And now it was well for that yeoman that a tree stood nigh him beside the road, else had he had an ill chance of it.  Ere one could say “Gaffer Downthedale” the hounds were upon him, and he had only time to drop his sword and leap lightly into the tree, around which the hounds gathered, looking up at him as though he were a cat on the eaves.  But the Friar quickly called off his dogs.  “At ’em!” cried he, pointing down the road to where the yeomen were standing stock still with wonder of what they saw.  As the hawk darts down upon its quarry, so sped the four dogs at the yeomen; but when the four men saw the hounds so coming, all with one accord, saving only Will Scarlet, drew each man his goose feather to his ear and let fly his shaft.

And now the old ballad telleth of a wondrous thing that happened, for thus it says, that each dog so shot at leaped lightly aside, and as the arrow passed him whistling, caught it in his mouth and bit it in twain.  Now it would have been an ill day for these four good fellows had not Will Scarlet stepped before the others and met the hounds as they came rushing.  “Why, how now, Fangs!” cried he sternly.  “Down, Beauty!  Down, sirrah!  What means this?”

At the sound of his voice each dog shrank back quickly and then straightway came to him and licked his hands and fawned upon him, as is the wont of dogs that meet one they know.  Then the four yeomen came forward, the hounds leaping around Will Scarlet joyously.  “Why, how now!” cried the stout Friar, “what means this?  Art thou wizard to turn those wolves into lambs?  Ha!” cried he, when they had come still nearer, “can I trust mine eyes?  What means it that I see young Master William Gamwell in such company?”

“Nay, Tuck,” said the young man, as the four came forward to where Robin was now clambering down from the tree in which he had been roosting, he having seen that all danger was over for the time; “nay, Tuck, my name is no longer Will Gamwell, but Will Scarlet; and this is my good uncle, Robin Hood, with whom I am abiding just now.”

“Truly, good master,” said the Friar, looking somewhat abashed and reaching out his great palm to Robin, “I ha’ oft heard thy name both sung and spoken of, but I never thought to meet thee in battle.  I crave thy forgiveness, and do wonder not that I found so stout a man against me.”

“Truly, most holy father,” said Little John, “I am more thankful than e’er I was in all my life before that our good friend Scarlet knew thee and thy dogs.  I tell thee seriously that I felt my heart crumble away from me when I saw my shaft so miss its aim, and those great beasts of thine coming straight at me.”

“Thou mayst indeed be thankful, friend,” said the Friar gravely.  “But, Master Will, how cometh it that thou dost now abide in Sherwood?”

“Why, Tuck, dost thou not know of my ill happening with my father’s steward?” answered Scarlet.

“Yea, truly, yet I knew not that thou wert in hiding because of it.  Marry, the times are all awry when a gentleman must lie hidden for so small a thing.”