For a time the Knight said not a word, but a slow red arose into his cheeks; at last he looked Robin in the face and said, “I know not why I should be ashamed, for it should be no shame to me; but, friend, I tell thee the truth, when I say that in my purse are ten shillings, and that that is every groat that Sir Richard of the Lea hath in all the wide world.”

When Sir Richard ended a silence fell, until at last Robin said, “And dost thou pledge me thy knightly word that this is all thou hast with thee?”

“Yea,” answered Sir Richard, “I do pledge thee my most solemn word, as a true knight, that it is all the money I have in the world.  Nay, here is my purse, ye may find for yourselves the truth of what I say.”  And he held his purse out to Robin.

“Put up thy purse, Sir Richard,” quoth Robin.  “Far be it from me to doubt the word of so gentle a knight.  The proud I strive to bring low, but those that walk in sorrow I would aid if I could.  Come, Sir Richard, cheer up thy heart and go with us into the greenwood.  Even I may perchance aid thee, for thou surely knowest how the good Athelstane was saved by the little blind mole that digged a trench over which he that sought the king’s life stumbled.”

“Truly, friend,” said Sir Richard, “methinks thou meanest kindness in thine own way; nevertheless my troubles are such that it is not likely that thou canst cure them.  But I will go with thee this day into Sherwood.”  Hereupon he turned his horse’s head, and they all wended their way to the woodlands, Robin walking on one side of the Knight and Will Scarlet on the other, while the rest of the band trudged behind.

After they had traveled thus for a time Robin Hood spake.  “Sir Knight,” said he, “I would not trouble thee with idle questions; but dost thou find it in thy heart to tell me thy sorrows?”

“Truly, Robin,” quoth the Knight, “I see no reason why I should not do so.  Thus it is:  My castle and my lands are in pawn for a debt that I owe.  Three days hence the money must be paid or else all mine estate is lost forever, for then it falls into the hands of the Priory of Emmet, and what they swallow they never give forth again.”

Quoth Robin, “I understand not why those of thy kind live in such a manner that all their wealth passeth from them like snow beneath the springtide sun.”

“Thou wrongest me, Robin,” said the Knight, “for listen:  I have a son but twenty winters old, nevertheless he has won his spurs as knight.  Last year, on a certain evil day, the jousts were held at Chester, and thither my son went, as did I and my lady wife.  I wot it was a proud time for us, for he unhorsed each knight that he tilted against.  At last he ran a course with a certain great knight, Sir Walter of Lancaster, yet, though my son was so youthful, he kept his seat, albeit both spears were shivered to the heft; but it happened that a splinter of my boy’s lance ran through the visor of Sir