<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></SPAN>CHAPTER XXXII</h2>
<p>A searching rain continued all that night. They well expected to find
the Sheriff and his army encamped against them on the morrow.</p>
<p>Strangely enough, the morning showed the countryside quiet and peaceful
as of old. Monceux and his fellows, if there, were well hid
indeed—nothing might be seen of them.</p>
<p>From the castle battlements, afar off, mysterious under grey opaque
morning, lay Nottingham. The old town seemed to be yet asleep; but there
was plenty of movement within its gates for all that. A messenger had
come out hastily to Monceux, even while he and Carfax had been
perfecting details of the siege which they intended to apply to the
knight's castle. This man brought the Sheriff news of such moment as to
cause him to give up the hope of catching Robin without another effort.
My lord of Hereford had had the news from York—he had sped it to
Monceux: "The King is abroad; take care of thyself."</p>
<p>That was the item even as it had come in to Prince John from his cousin
Philip of France: "The King is abroad."</p>
<p>Richard of England, the Lion Heart, he whom all thought to be safely out
of the country—some said in a foreign prison, others that he was
fighting the paynims in the Holy Land. In any case, he had returned, and
now all such as the Sheriff and the Bishop of Hereford must put their
houses in order, and say, once and for all, that they would be loyal and
faith<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_330" id="Page_330"></SPAN></span>ful and plot no more with fickle princes behind their true King's
back.</p>
<p>Sir Richard of the Lee, whose son had so lately come home to his
father's castle, could, an he had liked, have explained much to them. He
knew that the King was in England; for had he not but a few hours since,
parted from him with a pardon in his hand and happiness in his heart?</p>
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<p>Friar Tuck, having been forced to run all night in order that he might
be able to bring the news as to Little John in to Robin, had compensated
himself for the loss of his repose by lying abed the better part of the
next day. Stirring things were going forward in the old city of
Nottingham, as we know; but only at dusk, when all was over and Robin
and them all were safely lodged in Sir Richard's stronghold, did the
worthy friar open his little wicket gate and remember him of his fasting
dogs.</p>
<p>He fed them and passed the remaining hours of day in putting them
through their tricks; then, feeling that he had well earned a good meal,
the friar took out some sumptuous fare from his larder and arranged it
conveniently upon the small wooden bench in his cell. He then lit a
taper, as the night was at hand, bolted and barred his door, and drew
his seat close to the promising board.</p>
<p>He uprolled his eyes, and had commenced a Latin grace, when suddenly
came interruption unpleasant and alarming. One of his dogs began to
bark, deeply and resentfully. The others followed him in the same note,
changing the calm stillness of the night into discordant, frenzied
clamor. "Now,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_331" id="Page_331"></SPAN></span> who, in the name of all the saints, cometh here?"
exclaimed Tuck, wrathfully, proceeding to bundle his supper back into
the small larder. "May perdition and all the furies grant that he may
evermore know the pangs of an empty stomach!"</p>
<p>His pious wishes were rudely interrupted by a loud knocking upon the
door of his hermitage. "Open, open!" cried a strident voice.</p>
<p>"I have no means of helping you, poor traveller," roared the friar. "Go
your way into Gamewell, 'tis but a few miles hence upon a straight
road."</p>
<p>"I will not stir another yard," said the voice, determinedly; "open your
door, or I will batter it down with the hilt of my sword."</p>
<p>The priest then, with anger glowing in his eyes, unbarred the door, and
flung it open. Before him stood the figure of a knight, clad in black
armor and with vizor down.</p>
<p>The Black Knight strode into the friar's cell without waiting for
invitation.</p>
<p>"Have you no supper, brother?" asked the knight, curtly. "I must beg a
bed of you this night, and fain would refresh my body ere I sleep."</p>
<p>"I have naught but half of mine own supper to offer you," replied Tuck;
"a little dry bread and a pitcher of water."</p>
<p>"Methinks I can smell better fare than that, brother;" and the Black
Knight offered to look into the larder.</p>
<p>This was more than Tuck could bear, so he caught up his staff and flung
himself before his guest in a threatening attitude. "Why, then, if you
<i>will</i>," cried the knight, and he struck the priest smartly with the
flat of his sword.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_332" id="Page_332"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>The friar put down his staff. "Now," said he, with meaning, "since you
have struck me we will play this game to a fair finish. Wherefore, if
you are a true knight, give me your pledge that you will fight me on
to-morrow morn with quarter-staff until one of us shall cry 'Enough.'"</p>
<p>"With all my soul," cried the knight, readily. "And will give more
knocks than ever you have given your dogs."</p>
<p>"One gives and takes," retorted Tuck, sententiously; "put up your sword
and help me to lay supper, for I am passing hungry."</p>
<p>They spread the supper table between them, and once again the friar sat
down hopefully. He spoke his grace with unction, and was surprised to
hear his guest echo the Latin words after him. The knight unlaced his
helm and took it off. He appeared as a bronzed and bearded man,
