He strode off, in heat, followed by Stuteley's scornful gibings.
Robin became aware that the people were eyeing them both with none too friendly glances. He felt that he and Will Stuteley were in a difficult position. Escape seemed to be out of the question.
"Jump over the ledge of my box, Robin," whispered a sudden small voice, "and so make your way through the door at the back of it. Hasten!"
Gratefully Robin did as she bade him; and Stuteley, without waiting for invitation, followed. Mistress Fitzwalter instantly opened the door for them. "Hurry, I pray you," cried she; "I see them coming for you both. The Prince has sent his pikemen——"
Robin pushed Will out before him; and, turning, caught her little hand in his.
"Thanks, thanks," he muttered, hurriedly, and strove to kiss her fingers.
Laughing and blushing, she snatched them away.
"Go," she cried, in agitated voice, "and stay not until you reach Locksley. We may meet again—to talk of thanks," she added, seeing that he still hesitated.
"Give me at least your name," panted poor Robin, at the door; "not that I shall ever forget you."
"I am called Marian," answered she, closing the door ruthlessly upon him—"Marian Fitzwalter.... Go now, I implore you, and may good fortune be with you always."