a burying."

"I am the man to fix your new name upon you right bravely," cried Tuck,
whistling to his dogs. "Come, we will have such a christening as these
woods have ne'er dreamed of. Get me a basin of water and a book."

"Nay," said Robin, laughing, "I think that you baptized me heartily
enough in the river by Fountain's Dale! 'Twill be fitting, to my mind,
if now we have the feast which follows upon all christenings. Bring out
of our best, comrades, and let good cheer and the right wine fill our
bodies. Afterward we can hold carnival, and the friar shall show how he
can use the bow."

"Ay, marry, friend," laughed the fat clerk, "and I have learned other
things in this year beside that. You are wondering to see me so changed,
doubtless, but I must tell you that the life at Fountain's Dale has not
been an easy one. I have had to hold mine own against the earls and
squires of the borders, who have sought to rob me often enough,
thinking that every son of Mother Church must needs be wealthy. So I
have learned to use the broadsword and quarter-staff as well as the
bow."

"Father," exclaimed Hal, "you knew how to play all these very prettily
when you were Clerk of Copmanhurst, though then you chose to have folks
believe that naught but holiness was in you."

"A man should not boast of all there is in him," answered the friar.
"But now, since I am found out, you know me for what I am."

"I am well content with you, anyway," Robin told him.

The worthy friar would not stay altogether with them in Barnesdale. He
left his dogs there--save three--and returned to Copmanhurst, when the
little hermitage knew him again as master. Each day he would come into
Barnesdale, howbeit, to give news to Robin and hear the items that the
greenwood men had for him. 'Twas from Friar Tuck that the outlaws
learned much as to travellers through Sherwood ere inquiring of them
whether they were rich, whether worthy, or whether they were poor and
deserving of help rather than taxing.

CHAPTER XXIII

Master Carfax had by this time arrived in Nottingham, all eager to marry
his cold bride. He found, however, that this was a happiness not yet to
be, for matters were in a grievous state in the Sheriff's household.

My lord of Hereford was very wrath with them all, and had sent Monceux
back to his native city with much to think upon. The Bishop had taken
the opportunity of laying formal complaint at Court before the King; and
his Majest