not mentioned it. But
it may, indeed, be possible for me to----"
"Be careful," Maid Marian interrupted. "He comes now."
The door above had been opened, and Hardfast had appeared. As fast as he
could he hobbled down the steps, his grey hair hanging on his shoulders,
and gazed suspiciously at his daughter and the two strangers. But by then
Helen had artfully concealed her joyous emotions, and her eyes were as
melancholy as they had been before.
"What are you doing here?" her father demanded. "Who are these people?"
"They are wandering minstrels," the girl replied, in an indifferent tone.

"They have heard reports of the wedding, and they crave permission to
dwell under your roof, and harp for the guests you are to entertain."
"Bid them go about their business!" Hardfast said angrily. "I have no
money to waste on such follies! I am a poor man!"
"It will cost you no money," urged Maid Marian, in a whining voice. "Let
us play for your guests, and we will be content with food and lodging. Do
not refuse, gracious sir. Many miles have we walked, in the hope of this
boon from you."
The appeal had touched the miser's weak spot. The thought of getting
something for nothing pleased him. His harsh expression melted, and he
rubbed his hands.
"That alters matters," he said. "I will bargain with you on those terms. Bite
and sup you shall have, and a place to sleep, and naught else. Not a groat,
remember. I cannot afford to pay. And now come. I would have you give
me a taste of your harping."
The girl's eyes danced, and she smiled over her shoulder at the minstrels as
they all ascended the steps, at the heels of Hardfast, who led them to his
sitting-room, where he sat down in a great chair.
"Begin!" he said. "If I like not your skill you will go."
Maid Marian had no fear of the test. She and her servant tuned their harps;
and so sweetly did they play, such languorous, dreamy music did they
evoke from the strings, that presently the old miser's eyes closed, and his
head drooped on his breast. He had been lulled to sleep.
"It is well!" whispered Helen. "You have pleased my father, and he will
gladly let you remain here until the wedding. Come now with me," she
added, as she drew the minstrels to the door, "and I will give you food and
drink."
The citadel had been won, and the outlook was promising.
That night Maid Marian and Alfreda again played Hardfast to sleep; and on
the following day the servant stole forth to the borders of the forest, and
there met by appointment with Little John, to whom she delivered a report,
to be conveyed to Robin Hood and Allan-a-Dale. And as the days went by
more messages were thus sent, and answers were brought back for Maid
Marian's ear.
Robin Hood to the Rescue
The week passed, and there came the day that was to see the consummation
of the bargain between Hardfast and Baron Fitzurse. The girl was up with
the sun, after a restless night; and ere the time for departure she had
opportunity of speech with Maid Marian, who assured her that all would be
well, and bade her have no fear. Yet so momentous was the issue, and so
elaborate were the preparations that had been made for the ceremony, that
Helen could not but feel keenly apprehensive.
"Fitzurse will have his armed retainers," she reflected gloomily, as her
servant was dressing her, towards the middle of the morning, "and they
may be in such force as to prevent my rescue. Alas! I shall die of horror if I
be wedded to that wicked man!"
Very pale and lovely Helen looked in her bridal finery and not feigned was
the sadness in her eyes when she set forth for the church. Some of the
guests walked in front of her, and some behind; and by her side tottered old
Hardfast, chuckling now and again as he thought of the three fat purses of
gold that were to be handed to him at the altar as the price of his beautiful
daughter. Alfreda witnessed the start of the procession, but not Maid
Marian.
A short time before she had furtively left the house and gone to keep an
appointment, of which word had been sent to her by her husband on the
previous day. Having gone for a quarter of a mile beyond the miser's estate,
she stopped by a great tree that marked the trysting-place, and strained her
ears. All was quiet, and a look of anxiety grew in her eyes as she continued
to listen.
"There should be some sound of them by now," she said to herself. "I pray
they may not be late!"
At an early hour of the morning, while yet the sun was below the horizon,
Robin Hood and his band had set forth from their encampment, armed for
such resistance as they might encounter. For mile after mile they had
traversed the sylvan solitude, heedless of the deer that crossed their course.
They had allowed themselves plenty of time; but one vexatious delay they
met with, and it retarded them so much that they were not a little uneasy
when at length they joined Maid Marian, who had been waiting for a
considerable interval. She, too was uneasy; but her first thought was for her
husband, from whom she had been separated for a week.
She flew to his arms, and was out of them the next instant.
"I have been here this long while!" she said. "What has kept you?"
"The blame lies with our jolly fat monk--greedy glutton that he is!" Robin
Hood angrily replied, "'Ere daybreak, while the rest of us were yet abed, he
did quietly rise and stew a mess of eels and eat them every one. It is not to
be wondered at, therefore, that his wind failed him yonder in the forest."
"He dropped down, grunting like a pig," put in Will Scarlett. "We dared not
leave him, since he was needed to wed the lovers. So we had to wait until
he was recovered."
"'Twas not the eels," vowed Friar Tuck. "It was an affection of the heart.
Methinks I feel it on me again, but if any of you has in his leather-bottle a
stoup of wine it will cure me of----"
"I'll cure you with a whack of my staff," interrupted Robin Hood, "if the
indisposition returns. I fear we are late, Marian," he added. "Think you so?"
"I trust not," his wife replied. "Yet by now the procession may have
reached the church."
"Have we far to go?"
"It is a fair stretch, Robin. Not another moment may we tarry here."
"Come, let us hasten," urged Allan-a-Dale, who was haggard with anxiety.
"I am in a fever of suspense lest my sweetheart be married to that old
villain, and so lost to me for ever."
In a trice the band were in motion, and following at the heels of Maid
Marian, who held up her skirt that she might travel the faster. Fleetly she
led the way from the borders of the forest to a footpath, and along that for
some hundreds of yards, beneath the overarching boughs of trees, to a
narrow passage that formed a rear entrance of the church. Into this she
glided noiselessly, with a finger to her lips. She paused in the shadow of a
pillar, and drew a quick breath as she turned to her husband.
"Look!" she said, in a whisper. "We are none too soon!"
"Nay; that we are not!" murmured Robin Hood, as he reached for the horn
that hung at his side. "By my halidom we are but just in time to save the
girl!"
At the Church
Helen's spirits had sunk lower and lower during the walk to the ancient
Saxon church in the wood, where had previously arrived Baron Fitzurse's
friends and retainers. The baron was with them, most gorgeously attired,
and with the three purses of gold in his belt. On stiff limbs he strutted
forward, wincing at the painful effort it cost him to hold himself erect. No
spark of pity had he for the girl he had bought, though he could read in her
eyes the repulsion she felt for him. Having pressed her fingers to his
withered lips, he nodded to Hardfast, whose covetous gaze was on the gold.
He trembled at the sight of it.
"Let me have it now," he begged. "I have kept the bargain. The maid is as
good as yours."
"Take it, then," mumbled Fitzurse, who was not in the least afraid of losing
his bride.
The silken purses were handed to the old miser, and he hurriedly thrust
them into the folds of his doublet, apprehensive of being robbed even in
such company. The priest advanced to the altar, and Helen and the decrepit
nobleman took their places in front of him, standing side by side. In the
foreground, filling a portion of the sacred edifice, were the various guests
and baron's men-at-arms.
The poor girl's dread had increased, and her hopes were at a low ebb. The
monotonous voice of the priest chilled her blood, though she was scarcely
aware of what he was saying. She shuddered as the baron jostled her elbow.
Her cheeks were ghastly pale, and there was a wild look in her eyes.
Furtively she peered here and there, and strained her ears to catch any
sound which might signify that her rescuers were approaching. Her heart
fluttered like that of a frightened bird, and she breathed fast and deep.
"They will not come," she thought. "Robin Hood has failed me, and I shall
be lost to Allan. Alas! what a fate is mine! Woe is this day!"
The ceremony was nearly over, and Helen was now in utter despair. She
had not the strength to move, else she would have fled from the old dotard
by her side. A deathly faintness crept upon her, and she was on the point of
swooning from sheer horror when, just as the final words were about to be
pronounced, there rang out the loud blast of a horn, startling the priest to
silence. And with that the merry outlaws of Sherwood Forest dashed
forward from the rear of the church, led by Robin Hood.
"Enough of this!" he cried. "I forbid the marriage! May shall not wed with
December!"
Staggering was the surprise, and thrilling was the scene that followed.
Shouts and yells and lusty cheers and the screaming of frightened women,
blended with the clash of steel, and the rattle of staves on staves. A fight
was waged, sharp and desperate. Meanwhile, Allan-a-Dale had gained the
side of the half-dazed girl, and thrown his arm around her waist. And thus
he stood, shielding her, grasping in his other hand a sword with which he
menaced Hardfast and the baron, and kept them from him, while, the
combatants surged to and fro.
"Have at them!" the voice of Robin Hood rang clear. "Make short work of
the knaves!"
The battle was soon over, and without bloodshed, though there were
cracked heads and bruised limbs. Only a few of the wedding-guests were
armed, and the old Norman's retainers, valiant though they were, were not
in sufficient strength to cope with the outlaws. When some of them had
been stunned the rest lost heart, and were driven like sheep into a corner,
where half a dozen of their assailants held them at bay with drawn
crossbows.
Gradually the tumult subsided. The guests, to whom the priest had fled,
were huddled apart from the men-at-arms; and a battery of eyes, staring as
much in curiosity as in fear, were bent on the handsome fair-haired man
whom all had by now realised to be the famous robber of Sherwood Forest.
Helen had recovered from her faintness, and was gazing fondly into the
face of Allan-a-Dale, who had dropped his sword, and was scarcely
conscious of anything, save the dear burden that was in his arms. Robin
Hood joined them, and called the monk to him. And then, with an
imperative gesture, he bade Baron Fitzurse and the old miser come forward.
They advanced reluctantly, their limbs trembling beneath them.
"I mean you no harm," Robin Hood said to them, with a smile of
amusement. "I would have you take the places of honour at this ceremony,
which is more to my taste than the one you would have had performed. And
now to your business, good Tuck," he added. "Mate these young people by
the rites of the Church, and be quick about it."
"Ay, it shall be speedy shrift with them," replied Friar Tuck. "Right
willingly will I make them one, since they are indeed fitted for each other."
He composed his fat and jolly features to something like gravity, and
standing by the altar with his arms raised, he began to repeat the
marriage-service.
No one dared interfere. Hardfast and the wicked baron could only fume and
rage, and utter under their breath, dreadful imprecations, for which the girl
cared not a jot.
"I pronounce you man and wife!" the friar concluded.
The ceremony was over. Robin Hood kissed the blushing bride, and put her
into Allan-a-Dale's arms again. And then he lifted his cap and waved it at
his men, who gave three rounds of cheers that fairly shook the roof.
"This is a deed beyond all bounds!" spluttered Fitzurse when the applause
had died away. "If there is any law left in the land you shall be punished as
you deserve! I'll appeal to the King, and have him send soldiers to put you
to the sword! I'll--I'll----" He shook his fist in impotent fury, and turned to
the miser. "I paid you too soon!" he cried. "The bargain has not been kept. I
have been robbed of the maid, and I will have my money back!"
"Nay, that you will not!" protested Hardfast. "I brought the girl to the altar,
as I was pledged to do. It is not her fault, nor is it mine, that she hath been
wedded to another."
"The blame lies on my shoulders, and gladly will I bear it," declared Robin
Hood. "And as for the money----" laughing, he snatched at the old miser's
doublet, and plucked from it the three silken purses filled with gold. "Take
them," he said, as he thrust them into Allan-a-Dale's hands. "'Tis your
wife's dowry, with the good wishes of Baron Fitzurse. I give it into your
charge."
"Oh, my money," shrieked Hardfast--"my precious money! Rob me not of

