That night the King of England slept under the protection of the Outlaws of Sherwood Forest, and the next day, after doing justice to an excellent breakfast, he prepared to take the road once more to Nottingham.

  “My brave Robin,” said the Monarch, “could you place at my disposal some clothes like those worn by your men?”

  “Yea, Sire.”

  “Well, then, give me and my Knights costumes like thine own, and we will have a diverting scene upon our entry into Nottingham. Our men of office are alway extraordinarily active, whenever the presence of a superior puts them on their good behaviour, and I feel certain the good Reeve and his valiant soldiers will give us proofs of their invincible courage.”

  The King and his Knights donned the costumes chosen by Robin, and after a gallant kiss bestowed upon Marian, in honour of all the ladies, Richard, accompanied by Robin, Little John, Will Scarlett, Much, and a hundred and forty archers, gaily took the road to his lordly dwelling.

  At the gates of Nottingham, Richard commanded his suite to give vent to a shout of victory.

  This formidable hurrah brought the citizens to the thresholds of their repective houses, and at sight of a body of Merrie Men, armed to the teeth, they imagined that the King had been killed by the Outlaws, and that the robbers, whetted by their bloody victory, were going to descend upon the town and massacre all its inhabitants. Distracted with fear, the poor creatures rushed about in disorder, some into the most obscure recesses of their dwellings, others straight before them. Others pealed the bells, besought the aid of the town guard, and went to find the Reeve, who by an extraordinary miracle had completely disappeared.

  The King’s troops were about to make a dangerous attack upon the supposed Outlaws, when their Chiefs, little desirous of entering upon a contest without knowing the cause of it, put a check upon their bellicose ardour.

  “Behold our warriors,” said Richard, with a sly look at the cowardly defenders of the town. “Meseemeth the citizens, as well as the soldiers, cling to life. The Reeve is absent, the leaders tremble; good Heavens, but these cowards deserve exemplary punishment.”

  The King had scarce arrived at this by no means flattering conclusion concerning the citizens of Nottingham, when his own personal body-guard, led by a Captain, left the Castle in all haste, in line of battle and with spears at rest.

  “By St. Denis, my fine fellows joke not,” cried the King, putting to his lips the horn that had been given him by Robin. Twice he sounded a call betokening the advance to the Captain of his Guards, and the latter, recognising the signal agreed upon by the Monarch, lowered his arms, and respectfully awaited the approach of his Sovereign.

  The news of the return of Richard of England, triumphantly accompanied by the Prince of Outlaws, spread as quickly as the news of the approach of the Outlaws with murderous intent. The citizens, who had prudently retired into the recesses of their houses, sallied out again with pale faces, but with smiles upon their lips; and as soon as they learnt that Robin Hood and his band had won the King’s favour, they pressed round the Merrie Men, complimenting this one, shaking the hand of that, vying with one another in proclaiming themselves the friends and protectors of them all. From the midst of the multitude cries of felicitation and joy arose, and one heard these words repeated on every side “Glory to noble Robin Hood, glory to Robin Hood, the tender and true!”

  The voices growing more and more emboldened, proclaimed the presence of the Outlaw Chief so loudly and enthusiastically, that Richard, tired of the increasing clamour, cried at last “By my crown and sceptre, meseemeth that thou art King here, Robin.”

  “Ah, Sire,” replied the young man, with a bitter smile, “do not attach any importance or value to these tokens of apparent friendship; they are but the vague result of the gracious favour with which your Majesty doth overload the Outlaw. One word from King Richard could change the admiring shouts which my presence here excites, into howls of hatred, and these very men would, pass at once from praise to blame, from admiration to scorn.”

  “Thou speakest true, my dear Robin,” laughed the King; “rogues are the same everywhere, and I have already proved the heartlessness of the citizens of Nottingham. When I came here with the intention of punishing Prince John, they greeted my return to England with a profound reserve. For them, might is right, and they did not know that with thy help it would be easy for me to capture the Castle and expel my brother. Now they show us the fair side of their ugly faces, and plaster us with their vile flattery. Let us leave the wretches, and think only of ourselves. I have promised thee, Robin, a noble reward for the services which thou hast rendered me. Put thy request; King Richard hath but one word, to which he ever holds, and he aye fulfils the promises he doth make.”

