with me, young master?" asked the little stroller,
overhearing these words, "If you can stand twice to me, I'll teach you
the trick and more besides."

"Nay, nay," said the Squire, hastily. "We have no leisure for such
play, Robin. Your mother is waiting for us at yonder booth. Let us go to
her."

Robin turned away reluctantly. "I do think I could stand twice to him.
The grass is dry within the ring, sir--do you think I should hurt my
clothes?"

Such pleading as this moved the capricious old Master of Gamewell.
Although it was scarce a proper thing for one of gentle blood to mix
with these commoners, yet the Squire could not forego his own appetite
for sport. He turned about to the strollers: "I will give a purse of
silver pennies to the one who wins the next bout," said he. "Let any and
all be welcome to the ring, and the bout shall be one of three falls.
Challenge anyone in Nottingham; I dare swear some lad will be found who
shall show you how to grip and throw."

The father of the players struck a most pompous attitude and blew three
piercing blasts. "Come one, come all!" cried he. "Here be the three
great wrestlers from Cumberland, where wrestling is practised by every
lad and man! Here are the wrestlers who have beaten all in their own
county, and who now seek to overcome other champions! Oyez, oyez! There
is a prize of twenty silver pennies to be handed to the winner of the
next bout (did you say twenty or thirty pennies, lording?). Come one,
come all--the lads from Cumberland challenge you!"

"Now let me wrestle for the pence, sir," pleaded Robin, catching hold of
the Squire's sleeve. "Why should not I try to win them? They might
become the foundation of that fortune which I would have for my father's
sake."

"Twenty pennies would buy him little of Broadweald, boy," laughed the
Squire. "Nor should a Montfichet struggle in the mob for vulgar gain.
You are a Montfichet--remember it--on your mother's side. We will see
how they fare, these men of Cumberland, against the lads of Nottingham
and Sherwood. Here comes one in answer to the challenge."

A thin, pale-faced fellow had claimed the purse whilst the Squire had
been speaking. "'Tis yours if you can take it," answered the old
stroller, as he and his lads cleared the ring. A great crowd of folk
gathered about, and Montfichet and Robin were in danger of being jostled
into the background.

"Stand here beside me, lording," commanded the stroller. "Do you kee