it! Let me have it!"
He whined and begged, raved and implored. He. grovelled on his knees,
and plucked wildly at his hair, and clasped his withered hands in mute
appeal. But Robin Hood was not to be moved. He spurned the old rogue,
and, putting his horn to his lips, he blew a blast that was the signal for
departure. They left by the rear of the church, as they had come; First, Maid
Marian with Helen, followed by Allan-a-Dale and the monk; and then the
men in Lincoln green, and lastly, Robin, who stopped at the exit to look
back and to make a gallant and mocking bow to the company he was
leaving behind him.
"If you would return my visit," he called to them, "you will find me at
home in the greenwood."
The next instant he was gone, and there was scurrying here and there, and a
clamour of voices, and a rush of the men-at-arms to carry the news to the
Sheriff of Nottingham, while Baron Fitzurse tottered about like a madman,
and Hardfast loudly bewailed the loss of his gold.
Nothing could be done. Pursuit would have been useless. Even Lanfrey
Gaveston, when he was informed of the daring deed, had no thought of
setting forth with his retainers, though he gnashed his teeth and flew into
such a passion that none dared venture near him the rest of the day.
Meanwhile, Robin Hood and his band had arrived at their retreat in the
depths of Sherwood Forest, where that night, after Allan-a-Dale had sworn
allegiance to the outlaws, was held the feast in celebration of his marriage
to the beautiful girl he loved. Until near to morning the revel was merrily
kept up, and there was such flow of golden wine and such abundance of
rich meats, that for once Friar Tuck, was fain to cease from eating and
drinking. When the sun rose, he lay snoring on his back beneath a tree, with
an empty flagon clutched in one hand and a picked bone in the other, while
a bright-eyed squirrel peeped curiously down at him from a bough. But
long ere then Allan-a-Dale and his bride had retired to their rest, happy and
contented. By brave Robin Hood had they come to their happiness.
The Feast in the Forest in Celebration of Allan-a-Dale's Marriage to Helen
PART 3
Lanfrey Gaveston forms a Plot for the Capture of Robin Hood
A month had gone by since the daughter of Hardfast had been snatched
from the altar, and day by day the Sheriff of Nottingham's hatred of Robin
Hood had so swelled and grown, had been so fed by further reports of
travellers robbed in the forest, that it was a consuming flame which
impaired his appetite, and held him often awake at night, and kept him ever
in a savage mood. Yet again had he written to the King for a force of
soldiers who should advance into the forest from all sides, but what answer
he had received was merely a curt intimation that the matter would in due
course have Royal attention, which was not to be regarded as promising.
The morning sun shone into the panelled room, hung with arms and
tapestries, where Lanfrey Gaveston was pacing the floor in a temper that
had been aggravated by news of yet another traveller relieved of a fat purse
in the greenwood, and ducked in a pond. To and fro he strode, now shaking
his fist, and now striking his brow, while his eyes blazed with wrath.
"It is beyond all endurance," he said to himself aloud. "My impatience is at

such a heat that it will drive me into a fever, and I shall die of it. By the
beard of Saladin, never has man of authority been so flouted as I have been
by Robin Hood. He laughs at law, and mocks the power of his Sovereign,
and exults in his evil deeds. For none in Sherwood is safe, yet I must sit
here under my roof with tied hands, helpless to lay the knave by the heels. I
am in the mind to go in person to his Majesty and make complaint. He
might then give ear to me, and take such action as I desire. Certain it is that
these doings must end. But how so? Would it be possible, I wonder, to
accomplish by craft what cannot be done by force? In very truth, I would
give gold in plenty, even to the half of what I possess, if I could thrust the
varlet into the black dungeon that is beneath the floor of this very----"
The sheriff gave a start, and left the sentence unfinished. A vague idea had
occurred to him. He stood for a little time in deep thought, slowly stroking
his chin. And at length, with a sinister smile on his lips, he passed from the
room and out of the house to the grounds that surrounded it. His glance
swept turf and shrubbery, and rested on one of his retainers, whom he
summoned to him by a wave of his arm. The man approached, a strapping
fellow, who was the officer of the guard.
"What is my lord sheriff's bidding?" he asked.
"I would take council with you," Lanfrey Gaveston replied. "Two heads are
better than one, and there has entered into mine a plan by which that
cunning rogue Hood may fall into my clutches."
"Cunning indeed would such a plan have to be, declared Piers Bolingbroke,
shaking his head doubtfully.
"And cunning it is, in very truth."
"I cannot conceive how the fellow may be trapped. Yet your wits may be
sharper than mine. But what would you put in execution?"
"Hark you, Bolingbroke, and I will make it clear. I propose to have shortly
in these grounds an archery tournament. The news of it will be spread far
and wide by proclamations, which will state that to the winner will be given
a golden chain as a prize!"
"I see not your meaning," muttered Piers Bolingbroke.
"Then a numskull thou art, with a head of wood, said the sheriff. "Does
sense stir in it when I tell you that I will have several of these
proclamations hung from the trees in Sherwood Forest?"
"And what of it, my liege lord?"
"A plague on you! Know you not that Robin Hood hath often made the
boast that there is no one who can excel him in archery?"
"Ay I have so heard, I remember."
"Is it not more than likely, then, that from sheer vanity and bravado he will
in some form disguise himself, and come to the tournament with design to
win the prize?
"Be my halidom, I feel that you right!" exclaimed the man-at-arms. "Ay,
almost surely will the knave be tempted by the offer, and so he may fall
into our hands!"
"Of a verity he will, should he come," vowed Lanfrey Gaveston. "And

