"Where is this marriage to be held?" asked Little John.
"In Plympton church," sighed the minstrel.
"Then to Plympton we will go, by my beard!" cried the giant, "and Monceux may meanwhile scour Barnesdale for us in vain! Thus virtue is plainly its own reward."
"Well planned, indeed, Little John. Fill quivers, friends, and let us go. This shall be a strange marriage-day for your baron, Allan—if the lady be not stubborn. You must move her, if she be cross with you. We will do all other duties."
They travelled through one of their many secret ways towards Plympton. The sun shone high in the heavens ere they had come within sight of the small square church.
Without the building they espied a guard of ten archers liveried in scarlet and gold. Robin bade the rest to approach under cover of the hedgerows. He then borrowed Allan's cloak and harp, and stepped out boldly towards the church.
A few villagers were gathered about the archers; and Robin mingled with these, asking many quaint questions, and giving odd answers to any who asked in turn of him. Hearing the laughter and chattering, the Bishop who was to perform the marriage came to the church door all in his fine robes and looked severely forth.
"What is the meaning of this unseemliness?" asked he, in well-known tones.
Robin saw that here was my lord of Hereford again! He answered, modestly: "I am a harper, good my lord. Shall I not make a song to fit this happy day?"
"Welcome, minstrel, if such you are," said the Bishop. "Music pleases me right well, and you shall sing to us."