“Thou art right; that is the man,” said Little John.

“A good stout fellow,” quoth Robin.  “I saw him crack Ned o’ Bradford’s crown about a fortnight since, and never saw I hair lifted more neatly in all my life before.”

By this time the young miller had come so near that they could see him clearly.  His clothes were dusted with flour, and over his back he carried a great sack of meal, bending so as to bring the whole weight upon his shoulders, and across the sack was a thick quarterstaff.  His limbs were stout and strong, and he strode along the dusty road right sturdily with the heavy sack across his shoulders.  His cheeks were ruddy as a winter hip, his hair was flaxen in color, and on his chin was a downy growth of flaxen beard.

“A good honest fellow,” quoth Robin Hood, “and such an one as is a credit to English yeomanrie.  Now let us have a merry jest with him.  We will forth as though we were common thieves and pretend to rob him of his honest gains.  Then will we take him into the forest and give him a feast such as his stomach never held in all his life before.  We will flood his throat with good canary and send him home with crowns in his purse for every penny he hath.  What say ye, lads?”

“Truly, it is a merry thought,” said Will Scarlet.

“It is well planned,” quoth Little John, “but all the saints preserve us from any more drubbings this day!  Marry, my poor bones ache so that I—­”

“Prythee peace, Little John,” quoth Robin.  “Thy foolish tongue will get us both well laughed at yet.”

“My foolish tongue, forsooth,” growled Little John to Arthur a Bland.  “I would it could keep our master from getting us into another coil this day.”

But now the Miller, plodding along the road, had come opposite to where the yeomen lay hidden, whereupon all four of them ran at him and surrounded him.

“Hold, friend!” cried Robin to the Miller; whereupon he turned slowly, with the weight of the bag upon his shoulder, and looked at each in turn all bewildered, for though a good stout man his wits did not skip like roasting chestnuts.

“Who bids me stay?” said the Miller in a voice deep and gruff, like the growl of a great dog.

“Marry, that do I,” quoth Robin; “and let me tell thee, friend, thou hadst best mind my bidding.”

“And who art thou, good friend?” said the Miller, throwing the great sack of meal from his shoulder to the ground, “and who are those with thee?”

“We be four good Christian men,” quoth Robin, “and would fain help thee by carrying part of thy heavy load.”

“I give you all thanks,” said the Miller, “but my bag is none that heavy that I cannot carry it e’en by myself.”

“Nay, thou dost mistake,” quoth Robin, “I meant that thou mightest perhaps have some heavy farthings or pence about thee, not to speak of silver and gold.  Our good Gaffer Swanthold sayeth that gold is an overheavy burden for a two-legged ass to carry; so we would e’en lift some of this load from thee.”