in a starving mouse.

In the mean time the storm broke. Another gust of wind went rushing by, and with it fell a few heavy drops of rain, which presently came rattling down in showers, beating against the casements like a hundred little hands. Bright flashes of lightning lit up every raindrop, and with them came cracks of thunder that went away rumbling and bumping as though Saint Swithin were busy rolling great casks of water across rough ground overhead. The women-folks screamed, and the merry wags in the tap room put their arms around their waists to soothe them into quietness.

The holy friar likes not to sleep with merry Robin, whom he thinketh is a cobbler.

At last the holy friar bade the landlord show him to his room; but when he heard that he was to bed with a cobbler, he was as ill contented a fellow as you could find in all England, nevertheless, there was nothing for it, and he must sleep there or nowhere ; so, taking up his candle, he went off, grumbling like the now distant thunder.

When he came to the room where he was to sleep he held the light over Robin and looked at him from top to toe; then he felt better pleased, for, instead of a rough, dirty-bearded fellow, he beheld as fresh and clean a lad as one could find in a week of Sundays; so, slipping off his clothes, he also huddled into the bed, where Robin, grunting and grumbling in his sleep, made room for him. Robin was more sound asleep, I wot, than he had been for many a day, else he would never have rested so quietly with one of the friar’s sort so close beside him. As for the friar, had he known whom Robin Hood was, you may well believe he would almost as soon have slept with an adder as with the man he had for a bedfellow.

Robin Hood is amazed at his bedfellow.

So the night passed comfortably enough, but at the first dawn of day Robin opened his eyes and turned his head upon the pillow. Then how he gaped and how he stared, for there beside him lay one all shaven and shorn, so that he knew it must be a fellow in holy orders. He pinched himself sharply, but, finding he was awake, sat up in bed, whilst the other slumbered as peacefully as though he were safe and sound at home in Emmet Priory. “Now,” quoth Robin to himself, “I wonder how this thing hath dropped into my bed during the night.” So saying he arose softly, so as not to waken the other, and looking about the room he espied the Friar’s clothes lying upon a bench near the wall. First he looked at the clothes, with his head on one side, and then he looked at the Friar and slowly winked one eye. Quoth he, “Good brother, What-e‘er-thy-name-may-be, as thou hast borrowed my bed so freely I’ll e’en borrow thy clothes in return.” So saying, he straightway donned the holy man’s garb, but kindly left the cobbler’s clothes in the place of it. Then he went forth into the freshness of the morning, and the stableman that was up and about the stables opened his eyes as though he saw a green mouse before him, for such men as the friar of Emmet were not wont to be early risers; but the man bottled his thoughts, and only asked Robin whether he wanted his mule brought from the stable.

Robin Hood borroweth the clothes of him of Emmet.

“Yea, my son,” quoth Robin,—albeit he knew nought of the mute,—“and bring it forth quickly, I prythee, for I am late and must be jogging.” So presently the stableman brought forth the mule, and Robin mounted it and went on his way rejoicing.

The brother of Emmet dons the cobbler’s clothes and goeth his way.

As for the holy friar, when he arose he was in as pretty a stew as any man in all the world, for his rich, soft robes were gone, likewise his purse with ten golden pounds in it, and nought was left but patched clothes and a leathern apron. He raged and swore like any layman, but as his swearing mended nothing and the landlord could not aid him, and as, moreover, he was forced to be at Emmet Priory that very morning upon matters of business, he was fain either to don the cobbler’s clothes or travel