scarcely do I doubt that he will. Shrewd may be his disguise, yet not that,
nor any such false name as he may give, shall deceive me. None who
would seek to enter the lists shall escape close observation. Keen will be
my eyes on that occasion, and if I should perceive one who would appear to
be that daring and insolent robber who has so long, defied the--"
Excitement and rage choked his voice. He ground his teeth, and clenched
his hands until the nails bit into the flesh. "It is well," he added, clapping
Piers Bolingbroke on the shoulder. "I have given my command, so go now
about your business. The contest will be on next Wednesday, which is a
week from to-day. Do for me the writing of the proclamation, and to see to
the distribution of them. And fail not to have half-a-dozen at the least put
up in the forest, along such roads as travellers do pass by."
"My liege lord shall be trustily obeyed," declared the man-at-arms. "The
trap shall duly be set!"
And with that he strode off towards the guard-house, while the sheriff
walked slowly back with the hope of revenge burning like a fever in his
heart.
Robin Hood Decides to go to the Tournament
Little John had gone forth on the chase that morning, as the larder was
running low; but it was no burden of venison that he bore when he broke
from cover late in the afternoon, and came across the glade with weary
steps. Robin Hood rose from the grass, where he had been taking his ease
with many of the band around him.
"What has the fellow got?" he asked, in a puzzled tone.
"'Tis neither flesh nor fowl," replied Friar Tuck. "And yet sorely do we
need meat!"
"From the look of the thing," said Allan-a-Dale, "it might be a King's
proclamation!"
As Little John approached the group it was seen that his expression was
sour, and that he had under his arm a sheet of stiff parchment that was
roughly framed.
"Naught do I bring for the stomach," he grumbled. "The red-deer have been
frightened to far parts of the forest, and not one did I even glimpse. But as I
was returning I stumbled by chance upon this, hanging from a tree at the
edge of a road that runs from Nottingham. And hither I fetched it on an
impulse!"
With that he held the parchment up to view, and his companions crowded
forward to read what was written on it.
One or two of the women laughed, and vowed that Little John should have
spared himself the trouble of carrying so worthless a burden. Robin Hood
also laughed,, but it was not in jest.
"The signature of my enemy, the Sheriff of Nottingham!" he murmured.

"He doth proclaim an archery tournament to be given in the grounds of his
dwelling, and a prize of a golden chain to the winner. This does interest me
much. To-day is Saturday, and the contest is to be on Wednesday next. I am
in the mind to be of those who will compete for the prize!"
"You speak not in earnest, surely?" said Maid Marian, with an anxious
look.
"Never more so, sweet mistress," her husband replied. "They are not idle
words. I may say without boasting that there is not in England a man who
can excel me in skill with the bow. The fancy has taken me to wear around
my neck this chain of gold which Lanfrey Gaveston has offered, so I shall
go to his castle on the appointed day, and I will wager a purse of gold
against a groat that I do carry off the prize. I shall enter the lists in disguise,
and in a name that is known to none!"
"Nay, put aside this folly," begged Maid Marian. "It may cost you your
freedom. I greatly fear that you will come not back!"
"Be not so rash, master," urged Dickon, the chief's faithful servant. "I, too,
have fears for your safety."
"It would, indeed, be a rash venture," protested Will Scarlet. "Why take
such a risk for a paltry chain?"
"He will court certain disaster, to my mind," said Little John. "I feel that the
sheriff, knowing our leader to be proud of his skill in archery, has devised
the tournament as a trap for him. Else why would the proclamation be hung
so far in the greenwood?"
Others spoke in the same strain. Not one, in fact, but tried to dissuade
Robin Hood. It was breath wasted on him, however. He listened to what
they had to say, and laughed lightly when they had finished.
"It would show a cowardly spirit if I were to hold aloof," he declared. "And
why should I? Whether or not Lanfrey Gaveston has planned the contest as
a trap that I am to be lured into, be assured that my disguise will protect
me.
The Mysterious Archer
Simon Lancaster's features were bronzed and weather-beaten, and at his

side was a leather-wallet such as was carried in those days by vagrants who
tramped the highways of England. He was led at once to the sheriff, who,
for a space scrutinised him keenly and in silence. The archery tournament
was now almost ready to commence.
"So you would compete for the prize," he said at length.
"Ay, such is my purpose," the stranger replied.
"I know you not. Who are you?"
"My name is Simon Lancaster, and I am a soldier by profession. I have

fought in the Holy Land with the Crusaders, and have slain many Saracens
with my bow. In these times of peace I have naught to do but roam the
country, living as best I can. And thus it befell that I saw your
proclamation, and did come hither in the hope of winning the chain of gold,
since I have some skill in archery."
"It is well, my good fellow. You shall take your chance with the others."
"I thank you, my lord."

And with that Simon Lancaster turned away, walking slowly and gravely as
if trouble weighed on his mind. Those of the competitors who were
standing near were inclined to laugh at him, judging that he would prove to
be no formidable opponent. As for the sheriff's men-at-arms, not to one of
them did it occur that this shabby fellow might be the famous robber of
Sherwood Forest in disguise. And farthest than any from suspicion, was
Lanfrey Gaveston, who was in moody spirits. His expectations had been
dwindling, and he had about come to the conclusion that his trap would be
a failure.
"By the mass, I fear me I shall have my trouble for nothing," he said in a
sour tone to Piers Bolingbroke, "and shall be put to the expense of a
gold-chain for which here will be no return. 'Tis certain that the knave
Hood is not yet present at the gathering, and therefore, he is not likely to
come. He is afraid. Bold though he is in the forest, he dares not to venture
near my dwelling. But the hour has arrived," he added: "There will be no
more to enter the lists, so now let the sport begin, and I will seek what
solace I can from watching it."
There was a stir and a spreading air of expectation, as the sheriff, in his
gorgeous robes of office, strode with pompous state to the big chair that
had been placed for him in a commanding position. Here he seated himself,
and to right and left of him assembled his soldiers, and the competitors, and
a number of persons of distinction, who had been invited to witness the
tournament. In front of them was a stretch of level sward, and on the farther
side of it the target had been erected. A pretty picture it all was, with the
sun shining on the open, and the foliage of the trees drooping over the
spectators in their bright-coloured garments.
A herald, standing by the side of Lanfrey Gaveston, called the name of

Ralph de Montfort; and there stepped to. the front a sturdy, bearded man, a
squire of the neighbourhood who was noted for his skill with the bow.
Right well did he shoot with the three arrows that were allowed to him,
planting one in the bullseye, and the other two within a couple of inches of
the first. There were murmurs of approval as he gave way to the second
competitor, who showed rather less skill.
So it went on for a time, man after man seeking to win the prize, while an
attendant plucked the arrows from the target."
"An hour had elapsed, and a knight in black was so far to be regarded as the
winner, since he had shot two arrows into the very centre of the target, and
a third into the next ring. The herald glanced at his written list, on which
remained but one name that had not been called.
"It is the turn of Simon Lancaster," he announced.
"The bronzed and shabby soldier, who had been quietly looking on, came
to the edge of the sward and saluted the sheriff. Somebody made a low jest
at his patched eye, and the knight in black, who counted the golden chain to
be as good as his, smiled conplacently. Yet there was something in Simon
Lancaster's bearing that impelled respect. Every gaze was fixed upon him,
and every eye followed the fleet course of his first arrow as he loosed his
bow.
Simon Lancaster's Story
Straight and true to the centre of the target flew Robin Hood's arrow.
"'Tis not at all bad," commented Piers Bolingbroke.
Again the bow was curved, and a second feathered shaft went flashing to
the target, and struck exactly where the first was lodged.
"By my halidom!" ejaculated the sheriff.
There was tense, hushed silence now. The soldier his features void of
emotion, was once more drawing his bow The cord twanged, and the arrow
sped so unerringly that it buried itself within a fraction of an inch of the
other two The three shafts had been planted together in the middle of the
bullseye, and it was such a feat as none had ever witnessed before.
"Lancaster, wins!" cried a score of voices. Lancaster wins!"

