That was it, no doubt; but a mystery still remained. Robin decided to pierce it ere the night was done. Some of the guests were far gone in their cups, already; and Monceux had given over the b.u.t.tery to the butchers for the night. "I'll stay here then," decided Robin; and, pretending to be suddenly overcome by the strong ale, he tumbled himself down upon the rush-strewn floor.

He set up a great snoring, until Little John, taking him by the heels, dragged him through the kitchen into a little larder, and there shut the door on him. "Lie there, nasty pig," cried Little John from outside with disgusted air, for his fellow-servants to note. "Lie there in a clean sty for once; and if you grunt again I will surely souse you under the pump!" At this threat Robin's snores abated somewhat in their violence.

"_I_ would drop him into the river forthwith," spoke a harsh voice, startling Robin into fierce astonishment. There was no mistaking those tones: so cruel, so false, so malicious. "Roger and Micah--Micah and Roger." One of these two villains it was of a surety! But Robin had seen them both slain on the day of that battle wherein poor Will of Cloudesley had perished?

Trembling with amazement, he cautiously got upon his knees and peeped through the keyhole. In the flagged kitchen, amidst the reek of hot foods and disordered dishes, were two men--one of them Little John. The other was dressed as a cook, and as he turned his face towards the light of the fire Robin knew him for one of the two traitor outlaws. He had changed little.

Little John answered his remark over his shoulder: "You would do many a rash thing, Roger, if you could," was all he said; but he spoke in sneering tone.

"Ay, marry; and one thing I would do, right instantly, dear gossip,"

said Roger, busying himself with the dishes. Robin saw that they shone like gold in the ruddy light of the fire. "I would not have _you_ as helpmate in this kitchen had I the ordering of matters. Big hands and heavy hands and thieving hands. Ah, I need not be wizard to know them when I see them!"

"You shall feel them, little Roger," said Little John, very angry. And he soundly cuffed the cook about the head. Roger snarlingly drew back and s.n.a.t.c.hed up a dish. Full viciously he flung it at Little John, and after it another and another.

[Ill.u.s.tration: LITTLE JOHN FIGHTS WITH THE COOK IN THE SHERIFF'S HOUSE

_At last he made a dart upon Roger and the chase grew furious. Dishes, plates, covers, pots and pans--all that came in the way of them went flying._]

The first struck the giant's shoulder and fell clattering upon the red tiles. The second dish struck Little John as he recoiled and cut his forehead and head. Blood ran down instantly over his cheek. The third smashed itself against the wall harmlessly. Drawing in his breath, Little John commenced a long chase of his foe, who had raced off to the other side of the table.

Neither man spoke, but each eyed the other warily. Anger shone on one face, jealous hate upon the other. They moved round and round the table carefully.

There were knives in plenty upon it; and every now and again Roger would seize one and fling it hurriedly at his enemy. Little John ruthlessly followed him, without flinching or abating his set purpose by one jot.

At last he made a dart upon Roger and the chase grew furious. Dishes, plates, covers, pots and pans--all that came in the way of them went flying. The noise was awful; then suddenly ceased--for Little John had grasped his prey by the short skirt of his tunic. In another second of time Roger was secured, fluttering, cursing, and green with a sick terror.

Little John lifted him up bodily and flung him with all his strength against the wall of the kitchen. He rebounded from the wall to the dresser; and in convulsive agony gripped hold of those utensils near him. All fell, with reverberations of sound, downward with him to the ground. There Roger lay still--save for a slight and hideous twitching of his mouth.

Little John opened the door to Robin. "Hasten--hasten away from here, soon as you can. There is danger and death."

"And you?"

"I shall escape. I have a story for them." Little John suddenly pushed Robin back into the larder. "'Tis too late: be silent on your life."

Some servants, alarmed by the din, entered. They found Little John, the new kitchen-drawer, bending in consternation over the lifeless form of the cook. "Run, run," cried he, scarce glancing at them. "Here is Roger the cook suddenly dying. His brain has given way. See how the foam flecks upon his lips. Get me water for him. Or stay, help me carry him to his bed."

Little John picked him up tenderly and with a face full of seeming concern. The others, aghast at the mere thought of touching a madman, shrank back. The giant carried the unconscious Roger out of the kitchen.

