great sport, for I know that thou art fond of hunting the dun deer. Lay by thy mantle of melancholy, and strive to lead a joyous yeoman life for three stout days. I promise thee thou shalt be sorry to go when the time has come.”

Robin Hood constrains the Bishop of Hereford to abide with him in the greenwood.

So the Bishop and his train abided with Robin for three days, and much sport his lordship had in that time, so that, as Robin had said, when the time had come for him to go he was sorry to leave the greenwood. At the end of three days Robin set him free, and sent him forth from the forest with a guard of yeomen to keep freebooters from taking what was left of the packs and bundles.

But, as the Bishop rode away, he vowed within himself that he would sometime make Robin rue the day that he stopped him in Sherwood.

But now we shall follow Sir Richard; so listen, and you shall hear what befell him, and how he paid his debts at Emmet Priory, and likewise in due season to Robin Hood.

II.

How Sir Richard of the Lea paid his Debts to Emmet.

THE long highway stretched straight on, gray and dusty in the sun. On either side were dykes full of water bordered by osiers, and far away in the distance stood the towers of Emmet Priory with tall poplar trees around.

Along the causeway rode a knight with a score of stout men-at-arms behind him. The Knight was clad in a plain long robe of gray serge, gathered in at the waist with a broad leathern belt, from which hung a long dagger and a stout sword. But though he was so plainly dressed himself, the horse he rode was a noble barb, and its trappings were rich with silk and silver bells.

Sir Richard of the Lea cometh riding to Emmet Priory.

So thus the band journeyed along the causeway between the dykes, till at last they reached the great gate of Emmet Priory. There the Knight called to one of his men and bade him knock at the porter’s lodge with the haft of his sword.

The porter was drowsing on his bench within the lodge, but at the knock he roused himself and, opening the wicket, came hobbling forth and greeted the Knight, whilst a tame starling that hung in a wicker cage within piped out, “In cœlo quies! In cœlo quies!” such being the words that the poor old lame porter had taught him to speak.

“Where is thy prior?” asked the Knight of the old porter.

“He is at meat, good knight, and he looketh for thy coming,” quoth the porter, “for, if I mistake not, thou art Sir Richard o’ the Lea.”

“I am Sir Richard of the Lea; then I will go seek him forthwith,” said the Knight.

“But shall I not send thy horse to stable?” said the porter. “By Our Lady, it is the noblest nag, and the best harnessed, that e’er I saw in all my life before.” And he stroked the horse’s flank with his palm.

“Nay,” quoth Sir Richard, “the stables of this place are not for me, so make way, I prythee.” So saying he pushed forward, and, the gates being opened, he entered the stony courtyard of the Priory, his men behind him. In they came with rattle of steel and clashing of swords, and ring of horses’ feet on cobble-stones, whereat a flock of pigeons that strutted in the sun flew with flapping wings to the high eaves of the round towers.

Whilst the Knight was riding along the causeway to Emmet, a merry feast was toward in the refectory there. The afternoon sun streamed in through the great arched windows, and lay in broad squares of light upon the stone floor and across the board covered with a snowy linen cloth, whereon was spread a princely feast. At the head of the table sat Prior Vincent of Emmet all clad in soft robes of fine cloth and silk; on his head was a black velvet cap picked out with gold, and around his neck hung a heavy chain of gold, with a great locket pendant therefrom. Beside him, on the arm of his great chair, roosted his favorite falcon, for the Prior was fond of the gentle craft of hawking. On his right hand sat the Sheriff of Nottingham in rich robes of purple all trimmed about with fur, and on his left a