"And why will I not earn the hundred pieces, gossip?" said he, with a deadly calm in his manner.
"Where our Sheriff has failed, and a Bishop also, it is not likely that a mere tinker will succeed," mine host answered. "Pay me for your ale, gossip, and go on your way."
The tinker approached and laid a heavy hand upon the innkeeper's fat shoulder. "Friend," he said, impressively, "I am one not noted either for dullness or lack of courage. I do perpend that to earn these pieces of which you speak one must perform some worthy business. Tell it to me, and you and Nottingham shall see then what Middle the Tinker thinks on it."
At this a great clacking began, so that Master Middle only came to the gist of it in an hour. He valiantly proclaimed his intention, so soon as he did understand, of taking Robin Hood single-handed. "Why send into Lincoln and the shires when Middle the Tinker will do this business for you, gossips? I will go into your Sherwood this very day. Give me the warrant, and I'll read it to Robin to purpose, I promise you!"
They pushed him, laughing and jesting between themselves, towards Nottingham Castle, and there thrust him into the hall.
"Here is a champion come to take your pieces, Master Monceux," someone called out. "Here is Middle, the pot-valiant," cried another.
Master Middle asked for the warrant, and obtained it. Then he sallied forth, accompanied by the customers from the "Sign of the Sixteen Does" as far as the gates of the city. There he made them a long speech and left them.
They watched him making determinedly along the white road towards Barnesdale; then returned to their tankards and their talk.
Master Middle reached Gamewell without mishap; and the brisk air having revived him much, he gradually came into a placid frame of mind.
In this happy condition he encountered presently a comely youth, with a little beard and a friendly tongue.