“By my troth, that is Sir Guy of Gisborne’s horn,” quoth the Sheriff; “and he bade me not to delay answering its summons. He has caught Robin Hood.”
“Pardon, Excellency,” said one of his men; “but if he has caught Robin Hood, this is a merry day indeed. And let us save this fellow and build another gallows and hang them both together.”
“That’s a brave thought!” said the Sheriff slapping his knee. “Take the rascal down and bind him fast to the gallows-tree against our return.”
So Little John was made fast to the gallows-tree, while the Sheriff and all his men who could march or hobble went out to get Robin Hood and bring him in for the double hanging.
Let us leave talking of Little John and the Sheriff, and see what has become of Robin Hood.
In the first place, he and Little John had come near having a quarrel that self-same morning because both had seen a curious looking yeoman, and each wanted to challenge him singly. But Robin would not give way to his lieutenant, and that is why John, in a huff, had gone with Will to Barnesdale.
Meanwhile Robin approached the curious looking stranger. He seemed to be a three-legged creature at first sight, but on coming nearer you would have seen that ‘twas really naught but a poorly clad man, who for a freak had covered up his rags with a capul-hide, nothing more nor less than the sun-dried skin of a horse, complete with head, tail, and mane. The skin of the head made a helmet; while the tail gave the curious three-legged appearance.
“Good-morrow, good fellow,” said Robin cheerily, “methinks by the bow you bear in your hand that you should be a good archer.”
“Indifferent good,” said the other returning his greeting; “but ‘tis not of archery that I am thinking this morning, for I have lost my way and would fain find it again.”
“By my faith, I could have believed ‘twas your wits you’d lost!” thought Robin smiling. Then aloud: “I’ll lead you through the wood,” quoth he, “an you will tell me your business. For belike your speech is much gentler than your attire.”