“Nay, then,” quoth Jocelyn, reaching for his sword, “I must out and aid my comrades.”
“Alack!” sighed the old woman. “Thy comrades do without lie all slain save one that groaneth—hearken!”
“O, woe!” mourned a quavering voice beyond the door. “O, woe, sore hurted I be, and like to die—and I a tanner!”
Very heedfully, Jocelyn unbarred the door, and peering into the narrow street, found it deserted and empty save for certain outstretched forms that stirred not; looking down on these dim shapes he knew one for Rick the Ploughman, whose ploughing days were sped and, huddled in a corner hard by, he found Will the Tanner, who groaned fitfully; but of Sir Pertinax and Gurth he saw nothing. So Jocelyn made shift to bear the Tanner within the house, and here Will, finding his hurts of small account, sat up, and while the wise old woman bandaged his wound, answered Jocelyn's eager questions, and told how Sir Pertinax and Gurth the Dyer had broken through their assailants and made good their escape.
Now, when the old woman had thus cherished their hurts, Jocelyn would fain have given her money, but she mumbled and mowed and cracked her finger-joints and shook grey head.
“Not so, good Fool!” she croaked, “for I do know thee for that same gentle Motley did save me from Black Lewin—a murrain seize him! So now will I save thee—behold!” So saying she set bony hand to wall; and lo! in the wall yawned a square opening narrow and dark, whence issued a cold wind. “Begone, thou brave merryman!” quoth she. “Yonder safety lieth; this darksome way shall carry thee out beneath the city wall!”
“Gramercy, thou kindly Witch!” said Jocelyn. “Yet first must I to the watch-house beside the gate for one Robin that lieth 'prisoned there.”
“How, Fool, dost mean Robin-a-Green that is to hang?”
“In truth!”
“But Rob o' the Green is outlawed, banned o' Church, a very rogue!”