Robin lost no time in doffing his green jerkin and hose, and then he washed himself and eagerly essayed his new habiliments. When the sword had been buckled on, our young hero of Locksley felt himself equal to Will o' th' Green or any other gallant in Christendom.

He strode along the corridors and found his way back to the great hall.

There the Master of Gamewell and his mother awaited him. Mistress Fitzooth's eyes shone approvingly, and Robin slipped his fingers into hers.

"I'll build a castle as fine as this, mother mine, one of these days,"

Robin told her: and he began to ask Master Montfichet questions as to the number of claims-at-law that he must have won in order to hold so splendid a domain. The Squire smilingly told him that the King had given Gamewell to him as a reward for valor in battle many years agone.

"Then will I fight for the King," cried Robin, with flashing eyes, "so that I may win my father Broadweald and all the lands of it."

"And I will teach you, Robin: be sure of that," said old George Montfichet. "But your sword must be swung for the right King, harkee.

Not for rebellious princes will we cry to arms; but for him whom G.o.d hath placed over us--Henry the Angevin."

"Amen," murmured the clerk, fervently. "Let law and order be respected always."

"It may mean much to you, friar," said Montfichet. "Young John has the Priory of York under his hands."

"He has not fingers upon Sherwood, and we are free of it!" cried the clerk. Then he hastily corrected himself. "We hermits can have no fear, since we have no wealth. Happy then the man with naught to lose, and who has a contented mind."

"I will be free of Sherwood Forest, father, if that boon shall wait upon my archery. Master Will, the robber, swore that if I beat him, sir"--he had turned his bright face to old Gamewell's--"I should go free of the greenwood. And I will win the right."

"'Tis scarcely Will's to grant," frowned the Squire; "yet, in a way, he has control of the forest. It is a matter which I will look to, since the Sheriff seems so fearful of him," he added, significantly.

CHAPTER III

The next day they journeyed quietly into Nottingham, taking only a few retainers with them. The clerk chose to stay at the hall, fearing, as he said, that his eyes would be offended with the vanity of the town.

When they had come to the meadows wherein the Fair was held, Robin was overcome with joy at the sight of the wonderments before him.

That which most pleased him was the tumbling and wrestling of a company of itinerant players, merry fellows, all in a great flutter of tinsel and noise. They were father and three sons, and while the old man blew vigorously upon some instrument, the three sons amused themselves and the crowd by cutting capers.

Again and again did Robin entice Master Montfichet to return to these strollers. It was the wrestling that most moved him, for they put such heart into it as to make the thing seem real. "Give them another penny, sir," requested Robin, with heightened color. "Nay, give them a silver one. Did you ever see the like? The little one has the trick of it, for sure ... I do believe that he will throw the elder in the next bout."

"Will you try a turn with me, young master?" asked the little stroller, overhearing these words, "If you can stand twice to me, I'll teach you the trick and more besides."

"Nay, nay," said the Squire, hastily. "We have no leisure for such play, Robin. Your mother is waiting for us at yonder booth. Let us go to her."

Robin turned away reluctantly. "I do think I could stand twice to him.

The gra.s.s is dry within the ring, sir--do you think I should hurt my clothes?"

Such pleading as this moved the capricious old Master of Gamewell.

Although it was scarce a proper thing for one of gentle blood to mix with these commoners, yet the Squire could not forego his own appet.i.te for sport. He turned about to the strollers: "I will give a purse of silver pennies to the one who wins the next bout," said he. "Let any and all be welcome to the ring, and the bout shall be one of three falls.

Challenge anyone in Nottingham; I dare swear some lad will be found who shall show you how to grip and throw."

The father of the players struck a most pompous att.i.tude and blew three piercing blasts. "Come one, come all!" cried he. "Here be the three great wrestlers from c.u.mberland, where wrestling is practised by every lad and man! Here are the wrestlers who have beaten all in their own county, and who now seek to overcome other champions! Oyez, oyez! There is a prize of twenty silver pennies to be handed to the winner of the next bout (did you say twenty or thirty pennies, lording?). Come one, come all--the lads from c.u.mberland challenge you!"

"Now let me wrestle for the pence, sir," pleaded Robin, catching hold of the Squire's sleeve. "Why should not I try to win them? They might become the foundation of that fortune which I would have for my father's sake."

"Twenty pennies would buy him little of Broadweald, boy," laughed the Squire. "Nor should a Montfichet struggle in the mob for vulgar gain.

You are a Montfichet--remember it--on your mother's side. We will see how they fare, these men of c.u.mberland, against the lads of Nottingham and Sherwood. Here comes one in answer to the challenge."