stern-looking and handsome.</p>
<p>They then attacked the venison pasty right valiantly, and pledged each
other in a cup of wine. The good food and comfort warmed them both, and
soon they were at a gossip, cheerful and astounding. So they passed the
time until the hour grew late; and both fell asleep together, almost in
their places, by the despoiled supper table.</p>
<p>In the morning they breakfasted on the remains, and then they washed
their faces in the jumping brook. The knight told the priest that he had
left his companions at Locksley on the previous evening. He asked so
many questions as to Robin Hood and his men that the priest had to fence
very skilfully.</p>
<p>If the knight had been in a hurry before he seemed now to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_333" id="Page_333"></SPAN></span> have changed
his mind. He said that he would wait for his companions, if the priest
could bear with him, and Friar Tuck, having taken a great liking to this
genial traveller, made no complaint.</p>
<p>"I must presently journey forth to visit a poor man who lieth on a sick
bed," said the friar, thinking of Robin.</p>
<p>"Mayhap we may travel together?" suggested the knight. "I am going, so
soon as friends have found me, into Gamewell."</p>
<p>"I go into Barnesdale," said Tuck, quickly, "which is in quite another
direction."</p>
<p>At last the knight said he must go on, with or without his fellows, and
he took up his sword. The friar then got out two quarter-staves, full
nine feet long. Without a word he handed one to the knight.</p>
<p>He took it, and eyed the friar whimsically; then, seeing no sign of
relenting in him, shrugged his shoulders. He put off his helm again, and
both going out to the little glade by the ruined shrine of St. Dunstan,
they prepared for a bout with the staves.</p>
<p>For all his plumpness Tuck was no mean opponent at the game. He skipped
and flourished about and around the knight in a surprising way; and gave
him at last such a crack upon his crown as made the tears start.</p>
<p>Then the Black Knight struck in mighty wrath, and soon the blows of
their staves were making the welkin ring. So busy they were as to give
no heed of the approach of a goodly company of men.</p>
<p>It was Sir Richard of the Lee, with his son and retinue, journeying in a
roundabout way in order to throw Monceux<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_334" id="Page_334"></SPAN></span> off the scent, and so give
Robin a chance to reach his stronghold in Barnesdale. Both knights
paused in amazement to see this furious combat.</p>
<p>At last the Black Knight brought down his staff with a noise like
felling timber upon the shoulder of the priest. Tuck staggered, and
dropped his staff. "Enough, enough," he cried; then fell in a heap upon
the wet grass.</p>
<p>The knight flung away his staff and ran to help him. He lifted up the
priest's head and put it on his knee. Glancing up, he espied them all
staring at him. "Run, one of you, and bring me some water."</p>
<p>Sir Richard of the Lee started when he heard that voice. He turned to
his son, but already the young man had doffed his helm and was filling
it with water from the brook. He brought it quickly to the Black Knight,
and, offering it, kneeled before him in deepest respect and affection.</p>
<p>"I thank you, child," spoke the Black Knight, graciously. "See, this
good fellow hath but swooned and already doth revive. Are these your
men, and this the father who gave his all for you?"</p>
<p>Sir Richard drew nearer and kneeled as his son had done, whilst the
servitors looked on in strange fear. "Arise, honest man," said the Black
Knight, with feeling, "I know your story, and have pardoned your son.
What can I give to you to show you how we esteem a man just and
faithful, even in adversity?"</p>
<p>"Sire," faltered Sir Richard, rising and standing with bared head before
him. "If I might ask aught of you I would crave amnesty for myself and
for my men. You will hear ere long<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_335" id="Page_335"></SPAN></span> how we have befriended one Robin
Hood, an outlaw of these woods. Through his generous help I was able to
disencumber my estates, and yesterday, seeing him hard pressed, I opened
my hall to him."</p>
<p>"I will hear the story," the Black Knight said, briefly, "and then I
will judge." He turned to Tuck, who now was sitting up, and gazing about
him in bewildered fashion. "Take my hand, brother; let me help you to
your feet."</p>
<p>"Tell me," said the friar, leaning on the knight, after he had risen,
"was that a bolt from the sky which just now did strike me down?"</p>
<p>"I do fear it was this staff, brother," answered the other, smiling,
"with my poor arm to guide it. 'Twas an ill-requital for your
hospitality, and I ask your forgiveness."</p>
<p>"So small a thing as man's forgiveness of man," spoke Tuck,
sententiously, "I freely accord to you." He peeped at Sir Richard, and
recognized him at once as the knight of the woeful visage. He made no
sign of this knowledge, however. "Are these your companions, Sir Knight,
of whom you did tell me last night?" he asked, indicating the others
with a wide gesture.</p>
<p>"Why, yes, and no, brother," replied the knight, whimsically. "They are
not my companions in a sense, and yet I do purpose to make them such
forthwith. But come, 'tis time for me to be stirring an I would make an
end of my quest. I will be frank with you, brother. I seek Robin Hood,
and had hoped that he might be attending you to-day in this very place."</p>
<p>The friar put up his hands with an exclamation of horror.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_336" id="Page_336"></SPAN></span> "I am a lover
