“But where is thy son now?” asked Robin, who had listened closely to all the Knight had said.
“In Palestine,” said Sir Richard, “battling like a brave Christian soldier for the cross and the holy sepulcher. Truly, England was an ill place for him because of Sir Walter’s death and the hate of the Lancastrian’s kinsmen.”
“Truly,” said Robin, much moved, “thine is a hard lot. But tell me, what is owing to Emmet for thine estates?”
“Only four hundred pounds,” said Sir Richard.
At this, Robin smote his thigh in anger. “O the bloodsuckers!” cried he. “A noble estate to be forfeit for four hundred pounds! But what will befall thee if thou dost lose thy lands, Sir Richard?”
“It is not mine own lot that doth trouble me in that case,” said the Knight, “but my dear lady’s; for should I lose my land she will have to betake herself to some kinsman and there abide in charity, which, methinks, would break her proud heart. As for me, I will over the salt sea, and so to Palestine to join my son in fight for the holy sepulcher.”
Then up spake Will Scarlet. “But hast thou no friend that will help thee in thy dire need?”
“Never a man,” said Sir Richard. “While I was rich enow at home, and had friends, they blew great boasts of how they loved me. But when the oak falls in the forest the swine run from beneath it lest they should be smitten down also. So my friends have left me; for not only am I poor but I have great enemies.”
Then Robin said, “Thou sayst thou hast no friends, Sir Richard. I make no boast, but many have found Robin Hood a friend in their troubles. Cheer up, Sir Knight, I may help thee yet.”
The Knight shook his head with a faint smile, but for all that, Robin’s words made him more blithe of heart, for in truth hope, be it never so faint, bringeth a gleam into darkness, like a little rushlight that costeth but a groat.