Sir Richard Returns

On his arrival Sir Richard had quietly gone round to his old tenants in York, and had a goodly company of them ready to ride with him, but he was minded to test the charity and true religion of the abbot, and bade his followers a.s.sume pilgrims' robes. Thus attired, the company rode to the abbey gate, where the porter recognised Sir Richard, and the news of his coming, carried to the abbot and justice, caused them great grief; but the prior rejoiced, hoping that a cruel injustice would be prevented. As they dismounted the porter loudly called grooms to lead the horses into the stable and have them relieved of their burdens, but Sir Richard would not allow it, and left Little John to watch over them at the abbey portal.

The Abbot and Sir Richard

Then Sir Richard came humbly into the hall, where a great banquet was in progress, and knelt down in courteous salutation to the abbot and his guests; but the prelate, who had made up his mind what conduct to adopt, greeted him coldly, and many men did not return his salutation at all. Sir Richard spoke aloud: "Rejoice, Sir Abbot, for I am come to keep my day." "That is well," replied the monk, "but hast thou brought the money?" "No money have I, not one penny," continued Sir Richard sadly. "Pledge me in good red wine, Sir Justice," cried the abbot callously; "the land is mine. And what dost thou here, Sir Richard, a broken man, with no money to pay thy debt?" "I am come to beg you to grant me a longer time for repayment." "Not one minute past the appointed hour," said the exultant prelate. "Thou hast broken pledge, and thy land is forfeit."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Sir Richard knelt in courteous salutation"]

Sir Richard Implores the Justice

Still kneeling, Sir Richard turned to the justice and said: "Good Sir Justice, be my friend and plead for me." "No," he replied, "I hold to the law, and can give thee no help." "Gentle abbot, have pity on me, and let me have my land again, and I will be the humble servant of your monastery till I have repaid in full your four hundred pounds."

Then the cruel prelate swore a terrible oath that never should the knight have his land again, and no one in the hall would speak for him, kneeling there poor, friendless, and alone; so at last he began to threaten violence. "Unless I have my land again," quoth he, "some of you here shall dearly abide it. Now may I see the poor man has no friends, for none will stand by me in my need."

The Justice Suggests a Compromise

The hint of violence made the abbot furiously angry, and, secure in his position and the support of the justice, he shouted loudly: "Out, thou false knight! Out of my hall!" Then at last Sir Richard rose to his feet in just wrath. "Thou liest, Sir Abbot; foully thou liest! I was never a false knight. In joust and tourney I have adventured as far and as boldly as any man alive. There is no true courtesy in thee, abbot, to suffer a knight to kneel so long." The quarrel now seemed so serious that the justice intervened, saying to the angry prelate, "What will you give me if I persuade him to sign a legal deed of release? Without it you will never hold this land in peace." "You shall have a hundred pounds for yourself," said the abbot, and the justice nodded in token of a.s.sent.

Sir Richard Pays the Money

Now Sir Richard thought it was time to drop the mask, for noon was nigh, and he would not risk his land again. Accordingly he cried: "Nay, but not so easily shall ye have my lands. Even if you were to pay a thousand pounds more you should not hold my father's estate.

Have here your money back again"; and, calling for Little John, he bade him bring into the hall his coffer with the bags inside. Then he counted out on the table four hundred good golden pounds, and said sternly: "Abbot, here is your money again. Had you but been courteous to me I would have rewarded you well; now take your money, give me a quittance, and I will take my lands once more. Ye are all witnesses that I have kept my day and have paid in full." Thereupon Sir Richard strode haughtily out of the hall, and rode home gladly to his recovered lands in Uterysdale, where he and his family ever prayed for Robin Hood. The abbot of St. Mary's was bitterly enraged, for he had lost the fair lands of Sir Richard of the Lea and had received a bare four hundred pounds again. As for Little John, he went back to the forest and told his master the whole story, to Robin Hood's great satisfaction, for he enjoyed the chance of thwarting the schemes of a wealthy and usurious prelate.

