t to the little glade by the ruined shrine of St. Dunstan,
they prepared for a bout with the staves.

For all his plumpness Tuck was no mean opponent at the game. He skipped
and flourished about and around the knight in a surprising way; and gave
him at last such a crack upon his crown as made the tears start.

Then the Black Knight struck in mighty wrath, and soon the blows of
their staves were making the welkin ring. So busy they were as to give
no heed of the approach of a goodly company of men.

It was Sir Richard of the Lee, with his son and retinue, journeying in a
roundabout way in order to throw Monceux off the scent, and so give
Robin a chance to reach his stronghold in Barnesdale. Both knights
paused in amazement to see this furious combat.

At last the Black Knight brought down his staff with a noise like
felling timber upon the shoulder of the priest. Tuck staggered, and
dropped his staff. "Enough, enough," he cried; then fell in a heap upon
the wet grass.

The knight flung away his staff and ran to help him. He lifted up the
priest's head and put it on his knee. Glancing up, he espied them all
staring at him. "Run, one of you, and bring me some water."

Sir Richard of the Lee started when he heard that voice. He turned to
his son, but already the young man had doffed his helm and was filling
it with water from the brook. He brought it quickly to the Black Knight,
and, offering it, kneeled before him in deepest respect and affection.

"I thank you, child," spoke the Black Knight, graciously. "See, this
good fellow hath but swooned and already doth revive. Are these your
men, and this the father who gave his all for you?"

Sir Richard drew nearer and kneeled as his son had done, whilst the
servitors looked on in strange fear. "Arise, honest man," said the Black
Knight, with feeling, "I know your story, and have pardoned your son.
What can I give to you to show you how we esteem a man just and
faithful, even in adversity?"

"Sire," faltered Sir Richard, rising and standing with bared head before
him. "If I might ask aught of you I would crave amnesty for myself and
for my men. You will hear ere long how we have befriended one Robin
Hood, an outlaw of these woods. Through his generous help I was able to
disencumber my estates, and yesterday, seeing him hard pressed, I opened
my hall to him."

"I will hear the story," the Black Knight said, briefly, "and then I
will judge." He turned to Tuck, who now