“Nay,” quoth Robin gravely.  “Speak not so roundly, Your Worship.  I do love thee for the sweet feast thou hast given me this day in merry Nottingham Town; but there be those here who love thee not so much.  If thou wilt look down the cloth thou wilt see Will Stutely, in whose eyes thou hast no great favor; then two other stout fellows are there here that thou knowest not, that were wounded in a brawl nigh Nottingham Town, some time ago—­thou wottest when; one of them was sore hurt in one arm, yet he hath got the use of it again.  Good Sheriff, be advised by me; pay thy score without more ado, or maybe it may fare ill with thee.”

As he spoke the Sheriff’s ruddy cheeks grew pale, and he said nothing more but looked upon the ground and gnawed his nether lip.  Then slowly he drew forth his fat purse and threw it upon the cloth in front of him.

“Now take the purse, Little John,” quoth Robin Hood, “and see that the reckoning be right.  We would not doubt our Sheriff, but he might not like it if he should find he had not paid his full score.”

Then Little John counted the money and found that the bag held three hundred pounds in silver and gold.  But to the Sheriff it seemed as if every clink of the bright money was a drop of blood from his veins.  And when he saw it all counted out in a heap of silver and gold, filling a wooden platter, he turned away and silently mounted his horse.

“Never have we had so worshipful a guest before!” quoth Robin, “and, as the day waxeth late, I will send one of my young men to guide thee out of the forest depths.”

“Nay, Heaven forbid!” cried the Sheriff hastily.  “I can find mine own way, good man, without aid.”

“Then I will put thee on the right track mine own self,” quoth Robin, and, taking the Sheriff’s horse by the bridle rein, he led him into the main forest path.  Then, before he let him go, he said, “Now, fare thee well, good Sheriff, and when next thou thinkest to despoil some poor prodigal, remember thy feast in Sherwood Forest.  ’Ne’er buy a horse, good friend, without first looking into its mouth,’ as our good gaffer Swanthold says.  And so, once more, fare thee well.”  Then he clapped his hand to the horse’s back, and off went nag and Sheriff through the forest glades.

Then bitterly the Sheriff rued the day that first he meddled with Robin Hood, for all men laughed at him and many ballads were sung by folk throughout the country, of how the Sheriff went to shear and came home shorn to the very quick.  For thus men sometimes overreach themselves through greed and guile.

Little John Goes to Nottingham Fair

Spring had gone since the Sheriff’s feast in Sherwood, and summer also, and the mellow month of October had come.  All the air was cool and fresh; the harvests were gathered home, the young birds were full fledged, the hops were plucked, and apples were ripe.  But though time had so smoothed things over that men no longer talked of the horned beasts that the Sheriff wished to buy, he was still sore about the matter and could not bear to hear Robin Hood’s name spoken in his presence.