as ever such a fool?
"I'll buy your beasts of you, butcher," said Monceux, "and will give you
twice the money you ask."

At this Robin was quite overcome, and fell to praising him to the skies.
For the moment the missing plate was forgotten.

"Drive in your beasts, butcher," said Monceux.

"They are but at Gamewell, excellence," said Robin; "not more than a
mile beyond it at most. Will you not come and choose your own beasts?
The day is fine."

The Sheriff dismissed all but Robin, in order that they might settle it
quietly. If he did not close upon this bargain straightway it would be
lost to him.

After some hesitation, "I will go with you, butcher," spoke Master
Monceux. After all, what had he to fear? Surely no man, be he ever so
wicked and desperate an outlaw, would _dare_ to lay hands upon the
Sheriff of Nottingham!

Monceux had all along suspected the Bishop of Hereford's story. There
were no robbers in Sherwood now--the Bishop had invented the tale in
order to cover up some disgraceful carousal, and had bribed his men. It
had been a plot by which my lord of Hereford had been able to foist
himself and his company upon the Sheriff, and so gain both free lodging
in Nottingham and save giving in charity to the poor folk of the town.

Thus Master Monceux argued swiftly within himself.

"Get ready, butcher, for," he said, briskly, "I will join you in a few
minutes."

He laid a solemn and dreadful charge upon the captain of his men-at-arms
and upon those of his household to find him his plate ere he returned.
He swore that their own goods should be seized and sold if they failed
him in this matter!

Then he affected to be going in secret search himself.

So the two of them, without guard, went off together, Robin driving his
shambling horse and rickety cart beside the Sheriff's little fat brown
pony.

They passed through the gate, and Monceux left word there that his
archers were to follow him to Gamewell so soon as they had returned from
their searching for his plate.

Robin was very gay, and kept the Sheriff amused with his foolish
chattering. Monceux congratulated himself more and more.

They had drawn nigh to Gamewell, and to that little gravel-pit wherein
was one of the hidden passages to the Barnesdale caves. Peering
irresolute through the tree-trunks far off to their right, Robin spied a
herd of deer.

They stood and trembled at sight of Robin and the Sheriff, preparing to
stampede.

Robin