There was cheering and shouting, and clapping of hands; and the knight in
black, to his credit, applauded as loudly as did any. But when the tumult
had faded there was a plain look of suspicion on Lanfrey Gaveston's face.
He got up from his chair, and paced to and fro, his eyes bent searchingly on
the successful competitor.
"By the rood, I am sorely puzzled, he said in a low tone to Piers

Bolingbroke. I should not have believed that there was one in the length
and breadth of the land, save Robin Hood, who could handle the bow as
this fellow has done."
The words reached Simon Lancaster's ears. For an instant a shade of alarm
crossed his countenance, and then he stepped forward to the sheriff, and
touched his shabby hat.
"It may please you, my lord," he said, "to hear how my skill did once save
my life."
"And how was that?" Lanfrey Gaveston coldly asked.
"It was in the Holy Land," was the reply. "I had been captured by the
Saracens, and taken before their great chief Saladin, who had ordered my
head to be struck off. But after he had thus spoken he learned that I had
slain six of his men in battle with my arrows, and so, being in a light mood,
he pointed to five birds that were winging overhead, and vowed that if I
could kill them all I should be set free.
"And you did it?"
"Ay my lord. All five of the birds did I bring to earth, and they fell at
spaces of three yards apart. And so pleased was Saladin that he gave me
food and drink, and sent me back to the camp of the Crusaders.
All had been listening to this marvellous tale, and there were none who
doubted it, after what they had seen done with their own eyes. The sheriff's
suspicions had been banished, and his face lit up with admiration.
"An archer of rare skill thou art indeed," he declared. "It has been a
pleasure to me to witness thy feat. You have won the prize, my good
fellow, and right well do you deserve it."
- And with that he took the golden chain from the herald and hung it about
the neck of Simon Lancaster, who thanked him warmly for the honour. He
then slung his bow on his back, and tightened the straps of his quiver.
"If you please, my lord sheriff, I will now depart, he said "I go my way
towards London town, and I would cover some miles ere I lie me down to
sleep at nightfall.
But he was not suffered to go without an additional honour. There was

more applause, and Piers Bolingbroke and others of the men-at-arms laid
hands on Simon Lancaster, and hoisted him to their shoulders. And thus
they bore him, followed by a cheering throng, beyond the castle grounds,
and a space farther to the borders of the forest, where they put him on his
feet and wished him a safe journey. Here they left him, but as they were
retracing their steps they were checked by a peal of laughter. They turned to
stare at the soldier, who had paused at the edge of the greenwood. Loud he
laughed for a moment, and then he whipped off his hat and plucked the
patch from his eye.
Robin Hood as the Shabby Soldier
"Stupid varlets that you are!" he cried. "Do you know me now? Ay, I
perceive that you do. Cunning your master may be, yet. I have bearded him
in his very home! Tell him that Robin Hood has enjoyed his visit, and that
he thanks him for the golden chain, which he will keep always in memory
of this day. And if he chooses to return my visit, he shall have such
hospitality as he has extended to me. And so farewell!"
Again the merry outlaw laughed, then took to his heels and vanished in the
thickets. To give chase to him would have been useless, as the men-at-arms
knew. Having looked at one another in stupefaction for a moment, they ran
back with all speed to the scene of the tournament, where the sheriff, was
conversing with his guests. And as he listened to the tale that Piers
Bolingbroke poured excitedly into his ears, the veins on his forehead stood
out like cords, and his eyes-flamed like coals of fire. He was at first
speechless with rage and chagrin. He danced like a madman, tearing at his
hair, and fairly foaming at the mouth.
"A murrain on you, dolts!" he spluttered. "Did I not bid you inquire closely
into all who entered the lists? So Simon Lancaster was that knave, Robin
Hood! He has defied and derided me under my very nose, and made me
look a sorry figure. He walked into my trap, and he has walked out again.
And he has carried off my golden chain to flaunt in the faces of his
fellow-rogues! My blood boils at the thought! I fear I shall die of the rage
he hath caused me. May the powers of evil lay hold of the presumptuous
cur! May his body shrivel and his bones rot, and his----"
Lanfrey Gaveston paused abruptly. He drew a deep breath, and struck his
hand to his brow. "By my halidom, it may be possible for us to intercept the
varlet!" he cried. "He will go by the usual way towards the heart of the
forest, and there is a short cut we may take by crossing the hill. Ay there is
a chance! Come, Bolingbroke! Come, all of you! Be quick! Let us hasten!
If so be as we can catch the knave, you shall have feast this night as you
have never feasted before!"
As the sheriff spoke he flung off his robe of office and whipped his blade
from its scabbard. And away he went as fast as he could tear, with his
men-at-arms trailing after him.
The Capture of Robin Hood
Shrewd though Robin Hood was, he had in this instance made a mistake. It
did not occur to him that he had been imprudent in revealing his identity so
soon, nor did it enter his head that he might be intercepted. He was in the
highest spirits. Now whistling, and now singing a stave of a song, he went
on his way at none too brisk a pace. And now and again he chuckled, and
held his sides, as he thought of the rare sport he had had, and pictured the
rage the Sheriff of Nottingham must be in.
"Truly a merry time I have had," he said to himself. "I shall enjoy the
telling of it to my comrades to-night."
When he had put a mile behind him, and was drawing near to the spot
where he expected to find his faithful servant Dickon waiting for him, the
rough path that he was following, skirted the base of a low hill. And here it
was that the trap was sprung suddenly upon him. He stopped short, staring
in consternation, as Lanfrey Gaveston and his soldiers rose from the
thickets to right and left of him. He had no chance to realise his danger, or
to draw a weapon. His enemies closed around him, and in a trice he was in
a whirl of conflict.
Robin Hood is Captured
"By the mass, thou art undone this time!" cried the sheriff, who was
holding aloof from the fight. "'Tis useless to resist! My dungeon yawns for
you, knave!"
And so it was to be, in spite of brave Robin Hood's valour and strength. The
famous robber had been caught at last, and great was Lanfrey Gaveston's
joy.
The sound of the brawl had drawn Dickon, and from behind a tree he had
witnessed the capture of his master. It was not from cowardice that he
remained in hiding. Knowing that he could render no assistance, and that it
would be better for him to keep his freedom, he waited until the sheriff and
his men had departed with their prisoner. And then, with a heavy heart, he
set off through the forest,"
"It is sad news that I must tell," he reflected. "Yet my comrades will not be
content to let the matter rest. Action they will take, and that promptly."
As for Robin Hood, his stout courage did not fail him, though he was aware
that he was in the power of a bitter and relentless foe. Hope of rescue he
clung to, not doubting that his band would soon learn of his mishap, and
that they would make every effort to set him free. He blamed himself for
carelessness, however, and keen was his humiliation as he was led in fetters
through a jeering crowd in the castle grounds, and thence into the spacious
dwelling where he was held for a little time in the dining-chamber while a
slab of stone was raised on one end from the floor, disclosing to view a
square opening. Into this the captive was lowered by a rope, and let down
to the far bottom of a dungeon that was damp and slimy, and reeked of evil
smells.
From above Lanfrey Gaveston leered horribly at him, grasping in one hand
a lighted candle. All the venom of his nature found play in words. He shook
his fist and gritted his teeth, and poured forth abuse in language of the
vilest.
"You scum of the earth!" he went on. "Knave and boaster! What think you
of yourself now? I have crushed your pride, and I'll have you whining for
mercy ere long. But none you'll get from me! You shall lie where you are
as long as it suits my pleasure, with rats for company, and mouldy bread to
eat, and putrid water to drink. And when there is scarcely breath in your
body, I'll haul you forth, and hang you from a gallows before the eyes of all
the people of Nottingham! By the mass, I swear it!
Thus the sheriff continued, growing more and more abusive until his voice
had sunk to a croak. And then he dropped the slab of stone to its place, and
rose to his feet. He strode to and fro in a fever of elation, wagging his head
at his men-at-arms.
"This is a day to be remembered," he declared. "In very truth it was an

inspiration that had me proclaim the archery tournament. Go forth now to
the town, and make it known that Robin Hood lies in my dungeon. And
when the day is over assemble here for the feast that I did promise. I will
keep my word, cost what it may. Nobly you shall eat and drink in
celebration of this event, which has made my heart to rejoice."
How the Band Received the News of their Leader's Capture

