they found many things that other folk had strangely
lost," said the Princess, with a little grimace. "In the other there was
the dead, dishonored body of a good citizen foully done to death."

Her listeners stared in their amazement. "It is a Master Fitzwalter who
hath been so cruelly murdered," continued the Princess, her color coming
and going. "This Little John swears that the cook did kill his master;
and whilst he, Little John, was resting in Fitzwalter's house this
rascal fellow must have changed the sacks."

"Fitzwalter, the warden of the gates? I knew him well. Why, he left us
but three weeks since to travel to Nottingham. It seems that he had sent
a messenger to his girl there that she was to follow him, but either his
letter miscarried or the maid would not. So poor Fitzwalter, busy as he
was, must needs return to meet his death."

"Who is this cook?" asked Scarlett.

"An evil character, he hath altogether. Once he was of an outlaw robber
band, headed here in these very woods under one Will of Cloudesley."

"Tell me, is he called Roger de Burgh?" asked Will.

"That is his name," answered the Princess, surprised; "do you know aught
of him?"

"I know much evil of him," replied her lover; and then he told them how
this very Roger had planned to take his (Will's) life, and how Robin had
saved him.

The Squire nodded. "I remember," said he, slowly.

"Ay, Robin was always a good lad. This news of yours will stagger him,
for he is betrothed to Mistress Fitzwalter, daughter of him who hath so
dreadfully met his end."

"The two of them were arraigned, I must tell you," went on the Princess,
"and both were to be racked. But they did not put it too hardly upon
Master Roger, as I have reason to know, wherefore he was able to
maintain his innocence; whilst the other, in his bitter anguish, made
confession of a crime which he did never commit."

"And they are hanging him whilst I stand idly here," cried Scarlett,
turning to horse. "I must leave you, sweet; forgive me. Here is a man's
life in the balance."

"What would you, Will?" she asked, fearfully. "The hanging is fixed for
the Thursday in next week."

"Before then he shall be free," said Will Scarlett, firmly. "Farewell,
dear heart. Wait for me here at Gamewell; my father will be good host to
you, I know."

"The maid Fitzwalter was lodging with us when I was called to London,"
the Squire began.

"She is now in Nottingham, sir. It is a story which I