“You speak truly, my dear Much, and ‘tis indeed a rough job to fight with Arthur when he is in earnest...”

  “Arthur always keeps cool,” replied Much; “but as he is ignorant of the real rules of the game, he owes his success only to his tremendous muscle.”

  “Did he make you cry for quarter?”

  “I should think so. But for that, he would have knocked all the breath out of me. At this moment he is trying a bout with Little John, but with such an adversary Arthur’s defeat cannot be doubted, for when he begins to strike hard, Little John doth e’en lift his staff and give him some shrewd blows on the shoulders, to teach him to moderate the transports of his strength.”

  “For what reason did you engage with the indomitable Arthur?” asked Robin.

  “Without rhyme or reason, simply to pass an hour agreeably and to give our limbs healthy exercise.”

  “Arthur is a terrible fighter,” said Robin, “and one day he overcame me in a bout with quarter-staves.”

  “You!” cried Will.

  “Yea, cousin, he treated me somewhat after the fashion in which he hath handled Much; the rascal used his oaken staff like a bar of iron.”

  “How was it that he beat you? Where did the bout take place?” asked Will, curiously.

  “The match took place in the Forest, and this is how I made Arthur’s acquaintance. I was walking by myself down a lonely path in the wood, when I saw the gigantic Arthur leaning upon an iron ferruled staff, with eyes and mouth wide open watching a herd of deer within a few feet of him. His gigantic appearance, the air of candid innocence which overspread his large face, made me wish to amuse myself at his expense. I glided dexterously behind him, and accosted him by a vigorous blow with the fist between his shoulders. Arthur started, turned his head, and glared at me wrathfully.

  “Who art thou?” said I to him, “and what dost thou mean by wandering in the wood? Thou hast all the appearance of a robber going to steal the deer. Be so good as to clear off at once. I am the Keeper of this part of the Forest, and I will not suffer the presence of rascals of thy kind.”

  “Well,” he replied carelessly, “try and remove me if thou dost wish it, but I do not intend to go. Call for help, if it be thy good pleasure; I will not oppose thee.”

  “I need call for no one to enforce the law or my wishes, my fine fellow. I am accustomed to trust to mine own resources, which, as thou mayst see, are worthy of respect. I have two good arms, a sword, and a bow and arrows.”

  “My little forester,” said Arthur, looking me up and down from head to foot disdainfully, “if I gave thee a single blow on the fingers with my staff, thou wouldst not be able to use either sword or bow.”

  “Speak civilly, my lad,” I replied, “an thou wish not to get a sound thrashing.”

  “How now, little friend, whip an oak with a reed! Whom dost take thyself for, then, young prodigy of valour? Learn that I care not for thee the least bit in the world. However, an if thou wish to fight, I am thy man.”

  “Thou hast no sword,” I observed.

  “I need none when I have my staff.”

  “Then I must take a staff of the same length as thine.”

  “So be it,” said he, putting himself on his guard.

  I immediately dealt him the first blow, and I saw the blood gush from his forehead and stream down his cheeks. Staggering under the blow, he made a step backward. I lowered my weapon, but seeing the movement, which no doubt appeared to him an expression of triumph, he set himself again to wield his staff with an extraordinary strength and cleverness. With such violence did he strike out that I had hardly strength to ward off his blows and keep my staff in my clenched hands. In leaping back to avoid a terrible attack, I neglected to keep up my guard, and he took advantage of it to deal me the most terrific crack on the skull I have ever received. I fell back as though pierced by an arrow, but I did not lose consciousness, and again sprang to my feet. The combat, suspended for an instant, began again; Arthur rained his blows upon me with such tremendous force, he scarce gave me time to defend myself. Thus we fought for nearly four hours. We made the echoes of the old wood ring with our blows, revolving round one another like two wild boars when they fight. At length, thinking there was not much use in continuing a struggle in which there was little to gain, not even the satisfaction of thrashing my adversary, I threw down my staff.

  “Enow,” I said to him; “let us finish the quarrel. We might knock each other about until to-morrow and both be ground to powder without winning aught thereby. I give thee the free run of the Forest, for thou art a brave lad.”

