“Hadst thou offered me a thousand pounds, false prior,” said the Knight, “thou wouldst not have got an inch of my land.”  Then turning to where his men-at-arms stood near the door, he called, “Come hither,” and beckoned with his finger; whereupon the tallest of them all came forward and handed him a long leathern bag.  Sir Richard took the bag and shot from it upon the table a glittering stream of golden money.  “Bear in mind, Sir Prior,” said he, “that thou hast promised me quittance for three hundred pounds.  Not one farthing above that shalt thou get.”  So saying, he counted out three hundred pounds and pushed it toward the Prior.

But now the Prior’s hands dropped at his sides and the Prior’s head hung upon his shoulder, for not only had he lost all hopes of the land, but he had forgiven the Knight one hundred pounds of his debt and had needlessly paid the man of law fourscore angels.  To him he turned, and quoth he, “Give me back my money that thou hast.”

“Nay,” cried the other shrilly, “it is but my fee that thou didst pay me, and thou gettest it not back again.”  And he hugged his gown about him.

“Now, Sir Prior,” quoth Sir Richard, “I have held my day and paid all the dues demanded of me; so, as there is no more betwixt us, I leave this vile place straightway.”  So saying, he turned upon his heel and strode away.

All this time the Sheriff had been staring with wide-open eyes and mouth agape at the tall man-at-arms, who stood as though carved out of stone.  At last he gasped out, “Reynold Greenleaf!”

At this, the tall man-at-arms, who was no other than Little John, turned, grinning, to the Sheriff.  “I give thee good den, fair gossip,” quoth he.  “I would say, sweet Sheriff, that I have heard all thy pretty talk this day, and it shall be duly told unto Robin Hood.  So, farewell for the nonce, till we meet again in Sherwood Forest.”  Then he, also, turned and followed Sir Richard down the hall, leaving the Sheriff, all pale and amazed, shrunk together upon his chair.

A merry feast it was to which Sir Richard came, but a sorry lot he left behind him, and little hunger had they for the princely food spread before them.  Only the learned doctor was happy, for he had his fee.

Now a twelvemonth and a day passed since Prior Vincent of Emmet sat at feast, and once more the mellow fall of another year had come.  But the year had brought great change, I wot, to the lands of Sir Richard of the Lea; for, where before shaggy wild grasses grew upon the meadow lands, now all stretch away in golden stubble, betokening that a rich and plentiful crop had been gathered therefrom.  A year had made a great change in the castle, also, for, where were empty moats and the crumbling of neglect, all was now orderly and well kept.