s of his repose by lying abed the better part of the
next day. Stirring things were going forward in the old city of
Nottingham, as we know; but only at dusk, when all was over and Robin
and them all were safely lodged in Sir Richard's stronghold, did the
worthy friar open his little wicket gate and remember him of his fasting
dogs.

He fed them and passed the remaining hours of day in putting them
through their tricks; then, feeling that he had well earned a good meal,
the friar took out some sumptuous fare from his larder and arranged it
conveniently upon the small wooden bench in his cell. He then lit a
taper, as the night was at hand, bolted and barred his door, and drew
his seat close to the promising board.

He uprolled his eyes, and had commenced a Latin grace, when suddenly
came interruption unpleasant and alarming. One of his dogs began to
bark, deeply and resentfully. The others followed him in the same note,
changing the calm stillness of the night into discordant, frenzied
clamor. "Now, who, in the name of all the saints, cometh here?"
exclaimed Tuck, wrathfully, proceeding to bundle his supper back into
the small larder. "May perdition and all the furies grant that he may
evermore know the pangs of an empty stomach!"

His pious wishes were rudely interrupted by a loud knocking upon the
door of his hermitage. "Open, open!" cried a strident voice.

"I have no means of helping you, poor traveller," roared the friar. "Go
your way into Gamewell, 'tis but a few miles hence upon a straight
road."

"I will not stir another yard," said the voice, determinedly; "open your
door, or I will batter it down with the hilt of my sword."

The priest then, with anger glowing in his eyes, unbarred the door, and
flung it open. Before him stood the figure of a knight, clad in black
armor and with vizor down.

The Black Knight strode into the friar's cell without waiting for
invitation.

"Have you no supper, brother?" asked the knight, curtly. "I must beg a
bed of you this night, and fain would refresh my body ere I sleep."

"I have naught but half of mine own supper to offer you," replied Tuck;
"a little dry bread and a pitcher of water."

"Methinks I can smell better fare than that, brother;" and the Black
Knight offered to look into the larder.

This was more than Tuck could bear, so he caught up his staff and flung
himself before his guest in a threatening attitude. "Why, then, if you
_will_," cried the knight,