To this speech the other answered not a word, but he pushed the cowl back from his head and showed a knit brow, a hooked nose, and a pair of fierce, restless black eyes, which altogether made Robin think of a hawk as he looked on his face.  But beside this there was something about the lines on the stranger’s face, and his thin cruel mouth, and the hard glare of his eyes, that made one’s flesh creep to look upon.

“Who art thou, rascal?” said he at last, in a loud, harsh voice.

“Tut, tut,” quoth merry Robin, “speak not so sourly, brother.  Hast thou fed upon vinegar and nettles this morning that thy speech is so stinging?”

“An thou likest not my words,” said the other fiercely, “thou hadst best be jogging, for I tell thee plainly, my deeds match them.”

“Nay, but I do like thy words, thou sweet, pretty thing,” quoth Robin, squatting down upon the grass in front of the other.  “Moreover, I tell thee thy speech is witty and gamesome as any I ever heard in all my life.”

The other said not a word, but he glared upon Robin with a wicked and baleful look, such as a fierce dog bestows upon a man ere it springs at his throat.  Robin returned the gaze with one of wide-eyed innocence, not a shadow of a smile twinkling in his eyes or twitching at the corners of his mouth.  So they sat staring at one another for a long time, until the stranger broke the silence suddenly.  “What is thy name, fellow?” said he.

“Now,” quoth Robin, “I am right glad to hear thee speak, for I began to fear the sight of me had stricken thee dumb.  As for my name, it may be this or it may be that; but methinks it is more meet for thee to tell me thine, seeing that thou art the greater stranger in these parts.  Prythee, tell me, sweet chuck, why wearest thou that dainty garb upon thy pretty body?” At these words the other broke into a short, harsh roar of laughter.  “By the bones of the Daemon Odin,” said he, “thou art the boldest-spoken man that ever I have seen in all my life.  I know not why I do not smite thee down where thou sittest, for only two days ago I skewered a man over back of Nottingham Town for saying not half so much to me as thou hast done.  I wear this garb, thou fool, to keep my body warm; likewise it is near as good as a coat of steel against a common sword-thrust.  As for my name, I care not who knoweth it.  It is Guy of Gisbourne, and thou mayst have heard it before.  I come from the woodlands over in Herefordshire, upon the lands of the Bishop of that ilk.  I am an outlaw, and get my living by hook and by crook in a manner it boots not now to tell of.  Not long since the Bishop sent for me, and said that if I would do a certain thing that the Sheriff of Nottingham would ask of me, he would get me a free pardon, and give me tenscore pounds to boot.  So straightway I came to Nottingham Town and found my sweet Sheriff; and what thinkest thou he wanted of me?  Why, forsooth, to come here to Sherwood to hunt up one Robin Hood, also an outlaw, and to take him alive or dead.  It seemeth that they have no one here to face that bold fellow, and so sent all the way to Herefordshire, and to me, for thou knowest the old saying, ‘Set a thief to catch a thief.’  As for the slaying of this fellow, it galleth me not a whit, for I would shed the blood of my own brother for the half of two hundred pounds.”