A thin, pale-faced fellow had claimed the purse whilst the Squire had been speaking. "'Tis yours if you can take it," answered the old stroller, as he and his lads cleared the ring. A great crowd of folk gathered about, and Montfichet and Robin were in danger of being jostled into the background.

"Stand here beside me, lording," commanded the stroller. "Do you keep back there, impudent dogs! This is the n.o.ble who gives the purse. There shall be no purse at all, an you harry us so sorely. Stand back, you and you!" He pushed back the mob with vigorous thrusts. "Now let the best man win."

The two lads had stripped to their waists, and were eyeing each other warily. The Nottingham youth, despite his slimness, showed clean and muscular against the swarthy thick-set boy from c.u.mberland. They suddenly closed in and clutched each other, then swayed uncertainly from side to side. The crowd cheered madly.

The compet.i.tors for Montfichet's purse were evenly matched in strength: it remained for one of them to throw the other by means of some trick or feint. The stroller tried a simple ruse, and nigh lost his feet in doing it.

"You must show us a better attempt than that, c.u.mberland!" called out someone. Robin, quick-eared to recognize a voice, turned his head instantly, and in time to catch a glimpse of Will o' th' Green, the robber of Sherwood!

Seeing Robin's gaze fixed upon him, Master Will deemed it prudent to discreetly withdraw. He nodded boldly to the lad first, however; then moved slowly away. "Hold fast to him, Nottingham, for your credit's sake," he cried, ere disappearing.

Meanwhile the wrestlers tugged and strained every nerve. Great beads of perspiration stood out upon their brows. Neither made any use of the many common tricks of wrestling: each perceived in the other no usual foe.

Suddenly the Nottingham lad slipped, or seemed to slip, and instantly the other gripped him for a throw. Fatal mistake--'twas but a ruse--and so clear a one as to end the first round. The Nottingham lad recovered adroitly, and now that the other had his arm low about the enemy's body, his equipoise was readily disturbed. The stroller felt himself swiftly thrust downward, and as they both fell together it was he who went undermost.

"A Nottingham! A Nottingham!" clamored the crowd, approvingly. Then all prepared themselves for the second round.

This, to Robin's surprise, was ended as soon as begun. The c.u.mberland lad knew of a clever grip, and practised it upon the other immediately, and the Nottingham hero went down heavily.

The third bout was a stubborn match, but fortune decided it at length in favor of the stroller. Montfichet handed the purse to the winner without regret. "Spend the money worthily as you have won it, c.u.mberland,"

spoke the Squire. "Now, Robin, let us join your mother. She will be weary waiting for us."

"And if your stomach sickens for a fight with me, master, here may I be found until Sat.u.r.day at noon." So said the little tumbler, roguishly.

"'Tis a pity that we could not tussle for the purse, eh? but I would have given your ribs a basting."

"Now shall I twist his ears for him, Squire?" said Robin.

"Nay, boy, let his ears grow longer, as befitteth; then you will have freer play with them. Come with me to see the miracle-play, and be not so ready to answer these rascallions. I begin to think that we should not have gone the round of the shows by ourselves, Master Spitfire.

Travelling unattended with you is too dangerous a business."

Montfichet smiled despite his chidings. He had already taken a fancy to this high-spirited youth. He walked affectionately, with his hand upon Robin's shoulder, towards the booth where, with her maids, Mistress Fitzooth was waiting for them. "Are you sorry for Nottingham, Robin?" he asked, as they pa.s.sed by the pale-faced, rueful wrestler. "Then take him this little purse quietly. Tell him it is for consolation, from a friend."

Robin gladly performed the task; then, as he returned to the Squire's side, thought to ask instruction on a point which had perplexed him not a little. "Yesterday, sir," he began, "when we were in the greenwood, all men seemed eager to catch the robber chief."

"Well, Robin?"

"To-day he walks about Nottingham Fair, and no one attempts to tarry him. Why is this, sir? Is the ground sanctuary?"

"Have you spied out Will o' th 'Green indeed?" began Montfichet, eagerly. "That were hard to believe, for all he is so audacious."

"Truly, sir, I saw him when we were at the wrestling. He peered at me above the caps of the people."

"Point him out now to me, Robin, if you can." The Squire became humorously doubtful, and his amus.e.m.e.nt grew upon him as Robin vainly searched with his bright eyes about the throng. "No Will o' th' Green is here, child; he would be a fish out of water, indeed, in Nottingham town. Dearly would I love to catch him, though."