r, if she be cross with you. We
will do all other duties."

They travelled through one of their many secret ways towards Plympton.
The sun shone high in the heavens ere they had come within sight of the
small square church.

Without the building they espied a guard of ten archers liveried in
scarlet and gold. Robin bade the rest to approach under cover of the
hedgerows. He then borrowed Allan's cloak and harp, and stepped out
boldly towards the church.

A few villagers were gathered about the archers; and Robin mingled with
these, asking many quaint questions, and giving odd answers to any who
asked in turn of him. Hearing the laughter and chattering, the Bishop
who was to perform the marriage came to the church door all in his fine
robes and looked severely forth.

"What is the meaning of this unseemliness?" asked he, in well-known
tones.

Robin saw that here was my lord of Hereford again! He answered,
modestly: "I am a harper, good my lord. Shall I not make a song to fit
this happy day?"

"Welcome, minstrel, if such you are," said the Bishop. "Music pleases me
right well, and you shall sing to us."

"I must not tune my harp nor pluck the strings in melody until the bride
and bridegroom have come," Robin answered, wisely; "such a thing would
bring ill-fortune on us, and on them."

"You will not have long to wait," cried the Bishop, "for here they come.
Stand on one side, worthy people."

He busied himself in welcome of the bridegroom--a grave old man, dressed
up very fine. The bride was clothed in white samite, and her hair shone
like the sun. Her pretty eyes were dark with weeping; but she walked
with a proud air, as women will who feel that they are martyring
themselves for their love's sake. She had but two maids with her,
roguish girls both. One held up her mistress's gown from the ground; the
other carried flowers in plenty.

"Now by all the songs I have ever sung, surely never have marriage bells
rung for so strange a pair!" cried Robin, boldly. He had stopped them as
they were passing into the church. "Lady," he asked, "do you love this
man? For if you do not then you are on your way to commit sacrilege."

"Stand aside, fool," cried the bridegroom, wrathfully.

"Do you love this man?" persisted Robin. "Speak now or never. I am a
minstrel, and I know maids' hearts. Many songs have I made in their
honor, and never have I found worse things in them than pride or
vanity."

"I give my hand to him, m