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The Adventures of
Robin Hood
THE STORY THUS FAR : King Richard, leaving for the Crusades in 1191, put England under a Regency, mistrusting his Saxon-hating brother, Prince John. At a jousting
match before the latter, Sir Robin
of Locksley, a swashbuckling young
Saxon, worsts the Norman, Sir Guy
of Gisbourne, thereby winning the
dislike of Lady Marian Fitzwalter,
Sir Guy's sweetheart. King Richard
is captured abroad and held for
Ransom and Prince John plots to
seize the Crown. He overtaxes and
otherwise torments the Saxons.
Robin does many valorous deeds
to protect them and finally de-
nounces Prince John as a traitor.
Prince John puts a price on Robin's
head as an outlaw. Robin bands
together the victims of John's
cruelty swears them to work for the
restoration of Richard and goes
with them to dwell in Sherwood
Forest. When Sir Guy and his
Retinue go by with vast treasure,
Robin takes it and further humi-
liates them. To bait Robin, Prince
John, with the High Sheriff of
Nottingham and Sir Guy plan an
archery contest. Robin wins the
prize but is at once put in a dun-
geon to be hanged the next day.
Lady Marian works with his Merry
Men to free him. While on the
scaffold he escapes. The knights
and their men pursue him but fail
to get him. While they wrangle in
the Castle he comes in disguise to
meet Lady Marian. As they tell
their love for each other he again
eludes his pursuers and rides back
to Sherwood Forest and the Merry
Men.
CHIAPTER XI.
THE SCENE changes to a barren
and poverty-stricken inn on the
Kent Road. The only cheer in the
room is the big fire that roars in
the fireplace casting dancing
shadows across the candle-light.
The place is deserted but for the
frail old proprietor, who has just
finished serving meagre food and
drink to the five men who sit at a
corner table in long and enveloping
travelling cloaks.
"You gentlemen have travelled
far?" asked the old man humbly.
One of the five nodded. "I'm sorry,"
the proprietor went on, "I can't
give you better food. There is
little left to us these days ..."
"This will be enough," said the
tallest of the company and the old
landlord remarked the kindliness of
his deep voice.
"The Inn at Luton was well
supplied" . . . said one of the younger
of the party brusquely, "How's
that?"
"Ah,-" said the landlord with a
faint sad smile, "but that is a Norman
inn. They are all prosperous. If
it weren't for our blessed Robin I
would have had to close these doors
long ago."
"Robin . . .?" asked the tall
one quickly.
"Robin Hood, the outlaw, sir."
"Oh, yes—yes! I've heard of him
I understand he's quite a champion
of the Saxons."
"He helps all people in distress.
Sir ... Norman or Saxon."
"Queer sort of fellow, this Robin
. . . How does one find him?"
"I've no idea, sir. . ." said the
old man, suddenly becoming sus-
picious. "Would you gentlemen
"Would you gentlemen
like some more of our good brown
ale?"
At this moment the door was
thrust open and the Bishop of the
Black Canons burst in in a towering
rage, a half dozen friars at his
skirts. "I'll complain to Prince
"I'll complain to Prince
John!" he shouted, "I'll have this
rascal's ears, no matter how! He
dares to rob me! Strips my person
of jewels! What's this country
coming to when even a High Church-
man can't travel through the forests
in safety!"
"Do you wish to go on after
dinner, Your Grace?" asked one of
the monks.
"No! We can't reach the Abbey
to-night! I'll stay here! Tend
to the horses! Landlord, get us
food!" Here the Bishop, wanting
an audience, turned to the five at
the side table. "It's no longer safe
to journey anywhere! Robbers all
over!"
"What happened, Your Grace?"
inquired the tall one courteously.
"I just told you!" snorted His
Grace indignantly, "We were robbed;
Not a chance to defend ourselves!
He burst in on us from ambush . ."
"Who did?"
"Why, Robin Hood, of course!
There's no other rascal with enough
"Robin Hood," said one of the
five guests to the tall one. "The
same as we were speaking of, Sire!"
The Bishop hearing the word "Sire"
started guiltily. "And what," he
asked unctously, "might your names
be gentlemen?"
"They're hardly important enough
to deserve the interest of Your
Grace," said the tall one, evasively,
"Landlord . . Where's our ale?''
The Bishop, as soon as he could
do it gracefully, excused himself
pleading a forgotten engagement at
the Abbey, and left. The five at
the side table knew that his sus-
picions had been aroused.
