done, he nocked the arrow and stood in position, and all around was so hushed that you might have heard the falling of a leaf. Then he drew the string quickly to his ear, and straightened his bow arm, and ere you could draw a breath loosed the string with a twang. So swift flew the arrow that the eye could not follow it, but a great shout went up from the yeomen when it had sped, and Will Scathelock ran leaping and brought the wand, and lo, the arrow was sticking in the wood which it had cleft. Then all the yeomen shouted again till those about the fires came running, for they were proud of their master’s skill, which none could hope to match.

Robin Hood shoots before the Bishop and the Knight.

But meantime Robin had set him down again between his guests; then, without giving them time for word of praise, he called upon those of his band who were the most deft at quarterstaff. So they sat and watched the game till the shades of evening fell, and there was no light in which to give stroke or parry.

Robin Hood cleaves the wand.

Then Allan a Dale came forth and tuned his harp, and all was hushed around, and he sang Allan a Dale in his wonderous voice songs of love, of sings before the war, of glory, and of sadness, and all lis- guests. tened without a movement or a sound. So Allan sang till the great round silver moon gleamed with its clear white light amid the upper tangle of the mazy branches of the trees.

At last two fellows came to say that the feast was ready spread, so Robin, leading his guests with either hand, brought them to where great smoking dishes, that sent savory smells far and near, stood along the white linen cloth spread on the grass. All around was a glare of torches that lit everything up with a red light. Then, straightway sitting down, all fell to with noise and hubbub, the rattling of platters blending with the sound of loud talking and laughter. A long time the feast lasted, but at last all was over, and the bright wine and humming ale passed briskly. Then Robin Hood called aloud for silence, and all was hushed till he spoke.

Robin Hood feasts the Bishop of Hereford and Sir Richard of the Lea.

“I have a story to tell you all, so listen to what I have to say,” quoth he; whereupon, without more ado, he told them all about Sir Richard, and how his lands were in pawn. But, as he went on, the Bishop’s face, that had erst been smiling and ruddy with merriment, waxed serious, and he put aside the horn of wine he held in his hand, for he knew the story of Sir Richard, and his heart sank within him with grim forebodings. Then, when Robin Hood had done, he turned to the Bishop of Hereford. “Now, my Lord Bishop,” said he, “dost thou not think this is ill done of any one, much more of a churchman, who should live in humbleness and charity?”

Robin Hood tellelh the story of Sir Richard of the Lea.

To this the Bishop answered not a word, but looked upon the ground with moody eyes.

Quoth Robin, “Now, thou art the richest bishop in all England; canst thou not help this needy brother?” But still the Bishop answered not a word.

Robin Hood asketh the Bishop to aid the Knight.

Then Robin turned to Little John, and quoth he, “Go thou and Will Stutely and bring forth those five pack-horses yonder.” Whereupon the two yeomen did as they were bidden, those about the cloth making room on the green, where the light was brightest, for the five horses which Little John and Will Stutely presently led forward.

“Who hath the score of the goods?” asked Robin Hood, looking at the Black Friars.

Then up spake the smallest of all, in a trembling voice,—an old man he was, with a gentle, wrinkled face. “That have I; but, I pray thee, harm me not.”

Robin Hood orders the Bishop’s pack-horses to be brought forth.

“Nay,” quoth Robin, “I have never harmed harmless man yet; but give it to me, good father.” So the old man did as he was bidden, and handed Robin the tablet on which was marked down the account of the various packages upon the horses. This Robin handed to Will Scarlet, bidding him to read the same. So Will