  “Sire,” replied Robin, “your gracious Majesty hath made me happy beyond expression in renewing your generous offer of support. I accept it for myself, for my men, and for a Knight, who, disgraced by King Henry, hath been obliged to seek a refuge in Sherwood Forest. This Knight, Sire, is a warm-hearted man, the worthy father of a family, a brave Saxon, and if your Majesty will do me the honour to hearken to the history of Sir Richard of the Plain, I am sure you will grant the request I am about to make.”

  “We have given our kingly word to grant any favour which it may please thee to beg of us, friend Robin,” replied Richard, affectionately. “Speak out fearlessly, and tell us by what chain of circumstances this Knight fell into disfavour with my father.”

  Robin hastened to obey the King’s command, and recounted as briefly as possible the history of Sir Richard of the Plain.

  “By our Lady,” cried Richard, “this good Knight hath been cruelly treated and thou hast acted nobly in coming to his aid. But it shall never be said, brave Robin Hood, that in this case again thou hast surpassed the King of England in large-heartedness and generosity. I will protect thy friend in my turn; bring him to our presence.”

  Robin called the Knight, who, with a heart beating high with hope, presented himself respectfully before the Monarch.

  “Sir Richard of the Plain,” said the King, graciously, “thy valiant friend, Robin Hood, hath just told me of all the misfortunes that have occurred to thy family, and the dangers to which thou hast been exposed. In doing thee justice, I am happy to testify to the sincere admiration and profound esteem which his conduct inspires in me. I restore to thee possession of thy goods, and for one year thou shalt be freed of all imposts and taxes. Besides this, I annul the decree of banishment proclaimed against thee, in order that the remembrance of this act of injustice shall be entirely effaced both from thy memory and from that of thy fellow citizens. Return to thy Castle; letters of full and entire pardon shall be delivered to thee by our command. As for thee, Robin Hood, ask something more from him who feels that he can never repay his debt of gratitude, even after having granted all thy wishes.”

  “Sire,” said the Knight, kneeling upon the ground, “how can I express the gratitude which fills my heart?”

  “By telling me that thou art happy,” the King replied gaily; “and by promising me never again to offend against members of Holy Church.’”

  Sir Richard kissed the hand of the generous Monarch, and discreetly retired among the groups standing a short distance from the King.

  “Well, brave archer,” continued the Monarch, turning toward Robin Hood, “what dost desire of me?”

  “Naught at present, Sire; later on, if your Majesty will permit me, I shall ask one last favour.”

  “It shall be granted thee. Now, let us return to the Castle. We have received generous hospitality in Sherwood Forest, and it is to be hoped that Nottingham Castle can furnish resources for a right royal feast. Thy men have an excellent mode of preparing venison, and the fresh air and fatigue of the march had singularly sharpened our appetites, so that we ate greedily.”

  “Your Majesty had the right to eat your fill,” Robin laughingly replied, “considering that the game was your own property.”

  “Our property or that of the first hunter that comes along,” the King returned gaily; “and if all other folk make out that the deer of Sherwood Forest belong exclusively to us, there is a certain yeoman whom thou dost know very well, Robin, and three hundred of his companions forming a merry band, who reck mighty little of the prerogative of the Crown.”

  Talking thus, Richard proceeded toward the Castle, and the enthusiastic acclamations of the populace followed the King of England and the famous Outlaw to the gates of the old fortress with their noisy clamour.

  The generous Monarch fulfilled the promises he had made to Robin Hood the very same day; he signed an act annulling the ban of proscription, and restored to the young man possession of his rights and title to the wealth and dignities of the Huntingdon family.

