“There is your reckoning, host, upon the table. I must e’en go upon my way, because I have more important business than to stand here gossiping with you. But be not surprised, if, the next time you see me, I shall have with me no less person than Robin Hood himself!”
And he strode loftily out the door and walked up the hot white road toward Barnesdale.
He had not gone above a quarter of a mile when he met a young man with curling brown hair and merry eyes. The young man carried his light cloak over his arm, because of the heat, and was unarmed save for a light sword at his side. The newcomer eyed the perspiring tinker in a friendly way, and seeing he was a stout fellow accosted him.
“Good-day to you!” said he.
“Good-day to you!” said the tinker; “and a morrow less heating.”
“Aye,” laughed the other. “Whence come you? And know you the news?”
“What is the news?” said the gossipy tinker, pricking up his ear; “I am a tinker by trade, Middle by name, and come from over against Banbury.”
“Why as for the news,” laughed the stranger, “I hear that two tinkers were set i’ the stocks for drinking too much ale and beer.”
“If that be all your news,” retorted Middle, “I can beat you clear to the end of the lane.”
“What news have you? Seeing that you go from town to town, I ween you can outdo a poor country yokel at tidings.”