At a late hour that night, while Lanfrey Gaveston and his retainers were
feasting right royally in the castle, and shouting ribald jests to Robin Hood
who lay beneath them, Dickon trudged slowly and wearily into the camp in
the depths of Sherwood Forest. Not one of the band had gone to bed.
Anxiety and suspense had kept them up and awake and when they saw the
servant to be alone, by the bright flare of the full moon that was swimming
in a cloudless sky, they knew that their worst apprehensions were to be
realised! They flocked around Dickon, who told his story in a few words.
"Alas he is taken!" he blurted out. "They have caught my beloved master! I

know not how it happened, but by some means his identity must have been
learned after the tournament was over, and he had departed. Be that as it
may, he had got almost to the spot where I was to meet him when he fell
into a trap set by the sheriff and his men. A lusty fight he made in truth. But
against such odds he had no chance. They fell upon him, and bound him,
and carried him off. And he now lies in Lanfrey Gaveston's dungeon, which
must be a terrible place indeed from what I have heard of it."
Almost in silence were the tidings at first received. There was only a
subdued murmur of voices, so startled were the outlaws by the fate of their
leader. And as they were shaking their heads, and glancing at one another,
the stupefaction that had fallen upon Maid Marian found vent in a burst of
tears. Her distress was pitiful. She ran wildly to and fro, wringing her
hands.
"Oh, my Robin!" she sobbed. "My dear Robin. I truly feared this evil. I
warned him, and pleaded with him, trusting that my love would keep him
from folly. Yet he would not heed. Straight he went to the tournament,
which was nought but a trap. And now he is in the power of the wicked
sheriff, who may put him to death. My heart is breaking. I shall pine and
die of grief unless----"
She darted to the servant and shook him by the arm.
"A coward you are!" she raved. "How could you lurk in hiding, and lift no
hand to help your master? For shame! I wonder you dare show your face
here!"
"Nay, I am no coward!" protested Dickon. "Gladly would I have joined in

the fight had it been of advantage to do so. But I, too, should have been
caught, and I judged it wiser to return right speedily with the news."
"It was for the best, I doubt not. I wronged you, good lad. I crave pardon
for my hasty words."
"They are forgotten, mistress. No ill-feeling have I."
The servant's explanation was approved by all. Maid Marian fell to

weeping more violently, and while Helen and Alfreda were trying to
comfort her there rang an angry clamour that awoke the birds in their nests
and startled the deer in distant coverts. The band had been stirred to hot
wrath, and were ripe for any venture, hazardous though it might be.
"Listen, comrades!" beseeched Allan-a-Dale, when the tumult had partly

subsided. "There is no man of you so deep in Robin Hood's debt as am I.
But for his kindness I should be lonely and broken hearted, and my sweet
wife would be wedded to the Baron Fitzurse. I declare, therefore, that he
shall be set at liberty if I have to storm the castle single-handed!"
"You will lack not for followers!" vowed Little John. "I do offer for the
same service!!"
"And I, too!" spoke up Will Scarlett. "I swear by the rood that not for
another night shall our brave Robin lie in the sheriff's dark dungeon!"
They were all of the same mind, eager for the fray. Even Friar Tuck was
roused to a heat of passion.
"You will go not without me!" he declared, as he tucked his gown to his
knees and tightened it at the waist. "I am by trade a man of peace and
religion, yet in this case I will be a man of battle. Give me quarterstaff and
crossbow, I pray you, and I will show you that I can use them well. I will
eat not, nor will I taste of wine, till Robin be freed. To the fight, comrades!
To the rescue of our leader!"
"To the rescue!" one and all shouted. "To the rescue of Robin Hood!"
Maid Marian had been consoled as she listened. Hope shone in her eyes,
though tears were still streaming down her cheeks.
"Loyal friends my husband has indeed!" she cried, stretching out her arms.
"Save him from his cruel enemy! Bring him back to me! Go to the rescue,
and my blessing go with you! Let no peril, no force of numbers, keep you
from the dungeon where my dear Robin lies in misery.! You have cheered
my sad heart, and with fortitude I will await your return, believing that you
will not fail!"
"That we shall not, be assured!" replied Allan-a-Dale.
There was no thought of failure, such was the spirit of the band. They knew
that it would be a vastly different affair from anything they had heretofore
undertaken, yet they shrank not from it, nor would they brook any delay.
Hastily they made their preparations, and in half an hour, before any
glimmer of dawn had appeared, they set forth with confidence towards the
town of Nottingham. And at their head marched Allan-a-Dale, eager for
this opportunity of requiting the debt he owed to Robin Hood. They melted
into the forest, leaving only the women behind them in the camp.
PART FOUR
Robin is Liberated
There were two things that were strongly in favour of the outlaws, and they
had given consideration to the one, which was that Lanfrey Gaveston's
castle lay a space beyond the town, and in the direction of the greenwood,
so that it could be approached without attracting observation. As for the
other, the sheriff and his retainers had so heavily gorged themselves with
meat and drink at the night's banquet that in the early dawn they had
succumbed, and had fallen from their chairs to the floor. And there they
were still sprawled in a drunken sleep, snoring amidst a litter of wine-cups,
and flagons, and scraps of food, when the invaders appeared in the grounds
towards the hour of eleven o'clock in the morning.
The first intimation of danger was a trumpet-blast, that was heard by the
captive lying awake in his dungeon, and caused some of the sleepers above
to stir and mutter. And next there burst into the room, in hot haste, a
servant, who was in such a state of fright and. agitation that at first he could
only bawl incoherently. So lusty an alarm did he raise, however, that the
drink-sodden men-at-arms scrambled, sober, to their feet. And Lanfrey
Gaveston, rising with them, dropped a rough hand on the bellowing man's
shoulder.
"What ails thee, varlet?" he demanded. "Find tongue, and be quick about it!
Is there a fire in the place?"
"Nay, master; it is worse!" gasped the servant. "The outlaws of Sherwood

Forest are upon us! They have come to rescue their leader!"
"It is impossible, you fool! Tell me not such a wild tale!"
"Nay, it is the truth! There are many of them, and they are garbed in
Lincoln green!"
The sheriff was still incredulous. He could not believe such a thing. He
sped to the window-slit, however, and stood there for a moment staring in
consternation, and rubbing his eye's as if he doubted if he were yet fully
awake.
"By my halidom, it is indeed the truth!" he cried, as he spun round and