The servants came and busied themselves in restoring the kitchen to order. One of them opened the larder; but Robin had laid himself full length upon the top shelf. So he was not discovered.

The night wore on and most of the servants went yawningly to bed. Little John returned, telling the few who remained that the cook was recovered from his fit; but was still delirious and unsafe. "I will bank the fire and sleep here, so that I may be able to go to him," continued Little John, with a kind air. "By my wits, but he did mightily scare me when first the distemper showed in him. He sliced me with the spit. See how my head is cut, and my cheek shows you how his horrid teeth did meet in my flesh."

"Did he indeed bite you, Master Nailor?"

"By my bones, he bit and tore me like a wild beast. But since I am so big and not fearful of him I will e'en watch him through the night, unless you choose to do service, Mickleham?"

Mickleham swore roundly that he would not.

"Then get you gone, gossip," said the giant, busying himself with the fire. "'Tis late: and my lord of Hereford has business abroad at an early hour."

He bade Robin go back into the b.u.t.tery and stay there until dawn, there being no chance of escape out of the castle at this hour. "Play your part, Locksley, and avoid the Bishop's eyes--even as have I. We may meet on the morrow."

"You have not betrayed us, Little John?"

"Roger the cook was to have sold you. Therefore have I quietened him for the nonce. Here's my hand on it, Locksley: that Little John is loyal.

But I do not love Stuteley yet."

"It will come in time," answered Robin, sleepily. "You are both sound fellows. Give you good night, honest John. I'll sleep none the worse for my pillow." He stretched himself amid the trampled rushes of the b.u.t.tery, and laid his head upon the p.r.o.ne body of one of the sleeping butchers. Full a dozen of them had fallen into slumber to the Sheriffs rush-bottomed b.u.t.tery floor.

Little John went back to the kitchen and there carefully and silently collected Master Monceux's gold plate. He put it all into a stout sack, tied it up, and waited patiently for dawn.

CHAPTER XIX

Robin woke from a heavy slumber at daybreak. A faint noise from without the b.u.t.tery disturbed him. He very quietly rose up, and, picking his way across the room, came to the entrance to the kitchens. He opened one of the doors and found a pa.s.sage, grey-lit by the first gleam of dawn.

At the end of it was the figure of a man. His height revealed him for Little John. Over his shoulders was a short sack.

Seeing Robin, he beckoned to him; then whispered his plans. But Robin did not intend to leave Nottingham so soon.

"Go, Little John, and take that which is in your sack----"

"I shall bring it to you, gossip," spoke Little John, in a m.u.f.fled voice: "to your haunts in Barnesdale. You shall see who is the better servant--Stuteley or myself. Here have I the Sheriff's plate----"

An audacious notion flashed upon Robin.

"Take it to our cave in Barnesdale, honest John," said he, swiftly, indicating the sack, "and, harkee; I will follow later with such a guest as never our greenwood has yet carried. Lay out a royal feast and kill one of the fattest bucks. Take my dagger in token to them that I have sent you."

"Who will you bring with you, gossip? Not my lord of Hereford?"

"I will bring Monceux himself," said Robin, boldly. "Leave the business in my hands. Go now, if you know a safe road from out of this place."

"I have a friend at the gate who will ask me no questions," answered Little John, softly. "But you?"

"My wit shall lead me out from Nottingham," Robin told him.

Little John let himself out by one of the postern doors, and found means to convey the Sheriff's plate through the streets. Afterwards when he reached the gate, he continued to win his pa.s.sage by pure statesmanship, pretending that he had been sent out at that strange hour to snare young rabbits for his lord's breakfast!

Meanwhile, Robin returned to the b.u.t.tery, and waited for events to shape themselves. Ere long the butchers began yawning and quarrelling betwixt themselves; and Robin artfully persuaded them, by setting one against the other, to a free fight.

The servants separated them, and in anger bade them all begone. Robin besought them to let him stay, saying that he wished an audience with my lord the Sheriff.

"Out upon you, pestilent fellow!" cried one of the servants. "You sc.u.m of the earth! This comes of hobn.o.bbing with such rascals. Go hence quickly, with your fellows, or we will break all your bones."

So were they all bustled out into the cold streets, and Robin, in his butcher's smock, went back, as if very crest-fallen, to his empty cart and lean horse.