The widow, who had been at her spinning wheel, rose up with a cry of alarm.
“Quiet, good mother! ‘Tis I, Robin Hood. Where are your three sons?”
“They should be with you, Robin. Well do you know that. Do they not owe their lives to you?”
“If that be so, I come to seek payment of the debt,” said Robin in a breath. “The Bishop is on my heels with many of his men.”
“I’ll cheat the Bishop and all!” cried the woman quickly. “Here, Robin, change your raiment with me, and we will see if my lord knows an old woman when he sees her.”
“Good!” said Robin. “Pass your gray cloak out the window, and also your spindle and twine; and I will give you my green mantle and everything else down to my bow and arrows.”
While they were talking, Robin had been nimbly changing clothes with the old woman, through the window, and in a jiffy he stood forth complete, even to the spindle and twine.
Presently up dashed the Bishop and his men, and, at sight of the cottage and the old woman, gave pause. The crone was hobbling along with difficulty, leaning heavily upon a gnarled stick and bearing the spindle on her other arm. She would have gone by the Bishop’s company, while muttering to herself, but the Bishop ordered one of his men to question her. The soldier laid his hand upon her shoulder.
“Mind your business!” croaked the woman, “or I’ll curse ye!”
“Come, come, my good woman,” said the soldier, who really was afraid of her curses. “I’ll not molest you. But my lord Bishop of Hereford wants to know if you have seen aught of the outlaw, Robin Hood?”