snatched a weapon from the wall. "Robin Hood's band are here in force, on
my own ground! They are advancing over the open, with plain intent to
attack! Never, I do vow, have I known insolence to be carried so far! But
they shall rue their presumption! Come, my trusty men, let us have at these
rogues, and send them to join their leader! Thus will Sherwood be rid of a
pest!"
The retainers were so startled by the news that they lost their wits, and were
nearly thrown into a panic. They ran to and fro in confusion, stumbling
over chairs, and seeking for their scattered weapons. There was some delay
before they were finally routed out of the chamber by Lanfrey Gaveston,
and by then the band of outlaws had got across the open sward, and were
assaulting the big door that was the main entrance to the castle.
Jutting angles of the wall to right and left afforded them some protection
and while arrows whizzed about them, doing little or no harm, they
uprooted several massive posts, and took to using these as battering-rams.
"Now, strike well and lustily!" bade Allan-a-Dale, who was the most
energetic of all. "Strike for Robin Hood! Let nothing daunt you! Give these
villains a lesson which will be a warning to them in the future! Strike!
Strike!"
It was smashing work, and speedy. In such mood were the forest rovers that
if half of their number had been slain the rest would have fought on with
undampened ardour.
Amidst a shrill and deafening clamour, the heavy posts were sent crashing
against the door, harder and harder, faster and faster, until the timbers
bulged apart and the nails started from the hinges.
This progress being observed from within, the sheriff called to him his men
from loopholes and window-slits, and mustered them in the big hall, where
they huddled around him like scared sheep.
"The knaves will soon be upon us if we wait!" he Cried. "It were better to
vanquish them in the open, so let us sally forth with stout hearts! I shall
lead, and if any one of you skulk behind I'll hang him from a gallows-tree!
A blast from my horn will be the signal, and as soon as you hear it----"
But no chance did Lanfrey Gaveston have to blow his horn, for even as he
spoke the shattered door collapsed under the storm of blows, and fell with a
shuddering crash. And in a trice Allan-a-Dale and his gallant followers
were over the debris and charging against the sheriff and his retainers, who
were taken by surprise.
Their resistance was stubborn, however, and for some little time there was
waged in the hall a most desperate battle. But the invaders gained ground
inch by inch, and in the end they drove the enemy before them into the
great dining-chamber, where another desperate struggle ensued.
"Rally, men -- rally!" Lanfrey Gaveston shouted in a rage. Will you be put
to shame by these varlets?"
A quarterstaff rapped him on the skull, and he pitched to the floor. His
men-at-arms now lost heart. Some of them had been knocked down and
stunned, and the others suddenly yielded their arms. The fight was over,
and meanwhile the sheriff had come to his senses, and was trying to rise.
Little John and Will Scarlett pounced upon him, and while they bound his
wrists Friar Tuck sat upon his stomach and quaffed from a flagon in which
was a measure of wine, left from the feast.
"Good stuff this in, indeed," he declared, smacking his lips, "and better than
we drink in the forest!"
"'Tis no time for guzzling, fat monk!" cried Allan-a-Dale.
With a push he sent friar and flagon flying, and then he jerked Lanfrey
Gaveston to his feet, and pinned him by the throat against the wall, and
fiercely bade him disclose where Robin Hood was to be found.
"You need not seek for him here!" panted the sheriff. "He is a prisoner
yonder in Nottingham Gaol. And if you are in the mind to storm that, go
and try it."
"Liar thou art!" said Allan-a-Dale. "Our leader is in this castle, to a

certainty! Have out with the truth, and be quick about it!"
But Lanfrey Gaveston repeated his assertion, and, for fear of his
displeasure, his men vowed the same when they were questioned.
The outlaws were not convinced, however. They began to search, and as
they were thus engaged in the dining-chamber, one of them perceived the
massive block of stone, that was a part of the floor. It was lifted on end by
means of a ring, and from the black hole beneath it a husky voice rose in
appeal.
"'Tis Robin!" exclaimed Little John. "We have found him!"
The rope was fixed to a hook at the side of the opening, and the other end
of it was still noosed under Robin Hood's shoulders. So he was speedily
drawn up from the dungeon, where he had been for less than the space of a
day, and was thus hardly any the worse for his confinement.
But hot was his wrath at the indignity he had suffered; and when his
delighted comrades had severed the cords that bound his limbs, and he had
given them greeting, he walked unsteadily over to the sheriff and shook his
fist under his nose.
"Much have I borne from you!", he cried, "In a foul hole thou hast kept me,
as if I had been a dog, aim I shall repay you in kind! A lesson you shall
have that you will remember!"
"Deliver him to us," urged Allan-a-Dale, "and we will beat him with staves
until he howls for mercy!"
"If you will let me have my way with him," spoke up Will Scarlett, "I will
hang him from one of his own battlements! In very truth he deserves to
die!"
"Nay, not one nor the other will you do to him!" vowed Robin Hood. "His
punishment shall be to my own taste. Let the wicked rogue be thrust into
the dungeon, and when we depart we will take his retainers with us, and
will cover over the slab with a carpet, so that he will lie yonder until it suits
my pleasure to have him released."
These instructions were promptly obeyed. In spite of threats and curses,

Lanfrey Gaveston's limbs were bound, and the rope was made fast to him,
and he was lowered through the hole in the floor. The stone fell with a thud,
and a carpet was flung upon it. Preparations for departure were then made,
and when the outlaws withdrew they led with them as captives every one of
the sheriff's men-at-arms and servants, leaving not a living soul behind
them in the castle. Across the grounds they marched in triumph, and into
the greenwood, while yet the people of Nottingham were ignorant of the
daring deed that had been done.
Robin Hood's Triumphant Return to His Camp
The shades of evening were gathering when the merry band reached their
camp in the far depths of the forest, and there was then such a scene here as
had never been witnessed before. Maid Marian flew to her husband's arms,
and Allan-a-Dale embraced his wife, and there was cheering and shouting
that made the welkin ring; while Lanfrey Gaveston's retainers stood by
fuming in impotent rage.
"And now let us feast," said Robin Hood, when the clamour had died away.
"This is an event worthy to be celebrated. I bid you see to what is needful,
good monk," he added.
"Gladly will I do your bidding," replied Friar Tuck, as he patted his

stomach. "Ay, and with all haste, for I am thirsting and famished."
Long was the revelry kept up that night. Under the boughs of the trees, by
the light of torches, there was eating and drinking without stint, and
laughter and chatter that kept the birds awake.
Eagerly the women listened to the tale of the conquest of the castle, and
Friar Tuck boasted of the part he had taken in the fight, until he fell beneath
the table, and lay there snoring.
As for the prisoners, they had no cause to complain of their treatment on

this merry occasion. They had their share of meat and drink, and early m
the morning, after they had slept for a couple of hours, bandages were
bound tightly over their eyes, and they were led forth to a distance of a mile
from the camp, when they were released, and told to go their way as best
they could. Yet they were forbidden, under pain of a beating, to lift their
hands to their faces.
It was ludicrous to see them go blundering and stumbling about, and falling
blindly against one another. Thus they groped on for a space, until they
could no longer hear the jeers and laughter of the outlaws. And then, having
ventured to tear the bandages from their eyes, they set off in the direction of
Nottingham.
It was not until the close of the day that the men-at-arms arrived at the
castle, which they found to be deserted. Without delay they lifted the stone
from the floor of the dining-chamber, and the sheriff was drawn up from
the dungeon, chilled to the bone and faint with hunger. He could not speak
at first. While his fetters were being cut he listened to the account that was
poured into his ears, and when he had risen on his cramped limbs and had
drunk a stoup of wine, he roundly abused his retainers for their cowardice,
putting all the blame on them.
He fell at length in to such a towering rage that he could brook nobody near
him. He seized a quarterstaff and drove all from the room, whacking them
without mercy as they fled. And then he paced to and fro in a fever of
passion, grinding his teeth, and rolling his wicked eyes, and smiting his
fists together.
"By my halidom, there must be an end of this!" he raved. "That knave

Hood shall have short shrift, and his fellow-rogues as well! Methinks the
only course left to me is to travel to London, and crave speech with his
Majesty, and acquaint him with the true state of affairs in this part of his
realm. And that I will do, I swear!"
The Sheriff of Nottingham Goes to King Richard
Lanfrey Gaveston was as good as his word. On the morning of the

following day he put on his robes and chains of office, and set forth from
the castle on horseback, with a mounted escort of six of his men-at-arms. It
was a long journey, and another day was nearly over when the party rode
into the town of London, and sought quarters at an inn hard by the Tower.
The next morning the sheriff and his men again got to saddle, and by what
is now the Strand they came to the King's palace at Westminster, where for
a space of several hours they were kept waiting in a courtyard, with nothing
to do but kick their heels.
This treatment Lanfrey Gaveston felt to be a slight to his dignity, and he

was in no amiable mood when an attendant appeared with a sumons for
him. . He entered the palace without his men, and his ruffled temper was
soothed as he passed through corridors and chambers, and so to a great hall,
that was hung with banners and weapons that had done service in the Holy
Land. And here there sat on a throne, surrounded by courtiers, the splendid
figure of Richard the Lion-Hearted, the hero of the Crusades. His crown
was on his head, and his dress was of satin, embroidered with jewels.
"And what would you have of me, Gaveston?" he asked. "What has brought
you from Nottingham?"
"I would have audience of you, sire, concerning one Robin Hood," the
sheriff replied, as he sank to his knee and kissed the King's hand. "He is a
grievous rogue who haunts Sherwood Forest with his band, and doth flout
your Majesty's authority and mine by robbing such travellers as he can
waylay."
"I have had reports of the fellow from you, methinks."

