All this time and for six weeks later that he dwelt in Nottingham the King could hear nothing of Robin, who seemed to have vanished into the earth with his merry men, though one by one the deer were vanishing too!

At last one day a forester came to the King, and told him that if he would see Robin he must come with him and take five of his best knights.  The King eagerly sprang up to do his bidding, and the six men clad in monk’s clothes mounted their palfreys and rode down to the Abbey, the King wearing an Abbot’s broad hat over his crown and singing as he passed through the greenwood.

Suddenly at the turn of the path Robin and his archers appeared before them.

“By your leave, Sir Abbot,” said Robin, seizing the King’s bridle, “you will stay a while with us.  Know that we are yeomen, who live upon the King’s deer, and other food have we none.  Now you have abbeys and churches, and gold in plenty; therefore give us some of it, in the name of holy charity.”

“I have no more than forty pounds with me,” answered the King, “but sorry I am it is not a hundred, for you should have had it all.”

So Robin took the forty pounds, and gave half to his men, and then told the King he might go on his way.  “I thank you,” said the King, “but I would have you know that our liege lord has bid me bear you his seal, and pray you to come to Nottingham.”

At this message Robin bent his knee.

    “I love no man in all the world
     So well as I do my King,”

he cried, “and, Sir Abbot, for thy tidings, which fill my heart with joy, to-day thou shalt dine with me, for love of my King.”  Then he led the King into an open place, and Robin took a horn and blew it loud, and at its blast seven-score of young men came speedily to do his will.

“They are quicker to do his bidding than my men are to do mine,” said the King to himself.

Speedily the foresters set out the dinner, venison and white bread, and Robin and Little John served the King.  “Make good cheer, Abbot, for charity,” said Robin, “and then you shall see what sort of life we lead, that so you may tell our King.”

When he had finished eating the archers took their bows, and hung rose-garlands up with a string, and every man was to shoot through the garland.  If he failed, he should have a buffet on the head from Robin.

Good bowmen as they were, few managed to stand the test.  Little John and Will Scarlett, and Much, all shot wide of the mark, and at length no one was left in but Robin himself and Gilbert of the White Hand.  Then Robin fired his last bolt, and it fell three fingers from the garland.  “Master,” said Gilbert, “you have lost, stand forth and take your punishment.”

“I will take it,” answered Robin, “but, Sir Abbot, I pray you that I may suffer it at your hands.”

The King hesitated.  “It did not become him,” he said, “to smite such a stout yeoman,” but Robin bade him smite on; so he turned up his sleeve, and gave Robin such a buffet on the head that he rolled upon the ground.