  The day after this happy event, Robin assembled his men in the Court-yard of the Castle, and announced to them the unhoped-for change in his fortunes. This news filled the hearts of the brave yeomen with sincere happiness; they loved their Chief devotedly, and with one accord they refused the liberty he wished to give them. It was decided forthwith that for the future the Merrie Men were to cease from levying contributions even on Normans and Churchmen, and that they should be fed and clothed afresh by their noble master Robin Hood, who had become the rich Earl of Huntingdon.

  “My lads,” added Robin, “since ye wish to live near me and to accompany me to London, if I be commanded to proceed thither by our well-beloved Sovereign, ye must swear to me never to reveal the situation of our cave to any one. Let us reserve this precious refuge in case of fresh misfortune.”

  The men loudly took the oath demanded by their Chief, and Robin urged them to make their preparations for departure without delay.

  On March 30th, 1194, the eve of his departure for London, Richard held a council at Nottingham Castle, and amongst the many important matters that were then discussed was the establishment of Robin’s right to the Earldom of Huntingdon. The King peremptorily announced his wish to restore to Robin Hood the property held by the Abbot of Ramsey, and Richard’s councillors formally promised to carry out to his entire satisfaction the act of justice, which was to make amends to the noble Outlaw for the misfortunes he had so courageously borne.

  CHAPTER XIII

  Before leaving, perhaps for ever, the ancient Forest that had so long sheltered him, Robin felt such an intense regret for the past, and such apprehensions for the future, but little in keeping with the prospect which Richard’s generosity had opened up for him, that he decided to await under the protecting shelter of his leafy home the definite results of the arrangements made by the King of England.

  It was a lucky decision that kept him at Sherwood, for Richard’s coronation, which took place at Winchester shortly after his return to London, so much absorbed his thoughts that all proceedings tending to restore the recognised but still unproclaimed rights of the young Earl of Huntingdon, were rendered inexpedient.

  The coronation festivities ended, Richard departed for the Continent, to which he was summoned by a desire for vengeance upon Philip of France, and, relying on the promises of his Counsellors, he left the re-establishment of brave Robin Hood’s fortunes to their care.

  Baron Broughton (Abbot of Ramsey), who enjoyed the wealth of the Huntingdon family, set in motion all his influence and the resources of his immense fortune, to retard the execution of the decree made by Richard in favour of the true inheritor of the titles and domains of this rich Earldom. But all the time he was gathering to himself friends and protectors, the prudent Baron did not attempt openly to oppose the edict issued by Richard, contenting himself with asking for time, and loading the Chancellor with rich presents; and thus maintaining quiet possession of the patrimony he had usurped.

  While Richard was fighting in Normandy, and the Abbot of Ramsey gradually winning over the entire Council to his cause, Robin Hood confidently awaited the message that would inform him of his having entered into possession of his father’s estates.

  Eleven months of fruitless waiting lessened the young man’s patience. He plucked up courage, and trusting in the kindness shown him by the King during his sojourn at Nottingham, he addressed a request to Hubert Walter, Archbishop of Canterbury, Keeper of the Great Seal of England, and Lord Chief Justice of the Kingdom. Robin Hood’s request reached its destination. The Archbishop was aware of it. But if this very just demand, was not openly repulsed, it remained unanswered, and was treated as though it had never been made.

  The ill-will of those who had to do with restoring Robin Hood’s possessions, manifested itself in this inactivity, and it was not difficult for the young man to guess that an underhand struggle was going on against him. Unluckily, the Abbot of Ramsey, who had become Baron of Broughton, was too strong an adversary to make it possible for Robin to revenge himself upon him in Richard’s absence. He therefore decided to shut his eyes to the injustice of which he was a victim, and prudently to await King Richard’s return.

  Acting on this decision, Robin Hood sent a second message to the Lord Chief Justice. He confessed to great dissatisfaction at the evident protection accorded to the Abbot of Ramsey, and declared that, hoping for prompt justice on Richard’s return to England, he would again place himself at the head of his men, and continue to live in Sherwood Forest as he had done before.

