ir and fast enow. Let me tell
thee that not one of thy cloth hath so hoodwinked me in all my life
before. I might have known from thy looks that thou wert no such holy
man as thou didst pretend to be."

"Nay," interrupted the Friar, "I bid thee speak not so scurrilously
neither, lest thou mayst perchance feel the prick of an inch or so of
blue steel."

"Tut, tut," said Robin, "speak not so, Friar; the loser hath ever the
right to use his tongue as he doth list. Give me my sword; I do promise
to carry thee back straightway. Nay, I will not lift the weapon against
thee."

"Marry, come up," quoth the Friar, "I fear thee not, fellow. Here is thy
skewer; and get thyself presently ready, for I would hasten back."

So Robin took his sword again and buckled it at his side; then he bent
his stout back and took the Friar upon it.

Now I wot Robin Hood had a heavier load to carry in the Friar than the
Friar had in him. Moreover he did not know the ford, so he went
stumbling among the stones, now stepping into a deep hole, and now
nearly tripping over a boulder, while the sweat ran down his face in
beads from the hardness of his journey and the heaviness of his load.
Meantime, the Friar kept digging his heels into Robin's sides and
bidding him hasten, calling him many ill names the while. To all this
Robin answered never a word, but, having softly felt around till he
found the buckle of the belt that held the Friar's sword, he worked
slyly at the fastenings, seeking to loosen them. Thus it came about
that, by the time he had reached the other bank with his load, the
Friar's sword belt was loose albeit he knew it not; so when Robin stood
on dry land and the Friar leaped from his back, the yeoman gripped hold
of the sword so that blade, sheath, and strap came away from the holy
man, leaving him without a weapon.

"Now then," quoth merry Robin, panting as he spake and wiping the sweat
from his brow, "I have thee, fellow. This time that same saint of whom
thou didst speak but now hath delivered two swords into my hand and hath
stripped thine away from thee. Now if thou dost not carry me back, and
that speedily, I swear I will prick thy skin till it is as full of holes
as a slashed doublet."

The good Friar said not a word for a while, but he looked at Robin with
a grim look. "Now," said he at last, "I did think that thy wits were of
the heavy sort and knew not that thou wert so cunning. Truly, thou hast
me upon the hip. G