green cloak and blew
three winding notes that made the church--rafters ring again.

"Seize him!" yelled the Bishop; "there's mischief afoot! These are the
tricks of Robin Hood!"

The ten liveried archers rushed forward from the rear of the church,
where they had been stationed. But their rush was blocked by the
onlookers who now rose from their pews in alarm and crowded the aisles.
Meanwhile Robin had leaped lightly over the chancel rail and stationed
himself in a nook by the altar.

"Stand where you are!" he shouted, drawing his bow, "the first man to
pass the rail dies the death. And all ye who have come to witness a
wedding stay in your seats. We shall e'en have one, since we are come
into the church. But the bride shall choose her own swain!"

Then up rose another great commotion at the door, and four-and-twenty
good bowmen came marching in with Will Stutely at their head. And they
seized the ten liveried archers and the bride's scowling brother and the
other men on guard and bound them prisoners.

Then in came Allan-a-Dale, decked out gaily, with Will Scarlet for best
man. And they walked gravely down the aisle and stood over against the
chancel.

"Before a maiden weds she chooses--an the laws of good King Harry be
just ones," said Robin. "Now, maiden, before this wedding continues,
whom will you have to husband?"

The maiden answered not in words, but smiled with a glad light in her
eyes, and walked over to Allan and clasped her arms about his neck.

"That is her true love," said Robin. "Young Allan instead of the gouty
knight. And the true lovers shall be married at this time before we
depart away. Now my lord Bishop, proceed with the ceremony!"

"Nay, that shall not be," protested the Bishop; "the banns must be cried
three times in the church. Such is the law of our land."

"Come here, Little John," called Robin impatiently; and plucked off the
Bishop's frock from his back and put it on the yeoman.

Now the Bishop was short and fat, and Little John was long and lean.
The gown hung loosely over Little John's shoulders and came only to
his waist. He was a fine comical sight, and the people began to laugh
consumedly at him.

"By the faith o' my body," said Robin, "this cloth makes you a man.
You're the finest Bishop that ever I saw in my life. Now cry the banns."

So Little John clambered awkwardly into the quire, his short gown
fluttering gaily; and he called the banns for the marriage of the maid