  Hubert Walter apparently paid no attention to Robin’s second message; but, while taking strong measures to restore peace and order throughout England, while destroying numerous bands of men who had gathered together in different parts of the kingdom, the Archbishop left Richard’s friend and his Merrie Men in peace.

  Four years went by in the false calm that precedes the storm of revolutionary disorders. One morning, the news of Richard’s death fell upon the kingdom of England like a thunderbolt, and filled all hearts with fear.

  The accession to the throne of Prince John, who seemed deliberately to have undertaken the task of making himself universally hated, was the signal for a series of crimes and acts of reckless violence.

  During this disastrous period, the Abbot of Ramsey, accompanied by a numerous suite, passed through Sherwood Forest on his way to York, and was waylaid by Robin. The Abbot and his escort were taken prisoners, and could only obtain their freedom at the cost of a considerable ransom. He paid, storming and promising himself a fierce revenge the while; and this revenge was not long delayed.

  The Abbot of Ramsey addressed self to the King, and John, who at that time greatly needed the support of the nobles, lent an ear to the Abbot’s complaint, and forthwith sent a hundred men under Sir William de Grey, the eldest brother of John de Grey, the King’s favourite, in pursuit of Robin Hood, with orders to cut the whole band to pieces.

  Sir William de Grey, who was a Norman, hated the Saxons, and moved by this feeling of hatred he swore ere long to lay the head of his insolent adversary at the feet of the Abbot of Ramsey.

  The unexpected arrival of a company of soldiers of warlike appearance and clad in coats of mail, caused a panic in the little town of Nottingham; but when it was understood that their destination was the Forest of Sherwood, and their purpose the extermination of Robin’s band, terror gave place to discontent, and some of the Outlaws’ friends hastened to warn them of the fate in store for them. Robin received the news as a man on his guard, who awaits the reprisals of a deeply injured enemy, and he did not doubt for an instant that the Abbot of Ramsey had lent his assistance to this sudden expedition. Robin assembled his men, therefore, and prepared to offer a stout resistance to the Norman attack. He at once sent out a skilful archer, disguised as a peasant, who was to meet the enemy and offer to conduct them to the tree known throughout the county as the rallying-point of the band of Merrie Men.

  This simple trick, which had already rendered Robin such good service, again succeeded completely, and Sir William de Grey accepted the offices of Robin’s spy without hesitation.

  The genial Forester then put himself at the head of the troop and took them through bushes, thorns, and thickets for three hours, without noticing, apparently, that their coats of mail rendered the progress of the unhappy soldiers very difficult. Then, when they were overcome by the crushing weight of their armour and spent with fatigue, the guide led them, not to the Trysting Tree, but to the middle of a vast clearing surrounded by elms, beeches, and century-old oaks. On this spot, where the turf was as fresh and as green as the lawn before a country house, was gathered, some sitting, some standing, the entire band of Merrie Men.

  The sight of the enemy, to all appearances disarmed, revived the soldiers’ spirits. Without giving a thought to their guide, who had slipped into the ranks of the Outlaws, they uttered a shout of triumph and threw themselves upon the Foresters. To the great surprise of the Normans the Merrie Men hardly quitted the listless attitude they had taken up, and almost without a change of position, they raised their immense cudgels above their heads, whirling them round and round with shouts of laughter.

  Exasperated by this derisive reception, the soldiers rushed confusedly, sword in hand, upon the Foresters, who, without manifesting the slightest emotion, knocked down the threatening weapons with lusty blows of their cudgels; then, with dazzling rapidity, they dealt a shower of deadly blows upon the heads and shoulders of the Normans. The clatter of the coats of mail and helmets mingled with the cries of the terrified soldiers and the shouts of the Foresters, who did not appear to be defending their lives, but merely exercising their skill upon inanimate bodies.

  Sir William de Grey, who was in command of the soldiers, saw with rage in his heart, the best of his troop falling around him, and he cursed the folly that had made him load his men with such heavy accoutrements. In a combat with men of such superior strength, and where the victory was so uncertain, bodily skill and agility were the first elements of success, and the Normans could hardly move without an effort.