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 God
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