"His Grace, so-called, is a Nor-
man, Sire. Didn't you see the dread
in the landlord's face when he and
his friars entered?"
"The same look, Essex, that I've
seen on the faces of thousands since
we've returned. I never should have
left England. But this mysterious
outlaw . . "He's given me an idea
. . ! The Bishop had no trouble in
meeting him . . he added with a
grim smile, "So let's be on our
way!"
The Bishop of the Black Canons
lost no time in getting back to
Nottingham Castle, where Prince
John, Sir Guy and the High Sheriff
heard his story with dismay. "Are
you sure it was Richard?" asked
John in a hoarse whisper, his face
ashen.
"No doubt of it, Your Highness
. . . and one of those with him was
Essex . . . and another, I think,
was Pombroke!"
The Lady Marian appeared for a
moment on the stairs and then
shrank back in the shadows, listen-
ing eagerly.
"How like my dear brother this
is . . .!" muttered Prince John
venomously. "He couldn't rot in
Duronstein, like any decent man
would! . . . But no! ... he must
pop up here, to spoil our plan!"
"Spoil it, why should he, Your
Highness . . ." said Sir Guy, suave-
ly, "Richard hasn't an army with
him . . . if he had we'd have heard
of it! He's stopping as the Bishop
informs us, at this Kent Road tavern
. . . then if Richard happened to be
. . . er . . . killed there to-night,
England to-morrow, would have a
new king . . ."
"But that's murder!" whispered
the Bishop. "I'll have nothing to
do with . . . "
"You'll do . . ." retorted Sir
Guy with quiet menace, "what you're
told to do . . , and that's very
simple. Keep your mouth closed!"
The Bishop appealed to John,
"How long will you retain your
Abbey," replied Prince John coldly,
"if Richard survives to find out
what you've been up to, these
years he's been away , . . Who's to
. or . , dispose of King Richard, Sir
Guy?"
They beckoned Dickson, a knight
whose spurs had been taken from
him by Richard.
Should he consent to do the deed,
his name would reappear on the roll
of English knights . . . and the
manor and estates of Robin of
Locksley would support his rank.
"When do I start, Sire?"
"At once! How many men will
you need?"
"None, Sire! I'll do it better
alone!"
"The King Richard dies to-
night!" whispered Prince John in
mad elation. "Go back to the
Abbey, Your Grace, and make pre-
parations to proclaim me king, here,
in Nottingham, the day after to-
morrow . . ."
Suddenly he stopped alarmed,
gazing upward toward the stair-
way, where all glimpsed the vanish-
ing form of the Lady Marian. The
Bishop was aghast. "You don't
suppose that she . . .?" he began.
"I don't know . . ." Sir Guy said
grimly, "But after I've seen Your
Grace away . . . I certainly shall
find out!"
Back in the apartment, Marian
hastily scribbled a note to Robin,
explaining why he must immediately
find King Richard and warn him of
the plot. She was about to send
it by Bess to Much at the Sara-
cen's Head—when some one rapped
sharply. She thrust the note under
a cloth on the table and as Bess
swiftly disappeared, opened the door.
Sir Guy sternly accused Marian
of having heard the conference in
the Great Hall and when she re-
fused to satisfy him, he had her
hailed to the presence of Prince
John, the Sheriff, and the other
knights. She was finally infuriated
to the point of acknowledging that
she had overheard and Prince John
threatened her with execution.
"I am a royal ward of King
Richard—" she cried, "and no one
but the King himself has the right
to condemn me to death!"
"And it shall be a King who
will order your execution for high
treason, exactly forty-eight hours
from now!" The guards imprisoned
her.
In the meantime, Bess had
brought the news to Much at the
Saracen's Head. Like a shot from
a cannon the little man was off to
find Robin and tell him of the plot
to murder King Richard. Much was
fording a forest stream when he
came upon Dickson tbe man com-
missioned to do the deed. Savagely
he dragged him from his saddle.
They fought with knives until
Dickson lay dead. Then the little
man, sorely wounded, dragged him-
self on through Sherwood Forest
till Will Scarlet, riding by, found
him. "Why Much," he cried, dis-
mounting hastily, "What's happened
to you . . ?"'
"Take me to Robin—-quick—quick
—" gasped Much . . "It's a matter
of—life or—death . ,
(To be continued.)
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