“Then you would do wrong, good Master Nicholas,” rejoined Potts, with a smile of supreme contempt; “for the law is the better guardian and the stronger adversary of the two, and so Sir Thomas will find if he takes my advice, and obtains, as he can and will do, a perfect title juris et seisinae conjunctionem.”

“Sir Thomas is still willing to refer the case to my arbitrament, I believe, sir?” demanded Sir Ralph, uneasily.

“He was so, Sir Ralph,” rejoined Potts, “unless the assaults and batteries, with intent to do him grievous corporeal hurt, which he hath sustained from your relatives, have induced a change of mind in him.  But as I premised, Sir Ralph, I am a man of peace, and willing to intermediate.”

“Provided you get your fee, master lawyer,” observed Nicholas, sarcastically.

“Certainly, I object not to the quiddam honorarium, Master Nicholas,” rejoined Potts; “and if my client hath the quid pro quo, and gaineth his point, he cannot complain.—­But what is this?  Some fresh disturbance!”

“Something hath happened to the May Queen,” cried Nicholas.

“I trust not,” said Sir Ralph, with real concern.  “Ha! she has fainted.  They are bringing her this way.  Poor maid! what can have occasioned this sudden seizure?”

“I think I could give a guess,” muttered Nicholas.  “Better remove her to the Abbey,” he added aloud to the knight.

“You are right,” said Sir Ralph.  “Our cousin Dick is near her, I observe.  He shall see her conveyed there at once.”

At this moment Lady Assheton and Mrs. Nutter, with some of the other ladies, came up.

“Just in time, Nell,” cried the knight.  “Have you your smelling-bottle about you?  The May Queen has fainted.”

“Indeed!” exclaimed Lady Assheton, springing towards Alizon, who was now sustained by young Richard Assheton; the forester having surrendered her to him.  “How has this happened?” she inquired, giving her to breathe at a small phial.

“That I cannot tell you, cousin,” replied Richard Assheton, “unless from some sudden fright.”

“That was it, Master Richard,” cried Robin Hood; “she cried out on hearing the clashing of swords just now, and, I think, pronounced your name, on finding you engaged with Sir Thomas, and immediately after turned pale, and would have fallen if I had not caught her.”

“Ah, indeed!” exclaimed Lady Assheton, glancing at Richard, whose eyes fell before her inquiring gaze.  “But see, she revives,” pursued the lady.  “Let me support her head.”

As she spoke Alizon opened her eyes, and perceiving Richard Assheton, who had relinquished her to his relative, standing beside her, she exclaimed, “Oh! you are safe!  I feared”—­And then she stopped, greatly embarrassed.

“You feared he might be in danger from his fierce adversary,” supplied Lady Assheton; “but no.  The conflict is happily over, and he is unhurt.”