iar, pointing at Robin.

And now it was well for that yeoman that a tree stood nigh him beside
the road, else had he had an ill chance of it. Ere one could say "Gaffer
Downthedale" the hounds were upon him, and he had only time to drop his
sword and leap lightly into the tree, around which the hounds gathered,
looking up at him as though he were a cat on the eaves. But the Friar
quickly called off his dogs. "At 'em!" cried he, pointing down the road
to where the yeomen were standing stock still with wonder of what they
saw. As the hawk darts down upon its quarry, so sped the four dogs at
the yeomen; but when the four men saw the hounds so coming, all with one
accord, saving only Will Scarlet, drew each man his goose feather to his
ear and let fly his shaft.

And now the old ballad telleth of a wondrous thing that happened, for
thus it says, that each dog so shot at leaped lightly aside, and as the
arrow passed him whistling, caught it in his mouth and bit it in twain.
Now it would have been an ill day for these four good fellows had not
Will Scarlet stepped before the others and met the hounds as they came
rushing. "Why, how now, Fangs!" cried he sternly. "Down, Beauty! Down,
sirrah! What means this?"

At the sound of his voice each dog shrank back quickly and then
straightway came to him and licked his hands and fawned upon him, as
is the wont of dogs that meet one they know. Then the four yeomen came
forward, the hounds leaping around Will Scarlet joyously. "Why, how
now!" cried the stout Friar, "what means this? Art thou wizard to turn
those wolves into lambs? Ha!" cried he, when they had come still nearer,
"can I trust mine eyes? What means it that I see young Master William
Gamwell in such company?"

"Nay, Tuck," said the young man, as the four came forward to where Robin
was now clambering down from the tree in which he had been roosting, he
having seen that all danger was over for the time; "nay, Tuck, my name
is no longer Will Gamwell, but Will Scarlet; and this is my good uncle,
Robin Hood, with whom I am abiding just now."

"Truly, good master," said the Friar, looking somewhat abashed and
reaching out his great palm to Robin, "I ha' oft heard thy name both
sung and spoken of, but I never thought to meet thee in battle. I crave
thy forgiveness, and do wonder not that I found so stout a man against
me."

"Truly, most holy father," said Little John, "I am more thankful than
e'er I was in all my life befor