"One was to deal with Robin of Locksley," said Carfax, snarlingly, and without yielding his point.
"To take him to Nottingham, master, I say," put in Much. "I do not think that the Prince meant you to harm him."
"Be silent, knave!" snapped the lean-faced man, sharply. "Who gave you the right to question me? Shut your mouth, or I will have you accounted as accomplice with these fellows, and put a noose about your bull-neck also!"
"Why, harkee, master," said Much, very wrathful. "This is a game where two can play or more. I do forthwith range myself with the gipsy; and you, Midge," he added, turning to one of his company, "surely you will follow?"
"Right instantly," answered the one called Midge, a little ferret of a man.
"And I also." "And I, Master Much"—so spoke the remaining Lincoln men.
"So are we six, then," said Much. He tumbled off his horse, and the other three of them did the like; and then strode over to where Robin stood. "Release him," said the miller, determinedly; and he promptly knocked two of the foresters sprawling.
This was the signal for a general encounter, and all threw themselves very heartily into the mêlée.
The miller and his men struggled to release Robin and Stuteley so that these might help in the fray; but the foresters were too many for them. Twice did Much get his hands upon Robin's bonds, only to be plucked violently backward. The men tumbled one upon the other in the fight, pummelling, clutching, and tearing at each other in a wild confusion. They made little noise, all being too desperately in earnest. Ford encouraged his foresters by word and gesture; and Carfax kept himself as far out of it as possible. Presently three of the foresters overpowered the good-natured, still half-tipsy miller, and held him down.
Then Master Carfax sprang from his horse and rushed in upon the prostrate miller. Seizing one of the foresters' pikes the lean-faced man foully swung it down upon Much's pate with a sounding thwack. The miller gave a groan and became limp in the hands of his assailants.