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 buttery 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
buttery, and laid his head upon the prone body of one of the sleeping
butchers. Full a dozen of them had fallen into slumber to the Sheriffs
rush-bottomed buttery 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