"On more than one occasion, sire, have I written. And now I am come in
person to state my case."
"I will hear you. Put the matter plainly."
Lanfrey Gaveston began, and plainly indeed did he speak, feeling no

timidity in the Royal presence. It might have been supposed, from the
accounts to which the King listened patiently, that never had his laws been
broken by a more wicked and evil-minded villain than Robin Hood. In the
very blackest colours did the sheriff paint the outlaw, telling much of him
that was false, and little or nothing that was true. He was not sparing in his
language, which showed clearly enough that he was animated by personal
hatred.
"To such a pass has it come, sire," he continued, "that the knave's men
should storm and take my castle, and set him free, and that he should cast
me into my own dungeon to lie among the rats--surely such an outrage is
not to be tolerated! To such a heat did it inflame me that I set forth for
London to seek audience of your Majesty. There was naught else for it,
since I had exhausted the resources at my command. At home I have been
sitting helpless, mocked at and derided by the villain who has usurped my
powers."
"And what would you have me do?" inquired King Richard, as ho stroked
his beard.
"My men-at-arms are few in number, sire," Lanfrey Gaveston answered,

"and, therefore, I would urge you to send to Nottingham a force of soldiers
so large that they may surround Sherwood Forest and advance into it until
they have driven Robin Hood and his band into a trap, and so caught them.
And I would also crave of you permission to hang every one of the knaves,
who have by their lawlessness forfeited their lives a hundred times over."
"Methinks, Gaveston, you urge too harsh a treatment."
"Would your Majesty show mercy to such evil rogues?"

"But I have from time to time had reports of this Robin Hood, and what I
have been told of him is more in his favour than against him. I have been
led to take an interest in his doings."
"If you will pardon me, sire, I would bid you believe that what you have
heard is false."
"I am not so sure of that," said the King."I have had it from trusty sources.
It has come to my ears, for one thing, that Robin Hood hath a noble and
kindly disposition."
"On the contrary, his nature is of the meanest, vowed the sheriff. "He would
shrink from no crime."
"I have been informed that he is a person of good birth, and that he was
driven to take refuge in the forest by an excess of zeal on your port in
administering the law."
"Nay, sire, if anything, I was too lax with the rogue. Too long did I permit
him to slay your deer."
"I have been told also, Gaveston, that Robin Hood steals only from the rich,
and that he gives most freely from his stores to the poor."
"It is all false, your Majesty. In very truth the fellow robs whom he can, and
keeps his gold in his purse."
"I have been deceived in all respects, then?"
"You have been, sire," declared Lanfrey Gaveston. "The matter is as I have
put it to you, and therefore I do crave for a force of soldiers to rid the forest
of these grievous pests. And I pray you to let them set forth with me this
very day."
"There is no need for such expedition," replied the King. "I will duly
consider the affair, and you shall have an answer regarding it. And now you
may leave me," he added. "Ride back to Nottingham, and wait in patience."
Thus curtly dismissed, the sheriff kissed his Majesty's hand, and took his
departure in a sour mood, fearing lest he had done more harm than good to
the cause he had pleaded. And so indeed he had. His rancour had been
obvious to King Richard, who was loth to credit the statements that had
been made to him. After the interview was over he sat for a time in deep
thought, now and again nodding his head; and, when at length he rose from
his throne there was a smile of amusement on his lips.
"I will go disguised into Sherwood Forest," he said to himself, "and thus I
shall see with my own eyes, and learn at first bearing, what manner of man
this Robin Hood really is. It will be an adventure to my taste, and the more
so, if there be a spice of danger."
"Father Anselmo" of the Abbey of St. Benet's in Norfolk
There trudged through the town of Nottingham one morning, and thence
into Sherwood Forest, a monk of middle age with a black beard and
moustache. He wore a brown robe and cowl. There were sandals on his
feet, and a shabby wallet hung from his side. As he walked he leaned
heavily on a stick, as if he was tired. He trudged slowly on across the
greenwood until towards the close of the day, when he was pounced upon
by Allan-a-Dale and Will Scarlett, who had noted his approach and lain in
ambush for him.
A Stranger in Sherwood Forest
They were at no great distance from the encampment, as it happened; so

instead of questioning the monk, with a view to judging whether or not he
was a spy, they told him that he was Robin Hood's prisoner, and that he
must come with them. In spite of his protests they led him from his course,
and for the space of a league to the headquarters of the band. And here he
was conducted to the presence of the famous outlaw, who was sprawled on
the grass in a merry mood, laughing and jesting with Maid Marian. He rose
to his feet, and shrewdly looked the captive over.
"Who art thou?" he demanded. "Whence do you come, and whither do you
go?"
"I am Father Anselmo, of the Abbey of St. Benet's, in Norfolk," the monk
replied. "From there have I come, and I go on a pilgrimage into Cheshire to
the shrine of a saint."
"It is a long journey," said Robin Hood, in a kindly tone. "Must you needs
walk?"
"Of a truth I must, since I am very poor. A little store of money I have,
given as alms. And to that you are welcome, if you will let me depart in
peace."
"Nay, keep your money. Rather would I put to it. I rob no man of' religion,
nor any, indeed, save those who can easily spare from their abundance what
I take from them."
"Good, sir, I marvel at your words."
"And how is that, holy father?"
"It is because I have heard different reports of you. I have been told that
you were of a grasping and cruel disposition, and. that you steal from rich
and poor alike."
"It is false!" exclaimed Robin Hood, his eyes flashing with anger. "I doubt
not that such lying tales have been spread broadcast by my enemy, the
Sheriff of Nottingham, and I am sorry to think that they may reach the ears
of King Richard, who hath in all his realm no subject more loyal to him at
heart than myself, outlaw though I may be. But no matter," he added, with a
careless shrug of the shoulders and a sad smile. "Persecution has made me
what I am, and I must expect to be misjudged."
"That you are a robber grieves me sorely," said the monk, "yet henceforth I
will speak in your favour, having learned that rumour has lied concerning
you. And now I will depart, if you will kindly give consent."
"Nay," be not in such haste.
"But I have far to go to an inn, and my feet and body are so weary, that if I
linger for a rest I shall be in no mind. to press on this day."
"The more reason why you should tarry. You shall bide here as my guest,
holy father, and enjoy my hospitality at no expense to yourself, and remain
as long as it suits your pleasure. And perchance will find a horse for you
ere you leave, so that you may journey into Cheshire in comfort."
"You are too generous, good sir. It would be unseemly of me to----"
"Say no more. The obligation will be on my side, in entertaining one who

has such claims on his fellow-men."
No urging was needed to induce Father Anselmo to accept the offer, for
which he warmly expressed his gratitude. He had been hoping, in fact, for
such an opportunity as this.
A Camp Scene in Sherwood
So pleased was the monk, indeed, that as yet he had made no mention of his
departure. He was waiting for a certain thing which he desired, and on the
morning of the fourth day it came to pass. The band were taking their ease
in the shade, and Maid Marian was playing on a harp, when a muffled
clatter of hoofs was heard. Little John and Dickon had been sent forth at an
early hour to keep watch. by one of the forest roads, and they were now
returning with a captive who had fallen into their hands. They were leading
by the bridle a horse on which sat a large and portly man, most
richly-attired, with florid features of an arrogant type. He was protesting in
vehement language, and roundly abusing his captors; and so he continued
until he was brought up to the chief of the outlaws, and there dragged from
the saddle. He was then silent for lack of breath and he stood panting and
puffing while Robin Hood eyed him. with an expression in which
satisfaction could be plainly read.
"By-the mass," he said, "it is indeed a pleasure to me to welcome Sir Giles