  “Gramercy for that great favour,” he replied disdainfully. “I have purchased the right to go my own way by the aid of my staff; therefore it is to that rather than to thee my thanks are due.”

  “That is true, my brave lad, but thou wouldst have found it difficult to defend thy right with thy staff alone to enforce it. Thou wouldst find some doughty opponent in the green wood, and thou couldst only preserve thy liberty at the cost of broken crowns and aching limbs. Believe me, life in the town even would be preferable to that which thou wouldst lead here.”

  “However,” replied Arthur, “I am fain to dwell in the old Forest.”

  “My valiant adversary’s answer made me consider,” continued Robin. I looked at his tall figure, the amiable frankness of his face, and I told myself that the attachment of such a young blade as this might be to the advantage of our community.

  “Then thou dost not like living in the town?” I asked him.

  “Nay,” he replied, “I am aweary of being the slave of these cursed Normans. I am tired of hearing myself called “dog, knave, serf.” My master hath applied to me this morning some of the worst epithets in his vocabulary, and, not content with baiting me with his viperish tongue, wished to strike me. I did not wait for the blow. ‘found a stick within reach of my hand, and used it, giving him a blow over the shoulders that knocked him senseless. That done, I fled.”

  “What is thy trade?” I asked him.

  “I am a tanner,” he answered, “and I have lived for several years in the county of Nottingham.”

  “Well, my fine friend,” I said to him, “if thou have not too great a liking for your trade, canst say good-bye to it, and come and live here. I am Robin Hood. Is the name known to thee?”

  “For sure it is; but are you Robin Hood? You told me just now that you were one of the Keepers of the Forest.”

  “I am Robin Hood, I give thee my word of honour,” I replied, holding out my hand to the poor lad, who was overcome by surprise. “Upon my soul and conscience!”

  “Then I am very glad to have met you,” added Arthur, joyfully, “for I came to seek you, generous Robin Hood. When you told me that you were one of the Keepers of the Forest I believed you, and should not have dared to tell you my reason for coming to Sherwood. I wish to join your band, and if you will accept me as a companion you will have no more devoted or more faithful follower than Peaceful Arthur, the tanner of Nottingham town.”

  “Thy frankness pleaseth me, Arthur,” I answered him, “and I consent gladly to admit thee as one of the Merrie Men who form my band. Our laws are few and simple, but they must be observed. On every other point thou shalt have complete liberty, and in addition to that thou wilt be well clothed, well nourished, and well treated.”

  “My heart swells as I listen to you, Robin Hood, and the thought of being one of your band makes me very happy. I am not quite the stranger you might imagine, for Little John is a kinsman of mine. My maternal uncle married John’s mother, who was a sister of Sir Guy Gamwell. Shall I see Little John soon? I am all impatience to do so.”

  “I will bring him hither,” I said, and wound my horn.

  Some minutes later Little John appeared.

  At sight of our blood-bespattered faces and frightful bruises, Little John stopped short.

  “What is it, Robin?” he cried, startled. “Your face is in a frightful state.”

  “I have been thrashed,” I replied calmly, “and the culprit stands before thee.”

  “If that rascal hath beaten you, he must wield his staff very prettily,” cried Little John. “Well, I will repay with interest the blows he hath given thee. Step forward, my fine lad.”

  “Stay thy hand, friend John, and give it to a faithful ally, to a cousin; this young man is called Arthur.”

  “Arthur of Nottingham, known as Peaceful Arthur?” questioned John.

  “The same,” replied Arthur. “We have not met since our childhood, but all the same I recognised thee, Cousin John.”

  “I cannot say as much,” said John, with his simple frankness. “I do not recall thy features, but that matters little; thou art welcome, Cousin, and thou wilt find good and merry hearts in the green wood.”

  Arthur and John embraced each other, and the remainder of the day passed merrily.

  “Have you ever striven against Arthur since that day?” Will asked Robin.

  “I have had no opportunity of doing so as yet; but it is probable that I should be vanquished again, and that would be for the third time.”

