Robin Hood by J. Walker McSpadden (romance novel chinese novels txt) 📕
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- Author: J. Walker McSpadden
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“Lie there,” quoth Little John, “till ye find strength to go to bed. Meanwhile, I must be about my dinner.” And he kicked open the buttery door without ceremony and brought to light a venison pasty and cold roast pheasant—goodly sights to a hungry man. Placing these down on a convenient shelf he fell to with right good will. So Little John ate and drank as much as he would.
Now the Sheriff had in his kitchen a cook, a stout man and bold, who heard the rumpus and came in to see how the land lay. There sat Little John eating away for dear life, while the fat steward was rolled under the table like a bundle of rags.
“I make my vow!” said the cook, “you are a shrewd hind to dwell thus in a household, and ask thus to dine.” So saying he laid aside his spit and drew a good sword that hung at his side.
“I make my vow!” said Little John, “you are a bold man and hardy to come thus between me and my meat. So defend yourself and see that you prove the better man.” And he drew his own sword and crossed weapons with the cook.
Then back and forth they clashed with sullen sound. The old ballad which tells of their fight says that they thought nothing for to flee, but stiffly for to stand. There they fought sore together, two miles away and more, but neither might the other harm for the space of a full hour.
“I make my vow!” cried Little John, “you are the best swordsman that ever yet I saw. What say you to resting a space and eating and drinking good health with me. Then we may fall to again with the swords.”
“Agreed!” said the cook, who loved good fare as well as a good fight; and they both laid by their swords and fell to the food with hearty will. The venison pasty soon disappeared, and the roast pheasant flew at as lively a rate as ever the bird itself had sped. Then the warriors rested a space and patted their stomachs, and smiled across at each other like bosom friends; for a man when he as dined looks out pleasantly upon the world.
“And now good Reynold Greenleaf,” said the cook, “we may as well settle this brave fight we have in hand.”
“A true saying,” rejoined the other, “but first tell me, friend—for I protest you are my friend henceforth—what is the score we have to settle?”
“Naught save who can handle the sword best,” said the cook. “By my troth I had thought to carve you like a capon ere now.”
“And I had long since thought to shave your ears,” replied Little John. “This bout we can settle in right good time. But just now I and my master have need of you, and you can turn your stout blade to better service than that of the Sheriff.”
“Whose service would that be?” asked the cook.
“Mine,” answered a would-be butcher entering the room, “and I am Robin Hood.”
CHAPTER V HOW THE SHERIFF LOST THREE GOOD SERVANTS AND FOUND THEM AGAIN “Make good cheer,” said Robin Hood. “Sheriff! for charity! And for the love of Little John Thy life is granted thee!”
The cook gasped in amazement. This Robin Hood! and under the Sheriff’s very roof!
“Now by my troth you are a brave fellow,” he said. “I have heard great tales of your prowess, and the half has not been told. But who might this tall slasher be?”
“Men do call me Little John, good fellow.”
“Then Little John, or Reynold Greenleaf, I like you well, on my honor as Much the miller’s son; and you too, bold Robin Hood. An you take me, I will enter your service right gladly.”
“Spoken like a stout man!” said Robin, seizing him by the hand. “But I must back to my own bed, lest some sleepy warden stumble upon me, and I be forced to run him through. Lucky for you twain that wine flowed so freely in the house to-day; else the noise of your combat would have brought other onlookers besides Robin Hood. Now if ye would flee the house to-night, I will join you in the good greenwood to-morrow.”
“But, good master,” said the cook, “you would not stay here over night! Verily, it is running your head into a noose. Come with us. The Sheriff has set strict watch on all the gates, since ‘tis Fair week, but I know the warden at the west gate and could bring us through safely. To-morrow you will be stayed.” “Nay, that will I not,” laughed Robin, “for I shall go through with no less escort than the Sheriff himself. Now do you, Little John, and do you, Much the miller’s son, go right speedily. In the borders of the wood you will find my merry men. Tell them to kill two fine harts against to-morrow eve, for we shall have great company and lordly sport.”
And Robin left them as suddenly as he had come.
“Comrade,” then said Little John, “we may as well bid the Sheriff’s roof farewell. But ere we go, it would seem a true pity to fail to take such of the Sheriff’s silver plate as will cause us to remember him, and also grace our special feasts.”
“‘Tis well said indeed,” quoth the cook.
Thereupon they got a great sack and filled it with silver plate from the shelves where it would not at once be missed, and they swung the sack between them, and away they went, out of the house, out of the town, and into the friendly shelter of Sherwood Forest.
The next morning the servants were late astir in the Sheriff’s house. The steward awoke from a heavy sleep, but his cracked head was still in such a whirl that he could not have sworn whether the Sheriff had ever owned so much as one silver dish. So the theft went undiscovered for the nonce.
Robin Hood met the Sheriff at breakfast, when his host soon spoke of what was uppermost in his heart—the purchase of the fine herd of cattle near Gamewell. ‘Twas clear that a vision of them, purchased for twenty paltry gold pieces, had been with him all through the night, in his dreams. And Robin again appeared such a silly fellow that the Sheriff saw no need of dissembling, but said that he was ready to start at once to look at the herd.
Accordingly they set forth, Robin in his little butcher’s cart, behind the lean mare, and the Sheriff mounted on a horse. Out of Nottingham town, through gates open wide, they proceeded, and took the hill road leading through Sherwood Forest. And as they went on and plunged deeper among the trees, Robin whistled blithely and sang snatches of tunes.
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