Malpard here!"
"You'll sing a different tune shortly, knave of knaves that you are!"
spluttered the prisoner. "Never, I vow, have I been subjected to such an
indignity!"
The two were known to each other. Some of the band also knew Sir Giles
Malpard, and to all of the rest his name was familiar. He was a knight who
dwelt in a castle at a distance of twenty miles, and was possessed of great
wealth.
"A- pretty pass it has come to!" he went on, shaking his fist. "Here am I,
riding through the forest on my business, set upon by two of your evil
varlets! Two fat purses of gold have they taken from me, and they have
forced me to come hither as well!"
"It was done at my bidding," said Robin Hood. "Toll must be paid, and an
account rendered in person, by all travellers who journey through my
domain."
"Your domain!" snorted Sir Giles Malpard. "This is the height of insolence,
forsooth! I'll have you hanged!"
"I doubt not it would please you."
"So it shall be! Too far have you gone this time, thou robber Hood! 'Tis true
that the Sheriff of Nottingham is an imbecile, and that you have held him
up to derision. But when I lay complaint to the King, as I mean to do, he
will send soldiers to make speedy shrift of you and your rogues! Villains of
the blackest dye you all are!"
"Gently, my friend! Gently! To lose your temper can do no good. As for his
Majesty the King, if he were to weigh your deeds and mine in the balance,
it would be you he would be disposed to hang. I, indeed, wish that he could

know you for what you are."
There were murmurs of approval at this. The outlaws were enjoying the
wrath of the haughty knight, and as interested in him as any of the band,
was Father Anselmo. He had drawn close, and for an instant he frowned
when Little John produced the two purses of gold. They were handed to the
chief, who felt their weight, and smiled.
"Am I to be thus plundered?" raved Sir Giles Malpard. "Have you no

respect for the law of the land where so high a personage as myself is
concerned? If you would expect mercy, when the day of reckoning comes,
give me back my money, and suffer me to depart."
"Nay, both I will not do," declared Robin Hood, in a tone that betrayed
sudden anger. "Go your way, but it will be on foot. I have need of your
horse, and greater need of your gold. It will do you no hurt to lose it, Sir
Giles. I know well how it was got. A merciless, grasping landlord you have
been, squeezing the last groat from your tenants. That they have been
turned out with no shelter for their heads, and, perchance, to starve,
mattered nothing to you. The tears of widows and orphans are on your
conscience."
These things were true enough, but the mention of them only enraged the
haughty knight the more.
Further threats and abuse he uttered, and from threats he came at length to
abject begging that he should not be robbed of his precious money. He only
wasted his breath, however. Robin Hood finally cut him short, and bade
him be off. And when Sir Giles Malpard lingered, loth to obey, two of the
outlaws seized him, and hustled him roughly across the glade to the edge of
the cover, into which they thrust him with a kick. They returned laughing,
and, meanwhile, Robin Hood had been calculating the value of the gold
that was in the two purses. He handed one of them to Little John.
"I charge you with this," he said. "It is for the widow Gervase, who lives
beyond the forest at the village of Barly St. Peter, and has seven young
children to feed. Give the money to her with my compliments, and tell her
to share it with such others as may be in need. As for the unworthy knight's
steed----" Robin Hood paused, and turned to the monk. "What I had hopes
of, has befallen, good father," he added. "To you I give this horse, for I
would have you ride into Cheshire in comfort. And, if our company has
become irksome to you, as is possible, you need not tarry with us another
hour."
"Nay, I am not weary," Father Anselmo replied. "I should be hard-pressed

to remember when I have been in better company. But I have stayed longer
than I had meant to, so I will be going posthaste. And most heartily do I
thank you for your hospitality, and for your gracious gift. It may be that I
shall make return in some wise."
"If ever the opportunity should offer, and you would do me a kindness,
speak a good word for me in King Richard's ear."
"That I verily will, if the chance comes. But what kind of a word? Would it
please you to have the ban of outlawry removed?"
"Ay, that is in my mind."
"I will not forget, friend Robin Hood. Be sure of that."
Thus ended Father Anselmo's visit, He mounted astride the knight's horse,
and, with a supply of food in his wallet, amidst a chorus of farewells and
good wishes from Robin Hood and his merry men, he rode across the glade
and into the greenwood.
"A word in the King's ear," he chuckled, as he looked back and waved his
hand. "A rare jest indeed is that!"
Conclusion
There went, deep into Sherwood Forest one day a week after the departure
of the monk, a herald who blew a trumpet so loud, and so frequently, that
he was at length pounced upon by Will Scarlett and Allan-a-Dale, who
marched him off to the encampment and haled him before their leader.
With a flourish, the herald drew from his doublet a roll of parchment, and
handed it to Robin Hood, who perceived, with surprise, the royal seal that
dangled from it. And when he had read what was written on the parchment,
he sprang to his feet, and glanced at his comrades with a flushed and joyful
face.
"In very truth the holy father has had the opportunity we spoke of!" he
cried. "Here is news of the best! A free pardon for all of us, signed by his
Majesty, on the condition that we obey his laws in future! And we are
summoned to appear before him on the morrow at the sheriff's castle at
Nottingham, whither he has journeyed from London. Never have I dared to
hope that such mercy would be shown to----"
Robin Hood's voice choked with emotion. He bared his head, and his
companions did the same; and, with downcast eyes, their hearts filled with
gratitude, they murmured a prayer.
What a surprise was in store for the band may be guessed. Boldly they
presented themselves the next day, one and all, at the sheriff's castle; and
when they were ushered into the royal presence, they saw, with amazement
beyond words, that King Richard was no other than Father Anselmo.
Graciously he received them, and spoke to them both kindly and sternly;
and when they departed, it was with the assurance that such properties as
they had forfeited should be restored to them; and that Lanfrey Gaveston,
for the lies he had told, was to be banished to a distant part of the country.
And thus it happened that Robin Hood returned to his ancestral castle, and
there dwelt happily with his beloved wife, and with the comrades who had
been so devoted to him in the days when they roved the greenwood.
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How does Robin Hood spend his time in the forest?

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Robin Hood and Maid Marian 1

Robin Hood and Maid Marian

I Robin Hood in His Castle

II The Sheriff of Nottingham Arrives to Arrest Robin Hood

III Robin Hood Defies the Sheriff

V Robin Hood Takes to the Forest

VII Allan-a-Dale Speaks His Mind, But is Powerless

VIII Allan-a-Dale's Meeting with Robin Hood's Band

IX How Allan-a-Dale Joined Robin Hood's Band

X How Maid Marian Entered Hardfast's Castle

XI Robin Hood to the Rescue

XII At the Church

XIV Robin Hood Decides to go to the Tournament

XV The Mysterious Archer

XVI Simon Lancaster's Story

XVII The Capture of Robin Hood

XIX Robin is Liberated

XX Robin Hood's Triumphant Return to His Camp

XXI The Sheriff of Nottingham Goes to King Richard

XXII "Father Anselmo" of the Abbey of St. Benet's in Norfolk

ROBIN HOOD AND MAID MARIAN.

The opening Instalment of a SPLENDID SERIAL STORY founded on the

ROBIN HOOD, the Chief of the Rovers

HARDFAST, a Saxon Baron

MAID MARIAN, the Daughter of a Minstrel

HELEN, his Daughter Hunchback

FITZURSE, a Norman Baron

THE SHERIFF OF NOTTINGHAM

KING RICHARD THE LION-HEARTED

Robin Hood in His Castle

"I do not know, Robin. My father needs me."

"I go where you bid," Maid Marian whispered.

"What's this?" he exclaimed. "A Royal proclamation! It is forbidden under

"Bravo!" cried the girl. " fine shot!"

"By my halidom, can insolence go farther?" he muttered. "Under my very

The Sheriff of Nottingham Arrives to Arrest Robin Hood

"The Sheriff of Nottingham is without, master," he announced, "and he

"Nay; I'll offer no friendship to my enemy, which he has foolishly chosen

"No, no, Robin! For my sake do not----"

Robin Hood Defies the Sheriff

"Why have I been kept waiting, knave?" he demanded, in a voice that

"I am entertaining guests," Robin Hood answered pleasantly, "and I could

"Nay, impudent fellow! This is a summons for you to dwell in my dungeon,

he sat down to the table, and filled a cup with sack.

"Ah, yonder is the knave, the Sheriff of Nottingham cried!" as he perceived

"My next arrow will be for your heart."

On the following morning, a couple of hours after sunrise, the blast of a

"'Tis a goodly muster," he murmured.

Robin Hood Takes to the Forest

"Let me comfort you," she whispered.

"Does my love count for nothing?"

"I understand. You are loth to depart."

"Ay, more loth than I can tell you."

"Have at them!" he shouted again and again. Have at the knaves!"

The Attack on Robin Hood's Castle