Sir Richard Sets Out to Repay the Loan

When a year had pa.s.sed all but a few days, Sir Richard of the Lea said to his wife: "Lady, I must shortly go to Barnesdale to repay Robin Hood the loan which saved my lands, and would fain take him some small gift in addition; what do you advise?" "Sir Richard, I would take a hundred bows of Spanish yew and a hundred sheaves of arrows, peac.o.c.k-feathered, or grey-goose-feathered; methinks that will be to Robin a most acceptable gift."

Sir Richard followed his wife's advice, and on the morning of the appointed day set out to keep his tryst at the outlaws' oak in Barnesdale, with the money duly counted, and the bows and arrows for his present to the outlaw chief.

The Wrestling

As he rode, however, at the head of his troop he pa.s.sed through a village where there was a wrestling contest, which he stayed to watch.

He soon saw that the victorious wrestler, who was a stranger to the village, would be defrauded of his well-earned prize, which consisted of a white bull, a n.o.ble charger gaily caparisoned, a gold ring, a pipe of wine, and a pair of embroidered gloves. This seemed so wrong to Sir Richard that he stayed to defend the right, for love of Robin Hood and of justice, and kept the wrestling ring in awe with his well-appointed troop of men, so that the stranger was allowed to claim his prize and carry it off. Sir Richard, anxious not to arouse the hostility of the villagers, bought the pipe of wine from the winner, and, setting it abroach, allowed all who would to drink; and so, in a tumult of cheers and blessings, he rode away to keep his tryst. By this time, however, it was nearly three in the afternoon, and he should have been there at twelve. He comforted himself with the thought that Robin would forgive the delay, for the sake of its cause, and so rode on comfortably enough at the head of his gallant company.

Robin's Impatience

In the meantime Robin had waited patiently at the trysting tree till noon, but when the hour pa.s.sed and Sir Richard had not appeared he began to grow impatient. "Master, let us dine," said Little John. "I cannot; I fear Our Lady is angered with me, for she has not sent me my money," returned the leader; but his follower replied: "The money is not due till sunset, master, and Our Lady is true, and so is Sir Richard; have no fear." "Do you three walk up through the willow plantation to Watling Street, as you did last year, and bring me a guest," said Robin Hood. "He may be a messenger, a minstrel, a poor man, but he will come in G.o.d's name."

The Monks Approach

Again the three yeomen, Little John, Will Scarlet, and Much the miller's son, took bow in hand and set out for Watling Street; but this time they had not long to wait, for they at once saw a little procession approaching. Two black monks rode at the head; then followed seven sumpter-mules and a train of fifty-two men, so that the clerics rode in almost royal state. "Seest thou yon monks?" said Little John. "I will pledge my soul that they have brought our pay."

"But they are fifty-four, and we are but three," said Scarlet. "Unless we bring them to dinner we dare not face our master," cried Little John. "Look well to your bows, your strings and arrows, and have stout hearts and steady hands. I will take the foremost monk, for life or death."

The Capture of the Black Monk

The three outlaws stepped out into the road from the shelter of the wood; they bent their bows and held their arrows on the string, and Little John cried aloud: "Stay, churlish monk, or thou goest to thy death, and it will be on thine own head! Evil on thee for keeping our master fasting so long." "Who is your master?" asked the bewildered monk; and Little John replied: "Robin Hood." The monk tossed his head.

"He is a foul thief," cried he, "and will come to a bad end. I have heard no good of him all my days." So speaking, he tried to ride forward and trample down the three yeomen; but Little John cried: "Thou liest, churlish monk, and thou shalt rue the lie. He is a good yeoman of this forest, and has bidden thee to dine with him this day"; and Much, drawing his bow, shot the monk to the heart, so that he fell to the ground dead. The other black monk was taken, but all his followers fled, except a little page, and a groom who tended the sumpter-mules; and thus, with Little John's help and guidance, the panic-stricken cleric and his train of baggage were brought to Robin under the trysting tree.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Much shot the monk to the heart"]

The Outlaws' Feast

Robin Hood doffed his cap and greeted his guest with all courtesy, but the monk would not reply, and Little John's account of their meeting made it evident that he was a churlish and unwilling guest. However, he was obliged to celebrate the three usual Ma.s.ses, was given water for his ablutions before the banquet, and then when the whole fellowship was a.s.sembled he was set in the place of honour at the feast, and reverently served by Robin himself. "Be of good cheer, Sir Monk," said Robin. "Where is your abbey when you are at home, and who is your patron saint?" "I am of St. Mary's Abbey, in York, and, simple though I be, I am the high cellarer."

