For many miles he was constantly receiving hails from friends and comrades; sometimes a band of young men would ride with him for a few miles, and then, wishing him good luck, return home again.  At some houses which he passed, bright eyes would look out from the windows, and kerchiefs would be waved in greeting and farewell.

Tom may perhaps be forgiven for regarding himself somewhat in the light of a young prince riding forth to see the world.  Everything in his past life had combined to give him a good opinion of himself, and make him fancy himself irresistible alike with men and women.  For he was undoubtedly the strongest and handsomest youth in his own small world.

He sang and whistled as he rode along in the crisp morning air.  October had dashed the trees with vivid tints of red and gold.  A crisp touch of frost was in the air, and though the noonday sun was bright and hot, there were indications of approaching winter plain to be seen.

They baited their horses for an hour at a little inn where Tom was slightly known; but when he spoke of pressing on, and asked where the next halting place was, mine host advised his remaining where he was till morning, as he was now close to the forest boundaries, and not only were the paths somewhat intricate, but there were always footpads, if not worse, lurking in the recesses of the wood, ready to pounce upon unwary travellers, especially after sundown.

“And the light goes quickly beneath the trees.  For my part, I would rather travel by the waxing light of early morn than by the fading glow of an autumn evening.”

Tom had meant to arrive at this inn full two hours before he did; for he had allowed his friends to hinder him on his way, and had stopped all too often to exchange a word with some maiden watching from a window or by a gate.  He had intended reaching a little village known to Robin, situated in the forest itself, before night fell; and even as it was, he was by no means prepared to abandon the hope of getting there.

Robin was not afraid of darkness or of footpads.  He had a very good knowledge of the forest, and was eager to press on.  It was still quite light, and Tom was in all the fervour of his first impetuosity.  So, as soon as the horses were baited and themselves refreshed, they mounted once more, and pushed gaily along, feeling themselves quite equal to repel any wretched footpads who might try to assault them.

As for the regular highway robbers, well armed and well mounted, they favoured better-frequented routes than this.  Open heaths were their favourite hunting grounds, though they liked well enough to lie in hiding in the forests when they had brought too much notoriety upon themselves.  These unfrequented forest paths did not offer them sufficient hope of booty to attract them in large numbers, and Tom had no fear of meeting an enemy too strong for him.

But security is not always safety, as Tom was destined to find to his cost.  In spite of their best efforts, and the gallant response made by their good horses, dusk fell whilst they were still threading the tortuous forest paths, and Robin was fain to admit that he would be puzzled to find the way in the dark; indeed, he was not certain that he was on the right track now.