Then Sir Richard called aloud, “Friends, this is David of Doncaster; so think it no shame that your Denby man was cast by such a wrestler.  He beareth you no ill will for what hath passed, but let it be a warning to you how ye treat strangers henceforth.  Had ye slain him it would have been an ill day for you, for Robin Hood would have harried your town as the kestrel harries the dovecote.  I have bought the pipe of wine from him, and now I give it freely to you to drink as ye list.  But never hereafterward fall upon a man for being a stout yeoman.”

At this all shouted amain; but in truth they thought more of the wine than of the Knight’s words.  Then Sir Richard, with David beside him and his men-at-arms around, turned about and left the fair.

But in after days, when the men that saw that wrestling bout were bent with age, they would shake their heads when they heard of any stalwart game, and say, “Ay, ay; but thou shouldst have seen the great David of Doncaster cast stout William of the Scar at Denby fair.”

Robin Hood stood in the merry greenwood with Little John and most of his stout yeomen around him, awaiting Sir Richard’s coming.  At last a glint of steel was seen through the brown forest leaves, and forth from the covert into the open rode Sir Richard at the head of his men.  He came straight forward to Robin Hood and leaping from off his horse, clasped the yeoman in his arms.

“Why, how now,” said Robin, after a time, holding Sir Richard off and looking at him from top to toe, “methinks thou art a gayer bird than when I saw thee last.”

“Yes, thanks to thee, Robin,” said the Knight, laying his hand upon the yeoman’s shoulder.  “But for thee I would have been wandering in misery in a far country by this time.  But I have kept my word, Robin, and have brought back the money that thou didst lend me, and which I have doubled four times over again, and so become rich once more.  Along with this money I have brought a little gift to thee and thy brave men from my dear lady and myself.”  Then, turning to his men, he called aloud, “Bring forth the pack horses.”

But Robin stopped him.  “Nay, Sir Richard,” said he, “think it not bold of me to cross thy bidding, but we of Sherwood do no business till after we have eaten and drunk.”  Whereupon, taking Sir Richard by the hand, he led him to the seat beneath the greenwood tree, while others of the chief men of the band came and seated themselves around.  Then quoth Robin, “How cometh it that I saw young David of Doncaster with thee and thy men, Sir Knight?”

Then straightway the Knight told all about his stay at Denby and of the happening at the fair, and how it was like to go hard with young David; so he told his tale, and quoth he, “It was this, good Robin, that kept me so late on the way, otherwise I would have been here an hour agone.”

Then, when he had done speaking, Robin stretched out his hand and grasped the Knight’s palm.  Quoth he in a trembling voice, “I owe thee a debt I can never hope to repay, Sir Richard, for let me tell thee, I would rather lose my right hand than have such ill befall young David of Doncaster as seemed like to come upon him at Denby.”