“‘Tell us, dear master,’ exclaimed Will Scarlet, ‘who has done this?’
“Robin Hood sighed deeply. ‘I’ve roved in these woods for many years,’ he said, ‘but never have I been so hard beset as on this day. A beggar with an old patched cloak, for whom I would not have given a straw, has so hasted my back with his pike-staff that it will be many a day ere Robin Hood will lead his merry men again.—See! see!’ he added as he raised his head;—‘there goes the man, on yonder hill, with three hats upon his head. My friends,—if you love your master,—go and revenge this deed;—bring him back to me, and let me see with mine own eyes the punishment you’ll give him.’
“‘One of us shall remain with thee,’ replied Will; ‘thou’rt ill at ease. The other two will quickly bring back yon evil-minded miscreant.’
“‘Nay, nay,’ returned the discomfited outlaw; ‘by my troth ye will have enough to do if he once get scope for that villanous staff of his.—Go, all of ye,—seize him suddenly—bind him fast, and bring him here, that I may repay him for these hard blows that he has given me.’
“Will Scarlet and his two companions started off as fast as they could run, dashing onward through many a miry pool, and over many a tiring hill, until they arrived at a part of the road that wound through the forest by a way at least a mile and a half nearer than the beaten path that the beggar had taken. There was a dense copse of trees in the bottom of a valley through which a little brook gently streamed, and the road-way ran close to it. The foresters, well acquainted with every acre of the ground which they so often traversed, took advantage of this grove, and concealed themselves behind the well covered branches. In the mean while the old beggar rejoicing in the victory he had so lately obtained, walked sturdily on, as briskly as age and his weary limbs would allow him. He passed by the copse without the least suspicion of lurking danger, but had proceeded only a step or two farther when his staff was violently seized by one of the foresters, and a dagger was pointed to his breast, with threats of vengeance if he resisted.
“‘Oh! spare my life,’ cried the beggar, at once relinquishing his hold, ‘and take away that ugly knife. What have I done to deserve this? I am but a poor beggar, who has never wronged thee or thine.’
“‘Thou liest, false carle,’ replied Will, ‘thou hast well nigh slain the noblest man that e’er trod the forest grass. Back shalt thou go to him, and before yon sun sinks down thy carcase shall be dangling from the highest tree in Barnesdale.’
“The beggar was sorely frightened at this terrible threat; he had lost his only weapon, and his aged limbs were but a poor match against three stout young men. He began to despair and to give himself up as lost, when a thought struck him. ‘Brave gentlemen,’ he said, ‘why take ye a poor man’s blood? ’Twill make ye none the richer. If ye will give me liberty, and promise to do me no more harm, I have a hundred golden pounds in this meal-bag, that shall be yours.’ The foresters whispered together and determined to get the money first, come afterwards what might.
“‘Give us thy money,’ said Will, ‘and we’ll let thee go thy way.’ The beggar unfastened the clasp of his belt, and taking it from his neck, spread the meal-bag upon the grass, while the young men anxious for the gold, bent over, eager to seize upon the expected prize. The old fellow pretended to search very diligently at the bottom of the bag, and pulled out a peck or two of meal, which he piled into a heap; then watching his opportunity, he filled both hands full, and threw it violently in the faces of the outlaws, who, blinded and astonished, began to rub their eyes most woefully. The beggar sprung up in a moment, seized his staff, and in a twinkling began to belabour their backs and shoulders.