So saying, he crept into the pantry and looked about him to see if he could find something to appease his hunger.  He saw a great venison pasty and two roasted capons, beside which was a platter of plover’s eggs; moreover, there was a flask of sack and one of canary—­a sweet sight to a hungry man.  These he took down from the shelves and placed upon a sideboard, and prepared to make himself merry.

Now the Cook, in the kitchen across the courtyard, heard the loud talking between Little John and the Steward, and also the blow that Little John struck the other, so he came running across the court and up the stairway to where the Steward’s pantry was, bearing in his hands the spit with the roast still upon it.  Meanwhile the Steward had gathered his wits about him and risen to his feet, so that when the Cook came to the Steward’s pantry he saw him glowering through the broken door at Little John, who was making ready for a good repast, as one dog glowers at another that has a bone.  When the Steward saw the Cook, he came to him, and, putting one arm over his shoulder, “Alas, sweet friend!” quoth he—­for the Cook was a tall, stout man—­“seest thou what that vile knave Reynold Greenleaf hath done?  He hath broken in upon our master’s goods, and hath smitten me a buffet upon the ear, so that I thought I was dead.  Good Cook, I love thee well, and thou shalt have a good pottle of our master’s best wine every day, for thou art an old and faithful servant.  Also, good Cook, I have ten shillings that I mean to give as a gift to thee.  But hatest thou not to see a vile upstart like this Reynold Greenleaf taking it upon him so bravely?”

“Ay, marry, that do I,” quoth the Cook boldly, for he liked the Steward because of his talk of the wine and of the ten shillings.  “Get thee gone straightway to thy room, and I will bring out this knave by his ears.”  So saying, he laid aside his spit and drew the sword that hung by his side; whereupon the Steward left as quickly as he could, for he hated the sight of naked steel.

Then the Cook walked straightway to the broken pantry door, through which he saw Little John tucking a napkin beneath his chin and preparing to make himself merry.

“Why, how now, Reynold Greenleaf?” said the Cook, “thou art no better than a thief, I wot.  Come thou straight forth, man, or I will carve thee as I would carve a sucking pig.”

“Nay, good Cook, bear thou thyself more seemingly, or else I will come forth to thy dole.  At most times I am as a yearling lamb, but when one cometh between me and my meat, I am a raging lion, as it were.”

“Lion or no lion,” quoth the valorous Cook, “come thou straight forth, else thou art a coward heart as well as a knavish thief.”

“Ha!” cried Little John, “coward’s name have I never had; so, look to thyself, good Cook, for I come forth straight, the roaring lion I did speak of but now.”