  “What, for the third time?” cried Will.

  “Yea, Jasper the Tinker gave me a sound drubbing.”

  “Really? When was that? Doubtless before he was enrolled in the band?”

  “Yea,” replied Robin. “I am in the habit of proving the courage and strength of a man for myself before putting my confidence in him. I do not wish for companions with weak heads and hearts. One morning I met Jasper the Tinker on the road to Nottingham. You know his vigorous broad-shouldered person, and I need give you no description of the jolly rascal; his looks pleased me, as he walked with a firm step, whistling a gay air. I advanced to meet him.”

  “Good day, my friend,” said I to him. “I see thou art a traveller. ‘Tis said there is bad news abroad; is that true?”

  “What news dost speak of?” he asked. “I know of none worth naming. I come from Bamborough, and am a tinsmith by trade, and I think only of my work.”

  “The news in question ought to interest thee all the same, my fine fellow. I have heard that ten of you Tinkers have just been put in the stocks for being drunk.”

  “Thy news is not worth a groat,” he replied; “but if all who drank were put in the stocks, thou wouldst certainly take the first place there, for thou hast not the air of a man who despiseth good wine.”

  “In truth, I am no enemy to the bottle, and I do not think there is a jovial heart in all the world that despiseth wine. But what brings thee hither from Bamborough? For assuredly it was not the interests of thy trade.”

  “It was not my trade, in sooth,” responded Jasper. “I am seeking a robber called Robin Hood. A reward of one hundred golden crowns is promised to anyone who can capture him, and I much desire to gain that reward.”

  “How thinkest to capture Robin Hood?” I asked the Tinker, for I was greatly surprised at the calm and serious way in which he made this strange confidence.

  “I have an order for his arrest, signed by the King,” Jasper made answer.

  “Is the order strictly in rule?”

  “Perfectly; it empowereth me to arrest Robin, and proposeth me the reward.”

  “Thou speakest of this arrest, already so often vainly attempted, as if it were the easiest thing in the world to accomplish.”

  “It will not be very difficult for me,” replied the Tinker. “I am of solid build, I have muscles of iron, a tried courage, and much patience. Thus can I well hope to catch my man.”

  “Wert thou to meet accidentally, shouldst recognise him?”

  “I have never seen him; an if I knew his face, my task would be half accomplished. Art any wiser than I am in this respect?”

  “Yea, I have met Robin Hood twice, and perchance it would be possible for me to help thee in thine enterprise.”

  “My fine lad, an thou canst do that,” said he, “I will e’en give thee a large share of the reward I shall gain.”

  “I will point out a place where thou couldst meet him,” I replied; “but before going any further in our undertaking, I should like to see the order for his arrest; to be valid it must be drawn up according to rule.”

  “I am greatly obliged for thy precaution,” answered the Tinker, defiantly, “but I shall confide the paper to no one. I know it is valid and in order; that satisfies me, and so much the worse for thee if thou dost not believe it. Robin Hood shall see the King’s order when I have him in my power, bound hand and foot.”

  “Perchance thou art right, my good man,” I replied indifferently. “I am not so anxious to assure myself of the value of thy permit as thou seemest to think. I am going to Nottingham as much from curiosity as from idleness, for I heard this morning that Robin Hood was going into the town, and if thou wilt come with me I will show thee the famous Outlaw.”

  “I will take thee at thy word, my lad,” said the Tinker, quickly, “but an if, when we arrive at our destination, I see any sign of deceit on thy part, thou shalt make acquaintance with my staff.”

  I shrugged my shoulders in disdain. He saw the action, and began to laugh.

  “Thou wilt not regret having helped me,” said he, “for I am not an ungrateful man.”