The High Cellarer and the Suretyship

"For Our Lady's sake," said Robin, "we will give this monk the best of cheer. Drink to me, Sir Monk; the wine is good. But I fear Our Lady is wroth with me, for she has not sent me my money." "Fear not, master,"

returned Little John; "this monk is her cellarer, and no doubt she has made him her messenger and he carries our money with him." "That is likely," replied Robin. "Sir Monk, Our Lady was surety for a little loan between a good knight and me, and to-day the money was to be repaid. If you have brought it, pay it to me now, and I will thank you heartily." The monk was quite amazed, and cried aloud: "I have never heard of such a suretyship"; and as he spoke he looked so anxiously at his sumpter-mules that Robin guessed there was gold in their pack-saddles.

The Monk is Searched

Accordingly the leader feigned sudden anger. "Sir Monk, how dare you defame our dear Lady? She is always true and faithful, and as you say you are her servant, no doubt she has made you her messenger to bring my money. Tell me truly how much you have in your coffers, and I will thank you for coming so punctually." The monk replied: "Sir, I have only twenty marks in my bags"; to which Robin answered: "If that be all, and you have told the truth I will not touch one penny; rather will I lend you some if you need it; but if I find more, I will leave none, Sir Monk, for a religious man should have no silver to spend in luxury." Now the monk looked very greatly alarmed, but he dared make no protest, as Little John began to search his bags and coffers.

Success of the Search

When Little John opened the first coffer he emptied its contents, as before, into his cloak, and counted eight hundred pounds, with which he went to Robin Hood, saying, "Master, the monk has told the truth; here are twenty marks of his own, and eight hundred pounds which Our Lady has sent you in return for your loan." When Robin heard that he cried to the miserable monk: "Did I not say so, monk? Is not Our Lady the best surety a man could have? Has she not repaid me twice? Go back to your abbey and say that if ever St. Mary's monks need a friend they shall find one in Robin Hood."

The Monk Departs

"Where were you journeying?" asked the outlaw leader. "To settle accounts with the bailiffs of our manors," replied the cellarer; but he was in truth journeying to London, to obtain powers from the king against Sir Richard of the Lea. Robin thought for a moment, and then said: "Ah, then we must search your other coffer," and in spite of the cellarer's indignant protests he was deprived of all the money that second coffer contained. Then he was allowed to depart, vowing bitterly that a dinner in Blythe or Doncaster would have cost him much less dear.

Sir Richard Arrives

Late that afternoon Sir Richard of the Lea and his little company arrived at the trysting tree, and full courteously the knight greeted his deliverer and apologised for his delay. Robin asked of his welfare, and the knight told of his protection of the poor wrestler, for which Robin thanked him warmly. When he would fain have repaid the loan the generous outlaw refused to accept the money, though he took with hearty thanks the bows and arrows. In answer to the knight's inquiries, Robin said that he had been paid the money twice over before he came; and he told, to his debtor's great amus.e.m.e.nt, the story of the high cellarer and his eight hundred pounds, and concluded: "Our Lady owed me no more than four hundred pounds, and she now gives you, by me, the other four hundred. Take them, with her blessing, and if ever you need more come to Robin Hood."

So Sir Richard returned to Uterysdale, and long continued to use his power to protect the bold outlaws, and Robin Hood dwelt securely in the greenwood, doing good to the poor and worthy, but acting as a thorn in the sides of all oppressors and tyrants.

CHAPTER XVI: HEREWARD THE WAKE