and he struck the priest smartly with the
flat of his sword.

The friar put down his staff. "Now," said he, with meaning, "since you
have struck me we will play this game to a fair finish. Wherefore, if
you are a true knight, give me your pledge that you will fight me on
to-morrow morn with quarter-staff until one of us shall cry 'Enough.'"

"With all my soul," cried the knight, readily. "And will give more
knocks than ever you have given your dogs."

"One gives and takes," retorted Tuck, sententiously; "put up your sword
and help me to lay supper, for I am passing hungry."

They spread the supper table between them, and once again the friar sat
down hopefully. He spoke his grace with unction, and was surprised to
hear his guest echo the Latin words after him. The knight unlaced his
helm and took it off. He appeared as a bronzed and bearded man,
stern-looking and handsome.

They then attacked the venison pasty right valiantly, and pledged each
other in a cup of wine. The good food and comfort warmed them both, and
soon they were at a gossip, cheerful and astounding. So they passed the
time until the hour grew late; and both fell asleep together, almost in
their places, by the despoiled supper table.

In the morning they breakfasted on the remains, and then they washed
their faces in the jumping brook. The knight told the priest that he had
left his companions at Locksley on the previous evening. He asked so
many questions as to Robin Hood and his men that the priest had to fence
very skilfully.

If the knight had been in a hurry before he seemed now to have changed
his mind. He said that he would wait for his companions, if the priest
could bear with him, and Friar Tuck, having taken a great liking to this
genial traveller, made no complaint.

"I must presently journey forth to visit a poor man who lieth on a sick
bed," said the friar, thinking of Robin.

"Mayhap we may travel together?" suggested the knight. "I am going, so
soon as friends have found me, into Gamewell."

"I go into Barnesdale," said Tuck, quickly, "which is in quite another
direction."

At last the knight said he must go on, with or without his fellows, and
he took up his sword. The friar then got out two quarter-staves, full
nine feet long. Without a word he handed one to the knight.

He took it, and eyed the friar whimsically; then, seeing no sign of
relenting in him, shrugged his shoulders. He put off his helm again, and
both going ou