The moon flung their shadows fantastically upon the sward, and the more their guest struggled the more he was compelled to jump about. Robin put heart into his playing, and laughed with the loudest of them.
At last, quite exhausted, the Bishop sank to the ground.
Little John seized him then like a sack of wood, and flung him across the back of his horse. Rapidly they led the beast across the uneven ground until the highroad was reached, the whole of the band accompanying them, shouting and jesting noisily. The Bishop of Hereford, more dead than alive, was then tied to his horse and the animal headed for Nottingham.
"'Tis the most and the least that we can do for him," said Robin, gleefully. "Give you good night, lording! A fair journey to you! Deliver our respectful homage to Master Monceux and to the rest of law-abiding Nottingham! Come now, Little John, you have borne yourself well this day; and for my part I willingly give the right to be of this worshipful company of free men. What say you, friends all?"
The giant was admitted by acclamation, and then all went back noisily into that hiding-place in Barnesdale which had defied both the ferret eyes of lean-faced Simeon Carfax and the Norman archer Hubert.
The Sheriff of Nottingham learned next day that Sherwood had not been purged of its toll-collectors, as he had so fondly hoped.
CHAPTER XVIII
After the adventure with the good Bishop, Robin and his men waited in some trepidation for a sign from Nottingham.
However, several weeks passed without any untoward incident.