ners; and the Bishop caught himself smiling
at more than one jest. Stuteley filled his beaker with good wine each
time the Bishop emptied it; and it was not until near midnight that
their guest began to show signs that he wished to leave them.

"I wish, mine host," said he, gravely, to Robin, who had soberly drunk
but one cup of ale, "that you would now call a reckoning. 'Tis late, and
I fear the cost of this entertainment may be more than my poor purse
will permit to me."

"Why, there," answered Robin, as if perplexed, "this is a matter in
which I am in your lordship's hands, for never have I played
tavern-keeper till now."

"I will take the reckoning, friends," said Little John, interposing. He
went into the shade and brought out the bishop's steed, then unfastened
from the saddle a small bag. Someone gave him a cloak; and, spreading it
upon the ground, Little John began to shake the contents of the Bishop's
money-bag upon it.

Bright golden pieces tumbled out and glittered in the pale moonlight;
while my lord of Hereford watched with wry face. Stuteley and Warrenton
counted the gold aloud.

"Three hundred and two pennies are there, master," cried Stuteley.
"Surely a good sum!"

"'Tis strange," said Robin, musingly, "but this is the very sum that I
was fain to ask of our guest."

"Nay, nay," began the Bishop, hastily, "this is requiting me ill indeed.
Did I not deal gently with your venison, which after all is much more
the King's venison than yours? Further, I am a poor man."

"You are the Bishop of Hereford," said Robin, "and so can well afford to
give in charity this very sum. Who does not know of your hard dealings
with the poor and ignorant? Have you not amassed your wealth by less
open but more cruel robbery than this? Who speaks a good word for you or
loves you, for all you are a Bishop? You have put your heels on men's
necks; and have been always an oppressor, greedy and without mercy. For
all these things we take your money now, to hold it in trust and will
administer it properly and in God's name. There is an end of the matter,
then, unless you will lead us in a song to show that a better spirit is
come unto your body. Or mayhap you would sooner trip a measure?"

"Neither the one nor the other will I do," snarled the Bishop.

Robin made Stuteley a sign and Will brought his master a harp: whereupon
Robin sat himself cross-legged beside the fire and twanged forth a
lively tune.

Warrenton and mos