of peace, Sir Knight, and do not consort with such as these."</p>
<p>"Nay, I think no harm of Master Hood," the knight hastened to say, "but
I much yearn to see and speak with him."</p>
<p>"If that be all, and you will come with me," said Tuck, scenting a good
prey for Robin, "I will undertake to show you where these villains say
their nightly Mass. I could not live long in this wood without knowing
somewhat of Master Hood, be sure; and matters of religion have perforce
my most earnest attention."</p>
<p>"I will go with you, brother," said the Black Knight.</p>
<p>The friar led the three to his cell. "Bid all the men return to your
castle," the Black Knight commanded, loudly, "save four of those most to
be trusted." Under his breath he bade Sir Richard tell his fellows to
pretend to disperse, and to follow stealthily after their master soon as
an hour was gone.</p>
<p>Friar Tuck had produced some old monkish gowns from under a bench. He
bade the seven of them put them on, the three knights and the four
chosen men. "We will attend the Mass as brothers of my order, which is
Dominican, as you may see," explained Tuck, easily. "You, Sir Knight of
the iron wrist, shall wear this dress, which was an abbot's once. I
would we had a horse for you; it would be more seemly, and less like to
rouse suspicion."</p>
<p>Sir Richard said that there were horses with his men in plenty; and one
was readily obtained for the Black Knight's use. The little cavalcade
set out for Barnesdale, the friar joyfully leading the way. The
servitors affected to return to Sir Richard's castle, but hid themselves
in the bushes instead.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_337" id="Page_337"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>After going deeper and deeper into the forest they came at last to a
part of Watling Street, and there was Robin Hood with a score of his
men. He was watching the road for Monceux, having a notion that the
Sheriff would try now to take them in the rear.</p>
<p>Recognizing Tuck at once, Robin walked boldly up to them. "By your
leave, brothers," cried he, taking hold of the bridle of the knight's
horse and stopping him, "we are poor yeomen of the forest, and have no
means of support, thanks to the tyranny and injustice of the Norman
nobles in this land. But you abbots and churchmen have both fine
churches and rents, and plenty of gold without. Wherefore, for charity's
sake, give us a little of your spending money."</p>
<p>"We are poor monks, good Master Hood," cried Tuck, in a wheedling tone;
"I pray you do not stay us. We are journeying with all speed to a
monastery in Fountain's Dale, which we hear hath been deserted by its
owners."</p>
<p>"I can tell you much concerning this very place," said Robin. "Give me
alms, and I will open my lips to purpose."</p>
<p>The pretended abbot spoke now. "I have been journeying, good Master
Hood, with the King," said he, in full deep voice, "and I have spent the
greater part of my moneys. Fifty golden pieces is all that I have with
me."</p>
<p>"It is the very sum I would ask of thee, Sir Abbot," said Robin,
cheerily.</p>
<p>He took the gold which the other freely offered, and divided it into two
even sums. One half he gave to those with him, bidding them take it to
the treasury, the other he returned<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_338" id="Page_338"></SPAN></span> to the knight. "For thy courtesy,
Sir Abbot, keep this gold for thine own spending. 'Tis like that you
will journey with the King again, and need it."</p>
<p>"I will tell you now," said the pretended abbot, "for I see that you are
truly Robin Hood, although so small a man, that Richard of the Lion
Heart is returned to England, and hath bid me seek you out. He hath
heard much of you, and bids you, through me, to come into Nottingham and
there partake of his hospitality."</p>
<p>Robin laughed heartily. "That is where we may not venture, Sir Abbot,
since we value our skins. But where is your authority?"</p>
<p>The knight produced the King's seal from under his abbot's gown. Robin
looked at it, and fell at once upon his knees. "I love a true man,"
cried he, "and by all hearing my King is such an one. Now that he is
come to take sovereignty over us we may hope for justice, even in
Nottingham town. I thank you for your tidings, Sir Abbot; and for the
love I have of valor and all true kingly virtues, I bid you and your
fellows to sup freely with us under my trystal tree." He then offered to
lead them into Barnesdale; and the pretended monks, after a short
discussion, agreed to accept his offer.</p>
<p>They soon were come before the caves of Barnesdale, and were presented
to those of the band already there. Presently Robin blew two blasts upon
his horn, and the rest of the greenwood men made their appearance. All
were dressed in their new livery, and carried new bows in their left
hands. Each one knelt for a moment before Robin, as leader of them, ere
taking his place.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_339" id="Page_339"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>A handsome, dark-haired page stood at Robin's right hand, to hold his
cup for him and pour him wine. The signal was given, Robin graciously
placed the abbot in the place of honor; and under the cool fresh
evening, bright still with the aftermath of the day, the banquet was
begun.</p>
<p>The Black Knight was struck with astonishment. "By all the saints,"
thought he, "this is a wondrous sight. There is more obedience shown to
this outlaw man than my fellows have shown to me."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_340" id="Page_340"></SPAN></span></p>
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