Robin Hood. Creswick Paul

with only the briefest word of thanks to him: and would have spoken, had not his daughter, with chilling gesture, forbidden it. She gave no outward symptom of the anger stirring within her: she wore her worthless but royal crown of bay, whilst the other toyed thoughtfully with the golden arrow, and wondered who the gallant giver of it might be.

      Robin, Warrenton, Stuteley, and Roughbeard rode towards the gate of Nottingham on the horses of the defeated knights. They had decided to stay no longer at the Fair: the noisy play and mock-joustings that were to follow the archery had no attraction for them.

      CHAPTER IX

      This escort saved Geoffrey from the attack planned upon him by the two treacherous robbers. They spied him out, and followed the small cavalcade throughout the journey, but at a respectful distance, uttering deep threats against the lad who had warned the knight of their evil intent. So, whilst making friends, Robin also made enemies: but none so bad as that cold-faced woman of Nottingham Castle. She had recognized in Robin of Locksley the youth who had come with old Montfichet on the first day of the Fair.

      Near by Gamewell, Roughbeard called a halt. He had been strangely silent, being over doubtful.

      "Farewell, friends," said he, doffing his cap to them. "Here our roads do part, for I must go further through the forest."

      "I, too, have that direction before me, if so be that you are travelling westward," said Geoffrey to him, with well-assumed diffidence, and speaking through his casque. He had known the outlaw at once; but had forborne to show it, scarce dreaming that Robin also had pierced Will's disguise.

      Robin became busy in his thoughts when he saw his cousin and Roughbeard riding off together like this. That secret way from the hut which led into Sherwood; the two villains who had plotted against Geoffrey–why, all was clear! Geoffrey now was with them of the forest; had been seeking to influence Master Will; no doubt the red trappings upon which he had laid such stress were as a signal to someone. To whom? And to what end?

      Geoffrey had been cool towards Robin when warned of those scheming against him. "I can protect myself against such rabble, cousin," was all he would say. "But I would thank you for bidding your lad to me in the joustings; it was a matter I had overlooked that one must have an esquire. I'll not forget the courtesy."

      That was all. He had shrunk back into himself again; and with closed visor had ridden silently beside them. Yet he was not ungrateful; and had begun to like Robin very honestly, only Geoffrey Montfichet must be very sure of his man ere he would unbend to him.

      It was already nigh on dusk as Robin rode into the court at Gamewell in dreaming abstraction. His thoughts had sprung back again from Geoffrey to the blue-eyed maid: and in cloudlands he saw himself her knight. Wondrous and mighty would be the deeds that he should perform for her dear sake–did she bid him to them.

      Then he remembered Broadweald, and how he had sworn within himself to set his life to win that, for his father's happiness.

      Ay: but surely in the winning of Broadweald there might chance smaller prizes, which properly he might yield for a smile from this fair maid? Or again, might not he battle for the two together?

      "Robin, Robin!" He heard old Montfichet's voice, calling from the shadow of the porch. "Where are you, child? I did not espy you at the bridge. Come here, boy, and let me tell to you something of sorrow. There has befallen a sad mischance to your father at Locksley–"

      "Sir, sir," cried poor Robin, waking suddenly, "tell me not that he is dead!" He sprang hastily from his grey steed and ran towards the Squire.

      "No, not that."

      "Ah, but my heart forewarns me. He has been hurt by some beast? It is the season when the deer are wild."

      "Master Fitzooth has been attacked by a great stag near by your home. That is all we know of it, child; and I give it you plainly at once, that you may hear the worst. Your mother has already gone to him, with the clerk and a full two score of men. For the captain of the foresters has kindly joined forces with mine own fellows; so that no further harm may befall."

      "I'll follow her, sir. Give me leave to go."

      "'Twere wiser to wait till morning, boy. What could you do now? Mayhap we fret ourselves too much, as 'tis. But you shall go, with Warrenton and your esquire, when morning is here. Ay, and I will come too; and we will bring with us the most skilful leech in Nottingham. I have already sent a messenger to him, an hour since, so soon as the dame had gone."

      "I like not my mother having been sent for, sir. That shows me that the hurt is deadly. To think that I was playing so foolishly at the moment when I might have been of use to him!"

      So rudely ended Robin's dreaming.

      In the morning they set out for Locksley; the Squire with the leech, and six mules bearing such delicacies as old Gamewell's generous mind could think upon. Warrenton headed a full score of men, for fear of the outlaws; and they took a litter with them to bring Master Fitzooth to Gamewell.

      The dame met them at the latch-gate which Robin knew so well. Her face was deathly pale and her mouth quivered as she tried to frame a welcome to them.

      "Mother!" cried Robin, in anguished voice, running to her; and there was no need for further speech. In that one cry and in the expression of her mute, answering face, the truth was told and understood. No use to fight for Broadweald now; were it his a hundred times over, Robin could never do that with it which he in all his boyhood had planned. Hugh Fitzooth, Ranger of the Forest of Locksley, was dead.

      * * * * *

      The good Clerk of Copmanhurst, who had appeared from within the cottage, told the story of Fitzooth's death. Fitzooth had been alone when the huge wild stag had attacked him; was near his death when discovered by two of his men. He had regained consciousness only at the sound of his wife's voice; had kissed her with fainting breath; and, having labored to send Robin a message of love and pride in him, had gradually faded in spirit until the dawn.

      It was an unhappy ending to a life soured by disappointment; yet somehow this man had managed to win a way into the hearts of many people. The few villagers of Locksley all had their tender word or humble tribute of affection to offer the dame and her sorrowing son; and thus much of the edge of their grief was blunted. Until the interment the priest stayed with them, and so did old Gamewell, who paid all the fees and expenses inevitable in consequence of Fitzooth's decease.

      Afterward, the Squire would have them go back to Gamewell with him; but Robin had determined to ask for his father's post. This bitter time made the lad into a man suddenly. It was the evening of the day when they had laid Fitzooth to rest in the little churchyard of Locksley that Montfichet returned again to talk of his plan of making Robin his heir.