  When we arrived at Nottingham we stopped at Pat’s Inn, and I asked the master of the house for a bottle of a special kind of beer. The Tinker, who had been on his feet since early morning, was literally dying of thirst, and the beer soon disappeared. After the beer I called for wine, and after the wine again for beer, and so on for an hour. Without perceiving it, the Tinker had emptied every bottle set before him, for I, being by nature averse to the immoderate use of wine, contented myself with a few glasses. I need hardly tell you that the worthy fellow became completely intoxicated. Then he began to regale me with a boastful account of all he would do to capture Robin Hood, and how, after taking the Chief of the Merrie Men prisoner, he would arrest the whole band, and take them all to London. The King would reward his bravery by giving him a fortune and the privileges of a grand dignitary of the State; but at the very moment when the illustrious conqueror was on the point of marrying an English Princess, he fell from his chair, and rolled, fast asleep, beneath the table.

  I took the Tinker’s purse; it contained, besides money, the order for my arrest. I paid our expenses, and told the Innkeeper

  “When this fellow awakes, you will ask him to pay for our refreshment; then, if he asks you who I am and where I am to be found, you will answer that I live in the Forest, and that my name is Robin Hood.”

  The Innkeeper, a worthy man, in whom I have every confidence, began to laugh gaily.

  “Be easy, Master Robin,” said he, “I will faithfully carry out your orders; and should the Tinker wish to see you again, he will only have to seek you.”

  “You understand me, my good fellow,” I replied, picking up the Tinsmith’s bag. “And there is every reason to believe the good man will not let me wait his visit for long.”

  Saying which, I bade the Innkeeper farewell, and left the house.

  After sleeping for some hours, Jasper awoke. He soon became aware of my absence and of the loss of his purse.

  “Landlord,” he shouted, in a voice of thunder, “I am robbed, I am ruined! Where is the thief?”

  “Of what thief do you speak?” asked the host, with the greatest coolness.

  “Of my companion. He hath plundered me.”

  “Well, that doth not suit me at all,” said the Innkeeper, with an appearance of anger, “for you have here a long shot to settle.”

  “A shot to settle!” groaned Jasper. “I have naught left, naught whatever; the wretch hath utterly despoiled me. I had in my purse a warrant of arrest under the King’s hand; and by the help of that warrant I might have made my fortune, I might have captured Robin Hood. This thief of a stranger promised to help me, and was going to conduct me into the presence of the outlaw chief. Oh, the rogue! He hath abused my confidence and carried off my precious paper!”

  “How?” returned the Innkeeper. “You confided to that young man the evil intentions that have brought you to Nottingham?”

  The Tinker threw a sidelong glance at his host.

  “It appears,” said he, “that you would not lend a helping hand to the brave fellow who would wish to arrest Robin Hood?”

  “By my faith,” replied the Innkeeper, “Robin Hood hath never done me harm, and his quarrels with the rulers of the land do not concern me. But how the devil,” continued the man, “did you come to be drinking joyously with him, and showing him your little paper, instead of seizing his person?”

  The Tinker stared wildly at him.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “I mean that you have lost an opportunity of capturing Robin Hood.”

  “How so?”

  “Oh, what a dolt you be! Robin Hood was here just now. You entered together, you drank together, and I thought you were one of his band.”

  “I drank with Robin Hood! I clinked glasses with Robin Hood!” cried the astounded Tinker.

  “Yea, a thousand times yea!”

  “This is too much!” exclaimed the poor man, seating himself heavily in a chair. “But he shall never say that he tricked Jasper the Tinker with impunity. Oh, villain! Oh, thief!” bellowed the Tinker, “wait, wait, wait while I seek thee out.”

  “I would fain see the colour of my money before you go,” said the Innkeeper

  “What is the amount of your bill?” asked Jasper, wrathfully.

  “Ten shillings,” replied the host, overjoyed at the unhappy Tinker’s furious countenance,

  “I have not a penny to give you,” returned Jasper, turning out his pockets; “but as guarantee for the payment of this unlucky debt, I will leave my tools with you. They are worth three or four times what you claim. Can you tell me where to find Robin Hood?”

  “Not this evening, but to-morrow you will find your man hunting the King’s deer.”

  “Well, then, to-morrow the robber shall be captured,” rejoined the Tinker, with an assurance which gave the Innkeeper food for thought; “for,” added Robin, “when recounting this to me, the host avowed that he greatly feared Jasper’s rage against me.”